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BENTLEY'S 


MISCELLANY. 


VOL.  VIII. 


LONDON: 

RICHARD     BENTLEY, 

NEW   BURLINGTON   STREET. 

1840. 


LONDON: 

PRINTED   BT   iAMVUt  BCNTLBT, 

Binfor  Hmm,  8kM  turn. 


» 


TO  THE  EIGHTH   VOLUME. 


AloMOtlh.  W.  H^  Gay  Fawkn  by,  I. 

]05.-il7.  321.436.629. 
AUiicb.  JaoiM.  Morn  at  Sea  b;,  IBS. 
Appewaacco,  juJutn;t  hy,  75. 
ApnipM  In  IhM'ior  MonMiD*kd«ath,  170. 
Afpmtinn  for  a  I'lai-e,  3'J  ;  ut  PosmA. 
Aikia,  Tomvij,  llie  vtor.   anecdote   of 

bini.  236. 
Aloys,  ibe  Lay  of  Saul,  602. 


I — K;    Wreck  of  the  Hesperua, 
_  W  .  ll«  1  brw  Epocba.  194  i  Ihc  falac 
LovtJ-,  fiT7. 
BoJon.  the   Pantaloon,    journal  of  liia 

Tnji  li.  I'ftris  in  1830,  60.  195. 
Bainrti,  Mr.  Morrif.  anecilok  of,  ^^i, 
llftitu,  ilt«,  xtoty  of,  31};  Mf  llarkaway 

fianftlan,  MVoatit  of  tSa  character  of  the* 

in  llt«(a;M,  391. 
B«aa  offoTOCT  TuBea,  and  the  Dondy  of 

Ui«  pnaaat  Day,  conparUoa  botweeo, 

40. 
Bahhid  lh«  Sccoes,  456  ;  m  Clockaiaker. 
BwH»  GMpard  de,  iloi^  of  fain.  181. 
BffealU,  lioca  on  tlie  painted,  £96. 
Bljwk    A[Duv]uetair«,    tlm,  a    le^ad    of 

Fianeo,  262  i  Canto  II.  366  ;  im  Io- 

Bleudit  Jacke  of  Shrcu-sbrrrie,  County 
Lweoda,  No.  1.  171  :  t^t  IngoKUby. 

BratJ,  acroa&l  of  tlie  lohabilantK  of  the 
Origan  Mnonbiina  la,  2A. 

Bntajrac,  Courting  in,  3S1 ;  Character 
of  iM  Bazvalan,  ib. 

Boontaur.  oiri^  of  ihc,  a  poem,  610. 

C. 

CaU»ta1florB,  344, 

Cbamier,  Cspuin,  a  Sailor'a  inp  up  the 

kliiscbv.  3r>H.f^l8. 


Cheiterficid,  Earl  of,  anecdote  nspcetiDg 
him.  237. 

ClritnpantM,  Mr.  tl»e  Duutppointed  Tm- 
velfirr,  490  ;  •«  Crowquitl. 

Clink,  Colin  ;  tet  Colin  Clink. 

"Clocktniikar."  Tli«  Dake  of  Kent'a 
I^odge,  bv  the  author  of  tlie,  386 ,  Too 
Knowing  by  Half,  3*)6  ;  Behind  the 
Seeuec.  458  ;  Facing  a  Woman,  503. 

Cobliter  i'hyslcian,  atory  of  the,  137  ;  tm 
Poake. 

Cocknn  SporlsTnaa,  3:}7. 

Colin  CliDk.  hit  kindneu  to  Miu  Wio- 
llehury.  277 ;  enter*  into  Mr.  Poler 
Vcriquear'a  aervic*,  2m  ;  mccln  wilh 
^•[uue  [.tijiins,  ?66  ;  hi»  inlervinw  with 
hiiu,  371)  ;  ftrorc  Lid  \a  calrh  Dr. 
Kotr^l,  iL  Wi'i  ;  unetpecteil  scene  upon 
Loti'lon  Undge.  382 ;  re^appcarance 
of  nn  uoeipvctvl  otutooier.  with  what 
iia>i«ed  at  the  tRicrview,  404 ;  Mr. 
Lapion  explaias  10  Coltn  the  atory  of 
hiinwlf  ami  hill  Iidy,  4tifl;  Peter  Vcii- 
qnear  makes  love  to  Mim  8owerw>fl. 
449  ;  certuti  w*i  rbarirtfra  introduced 
upon  the  atagei  and  amongst  them  the 
leal  heroine  of  this  hittorv,  688  ;  one  of 
the  l)csl  adventures  in  wfiicb  Colin  ba» 
signalited  himself,  591. 

Contrntiandiita,  the.  17. 

ConUisU  in  the  Lite  of  a  Poet,  201. 

Coqiot  MSS.  itie,  153. 

Coslello,  T.uuiflaSiuarl.  Gaopaid  de  Tt««ae 
by.  Ifll  i  LoYc'a  Second  Sight,  237  ; 
f/oartiiig  in  BreUigne,  3^1. 

Cooaty  L^ndf ,  No.  L  Uloodie  Jacke  of 
Slirc«rah«rric.  171  ;  t^t  Ingoldsby. 

ConrtinK  in  Bnila|;uc,  391. 

Crocodile,  Mr,  alory  of)  49^  tu  Crow- 
(jBill. 

Cmwqnill.  Alfred.  Mr.  Crocodile  by,  49  ; 
The  True  S'tory  at  the  McTrfaaol'a 
Ward.  IH9;  Ma«tilf  Lubberkin.  2.S7  -, 
riiaDaciiy.  Mr.  Ker  Snap,  431;  Mr. 
ChiiDpaaue.  the  Duappomted  Travel- 
ler. Am  .  Mi.  Uyuu  Snifkc.  &97. 


WJ  J 


XL 


a  ^Km. 


642 


INDEX 


D. 

Dact),  Simon,  Silent  Love  bj,  601. 

Dance  of  Life,  Um:.  346. 

Daocht  of  tlie  pn^ent  Day  and  tli«  B«au 

of  Kirtner  Times  compaml,  40. 
Daniel,  George,  Merne  England  id  ibo' 

Olden  Tine  by,  441.  MS. 
Day's  Fishing  in  the  Thames,  337. 
Dialogue  between  twro  China  Jan,  474. 
PiiappoinUd  Trevelkr,  Mr.  Cbioipanue. 

490. 
Doinga  (jenul'inne,  a  lale  of  a  Calf,  344. 
Due  de  I.'Omelelle.  the,  352. 
I>ucIl.  il,  fra^ent  hoxa  the  autobiofTapby 

of.  686. 
Dumaltoo'a  Sloi^i   Canpai^   of   1793, 

andir  the  Duke  of  Vorii,  400. 47& 
Oyiftg  Man.  the,  347. 


Elder,  Abraham,  Esq.  TIm  Dytilg  Man 
by,  347. 

F. 

VtdOf  a   Woman,    slory    of,   S03  ;   m» 

CtockmakcT. 
FalM  Lover,  the,  577. 
Fall  of  the  }Ioufic  of  lUber,  ]r,B. 
Father  Mathew,  account  of  bin  adminis- 

teiiog  the  Pledge  of  Tempenneo  in 

Ireland.  M. 
Fawkei,  Guy  ;  utG^y  Fawket. 
Fragment   from   tlie  autobiography  of  a 

Duck,  686. 


T. 

I  'id  tired,  627. 

logoldsby,  Thomas,  Bloudie  Jaeke  of 
Sbfewkbenie,  Na  I.  of  County  Ijegenda 
by,  117;  tbe  Black  Moa»quetairQ  by, 
262.  365  ;  the  Lay  of  Saint  A  lo)-»,  602. 

Inmaa,  J.  E.  (he  Origin  of  the  Ducen- 
taur  by.  510. 

Ireland,  effecu  of  tl»e  T«a)penoc«  Socie- 
ties  in,  54. 

Irish  Gentleman  and  the  Utile  Frcocb* 
man,  46. 

Iriali  lDV«atioD,  chapter  on,  23d. 

J. 

Jars,  dialogue  betOTcen  two  China,  474. 
Jerdao,  William,  the  Sleeping  Bt«uly  fn 

our  Tiroes  by,  79. 
John  Bull  Abroad,  121. 
Johaih  Richard,  Marine  Memoranda  by. 

626. 
JoUy  Miller,  the.  a  fragment,  23. 
J^nuil  uf  Uhi  Barnes  the  I'anlalooo,  69. 

196. 
Judging  by  Appearance*,  Mistakca  in  a 

Pri*on,  75. 
Jui«Dil«  Labonr,  365  *,  iwc  Moral  Ecooomj 

of  Large  Towtu, 


Kcmhie,  Jobn  P.,  anecdote  of  his  absence 

of  mind.  236. 
Kent,  Duke  of,  his  lodge  in  Nova  Scotta, 

3B6 ;  SH  Clocknaker. 
Kleist,  lines  on  tbe  painted  Betalla  bv, 

S96. 


O. 

Gaiptrd  de  Detse,  storr  of,  181. 

OlufmVf  remariu  on  tke  Moral  F^vnomr 
of.  668. 

Gleig,  Rer.O.  R.  Dumalton,  the  Chelsea 
VMBrmn  by,  400.  476. 

Guy  Fawkei,  continuatioD  of,  —  The 
Packet,  I  ;  the  F.liiir,  7  ;  the  Collc- 
nate  Church  al  Manohckior,  106  ;  the 
Beocounter,  M9 ;  the  FxpNnalioo, 
217;  tbe  Ditooveiy,  219;  departure 
from  tbe  Hall,  226  ;  tlie  landing  of  the 
]>owder,  321  ;  the  Traitor,  330;  his 
cacape  pravenu-d,  426 ;  digging  the 
Mine,  430  ;  tbe  captare  of  Viviana. 
639  ;  Ute  cellar,  667. 

H. 

Haritawav  Sketches  — the  BaUu,  33;  a 
Day's  Fishing  lu  the  'I'bamea — Cockney 
SportsiDCQ,  337. 

llootoa,  Charles,  Colin  Clink  by,  377. 
376.  464.6Ba. 

House  of  VJ^her.  fill  of  the,  168. 


1.«gends — TIm!  RUck  Mou«quelaire,  262. 
Lines — on  Dr.  Morrison's  Death,   170; 

on  Old  Age,  467 ;  touching  (he  Line, 

390. 
LiveipODl,  remarka  on  the  moral  ecooooy 

of,  129  ;  scarcity  of  juvenile  employ* 

ment  in,  132. 
LaogfellDW,  H.  \V.,  (be  Voicesof  tbe  Night 

by,  78;  wreck  of  lli«  Hespenu,  163- 
Loais  Philippe,  arcnnot  of  his  travels  in 

tbe  I'oited  fitalcs  in  his  early  life,  494. 
Lorer.  the  false,  677. 
Love's  Good  Monow,  137  ;  let  ^(ackay, 
LoTe's  Second  Siefat,  a  poem,  237. 
love's  Good  Nigbt,  a  pocm,w«  Mackay. 

M. 

M'Dougall.  Atennder,  Ballad  by,  32. 
Mackay  C  Love').  Gwxl  Morrow  by,  136; 

Love's  Good  Night,  361. 
M'Teague,  P..  Fmbw  Mathew  by,  54  ; 

Irish  Invention  by,  238. 
Maeina,  Dr.,  the  Mockiogs  of  the  Sol- 

dters  by.  364. 


INDEX. 


G43 


limritM  Memanodn,  6*25. 
Mutiff  LubWriis.  iU>ry  of.  257. 
M«(iwio,  CiuUin,  tlieCaDtnbudisn  by. 

17. 
MenbwiOs  Wtrd.  true  ftorjr  at  (ht.  180. 
Mem«  Eaglind  in  ih«  Oklea  Time,  441. 

646. 
Milla.  John*  the  Batto  hy.  33  ;  &  Day't 

Fuhio^  ID  die  Tbamu,  337. 
Muukn  m  k  PnwD.  75. 
&I  oclunz>  of  tlM)  Sol<li«rt,  3-^4 . 
JUoraJ  kcaaomy  of  Ltf^  TowW — Liwr- 

pool,  ri»;J«veQileL«bour,3aSi  ulu- 

gow,  bS8. 
Mnr«n,  £.  lUletgl),  Contnuu  to  the  Life 

afiPotthy.tOl. 
HoraatSso,  ft  poem.  \QB, 
Honism.  Dr..  Udm  od  his  death,  170. 

O. 

Old  Affi,  liocaoo,  467. 

Old  Mta'il^e.  AB7. 

Otgan  MouQUiM  id  Bfui),  ucouol  of, 

■24. 
Orifin  flf  tlte  Buccntanr.  a  poem,  &I0; 

ooto  lUpectiBK  t}»e  author,  lA. 
OiiMly,  T.J.  OU  Min'i  Un  by,  667. 

P. 

Pnlu,  R.  p.,  the  Cobbler  PhytieiiD  by, 
137 ;  (he  Tnoaylvaniko  Aualomit,  2W. 

Pbnidui,  The  Cobbler,  utory  of  tfa«,  by 
Ptaktf  197. 

Pocmt' — Aipnilioa  for  a  PUm,  '27; 
Vojca  of  ittc  .Nijcht,  78  ^  Lore'i  Good 
N«fr«w.  136;  .Moid  at  Sea,  188; 
Liora'e  Secoml  Sigtit,  237 ;  Love'*  tiood 
Night.  3.SI  i  the  SciUMDB,  463  ;  Origin 
of  i^  Burentaar,  610. 

Poet,  ooolrasts  m  the  life  of  a.  20 1 . 

Port/otio  of  Mt.  IMer  Popkin,  233. 

Pugnacity — Mr.  Ker  Sri[s421  ;  ur  Crow, 
qtull. 

R. 

Bewft,  JofaD,  aoecdotc  of  him,  234. 

n  ijiiinnii,  biaeatnplimeat  to  (iarrick,3.3(>. 

lUview,  a.  dliiDlaresied.  611. 


Sailor**  Trip  op  th«  Rhine,  268. 618. 
Schouel.  Jiui  Oeorge,  ibe  Sea»oM  by, 

463. 
fiauooa.  the,  a  pocfD,  463, 
Bhahapearc,  actouot  of  hli  inlrodactioa  lo 

ijueca  Kltuibeth.  201. 
SiWtit  Luke,  fiOl. 
Skaiu-,  W.  tM»iirds.  the  Throo  Epochi 

hy.  1P4. 
Sletpiof!  Ueatily  la  oor  Tuoes.  79. 
Smirke,  Mr.  llyeoa^  697 )  M*  CrowqulL 


Stanley  Thoro — a  point  of  interest  argued 
at  lUchmond,  87  :  CKpenerwe  parchnaed 
at  K^iHini.  91 ;  the  perfonnanrc  of  » 
pkaetonic  feat,  which  brin^  Ikib  into 
temponin-  trouble,  205  ;  (lie  recoocjliu- 
tioD,  214;  Stanley  and  Amelia  are 
afi:un  marned,306i  the  SooaofGIoiy. 
312  ;  Sir  W illiam's deaigni  nmra  dcaily 
developed,  408 ;  Vncnble  Joe  pro- 
molgatei  bis  matrimaDtal  views,  41 1  ; 
Sunley  prepam  to  become  a  Afeiciber 
of  PartianieDl.  613  ;  the  caorau,  617  ; 
the  Nowiuattoo,  (>28 ;  the  ElectioDj 
632  i  tbcCbiiiiiuK,  636. 

Slealiag  Uie  Treasure,  248. 

Bub-maritU!,  Marine  Httnormnda  by  a, 
63&. 

Soett,  Dicky,  anecdote  of  him,  233. 

T. 

Tala  of  a  Calf,  or  Doiii^  a  Geod'anne, 
344. 

Tavlor,  l>r.  W.  C..  Moral  f>onomy  of 
rarjfe  Towns  by,  129. 356. 558. 

Tecaperanee,  eBccu  of  the  pledge  of,  in 
Ireland,  64. 

Theatres,  the.  640. 

Thorn,  SUoley  ;  mw  Stanley. 

Thre«  Epochs,  a  ballad,  194. 

Tt^ely  tVe  Comediao,  anecdote  of  him, 

a3a 

Too  Konwiog  by  Half,  396  ;  jm  Clock- 

mabcr- 
Transy  Wanian  A  natomie,  a  tale,  '288 ;  mw 

Peaks. 
True  Story  of  th«  Merchant's  Ward,  189. 

V. 

"  ValenliDe  Vox.**  Stanley  Thoni,  by  th« 
author  of.  87.205.306.408.513.628. 

Veatu  aad  Love.  567. 

Visionary,  the,  578. 

Visit  to  the  tjrgan  Slountoins  in  BnuiU 
24. 

Vironne,  Monsieur  de,  anecdote  respect- 
ing hull,  236. 

Voices  of  the  Night,  «  poem,  78. 

W. 

WtBherwomao.  the,  6^. 

Willis,  Hal,  Tiue  Story  of  the  Merchant's 
\Vud  by.  189 ;  the  Dsiwe  of  Lifa,  346 ; 
Dialogue  hetween  Tn-o  China  Jars, 
474  ;  the  Washerwoman,  669 ;  frag- 
ment from  the  aulobiography  of  a  DuS, 
6S(i 

Wreck  of  the  Iletpeius,  ■  ballad,  1&3. 

V. 

York,  Duke  of,  acconnl  of  the  csropaira 
in  1793  under  bim.  400.  476, 


BND    OF    THE    CtOHTH    VOLUME. 


LONDON  : 
rniNTKD  BY    SAHUKL   BSNTLFV* 

Hangor  Houie,  Shoe  Lane. 


CONTENTS. 

Page 
Guy  Fawkes :  a  Historical  Romauce^  by  William  Harrlsoo  Aioswortb, 

1,  105,  217,  321,  425,  529 
Hie  Ccmtrabandista,  by  Captain  Medwin,     .  .  •  .  17 

Ad  Aspiration  for  Place,  .  .  .  .  .  .        23 

The  Jolly  Miller,  a  Fragment,  ..... 

Visit  to  the  Organ  Mountaias  in  Brazil, 

Ballad,  by  Alexander  M'Dougall,     ..... 

r!).^"F'i,hi„g-m  the  ■fh«.«,  }  H>*a'"y  Sk«oh«.  by  John  MilU, 
The  Dandy  of  the  present  Day  and  the  Beau  of  former  Times, 
The  Irish  Gentleman  and  the  little  Frenchman, 

Jdr.  Crocodile, 

Mastiff  ~ 

PagD! 

Mr 

Mr.  Hyei 


23 

24 
33 
38 
337 
40 
45 
49 
257 
421 
490 
597 
54 
238 
Journal  of  Old  Barnes,  the  Pantaloon,  on  a  trip  to  Paris,  in  1830,  69, 195 

Judging  by  Appearances — Mistakes  in  a  Prison,       ...  75 

The  Voices  of  Uie  Ni^t,  .  V  by  Henry  Wadsworth  78 

Wreck  of  the  Hesperus,  the  Black  Squall,  f      Longfellow         .  152 

The  Sleeping  Beauty  in  our  Times,  by  William  Jerdan,  .        79 

Stanley  Thorn,  by  the  Author  of  "  Valentine  Vox,"  87, 205,  306,  408,  513,  628 
John  Bull  Abroad,  .......       121 


le  Insb  Gentleman  and  the  little  Frenchman, 

r.  Crocodile,  .  .  ,  .     "\ 

lastiff  Lubberkin,  .  .  /      . 

agnacity— Mr.  Ker  Snap,  .  ■      /"  by  Alfred  CrowquiU, 

[r.  Chimpanzee,  the  Disappointed  Trareller,    i      . 

r.  Hyena  Smirke,  .  .  .J 


fl'L^nt::  }  by  Peter  M-Teague, 


wS^Lw,     .     I  Moral  Economy  of  l^e  Tow,,,-.         •  ^ 

GUsgow,  .  )       by  Dr.  W.C.  Taylor,  jjg 


Love's  Good  Morrow,         .1  .  .  .       1 36 

Lore's  Good  Night,       .  >  by  Charles  Mackay,  .  351 

The  False  Lover,     .  .     )  .....      577 

The  Cobbler  Physician,  .     1  Uy  R.  B  P«tP  "  "  ^^^ 

The  Transylvanian  Aoatoroie,  j  oy  «- u.  reaae  .288 

Ue  Corpus  MSS. 153 

The  FaU  of  the  House  of  Usher,  .  .  .  .  .158 

Apropos  to  the  Doctor's  lamented  death,      .  .  .  .  170 

Bloudie  Jacke  of  Shrewsberrie,        .         1         .  .  .  .      171 

The  Black  Mousquetaire,  .  ■    f  by  Thomas  Ingoldsby,       262,  365 

A  Legend  of  St  Aloys,        .  .         )         .  .  .  .602 

Gupard  de  Besse,         .  )  ....  181 

Lore's  Second  Sight,  [    by  Miss  Costello,     .  .  .237 

Courting  in  Bretagoe,   .  )..,..  391 

^omst  Sea,  by  James  Aldrich,  .....       188 

TbeUtee  Epochs,  a  ballad,  .  .  .     '       .  194 

C<ntrasts  in  the  Life  of  a  Poet,  by  £.  Raleigh  Morao,    .  .  .201 

JJe  Portfolio  of  Mr.  Peter  Popkin  (deceased),  ...  233 

Tl*  Stealing  of  the  Treasure,      ......       248 

A  Sailor's  Trip  up  the  Rhine,  by  the  author  of  "  The  Life  of  a  Sailor,"  268, 618 
Colin  Clink,  by  Charles  Hooton,  .  .  .       277,  376,  464,  588 

A  "hie  of  a  Calf,  or  Doing  a  Gensd'arme,     ....  344 

T«tnjeStory  of  the  Merchant's  Ward  .  -^        ■  •  .189 

The  Dance  of  Life,  .  .  .         /  .  .  346 

A  Dialogue  between  two  China  Jars,      .  .  V  by  Hal  Willis,  474 

Tm  Washerwoman,    ....        I  .  .  569 

A  Fiagmeot  from  the  Autobiography  of  a  Duck,  J        ,  .  .      586 


IV 


CONTENTS. 


Th«  Dymg  Man,  by  Abraliara  KIder, 

Thi:  Duke  de  I'Dmclellc,  .... 

Tlie  Muckintis  of  the  Soldiers,  by  Dr.  Mogiiui, 

The  Uuke  of  Kent's  Lodge,  \      . 

Too  Knowing  by  Imlf,  .         f    by  Om  Author  of  "Tlie 

Behind  the  Scenes,  .  C         ClockfUBkcr," 

Facioff  a  Woroao,      .  .         }  ... 

LiD«t  touching  the  Line,  by  J.S. 

Diimalton,  ehe  Chelsea  Veteran,  by  the  R«t.  G.  R.  Gleig,   . 

Merrie  England  io  Uie  Olden  Time,  by  Geoive  Daniel, 

Epigram  on  0(d  Age,  by  Mnrtin  Opiu  von  uobcrfeld. 

The  Seasons,  by  Just  George  Schottel,    .... 

Louis  Hiilip|}e,  a  new  Chapter  ai  the  Itomance  of  Modem  History, 

The  Origin  of  the  Buceutaur,  by  G.  E.  Jnman,    . 

The  Old  Mno'ii  Love, 

Lines  on  the  painted  Betulla, 

Silent  Love,  by  Simon  Dach, 

Venus  and  Love,  .... 

A  Disinterested  Review, 

Marine  Memoranda,  by  a  Sub-Marine,   .  . 

1  'm  tired,     ..... 

The  Theatres,     ..... 

Index,  ..... 


641 


Pagel 
83 


ILLUSTRATIONS, 

Dr.  Dee  resuscitating  Gujr  Fawkes,  by  Cruikahank, 

ijtantey  Thum  at  Epsom,  by  Alfred  Crowquill,  . 

Guy  lawkes  protecting  Humphrey  Chethmu  fromCatesby,  by  Cniikshank,  loi 

The  Merchant's  Ward,  by  Alfred  C'rowc|uill,       ....  192 

Viviana  I(adcli6fe  imploring  Guy  Fawkes  to  abandon  the  Conapiracy,  by 

Cruiksbank,  .  .  .  .  .  .  .217 

The  Preseniation  of  the  Pearls,  by  Crowquill,          .            .            .  313 

Guy  Fawkftt  and  Catesby  landing  the  Powder,  by  Cniilcshsnk,               ,  321 

The  Black  Mcusquelaire,  by  J.  Leech,          ....  374 

Stauley  plays  Sir  \Vil]iam*s  came,  by  Crowquill,                         .            .  4ifi 
Guy  Fawkes  and  t}ie  othet  Consptraiors  alarmed  while  digging  Uto  miii«, 

by  Cruikrihank,              ......  435 

Stariley  Thorn— Cftovassing,         .          .                         ...  513 

Guy  1-awkes  keeping  watch  upon  Tresham  and   Lord  Mouoteagle,  by 

Cruikshank,             .......  529 

Stanley  Thom— Chairing  the  Member,  by  Leech,     .           .           .  €36 


WOODCUTS. 


Mr.  Crocodile,  by  Crovniuill, 

Old  Barnes,  ^e  Pantaloon, 

MaslifT  Lubberkin,     .  .  .  . 

Mr.  KtT  Snap,      .  .  ■  ■ 

Mr.  Chimpanzee,  the  Disappointed  Traveller, 

Mr.  Hyena  Smtrke, 

Astronomy, 

A  very  had  Case, 

A  Select  Vestry. 

A  comical  Conju 

The  female  Sailor, 

A  highly- respectable 


.-   by  Crowquill, 


itrau,  •  ■  ' 

..•.•.••■■) 

y.          ,  .            .  V. 

ijunctioo,    •  '            *          I 

ilor,      .  •  1 

(table  Maw,  ^ 


by  Lccdi, 


BENTLEY^S    MISCELLANY. 


GUY  FAWKES. 

BV  W.  UAjlRISUN  AINSWOHTH,  B8Q. 

ILtl'STKATCp    BV    CtORl)£   CR0IK!iH4MK. 

BOOK    TQK    PIRftT. 

QOArTEH    XtV. 
THK     fACK'ET. 

Om  nwoTerrng  from  the  efTecU  of  the  wound  he  had  received 
from  th**  trooper,  fiuy  Fawkcs  fi)iintl  him'ielf  stretched  upon  a 
sidaU  bed  in  a  cottage,  wiih  Viviana  and  Catesby  watching  be- 
side htm.  A  thick  fi>ld  of  linen  was  bandaged  round  his  head, 
and  he  was  so  faint  from  the  great  effusion  of  blood  he  hnd  sus- 
tained, (hat,  after  g:izinf;  vacantly  around  him  for  a  tew  nii- 
O'.  I  '  but  impcrfecMy  comprehending  what  he  beheld,  his 

e\  i,  and    he  relapsed  into    insensiinlity.     Restoratives 

bcinc  applied;  he  revived  in  a  short  time,  and,  in  answer  to  his 
inijuiritHi  as  to  how  he  came  thither,  was  iidbrtned  by  Catesby 
that  be  Imd  beeU  left  fur  dead  by  his  assailants,  who,  contenting 
tbemaelves  with  making  the  old  steward  prisoner,  had  ridden  ofi* 
in  the  direction  of  Che!<ter. 

*•  What  has  become  of  Sir  William  RadcUiFe  ?  ^  asked  the 
woun<led  man,  in  a  fw?l>le  voice. 

Cate*by  raised  his  finger  to  his  lips,  and  Fawkea  learnt  the 
di&treising  nature  of  the  question  he  had  asked  by  the  agonizing 
cry  that  burst  from  Viviana.  Unable  to  control  her  grief,  she 
withdrew,  am!  Catesby  then  told  him  that  the  body  of  Sir 
William  Radcliffe  was  lying  in  an  adjoining  cottage,  wlullier  it 
bad  U  '-d  from  the  scene  of  (lie  conflict;  adding  that  it 

w*s  M       I .  '  -:  earnest  de.sire  that  it  should  be  conveyed  to 

Manchester  to  the  family  vault  in  the  Collegiate  Church ;  but 
that  he  feareil  her  wish  could  not  be  safely  complied  with-  A 
sneaaeDger,  however,  had  been  despatched  to  Holt ;  and  Sir  Kver- 
ard  Digby,  and  Fathers  Garnet  aud  Oldcorne,  were  moment- 
arily expected,  wlien  some  course  would  be  decided  upon  for 
the  dittposal  of  the  unfortunate  knight's  remains. 

*'  Poor  Viviana  !  "  groaned  Fawkc«.  **  She  has  now  no  pro- 
lector.** 

"  Rest  easy  on  that  score,*'  rejoined  Catesby.  "  She  shall 
never  want  one  while  1  live.'*' 

The  wounded  man  fixed  Ids  eyes,  now  blazing  with  red  and 
unoaturol  light,  inquiringly  upon  him,  but  he  said  notliing. 

**  I  know  whiit  you  mean,"  continued  Catesby;  "  you  think  I 
«hall  wed  her,  and  yon  are  in  the  right.    I  shall.    The  marriage 

VOL,    VTIt.  B 


OUY    FAWKE8. 


is  essential  to  our  enterprise ;  and  the  only  obstacle  to  it  is  re- 
moved." 

Fawkes  attempted  to  reply,  but  his  parched  tongue  refused 
its  office.  Catesby  arose,  and  carefully  raising  his  head,  held  a 
cup  of  water  to  his  lips.  The  sufferer  eagerlv  drained  it,  and 
would  have  asked  for  more  ;  but  seeing  that  the  request  would 
be  refused,  he  left  il  uiiuttered. 

"  Have  you  examined  my  wound  ?  **  he  said,  after  a  pause. 
Catesby  answered  in  the  affirmative. 

"  And  do  you  judge  it  mortal  ?"  continued  Fawltes.  "  Not 
tliat  I  have  any  fear  of  death.  I  have  looked  him  in  the  face  too 
oHen  for  that.  But  1  have  somewhat  on  my  mind  which  I  would 
fain  discharge  l)efore  my  earthly  pilgrimage  is  ended.'^ 

"Do  not  delay  it,  then,"  rejoined  the  other.     "  Knowing  I 
speak  to  a  soldier,  and  a  brave  one,  I  do  not  hesitate  to  tell  you  ^m 
your  hours  are  numbered.'''  ^| 

"  Heaven's  will  be  done ! "  exclaimed  Fawke*,  in  a  tone  of  ~ 
resignation.  "  I  thought  myself  destined  to  be  one  of  the  chief 
instruments  of  the  restoration  of  our  holy  religion.  But  I  find 
I  was  mistaken.  When  Father  Garnet  arrives,  I  beseech  vou 
let  me  see  him  instantly.  Or,  if  he  should  not  come  speedily, 
entreat  Miss  RadclifTe  to  grant  me  a  few  moments  in  private.** 

"Why  not  unburthen  yourself  to  me?"  returned  Catesby, 
distrustfully.  *'  In  your  circumstances  I  should  desire  no  bet- 
ter confessor  than  a  brollier  soldier,  —  or  other  crucifix  than  a 
sword-hilt." 

**  Nor  I,"*  rejoined  Fswkes.  "  But  this  is  no  confession  I  am 
about  to  utter.  What  1  have  to  say  relates  to  others,iiot  to  myself." 
"  Indeed  !  "  exclaimed  Catesby.  "  Then  there  is  the  more 
reason  why  it  should  not  be  deferred.  !  Iwld  it  my  duty  to  tell 
you  that  the  fever  of  your  wound  will,  in  all  probability,  pro- 
duce delirium.  Make  your  communication  while  your  senses 
remain  to  you  ;  and  whatever  you  enjoin  shall  be  rigorously 
fulfilled.- 

**  Will  you  swear  this  ?  "  cried  Fawkes,  eagerly.  But  before 
an  answer  could  be  returned,  he  added,  in  an  altered  tone,  ^*-  No, 
— no, — it  cannot  be.'* 

**  This  is  no  time  for  anger,"  rejoined  Catesby,  sternly,  **  or  I 
should  ask  whether  you  doubt  the  assurance  1  have  given 
you  ?  " 

"  I  doubt  nothing  but  your  compliance  with  my  request,** 
returned  Fawkes.  And  oh  fifyou  hope  to  be  succoured  at  vour 
hour  of  need,  tell  Miss  Iladclific  I  desire  to  speak  witfi  her.*" 

*'  The  message  will  not  need  to  be  convej-ed,"  said  Viviana, 
who  had  noiselessly  entered  the  room ;  '•  she  is  here.'* 

Guy  Fawkes  turned  his  gaze  in  the  direction  of  the  voice; 
and,  notwithstanding  his  own  deplorable  condition,  he  was  filled 
with  concern  at  the  change  wrought  in  her  appearance  by  the 
terrible  shock  she  had  undergone.  Her  countenance  was  ua  pale 
as  death, — her  eyes,  from  which  no  tears  would  flow,  as  is  ever 


QUy    FAWKfiS. 


S 


the  case  with  (be  deepest  distress,  were  glasay  and  lustreless, — 
her  luxuriant  hair  hung  in  disi^hevelled  masses  over  her  shuul- 
dcfft) — and  her  attire  was  soiled  and  disortiered. 

**  You  de&ire  to  speak  with  me?  "  she  cuutiiiued,  advancing 
towards  the  couch  of  the  wounded  man. 

**  It  must  be  alone,'*  he  replied. 

Viviana  glanced  at  Catesby,  who  reluctantly  arose,  and  closeii 
the  door  after  him.     **.  We  are  alone  now,**  she  said. 

"Water!  water  !"  gasped  the  sufferer,  **  or  I  perish."  His 
request  being  L-ompHcd  with,  he  continued  in  a  low  solemn 
voictfi  "  Mii(»  liadcliff'e,  you  have  lost  the  dearest  friend  you  had 
on  earth,  and  you  will  soon  lose  one  who,  if  he  had  been  spared, 
would  have  endeavoured,  as  far  as  he  could,  to  supply  that  loss. 
I  My  not  this  (u  aggravate  your  distress,  but  to  prove  the  sin- 
cerity of  my  regard.  Let  me  conjure  you,  with  my  dying 
hnath,  iMt  to  we'd  Mr.  Catesby."* 

"  Fear  it  not,"  replied  Viviana.  "  I  would  rather  endure 
death  than  consent  to  do  so."" 

"  Be  upon  your  guard  against  him,  then,**  continued  Fawkes. 
*'  When  an  ofc^ect  is  to  be  gained,  he  suffers  few  scruples  to 
stand  in  his  way.'* 

"  I  am  well  aware  of  it,"  replied  Viviana  ;  "  and  on  the  arrival 
of  Sir  Everard  Digby,  I  shall  place  myself  under  his  protection." 

**  Should  you  be  driven  to  extremity,^  said  Fawkes,  taking  a 
small  packet  from  the  folds  of  his  doublet,  *■*  break  open  this. 
it  will  inform  you  what  to  do.  Only  promise  me  you  will  not 
have  recourne  to  it  (ill  all  other  means  have  faile<l." 

Viviana  took  the  packet,  and  gave  the  requireil  promise. 

**  Conceal  it  about  your  |>erson,  and  guard  it  carefully,"  con- 
tinued Kawkcs;  "for  you  know  not  when  you  may  require  it. 
And  now,  having  cleared  my  conscience,  I  can  die  easily.  Let 
me  have  your  prayers." 

Viviana  knelt  down  by  the  bedside,  and  poured  forth  the 
moftt  earnest  supplications  in  his  behalf. 

**Periiaps,"  she  said,  as  she  aro^,  *'  and  it  is  some  consola- 
tioQ  to  think  so,  —  you  may  be  i>ave<i  l>y  death  from  the  com- 
■diiioD  of  a  great  crime,  which  would  for  ever  have  excluded 
you  from  the  joys  of  heaven." 

"  Say  rather,"  cried  Guy  Fawkes,  whose  brain  began  to  wan- 
dcf,  **  which  would  have  secured  them  to  me.  Others  will  achieve 
it;   but  I  shall  have  no  sliare  in  their  glory,  or  tlieir  reward." 

^Thtir  reward  wdl  be  perdition  in  ihis  world  and  the  next," 
n^oiaed  Viviana.  ^*- 1  re|K'at,  that  though  I  deeply  deplore  your 
BonditioD,  I  rejoice  iu  your  delivery  from  tliis  siu.  It  is  better 
— lar  better — to  die  thus,  than  by  the  bands  of  the  common 
cutioner." 

**  What  do  1  see  ?  "  cried  Guy  Fawkes,  trying  to  raise  himself, 
^md  sinking  back  agaiu  inntanUy  upon  the  pillow.     **  Kliztibeth 
Ortoa  riees  before  nie.     She  beckons  me  after  her — I  come  !— I 
oone!^ 

a  a 


GUy    FAWKES. 


**  Heaven  pity  hira  !  "  cried  Viviana.  '*  His  senses  have  left 
him ! " 

**■  She  leads  me  into  a  gloamy  cavern,"  coiuinued  Fawke«, 
more  wildly ;  "  but  my  eyes  are  like  the  wolf's,  and  can  pene- 
trate the  darkness.  It  is  filled  wiih  barrels  of  gunpowder.  I 
see  them  ranged  iu  tiers,  one  above  another.  Ab  !  I  knov 
where  1  am  now.  It  ia  the  vault  beneath  the  Parliament-house. 
The  Kinf7  and  liis  nobles  are  assembled  io  the  hall  above.  Lend 
me  a  torch,  that  I  may  tire  the  train,  and  blow  them  into  the 
air.  Quick  !  quick  !  I  have  sworn  their  de&lruclion,  and  will 
keep  my  oath.  What  matter  if  I  perish  with  tliem  ?  Give  mo 
the  torchi  I  say,  or  it  will  be  too  late.  Is  the  powder  damp  that 
it  will  not  kindle?  And  sec  !  the  torch  is  expiring— it  is  none  out ! 
Dii-traction  ! — to  be  hxiffled  ihus  !  Why  do  you  stand  and  glare 
at  me  with  those  atnny  eyes  ?  \\  ho  are  those  with  you  ?  Fiends  I 
—  no  I  they  are  armed  men.  They  seize  nie — they  drag  me 
before  a  grave  assemblage.  What  is  that  hideous  engine?  The 
rack  ! — Bind  me  on  it — break  every  limb — ye  bhall  not  force  me 
to  confess — ha  f  ha  !     I  Inugh  at  your  threats — ha  !   ha  !  " 

**  Mother  of  mercy  I  release  him  from  this  torture  !  *'  cried 
Viviana. 

'*  So  !  ye  have  condemned  me,"  continued  Fawkes,  **  and  will 
drag  me  to  execution.  Well,  well,  1  am  prepare<l.  But  what  a 
host  t»  assembled  to  see  me!  Ten  thousand  faces  are  turned 
towarils  me,  and  all  with  one  abhorrent  bloodlhirsly  expression. 
And  what  a  scufluld  !  Get  it  dune  quickly,  thou  butcherly 
villain.  The  rope  u  twisted  round  my  throat  in  serpent  folds. 
It  strangles  me — ah  )" 

**■  Horror  !  '*  exclaimed  Viviana.  "  I  can  listen  to  this  no 
longer.     Help,  Mr.  Catesby,  help  I " 

'*  The  knite  is  at  my  breast — it  pierces  my  flesh — my  heart  is 
lorn  forth — I  diei — I  die  f "     And  he  uttered  a  dreadful  groan. 

"  What  has  happened  P  "  cried  Catesby,  rushing  into  the  room, 
••h  he  dead?" 

''  I  fear  so,**  replied  Viviana,  "  and  his  end  has  been  a  fearful 
one." 

**  No — no,*"  said  Catesby, — "  his  pulse  still  beats — but  fiercely 
and  feverishly.  You  had  better  not  remain  here  longer,  Miss 
Kadcliffe.     1  wiU  watch  over  him.     All  will  soon  be  over." 

Aware  that  &lie  could  be  of  no  further  use,  Viviana  cast  a  look 
of  the  deepest  commiseration  at  the  sufferer,  and  retire<l.  The 
occupant  of  the  cottage,  an  elderly  female,  had  surrendered  all 
the  apartments  of  her  tenement,  except  one  small  room,  to  her 
guests,  and  she  was  therefore  undisturbed.  The  terrible  event 
which  had  recently  occurred,  and  the  harrowing  scene  she  had 
just  witnessed,  were  too  much  for  Viviana,  and  her  anguisti 
was  so  intense,  that  she  began  to  fear  her  reason  was  deserting 
her.  She  stood  still,  —  gaicd  fearfully  round,  as  if  some  secret 
danger  eavironed  her,  —  clasped  her  hands  to  her  temples,  and 
found  them  burning  like  hot  iron,  —  and,  then,  alarmed  at  her 


GUY   FAWKES. 


own  fttale,  kntilt  down,  prayed,  nnH  wept.  Yea!  she  wept,  for 
the  first  timej  since  her  father's  destruction,  and  the  relief  af- 
fortJcd  by  those  scalding  tears  was  inexpressible. 

From  this  piteous  stale  she  was  aroused  by  the  tramp  of  horses 
it  the  door  of  the  cottage,  and  the  next  moment  Katner  Garnet 
pre»«Dted  himself. 

"  How  uncertain  are  human  afFnirs  !  "■  he  said,  after  a  sorrow- 
ful greeting  had  passetl  between  them.  **  I  little  thought,  when 
we  parted  yesterday,  we  should  meet  again  so  soon,  and  under 
luch  afflicting  circumstances,*' 

**  It  i*  the  will  <jf  Heaven,  father,"  replied  Vivjana,  **  and  we 
inu«t  not  murmur  at  its  decrees,  but  bear  our  chattcning  as  wc 
be*t  may." 

**  I  am   happy  to  find  you  in  such  a  comfortable  frame  of 

'ad.  dear  daughter.     I  feari'd  the  effect  of  the  shock  upon 

ar  feelings.  But  I  am  glad  to  tind  you  bear  up  against  il 
»  well* 

'•  I  am  surprised  at  my  own  firmness,  father,**  replied  A'ivi- 
tna.  **But  1  have  been  schooled  in  affliction.  I  have  no  tie  left 
to  bind  me  to  the  world,  and  shall  retire  from  it,  not  only  without 
regret,  but  with  eagerness." 

'*  Say  not  so,  dear  daughter,"  replied  Garnet,  "  You  have,  I 
truRtf  much  happiness  in  store  for  you.  And  when  the  sharpness 
of  your  affliction  i^^  worn  off,  you  will  view  your  condition  in  a 
Borr  cheering  light." 

"  Imposaible  !  "  she  cried,  mournfully.  "  Hope  is  wholly 
rxtinct  m  my  breast.  But  I  will  not  contest  the  point.  Is  not 
Sir  Everard  Digby  with  you?** 

"  He  is  not,  daughter,"  replied  Garnet,  "  and  I  will  explain  to 
jou  wherefore.  Soon  after  your  tleparture  yetiterday,  the  man- 
rion  we  occupied  at  Holt  wat  attacked  by  a  band  uf  soldiers, 
beaded  by  Miles  Topclifle,  one  of  the  most  unrelenting  of  our 
persecutors;  and  though  they  were  driven  off  with  scmic  Iosk; 
Tfl,  as  there  woa  every  reason  to  apprehend  they  would  return 
with  fresh  forte.  Sir  Everard  judged  it  prudent  to  retreat,  and 
Accordingly  he  and  hi.s  friends,  with  all  their  attenJantt>,  ex- 
oepl  thoee  he  has  sent  with  me,  have  deitarted  for  Buckingham- 
ihire.** 

"  Where,  then,  is  Father  Oldcome?"  inquired  Viviana. 

"  Alas  !  daughter,'"'  rejoined  (iarnet,  '*  I  grieve  to  say  he  is  a 
prisoner.  Iniprtidently  exposing  himself  during  the  attack,  he 
WBi  Mrized  and  carried  off  by  'roj)cliire  and  his  myrmidons," 

**  How  true  is  the  saying,  that  misfortunes  never  come 
dttgle  !**  sighed  Viviana.     "  I  seem  l>ereft  of  all  I  hold  tiear." 

**  Sir  Kvernrd  has  sent  four  of  his  trustiest  servants  with  me,'* 
remarked  Garnet.  "They  arc  well  armed,  and  will  attend  you 
wbercfcryou  choose  to  lead  them.  He  has  also  furnished  me 
with  a  »uni  of  money  f'»r  your  use.** 

*•  He  is  most  kimi  ami  considerate,**  replied  Viviana,  "And 
«nw,  father,*^  die   faltered,  "there  is  one  subject  which  it  is 


6 


OUT    FAWKB8. 


necessary  to  s]Teak  upon ;  and,  though  I  shrink  from  it,  it  must 
not  be  postponed.*' 

"  I  ^uess  what  you  mean,  dauf^hter,"  said  Gnrnet,  sympa- 
thizingly ;  **  you  allude  to  the  interment  of  Sir  William  KatU 
cliff'e.     "  Is  the  body  here  ?  ^ 

•*  It  is  in  an  adjoming  cottage,"  replied  Viviana,  in  a  broken 
voice.  '*  I  have  already  expressed  my  wish  to  Mr.  Catesby 
to  have  it  conveyed  to  Manchester,  to  our  family  vault.*' 

"  I  see  not  liow  that  can  be  accomplished,  dear  daughter," 
replied  Garnet ;  "  but  I  will  confer  with  Mr.  Catesby  on  the 
subject.    Where  is  he?  ** 

**  In  the  next  room,  by  the  couch  of  Guy  Fawkes,  who  is 
dying,**  said  A^iviana. 

"  bying  !  "  echoed  Garnet,  starting.  "  I  heard  he  was  danger- 
ously hurt,  but  did  not  suppose  the  wound  would  prove  fatal. 
Here  is  another  grievous  blow  to  the  good  cauw." 

At  this  moment,  the  door  was  opened  by  Catesby. 

**  How  is  ihe  sufferer  ?  "  asked  Garnet. 

"  A  slight  change  for  the  better  appears  to  have  taken  place," 
answered  Catesby.  "  His  fever  has  in  some  degree  abated,  and 
he  has  sunk  into  a  gentle  filumber.** 

**  Can  he  be  removed  with  safety  ?  ^  said  Garnet ;  "  for,  I  fear, 
if  he  remains  here  he  will  fall  into  the  hands  of  Topcliffe  and  hia 
crew,  who  are  scouring  the  country  in  every  direction ;  ^  and  he 
recapitulated  all  he  had  just  stated  to  V^iviana. 

Catesby  was  for  some  time  lost  in  reflection. 

**  I  am  fairly  perplexed  as  to  what  course  it  will  be  best  to 
pursue,"  he  said.  **  Dangers  and  difficulties  beset  us  on  every 
side.  1  am  inclined  to  yield  to  Miss  Hadcliffe's  request,  and 
proceed  to  Manchester.*^ 

*'  That  will  be  ru&hiog  into  the  very  face  of  danger,"  observed 
Garnet. 

**  And.  therefore,  may  be  the  safest  plan,"  said  Catesby. 
"  Our  adversaries  will  scarcely  suspect  us  of  so  desperate  a 
step." 

'*  Perhaps  you  are  in  the  right,  my  son,"  returned  Garnet, 
after  a  moment's  reflection.  **  At  all  events,  I  bow  to  your 
judgment." 

**  The  plan  is  too  much  in  accordance  with  my  own  wishes  to 
meet  with  any  opposition  on  my  part,"  observed  Vivinna. 

**  Will  you  accompany  us,  father?*^  said  Catesby  ;  "or  do  you 
proceed  to  ( Jotliurst  .•'  ^ 

**  I  will  go  with  you,  my  son.  Miss  Radcliffe  will  need  a 
protector.  And,  till  I  have  seen  her  in  tome  place  of  safety 
I  \fiU  not  leave  lier," 

**  Since  we  have  come  to  this  determination,**  rejoined  Cates- 
by, *'  as  soon  as  the  needful  preparations  can  be  made,  and 
Guy  Fawkes  has  had  some  hours  repose,  we  will  set  out.  lender 
cover  of  night  we  can  travel  with  security  ;  and,  by  using  some 
exertion*  may  reach  Ordsall  Hall,   whither,  J  presume,  Miss 


GUY    FAWKE3. 


RjxScUffe  would  choose  to  proceed,  in  the  first  instance,  before 
daybreak.^ 

"I  am  well  mounted,  and  so  are  my  attendants/'  replied 
Oaniet ;  "and,  by  the  provident  cure  of  Sir  Everard  Djgby, 
etch  of  them  has  a  led  horse  wiih  him." 

"  That  is  well,"  said  Calcsby.  "  And  now.  Miss  Radcliffe, 
may  I  entreat  you  to  take  my  place  for  a  short  time  by  the 
couch  of  the  sufferer.  In  a  few  hours  everjthing  shall  be  in 
mdiness." 

He  then  retired  with  Garnet,  while  Viviana  proceeded  to  the 
adjuiniog  chamber,  where  she  found  Guy  Kawke-s  still  sluniber- 
ioj;  tranquilly. 

As  the  evening  advanced,  he  awoke,  and  expressed  himself 
iDuch  refreshed.  While  he  was  speaking.  Garnet  and  Catesby 
approached  his  bedside,  and  he  appeared  overjoyed  at  the  sight 
of  the  former.  The  subject  of  the  journey  being  mentioned  to 
faim,  be  at  once  expressed  his  ready  compliance  with   the  ar- 

I         roDi^einent,  and  only  desired  that   the  lost  rites  of  his  church 

^^    mi^t  be  performed  for  him  before  he  set  out. 

^V  uamet  informed  him  that  he  came  for  (hat  very  purpoi»e ;  and 
u  tooQ  as  they  were  left  alone,  he  proceeded  to  the  discharge  of 
hit  priestly  duties,  confessed  and  absolved  him,  giving  him  the 
viaticum  and  the  extreme  unction.  And,  lastly,  he  judged  it 
Hpedient  to  administer  a  powerful  opiate,  to  mil  the  pain  of 
hit  wound  on  the  journey. 

This  done*  he  summoned  Catesby,  who,  with  two  of  the  at- 
(e&djuils,  raised  the  couch  on  which  the  wounded  man  was 
■tictehed,  and  conveyed  him  to  the  litter.  So  well  was  this 
Bftaaged,  that  Kawkes  sustained  no  injury,  and  little  inconveni- 
•ooe,  from  the  movement.  Two  strong  country  vehicles  had 
bern  pnicured;  the  one  containing  the  wnundra  man's  litter, 
the  other  the  shell,  which  had  been  hastily  put  together,  (o 
hold  the  remains  of  the  unfortunate  Sir  William  Radcliffe. 
Viviaua  being  placed  in  the  saddle,  and  Catesby  having  libe- 
rally rewarded  the  cottagers  who  had  afforded  them  shelter, 
ibc  little   cavalcade  was  })ut   in   motion.      In  this  way,  they 

u        jiHinwyed  thniugh  the  night ;  and  shaping  their  course  through 

^H    Tarporley,   Northwicli,   and  Altriiigham,  arrived  at  daybreak 

^K    ia  the  neighbourhood  of  Ordsall  Hall. 

L 


CHAPTER    XV. 
TQK     ELIXXD. 


^Wbcn  Vivian*  first  beheld  the  well'remembered  roof  and  ga- 
k  of  the  old  mansion  peeping  from  out  the  grove  of  trees  io 
which  il  was  emU>»uine(l,  her  heart  died  away  within  her.  The 
iboogbt  that  her  father,  who  had  so  recently  quilled  it  in  the 
fall  enjoyment  of  health,  and  of  every  worldly  blessing,  should 
be  so  aouD  brought  back  a  corpse,  was  almost  too  agonizing^ 
for  enduruice.     Hc6ecting,  however,  that  this  was  no  season  for 


8 


<tUY   FAWKES. 


the  indulgence  of  gri^'**  ^^^  ^hat  she  was  called  upon  to  act^ 
with  firmness,  she  uore  up  resolutely  against  her  cmotioiu 

Arrived  within  a  short  distance  of  the  hall,  Catcsby  caused 
the  little  train  to  halt  under  the  shelter  of  the  treej*,  while  he 
rode  forward  to  ascertain  that  they  could  safely  approach  it. 
As  he  drew  near,  everything  proclaimed  that  the  hand  of  the 
spoiler  had  been  there.  Crossing  the  drawbridge,  he  entered 
the  court,  which  bore  abundant  marks  of  the  devastation  re- 
cently committed.  Various  articles  of  furniture,  broken,  burnt, 
or  otherwise  destroyed,  were  lying  scattered  about.  The  glass 
in  the  windows  was  shivered :  the  duors  forced  from  their  hinges  ; 
the  stone-copings  of  the  walls  pushed  off;  the  flower-beds  tram- 
pled ut>on  ;  the  moat  itself  wa.>i  in  some  places  choked  up  with 
rubbish,  while  in  others  its  surface  was  covered  with  floating 
piecL'S  of  timber. 

Led  by  curiosity,  Calesby  proceedetl  to  the  spot  where  the 
stables  had  stood.  Notliing  but  a  heap  of  blackened  ruins  met 
his  gaze.  Scarcely  one  stone  was  stamling  on  another.  The  ap- 
pearance of  the  place  was  so  desolate  and  disheartening,  that  he 
turned  away  instantly-  I^'aving  his  horse  in  a  shed,  he  entered 
the  jiouse.  Here,  again,  he  encountered  fresh  ravages.  The 
oak-paneU  and  f-kirting-boaids  were  torn  from  the  walls;  the 
ceilings  pulled  down;  and  the  floor  lay  inch-deep  in  broken 
plaster  and  dust.  On  ascending  to  the  upper  rooms,  he  found 
the  same  disorder.  The  bannisters  of  the  stairs  were  broken; 
the  bed.stcods  destroyed  ;  the  roof  partially  untiled.  Every 
room  was  thickly  strewn  with  leaves  torn  from  valuahle  boiiks, 
with  fragments  of  apparel,  and  other  articles,  which  the  searchers 
not  being  able  to  carry  ofl',  had  wantonly  destroyed. 

Having  contemplated  this  scene  of  havoc  for  some  time,  with 
feeb'ngs  of  the  bitterest  indignation,  Catesby  descended  to  the 
lower  story  :  and,  after  scarcfiing  iniflcctuatly  for  the  domestics, 
was  about  to  depart,  when,  turning  buddcnly,  he  perceived  a 
man  watching  him  from  an  adjoining  room.  Catesby  instantly 
called  to  him  ;  but,  seeing  that  the  fellow  disregarded  his  assur- 
ances, and  was  about  to  take  to  his  heels,  he  drew  his  sword, 
and  threatened  him  with  severe  punishment  if  he  attempted  to 
fly.  Thus  exhorted,  the  man  —  who  was  no  other  than  the 
younger  Heydocke — advanced  towards  him  ;  and  throwing  him- 
self at  his  feet,  begged  him  in  the  most  piteous  terms  to  do  him 
no  injury. 

"  1  have  already  told  you  I  am  a  friend,'"  replied  Catesby, 
sheathing  his  .sworil. 

"  Ah  !  Mr.  Catesby,  is  it  you  I  behold  ?  "*  cried  Martin  Hey- 
,docke,  whose  fears  had  hitherto  prevented  hira  fnmi  noticing  the 
^features  of  the  intruder.  **  What  brings  your  worship  to  this  ill- 
fated  house  i''' 

**  First  let  me  know  if  there  is  any  enemy  about  ?  "  replied 
Catesby. 

**  None  that  I  am  aware  of,"  rejoined  Martin.  **  Having  ran- 


I 


4 


OUY    FAWKES. 


9 


Mcked  the  premises,  and  done  all  the  mischief  they  could,  as 
you  perceive,  the  miscreants  departed  the  day  before  yesterday, 
and  I  have  seen  nothing  of  chem  since,  though  I  have  been  con- 
stantly on  the  watch.  The  only  alarm  I  have  had  was  that  oc- 
caiiooed  hy  your  worship  just  now." 

"Are  you  alone  here  ?  "  demanded  Catesby. 

"  No,  your  worship,"  answered  Martin.  "  There  are  eeveral 
of  the  aefTants  conceaied  in  a  secret  passage  under  the  house. 
But  they  are  so  terrified  by  what  has  lately  happened,  that  they 
never  dare  show  themselves,  except  durinfr  the  night-time." 

•'  E  do  not  wonder  at  it,"  replied  Catesby. 
I  "And  now  may  I  inquire  whether  vour  worship  brings  any 
tidings  of  Sir  William  RadclifTe,  and  Mistress  Viviana  ?'^  re- 
joioed  Martin.  "  1  hope  do  ill  has  befallen  them.  My  father, 
dd  Jerome  Heydocke,  set  out  to  Holywell,  a  few  days  ago,  to 
apprise  ibcm  of  theirdanger,  and  I  have  not  heard  of  them  since." 

**Sir  William    Kadcliffe   is   dead,"  replied   Catesby.     "The 
}  villains  have  murdered  him.     Your  father  is  a  prisoner." 

"Alas I  alasl"  cried  the  young  man,  bursting  into  tears; 
"  tlwie  are  fearful  times  to  live  in.     What  will  become  of  us 

aiir 

'*  We  must  rise  agnin>t  the  oppressor,**  replied  Catesby, 
•mnlr.     "Bite  the  heel  that  tramples  upon  us.'" 

•*  We  must,"  rejoined  Martin.  "  And,  if  my  poor  arm  could 
■vail,  it  should  not  be  slow  to  strike." 

"  Manfully  resolved  !"  cried  Catesby,  who  never  lost  an  op- 
portunity of  gaining  a  proselyte.  "  1  will  point  out  to  you  a 
war  by  which  you  may  aceoinplish  whut  you  desire.  But  we 
will  talk  of  this  hereafter.  Hoard  up  your  vengeance  till  the 
fittiog  moment  for  action  arrives.'* 

He  then  proceeded  to  explain  to  the  yotmg  mnn,  who  was 
matiy  surprised  by  the  intelligence,  that  Miss  Radclifte  was  nt 
uod,  and  that  the  body  of  Sir  William  had  buen  brought 
ibtther  for  interment  in  the  family  vault  at  the  Collegiate 
'  Church.  Having  ascertained  that  there  was  a  chamber,  which, 
luring  Hificred  less  than  the  otliers,  might  serve  for  Viviana's 
accommodation,  Catesby  returned  to  the  party. 

Perbap»  a  more  melancholy  cavalcade  was  never  seen  than 
now  approached  the  gates  of  Ordtiall  Hall.  First  rode  Viviana, 
in  ao  agony  of  tears,  for  her  grief  had  by  this  time  become  ab- 
aolutfly  UDCoutrollable,  with  Catesby  on  foot,  leading  her  borse. 
I  Nnt  came  (jarnet,  greatly  exiiausted,  and  depresseu  ;  his  eyes 
ca»i  drjiYtedly  on  the  ground.  Then  came  the  litter,  contain- 
ing (fuy  Fawke^;  and,  lastly,  the  vehicle  with  the  body  of  Sir 
William  Hudeliffo.  On  arriving  at  the  gate,  Viviana  was  met 
by  two  fftiiftlc  servants,  whom  Martin  Heydocke  had  sum- 
kmoned  from  their  hiding-places;  and,  as  soon  a&  she  had 
'  diMnountei],  she  wait  supported,  for  she  was  scarcely  able  to 
walk  unaided,  to  the  chamber  destined  for  her  reception.  Thia 
door,  Catesby  proceeded,  with  some  anxiety,  to  superintend  the 


GUY    PAWKES. 

removal  of  Fawkes,  who  was  perfectly  insenaible.  His  wound 
had  bled  considerably  during  the  journey;  but  the  effusion  had 
stopped,  when  the  faintnesii  supervened.  He  was  placed  iti  one 
of  the  lower  rooms  till  a  sleeping-chamber  could  he  prepared  for 
him-  The  last  task  was  to  attend  to  the  remains  of  the  late 
unfortunate  possessor  of  the  mansion.  By  Catcsby's  directions 
a  large  oak  table,  which  had  once  stood  in  the  midst  of  the 
great  nail,  was  removed  to  the  Star  Chamber,  already  described 
as  the  principal  room  of  the  house;  and,  being  securely  prop- 
ped up, —  for,  like  the  rest  of  the  furniture,  it  had  been  much 
damaged  by  the  spoilers  though,  being  of  substantial  material, 
it  offered  greater  resistance  to  their  efforts, — the  shell  contain- 
ing the  body  wa.**  placed  upon  it. 

•*  Better  he  lies  thus,"  exclaimed  Catesby,  when  the  melan- 
choly office  was  completed,  *'  than  live  to  witness  the  wreck 
around  htm.  Fatal  as  are  these  occurrences,^  he  added,  pur* 
suing  the  train  of  thought  suggested  by  the  scene,  "  they  are  yet 
favourable  to  my  purpose.  The  only  person  who  could  have 
prerented  my  union  with  Viviana  Radcliffe  —  her  father  — lies 
there.  Who  would  have  thought  when  she  rejected  my  pro- 
posal a  few  days  ago,  in  this  very  room,  how  fortune  would 
conspire —  and  by  what  dark  and  inscrutable  means  —  to  bring 
it  about  t  Fallen  as  it  is,  this  house  is  not  yet  fallen  so  loW| 
but  I  can  reinstate  it.  Its  young  mistress  mine,  her  estates 
mine, — for  she  is  now  inheritress  of  all  her  father's  possessions, 
— the  utmost  reach  of  my  anibicion  were  gained,  and  all  but  one 
object  of  my  life—  for  which  i  have  dared  so  mucli,  and  strug- 
gled so  long — achieved  !  " 

*'  What  are  you  thinking  of,  my  son  ?  **  asked  Oarnet,  who 
had  watched  the  changing  expression  of  his  sombre  counte- 
nance,— "  what  are  you  thinking  of?*"  be  said,  tapping  him  on 
the  shoulder. 

"  Of  that  which  is  never  absent  from  my  thoughts,  father  — 
the  great  design,"  replied  Catesby ;  **  and  of  the  means  of  its 
accomplishment,  whicn  this  sad  scene  su^ests.'^ 

*'  I  do  not  understand  you,  my  son,'"  rejoined  the  other. 

''  Dues  not  the  blood  which  has  there  l>een  shed  cry  aloud  for 
vengeance  ?  "  said  Catesby  ;  **  and,  think  you  that  that  slaughter- 
ed man'a  child  will  be  deaf  to  the  cry  ?  No,  father,  she  will 
no  longer  tamely  submit  to  wrongs  that  would  steel  the  gcntle&t 
bosom,  and  make  lirm  the  feeblest  arm,  but  will  gu  hand  and 
heart  with  us  in  our  project.  Viviana  must  be  mine,"  he  added, 
altering  his  tone,**Diir«,  I  should  say, — for,  if  she  is  mine,  all  the 
vast  possessions  which  have  accrued  to  her  by  lier  father^s  death 
shall  be  ilevuted  tu  the  furcherauce  of  the  mighty  enterprise." 

"  1  cannut  think  she  will  refuse  you  now,  my  son,*^  said 
Garnet. 

**  She  ihall  not  refuse  me,  father,''  rejoined  Catesby.  **  The 
time  is  gone  by  for  idle  wooing." 

'^  1  ynh  be  no  party  to  forcible  measures,  my  son,"  returned 


GUy    FAWKES. 


II 


Qarnetf  gra%*e1y.  **  As  far  as  persuasion  goes,  I  will  lend  you 
every  assistance  in  nty  power,  biil  nothinir  further.** 

•*  PcTfluusiun  is  all  that  will  be  retpiired,  I  am  assured,  father/* 
nid  Cate^by  hastily,  perceiving  he  had  committed  himself  tix> 
(ar.    ^  But  let  us  now  see  what  can  be  done  for  Guy  Fawkes." 

"  Would  that  there  were  any  hope  of  his  life  !  '*  exclaimed 
Garnet,  sighing  deeply.  "  In  losing  him,  we  lose  the  bravest 
of  our  band."^ 

"  We  do,"  returned  Catcaby.  **  And  yet  he  has  been  subject 
to  strange  fanciw  of  late." 

•*  He  has  been  appalled,  but  never  shaken,"  said  Garnet. 
••  Of  all  our  number,  the  only  two  upon  whom  I  could  rely 
were  yourself  and  Fawkes.  When  he  is  gone,  you  will  stand 
■looe.** 

"There  is  no  danger  he  would  have  undertaken  that  I  ¥rill 
Dot  as  readily  encounter,  father,"  replied  CalesbV' 

**  I  doubt  it  not,  my  son.  Let  us  go  to  him.  And  be  not 
downcast.  He  has  an  iron  frame.  While  life  lasts  there  is  ever 
bopc.** 

C«tcsb>*  shook  his  head  doubtfully,  and  led  the  way  in  silence 
to  the  cnamber  where  the  wounded  man  lay.  He  had  re- 
gained bis  consciousnesR,  but  was  too  feeble  to  speak.  After 
Mcb  restoratives  as  were  at  hand  had  been  administered,  Cates- 
by  WM  about  to  order  a  room  to  be  fitted  up  for  him,  when  Vi- 
viana,  whose  anxiety  for  the  sufferer  had  overcome  her  afflic- 
tion»  made  her  appearance. 

On  learning  Calesby's  intentions,  she  insisted  upon  Fawkes 
being  removecT to  the  room  allotted  to  her,  which  had  not  been  dis- 
maoUed  like  the  rest.  Seeing  it  was  in  vain  to  oppi>se  her,  Cates- 
by  assented,  and  the  sufferer  was  accordingly  carried  thither,  and 
placed  within  the  bed — a  large  antique  piece  of  furniture,  hung 
vith  faded  damask  curtains.  The  room  was  one  of  the  oldest 
in  the  house,  and  at  the  further  end  stood  a  small  closet,  ap- 
proached by  an  arched  doorway,  and  fitted  up  with  a  cushion 
and  crucrifix,  which,  strange  to  say,  had  escaped  tlie  vigilance 
of  the  searchers.  Placed  within  the  couch,  Ciuy  Fawkes  began 
to  ramble  as  before  about  the  conspiracy,  and  fearing  his  ravings 
might  awaken  the  suspicion  of  the  servants,  Catesby  wniiUl 
Dot  suffer  any  of  them  to  come  near  him,  but  arranged  with 
Oaroei  lo  keep  watch  over  him  by  turns.  By  decrees,  he  be- 
came more  composed  ;  and  after  doKiiig  a  little,  opened  his  eyes, 
■od,  looking  round,  inquired  anxiously  for  his  sword.  At  tirst 
CUrsby,  who  was  alone  with  him  at  the  time,  hesitated  in  his 
answer,  but  seeing  he  appeared  greatly  disturbed,  he  showed 
htm  thai  his  hat,  gauntlets,  and  rapier  were  lying  by  the  bed- 
ddf. 

"  I  UD  content,^  replied  the  wounded  roan,  smiling  faintly  ; 
**lhal  sword  has  never  left  my  side,  waking  or  ulceping,  for 
thirty  yean.  I^t  me  grasp  it  once  more  —  perhaps  fur  the 
Ust  time." 


12 


OUy    FAWKES. 


Cateaby  handed  him  tlie  weapon.     He  looked  at  it  foY  a  fevi^ 
moments,  and  pressed  the  blade  to  his  lips.  fl 

**  Farewell,  old  friend  !  "  he  said,  a  tear  gathering  in  his  eye, 
"farewell  !  Catesby,"  he  added,  as  he  resiji;ncd  the  weapon  to 
hinit  *'  I  have  one  request  to  make.  Let  that  sword  be  buried 
with  mc.^ 

**  It  shall,**  replied  Catesby,  in  a  voice  suffficated  by  emo- 
tion, for  the  request  touched  him  where  his  stem  nature  was 
most  accessible:  "  I  will  place  it  by  you  rnvself." 

"Thanks!"  exclaimed  Fawkcs;  and  soon  after  this,  he 
again  fell  into  a  slumber. 

His  sleep  endured  for  some  hours;  but  his  breathing  grew 
fainter  and  fainter,  so  that  at  the  last  it  was  scarcely  perceptible. 
A  striking  change  had  likewise  taken  place  in  his  countenance, 
and  these  signs  convinced  Calesby  he  had  not  long  to  live. 
While  he  was  watching  him  with  great  anxiety*  Viviana  ap- 
pearetl  at  the  door  of  the  chamber,  and  beckoned  him  out. 
Noiselessly  obeying  the  sunnnoiis,  and  following  her  along  the 
gallery,  he  entered  a  room  in  which  he  found  Garnet, 

"  I  have  called  yon  to  say  that  a  remedy  has  been  suggested 
to  me  by  Martin  Heydocke,"  observed  Viviana,  ••  by  which  I 
trust  Guy  Fawkes  may  yet  he  saved.** 

"  How  ?  "  asked  Catesby,  eagerly- 

**  Doctor  Deo,  the  warden  of  Manchester,  of  whom  you  must 
have  heard,"  she  continued,  '^is  said  to  possess  an  elixir  of  such 
virtue,  that  a  few  drops  of  it  will  snatcn  him  who  drinks  them 
from  the  very  jawa  of  death.^ 

•*  I  should  not  have  suspected  you  of  so  much  credulity. 
Miss  Radcliffe,"  replied  Catesby  :  **  but  grant  that  Doctor  Dee 
possesses  this  marvellous  elixir — which  for  my  own  part  I  doubt 
— how  are  we  to  obtain  it  ?  " 

'*  If  you  will  repair  to  the  college,  and  see  him,  I  doubt  not 
he  will  give  it  you,"  said  Viviana. 

Catesbv  smiled  incredulously. 

**  I  have  a  claim  upon  JX)ctor  Dee,**  she  persiste<l,  **  which  I 
have  never  enforced.     I  will  now  use  it.     Show  him  this  token,** 
she  continued,  detaching  a  small  ornament  from  her  neck;  *Mell 
him  you  bring  it  from  me,  and  I  doubt  not  he  will  comply  with  fl 
your  request."  V 

"  Your  commands  shall  be  obcye<I,  Mh»  KadclifTc,"  replietl 
Catesby  ;  "  but  1  frankly  confess  I  have  no  faith  in  the  remedy.** 

"  It  is  at  least  worth  the  trial,  my  son,'*  obser^-ed  Garnet. 
"  Doctor  Dee  is  a  wonderfid  person,  and  has  made  many  disco- 
veries in  medicine,  as  in  other  sciences,  and  this  marvellous  ape- 
cific  maVi  fur  aught  we  know,  turn  out  no  inipotiture." 

*'  If  such  is  your  opinion,**  replied  Catesby,  "  I  mIU  set  outi 
A t  once.  If  it  is  to  be  tried  at  all,  it  must  l»e  without  delay.] 
The  poor  sufferer  is  sinking  fast.'*  ' 

"  Go  then,**  cried  Viviana,  "  and  heaven  speed  your  mission  ! 
If  you  could  prevail  upon   Doctor  Dee  to  visit  the  woundecl 


GUY    FAWKES. 


13 


man  in  person,  I  should  prefer  it.  Besides,  I  have  another  re- 
quest to  make  of  him  — but  that  will  do  hereafter.  Lose  nut  a 
Dioinent  now." 

*•  [  will  fly  on  the  wing*  of  the  wind,"  replied  Cateaby. 
"  Heaven  grant  that  when  1  rt!turn  ilie  object  of  our  solicitude 
may  not  he  past  all  humau  aid  i  " 

With  this,  he  hurried  to  an  out-buiIdin|r  in  which  the  horses 
were  placed,  and  choosing  the  Btron^e&t  and  fleetest  from  out 
their  number,  mounted,  and  stiu-ted  at  lull  gallop  in  the  direction 
of  Manchester;  nor  did  he  relax  his  speed  until  he  reached  the 
gates  of  the  ancient  College.  Hanging  the  bridle  of  his  smoking 
siprd  to  a  h(X)k  in  the  wall,  he  crossed  the  large  quadran<jular 
court ;  and  finding  the  principal  entrance  open,  passed  the  lofty 
room  now  used  a&  the  refectory,  ascended  tlie  flight  of  stone 
that  conducts  the  modern  visiter  to  the  library,  and  was 
rersing  the  lung  galleries  communicating  with  it,  and  now 
"crowded  with  the  leiirning  of  ages,  when  he  encountered  a  gmve 
but  craftv-lookiiig  personage,  in  a  loose  brown  robe,  and  Polisli 
cap,  vrho  angriJv  demanded  his  busine&s. 

Apologizing  fur  the  intrusion,  Catei^by  was  about  to  explain, 
when  a  small  oak  door  near  them  wa^  partly  opened,  and  an 
authoritative  voice,  from  within,  exclaimed,  *'  Do  nut  hinder  him, 
Kelley.     I  know  his  business,  and  will  see  him." 

The  seer  made  no  further  remark,  but  pointing  to  the  door, 
Cateaby  at  once  comprehended  that  it  was  Dee's  voice  he  had 
heutl ;  and,  though  somewhat  startlfd  by  the  intimation  tliat  he 
WIS  expected,  entered  the  room.  He  found  the  Doctor  sur- 
roundea  by  his  magical  apparatus,  and  slowly  returning  to  the 
cfaair  he  had  juBt  quitted. 

Withuut  lot^tkJng  iH'liind  him  lo  see  whom  he  addressed.  Dee 
ctmlinucd.  "  I  have  just  consulted  my  show-stone,  and  know  why 
you  arc  come  hiilicr.     You  bring  a  token  from  Mi>H  Radcliffc.'* 

"  I  do,"  replied  Catenby,  in  increased  astonishment.  "  It  is 
here.'* 

"  It  is  needless  to  produce  it,"  replied  Dee,  still  keeping  his 
back  towards  him.  **  I  have  seen  it  already.  Kelley,"  he  con- 
tinued, '^^  I  am  about  to  set  out  for  Ord^ll  Hall  immediately- 
You  niu»t  accompany  n\e/' 

"Amazement  I  "  cried  Caleaby.  "  Is  the  purpose  of  my  visit 
then  really  known  to  your  reverence?" 

"  You  sliall  hear,**  rejoined  Dee,  facing  him.  "  You  have  a 
friend  who  is  at  the  point  of  death,  and  having  heard  that  I 
[N»s««s  an  elix^ir  of  wunderful  cflieacy,  are  come  in  quest  of  it.'* 

'*  True,"  replied  Cale&by,  utterly  confounded. 

"The  name  of  that  friend,"  pursued  Dee,  regarding  him 
fixedly,  '*  is  Guy  Fawkes, — your  own,  Robert  Catesby.'^ 

**  1  need  no  more  to  convince  me,  reverend  sir,  ^  rejoined 
Cate»hy,  trembling,  in  spite  of  himself,  "  that  all  I  have  heard 
of  your  wonderful  powers  falls  far  short  of  the  truth.*' 

Yau  ore  but  just  in  time,'"  replied  Dee,  bowing  gravely, 


WMM 


'AaodMr  iMor, 


it  wmiA  bvwWK^  kttL* 

*^TTtav  Tim.  t^iak  he  w^I  fire !  *  cried  Oiteabj,  eagerij. 
'-  t  am  nue  of  Et,~  reptied  I^ee,  ^^  prtmded — ** 
*^ffeRMnliit«kBi?''iatemip«cd  CAtoliy.     **  Is  tfaere  aaght 

*-Iftik'*  ■[Jhrf  Dttv  tfemly.     ^  1  mb  debattn^  wiihio  ayadl 
«taiir  k  i»  worth  while  rcTiving  faiB  ftr  a  more  (IreMfbl 

*^  WVift  nKU  joa,  rerenod  ar  ?*  adwd  Catesbj,  a  ih«fe 
pmim^  over  his  couotenance. 

**  Yoa  miilrnlifwi  mr  meaning,  and  therefore  ne^  no  expla- 
oatiaB.*  lepKed  Dee.  "  R«lura  to  OrUsall  Hall,  and  tell  Miss 
Raddiffe  I  wilt  be  there  in  an  hour.  Bid  her  have  no  further 
finr.  If  the  wouoded  man  hrcathes  when  I  arrive,  I  will  un- 
dertake to  cure  him.  Add  further,  that  I  know  the  other  re- 
quest she  desires  to  make  of  me,  and  that  it  is  granted  before  it 
is  asked.     Farewell,  sir,  for  a  short  time." 

On  reaching  the  court,  Cateftby  expanded  his  chest,  shook  his 
limbs,  and  exclaimed,  "At  length,  I  breathe  freely.  The  at- 
mosphere of  that  infernal  chamber  smelt  so  horribly  of  sulphur 
that  it  almost  stifled  me.  Well,  if  Doctor  Dee  has  not  deaJinnj 
with  the  devil,  man  never  had  f  However,  if  he  cures  Gui 
Fawkesi  I  care  not  whence  the  medicine  comes  from."^ 

Ashe  descended  Smithy  Bank,  aud  was  about  to  cross  the  old 
Widgrover  the  Irwell,  he  perceived  a  man  riding  before  Iiim, 
who  seemed  anxious  to  avoid  him.  Struck  by  this  person's 
manner,  he  urged  his  horse  into  a  quicker  pace,  and  being  the 
better  mounted  of  the  two,  soon  overtook  him,  when  to  his  sur>  _ 
|irise  he  found  it  was  Martin  Heydocke.  H 

*•  What  are  you  doing  here,  &irrah .'"'  he  demanded. 

**  I  have  b^n  sent  by  Mistress  Viviana  with  a  message  to 
Master  Humphrey  Chetham,"'  replied  the  young  man,  in  great 
contusion. 

**  ludved  !  **  exclaimed  Catesby,  angrily.  "  And  how  dared  youi 
CVttvry  a  message  to  him,  without  consulting  me  on  the  subject  P  H 

*•  1   was  not  aware  you   were  my  master,**  replied  Marti%| 
sulkily.     "  If  I  owe  obedience  to  any  one,  it  is  to  Master  Chct 
ksHS»  whose  servant  1  am.     But  if  Mistress  Viviana  gives  me  ; 
WMnmgt  to  deliver,  I  will  execute  her  commands,  whoever  may 
W  pktascd,  or  disfjleawd." 

**1  did  but  jest,  thou  saucy  knave^**  returned  Catesby,  who 
4id  WK  dcftire  to  oHend  him.  "  Here  is  a  piece  of  money  for 
ikflVi  Now»  if  it  l)e  no  secret,  what  was  Miss  Kadcliffc's  message 
l»  iht  n»a»UT  ?  ^ 

^  1  ktkuw  not  what  her  tetter  contained,"  replied  Martin  ;  "  but 
kit!  MAver  was  that  he  would  come  to  the  hall  at  ni^litfatl.'" 

^  It  U  well  1  ascertained  this,"  tliou^bt  Catesby,  and  he  addcd^ 
^*  1  uodcrstood  your  master  had  been  arrested  and 


impn- 


OUY   PAWKE9. 


15 


'"So  he  was"  replied  Martin;  "  but  he  had  interest  enough 
irith  the  Commissioners  to  procure  his  liberation.'* 

*'  Kmiugli,"  replied  Catesby,  and  striking  spurs  into  bis 
charger,  he  dasheii  off. 

A  quarter  of  ao  hour's  hard  riding  brought  him  to  the  hall, 
and,  on  arriving  there,  he  proceeded  at  once  to  the  wounded 
iBan*s  chamber,  where  he  found  Viviana  and  Garnet. 

**  Have  you  succeeded  in  your  errand?"  cried   the  former, 

MgeHy.     "  Will  Doctor  Dee  come,  or  has  he  sent  the  elixir?  " 

•'  He  will  bring  it  himself,"  replied  Catesby. 

Viviana  uttered  an  exclauiatiua  of  joy,  and  the  sound  ap|)ear- 

rd  to  reach  the  ears  of  the  sufferer,  for  he  stirred,  and  groaned 

fiuotlr. 

"  Doctor  Dee  desired  me  to  tell  you,  Miss  Radcliffe,"  said 
Catesby*  drawing  her  aside,  and  speaxing  in  a  low  toa^  '*  that 
your  other  reauesl  was  granted." 

ViWana  looked  surprised,  and  as  if  she  did  not  clearly  under. 
sUnd  him. 

"Might  he  not  refer  to  Master  Humphrey  Chetham.'"  con- 
tinued Catesby,  somewhat  maliciously. 

"Ah!  you  have  learnt  from  Martin  Heydocfce  that  I  have 
written  to  him,"  returned  Viviana,  blushing  deeply.  *'  What  I 
was  about  to  ask  of  Doctor  Dec  had  no  reference  to  Master 
Cbsthftm.  It  was  to  ret^uest  periuissiuu  to  privately  inter  my 
bihrr's  remains  in  our  family  vault  in  the  CoU^ate  Church. 
Uut,  how  did  he  know  I  had  any  request  to  make  ?** 

**  That  passes  my  comprehension,  replied  Catesby,  **  unless 
Wobudned  his  information  from  his  familiar  spirits. 

Shortly  after  this.  Doctor  Dee  and  Kelley  arrived  at  the  hall, 
Cftlcsby  met  them  at  tlie  gate,  and  conducted  them  to  the  wound- 
ed man's  chamber.  Coldly  saluting  Garnet,  whom  he  eyed  with 
sutpicion,  aad  bowing  respectfully  to  Viviana,  the  Doctor  slowly 
Advanced  to  the  bediiide.  He  gaxed  for  a  short  time  at  the 
wounded  man,  and  folded  his  arms  thouglitfully  upon  his  breast. 
Tbe  CjTMof  the  sufferer  were  closed,  and  his  lips  sightly  a[>nrt, 
but  oo  breath  seemed  to  i^8ue  from  them.  His  bronzed  com- 
plexion had  assumed  the  ghastly  hue  of  death,  and  his  atrongly- 
tnarkcd  features  had  become  fiited  and  rigid.  His  black  hair, 
fttlfTeoed  and  caked  with  blood,  escaped  from  the  bandages 
around  his  head,  and  hung  in  elf-locks  on  the  pillow.  It  was  a 
piteous  spectacle.  And  Doctor  Dee  appeared  much  moved  by  it. 
"The  worst  is  over,**  he  muttered  :  "  why  recall  the  spirit  to 
its  wretched  tenement?" 

*Mfvou  can  save  him,  reverend  sir,  do  not  hesitate ;"  im- 
ptoned  Viviana. 

"  I  am  come  hither  for  that  purpose,"  replied  Dee;  "but  I 
must  have  no  other  witness  to  the  ex{>eriment  except  yourself, 
and  mv  attendant  Kelley." 

^  1  do  not  desire  to  be  present,  reverend  sir,*"  replied  Vivixma ; 


18 


THE    CONTRABANDISTA. 


extremities  are  in  utter  darkness.  N^r  the  door  arc  ranged  the  differ-* 
ent  vehicles  of  the  country,  "  galeras  ;"  and  here  and  there  about  the 
pillars,  the  bajifgageand  trunks  of  the  different  caravans  are  disposed. 
Opposite  to  the  door,  in  the  midst  of  a  little  paved  hearth,  the  fire  of 
hospitality  is  kept  constantly  alight.  The  smoke  escapes  how  it  can, 
either  by  the  narrow  loop-holes,  or  by  the  chinks  between  the  rafters 
and  the  roof,  for  chimney  there  is  none. 

One  partition  only  exists  in  the  comer  of  this  barn-  It  is,  u  it 
were,  a  hnt  within  a  house,  an  asylum  reserved  for  the  landlord  and 
his  family.  Against  this,  upon  some  thick  planks  of  wood,  are 
ranged  with  great  regularity  some  enormous  vessels  of  red  earthen- 
ware, which,  to  avoid  the  trouble  of  constantly  fetching  water  from 
the  well,  contain  some  days'  provision  for  the  animals,  whilst  water 
of  a  better  description,  in  va*(es  of  a  lighter  kind  of  clay,  unbaked> 
U  carefully  stowed  away  for  the  utie  of  the  guests  at  the  venta.  ^| 

It  was  in  this  splendid  apartment,  and  as  near  to  the  fire  as  the^'^H 
could  contrive  to  get,  that  the  new  arrivals  formed  a  group.  A  great 
many  others  had  already  taken  up  their  quarters,  strelchetJ  at  full 
length  in  their  cloaks  or  blankets,  the  only  beds  in  the  hostelry,  or 
were  seated  cross-legged  in  the  Eastern  fashion  round  long  tables 
on  the  ground,  and  taking  their  frugal  meal  from  the  provisions 
which  they  had  brought  with  them,  for  none  were  to  be  obtained  in 
the  place. 

"Ave  Alaria  Santissima!"  was  the  salutation  of  the  company. 
"  Good  evening,  caballeros  ;  may  God  bless  your  repast !  "  the  reply. 
This  exchange  of  greetings  is  common  even  among  the  lowest  ranks. 
Many  invited  the  new  comers  to  partake  of  their  supper ;  for  Arab 
hospitality  is  still  kept  up  in  that  land,  so  long  emancipated  from 
their  yoke ;  and  no  good  Spaniard  thinks  of  eating  or  drinking  with- 
out inviting  those  around  him,  often  even  the  passers  by,  to  partake, 
of  his  meal. 

These  compliments  having  been  exchanged  on  both  sides,  a  pro- 
found silence  reigned  in  the  venta ;  and,  thanks  to  the  darkness,  we 
might  almost  fancy  ourselves  in  complete  Kulitude,  were  it  not  for 
the  monotonous  noise  which  so  many  bipeds  and  quadrupeds  made 
in  eating,  ^ 

Close  to  the  fire,  which,  being  now  replenished,  flashed  full  onV 
their  faces,  were  a  group  that  particularly  attracted  my  attention. 
It  consisted  of  three  persons,  a  girl  and  two  youths,  all  of  a  beauty 
so  remarkable,  that  even  in  that  land,  where  it  is  so  common,  1 
never  saw  it  equalled.  The  girl,  whose  name  was  ^klnrgarita,  M-as 
about  sixteen  or  seventeen ;  but,  owing  to  that  climate,  where  fe- 
males arrive  at  maturity  at  an  earlier  {leriod,  she  was,  and  had  been 
some  time,  a  woman,  and  offered  at  once  the  most  striking'  con- 
trast between  infantine  gaiety  and  coquetry.  She  was  of  middle 
height  J  her  Urge  black  eyes  sparkled  with  a  vii^inal  candour, 
though  they  at  times  expressed  the  energy  of  passion;  \e^s,  as  it  ap- 

F eared,  the  result  of  present  than  the  prognostic  of  future  emotions, 
have  spoken  of  her  eyes,  and  you  must  excuse  my  speaking  of 
them  still ;  they  shone  from  under  their  long  brown  lashes  and  thick 
brows,  like  the  aim  through  a  dark  cloud. 

The  complexion  of  this  young  Andalusian  was  very  different  from 
that  on  which  English  women  so  much  pride  themselves,  it  was 
pale,  and  clear,  and  brown,  and  set  off*  by  tresses  of  a  jetty  black. 


THE   CONTRABANDtSTA. 


19 


**  An  Anb  hon&— « ttately  sltff — a  barb 
New  brok«— a  caineleopard — a  gazelle — " 

Ko—  none  of  them  will  do  by  way  of  comparison  —  no  simile  will 
define  or  liken  her;  but  I  never  saw  the  like. 

I  must  now  introduce  you  to  the  cousin.  He  wm  about  Iwenty- 
■ercn  or  iwenly-eight  years  of  age>  with  an  open  countenance  and  a 
kappy  insouciance,  Hiu  features  were  regular;  his  eye^  resembled 
abnsier,  which  at  every  instant  threw  out  sparkles  of  fire;  he  had 
atao  raven-black  hair,  and  a  complexion  dork  as  a  Moor.  For  an 
Andalusian.  he  wa»  taller  than  they  usually  are,  and  wore  the 
•k^gint  cabas  commanly  in  use  in  that  province.  The  "  retecilla,"  or 
m  of  green  silk,  fitted  closely  to  the  head,  from  which,  however, 
•oeae  few  locks  escaped ;  his  short  iacket  was  of  velvet,  ornamented 
vitb  ribands,  and  enlaced  with  silver  buttons ;  a  handkerchief  uf 
red  lilk,  negligently  tied  about  his  neck,  fastened  his  shirt  of  coarse 
linen  cjvct  his  ample  chest ;  a  scarf,  or  girdle,  also  of  red  silk,  cn- 
dreleil  hu  iraist  in  many  folds,  and  half  hid  a  purse  and  a  poniard ; 
ti^lit  breeches,  of  a  coarse  brown  cloth,  scarcely  covered  his  knees ; 
•ad  gaiiers  and  leathern  shoes  of  yellow  morocco  completed  the 
Mitome  of  the  young  Afaio. 

The  brocher  of  Afargarita  was  some  years  older,  and  had  a  serious 
and  determined  Inok,  as  though  he  had  led  an  adventurous  life,  and 
Mlawed  the  profession,  common  in  the  country,  of  a  contraband! sta. 
Secfa,  indeed,  he  was. 

In  the  cotirie  of  the  evening,  the  young  Bfaio  asked  for  a  guitar, 
iiid  said,  "  Gentlemen,  shall  I  sing  you  the  Tragala?  "  The  "  Tra- 
pla  **  u  in  Spain  what  the  "  Ca  ira  "  was  in  the  First  French  Re- 
nilatMni,  or  the  Alarsellaii. 

ICirAnta  pointed  to  one  of  the  pillars,  against  which  were  bus- 
pmded  by  a  peg  a  pair  of  cavalry  boots. 

"Weil,"  said  he,  with   a  burst  of  laughter,    "what  then?"  — 

*  What  then !  "  she  replied.     "  They  may  belong  to ;  he  may 

•bI  be  one  of  ours." 

*■  No  matter,"  said  Alvas. 

"  Pray,"  said  Margarita,  with  a  voice  that  trembled,  "  do  not,  for 
tbff  lake  of  a  song,  run  the  risk  of  a  (junrrel." 

Bat  Alvas  tuned  his  instrument,  and  with  his  6ne  sonorous  voice 
dnredered  out  the  Tragala,  in  which  many  of  the  party  joined 
iWna.     It  was  received  with  enthusiasm, — and  after  the  bravos  had 

"*  Sacens,"  aaid  Alvas,  "  to  the  amis  of  Christino,  and  damnation 
lo  the  Pretender !  " 

Scarcely  had  he  spoken  the  words,  when  one  of  the  guests  ad- 
nneed  towards  Alvas.  He  was  a  man  of  forty  years  of  age,  of  a 
eoonuuKling  stature  and  military  air,  end  was  enveloped  in  a  cloak 
(hat  lud  aeen  many  a  campaign.  He  was,  in  fact,  returning  irom  his 
1  lo  the  head-quarters  of  Don  Carlos. 
"  It  is  said  that  we  cannot  resist  our  destiny.  At  all  events  we 
*■  often  in  a  mood  to  brave  it,  or  to  yield  to  the  impulse  of  our  pas- 
Bat  Bttte  coring  for  the  consequences.  The  satirist  has  oAen  lost 
'  Ilia  hew  firiend  by  an  irrexistible  hon  mot,  or  epigram  ;  the  caricotur. 
ht  by  a  sketch.  A  look  of  scorn,  or  a  hasty  word,  which  cannot  be 
rccaued,  or  which  pride  forbids  us  to  retract,  have  led  to  many  a 
MHie  of  bloodahed.    So  with  this  officer. 

c  2 


«0 


THE  CONTRADANDISTA. 


Eyeing  the  company  with  a  look  of  scorn,  be  said,  "  I  will  allow 
no  one  in  my  presence  to  be  wanting  in  respect  to  our  legitlmatf^H 
sovereign ! "  ^| 

"  Legitimate  sovereign,   indeed !  "   muttered    Alvaa,   and    then, 
"The  Constitution  for  ever!      Down  willi  the  Pretender  !  "  he  vo- 
ciferated, his  voice  rising  tojbrlitr'tmo  under  tlie  fiery  impulse  of  hia^f 
feelings.  ^^ 

"  Who  are  you,"  demanded  the  Captain,  "  that  you  venture  to 
talk  thus?" 

"  My  name,"  said  the  young  man,  rising,  "  is  Alvas." 

"Alvas,"  replied  the  other.  "  I  know  that  name.  If  I  mistak^ 
not,  you  once  attacked  an  escort  which  1  commanded.  You  are  4 
contrabandist  and  a  brigand." 

"  Liar !  "  retorted  Alvas.     "  You  shall  answer  for  this." 

At  thciie  words  Margarita  ftprang  from  the  ground,  and  threw  he^ 
arms  about  Alvas,  cryinj»,  "Jesu  Maria!  Alvas,  be  calm!  Think  of 
me."  Alvas,  however,  shaking  her  off",  and,  tearing  the  TetcciUa  from 
his  l)ead,  and  throwing  it  down  on  the  Hmir  with  violence,  struck 
the  officer  a  blow  that  nearly  felle<l  him  to  the  ground. 

He  who  has  not  experienced,  can  scarcely  conceive  what  a  terri- 
ble effect  a  blow  produces.     That  flet-h,  grntiiig  agiiinst  your  flexh, 
seems,  as  it  were,  to  tear  your  heart  out.     You  feel  the  bloocl  curdle 
within  you — the  fire  of  Khainc  consumes  you.     The  stain  of  auch 
degradation  can  only  be  washed  out  with  blood. 

Several  of  the  party  now  got  up,  and  separated  the  infuria 

"To-morrow,"  muttered  the  officer,  grinding  his  teeth. 

"  To-morrow  be  it,"  repeated  Alvas. 

Silence  wa<t  again  restored,  only  interrupted  by  the  snoring  of  the 
guests,  that  formed  a  concert  on  all  sides.     Whether  Alvas  and  the 
officer  joined  in  it  I  know  nut;  but  tiie  recollection  of  the  scene  I 
have  described,  of  the  blow,  and  the  reply,  might  well  disturb  their- 
slumbers.  M 

At  daybreak,  as  the  caravan  was  preparing,  in  maritime  phrasej^ 
to  get  under  weigh,  I  observed  the  officer  parading  backwards  and 
forwards  before  the  inn,  in  tlie  midst  of  the  muleteers  busily  en- 
gaged in  saddling  the  horiteK  and  luudiug  the  beasts  of  burtheu.  He 
was  at  times  muttering  to  himself  curses  agninst  the  Chribtinos.  He 
was  waiting  for  Alvas,  sword  in  hand  ;  and  the  whole  of  the  com- 
pany at  the  inn,  after  the  line  was  fcinned,  were  talking  In  groups, 
and  lingering  in  expectation  of  the  duel,  which  they  knew  to  be  in- 
evitable. Alvas  soon  made  his  appearance,  accompanied  by  Marga- 
rita and  her  brother.  The  timid  and  frightened  girl  was  clinginu  to 
her  lover.     But  as  soon  as  he  saw  his  adversary  he  threw  her  off. 

■'Back,  girl!"  he   said.      "Hold  her."      Then  turning  to   the 
officer,  he  said  to  him,  "We  have  an  account  to  settle.     Make 
circle."  said  he  to  the  caballeros.     ''Every  one  his  own  arms." 

With  thoiic  word;!  he  threw  his  mantle  from  off  his  shoulder,  and 
rolling  it  round  his  left  arm.  the  poniard  in  his  right,  he  rushed  at 
his  antagonist.  The  officer  could  nut  but  be  aware  how  critical  was 
the  situation  in  which  he  stood.  Wherever  he  turned  his  eyes  he 
saw  none  but  hostile  faces  anil  threatening  looks. 

Being  an  inhabitant  of  Andalusia,  where  he  had  served  for  some 
years,  he  was  known  to  several  of  the  party,  among  the  rest,  to  the 


rdle 

1 


rRABANDISTA. 


n 


Ser  of  Mttrgarita,  a*  having  shown  great  activity  in  the  appre- 
bduion  of  fimuji;f(lers  anil  bandits ;  and,  consequently,  waa  more  dv~ 
tUUd  oti  that  account  than  as  a  partisan  f>r  ]}on  Carlos.  It  might 
ttf  lupptt^pil  ihat  one  who  had  declared  himself  openly  an  enemy  to 
the  Constitution,  and  the  existing  Government,  would  have  incurred 
rifit  to  his  personal  liberty  in  declaring  such  political  opinions ;  but 
u  thv  civil  war  hud  only  juMt  broke  nut,  and  the  priests  were  (there 
were  several  among  the  assembled  travellers)  secretly,  if  not  openly, 
I  friendly  to  the  cause  he  espoused,  and  advocates  tor  the  ancient 
fftate  of  thingn,  no  grounds  existed  for  such  an  apprehension.  He 
ran  much  more  danger,  even  if  a  victor  in  the  slriCe,  from  the 
dagger  of  tlie  kinsman  of  Margarita.  13ut  no  such  thoughts  did  he 
RKcrcJun,  or  if  they  for  a  moment  crobeed  his  mind,  the  recollection 
of  his  stinging  insult,  loyalty  to  his  sovereign,  in  nhoftc  cause  he 
had  received  it,  and  the  disgrace  and  shame  of  submitting  tu  the 
indignity,  and  leaving  it  unavenged,  nerved  his  arm  tvitli  resolution 
to  abide  the  conflict 

An  old  friar  made  an  attempt  to  stop  the  effusion  of  blood ;  but 
Ml  all  %idcH  a  cry  was  heard,  "  Let  them  alone  !  Let  thorn  fight  it 
«vt ! "  A  circle  was  now  formed  about  the  two  combatants;  the 
brecherof  Margarita  vociferating  that  whoever  p^e^umed  to  inter- 
far  shoDid  be  rejtponsible  tfj  him  for  the  attempt.  As  for  poor 
Xai^arita,  without  seeming  to  be  terror-struck,  its  a  young  per- 
MD  of  ber  age  under  such  circumstances  would  naturally  nave 
bam,  ahe  was  seen  on  her  knees  in  a  comer  of  the  building,  pray- 
i*f  fervently  to  the  "  Santa  Vlrgen,"' —  not  to  separate  the  com- 
hvUnia,  but  to  preserve  the  life  of  her  cousin.  Still  it  might  be 
perodv«>d,  that  this  scene,  had  it  not  been  for  the  interest  she  felt 
lor  ooe  of  the  combatants,  would  have  caused  her  no  particular  as- 
teniahtngnt  or  terror. 

The  daughter  of  the  innkeeper  was  at  her  side,  endeavouring  to 
ecnufort  her  by  her  caresses ;  and  from  time  to  time  turning  her 
head  round  with  a  female  curiosity  to  observe  how  the  duel  proceed- 
ad.  With  that  tact,  which  all  women  have,  she  ejilmly  perceived 
ibe  caas«  of  Margarita's  anxiety  as  to  the  issue  of  the  conflict,  and 
tan  ocmcriving  that  she  could  have  any  other  fear  than  that  of  losing 
htt  lover,  kept  calling  nut  with  wild  and  almost  snvage  accent»— 

"Coarwe,  my  angel ! — never  fear,  my  dear  little  innocent  I  The 
a<ic*r  will  be  killetl.  Alvas  will  nut  have  a  hair  uf  tiis  head  injured. 
I  keve  ae«n  many  affairs  of  this  kind.  With  a  good  poninrd  a  man 
hae  ooUling  to  fear  from  a  sabre.  Let  him  say  his  last  Ave  l^Iaria, 
—  the  poor  officer  I  —  if  he  knows  it  by  heart.  And  yet  it  is  a  pity 
nch  a  tumdsome  Don,  but  Alvas  is  handsome  too;  and  then  he  is 
a  Oirittino." 

Whilst  the  women  were  thus  engaged  the  fight  became  more  and 
nan  Milmaied.  The  officer,  who  was  an  excellent  fencer,  as  well  as 
twordaman,  at  first  kept  upon  the  defensive,  following  with  his  eye, 
attd  the  point  of  his  sword,  every  movement  of  the  young  Mnio ; 
bat  he  rendered  all  his  science  of  no  avail  by  his  manner  of  fighting. 
Kow  turning  with  the  nimblene^s  of  n  cat  round  und  round  him  ; 
sow  standing  motionlesn,  or  bending  almost  to  the  ground,  his  lefX 
ana  in  fr<mt ;  and,  unrolling  the  ample  folds  of  the  mantle  in  which 
Ke  was  enveloped,  whilst,  behind  this  sort  of  curtain,  his  right  hand 
mnad>ly  brandished  his  long  and  formidable  poniard. 


JSS  AN   ASPIRATION    FOR   PLACE. 

At  lut.  impatient  of  being  kept  so  long  in  check,  the  officer 
asaumetl  the  ofTensive,  and  pressed  his  adversary,  attacking  him 
■with  fury. 

"  He  IS  done  for,"  said  an  old  Torres,  as  he  looked  on,  con  amore, 
"  It  is  all  over  with  Alvas."  Such,  in  fwct,  it  would  have  apjieared  ; 
but  by  a  feint,  Alvas  all  of  a  sudden  let  fall  his  cloak.  The  otiicer 
lifted  his  arm  to  cut  him  down,  and  at  that  instant  fell  to  the  earth. 
One  groan,  and  all  was  over.  The  dropping  of  the  cloak  was.  as  I 
said,  a  feint  in  order  to  persuade  his  enemy  to  put  himself  off  his 
guard  ;  and,  with  the  rapidity  of  liglitning  he  had  run  in  upon  him, 
and  buried  his  poniard  to  the  hilt  in  his  stomach.  So  great  the  force 
with  which  the  blow  was  struck  that  Alvas'  thick  cloak,  transfixed  i 
by  t!ie  dagger  before  it  reached  the  side  of  his  adversary,  was  pinned^f 
to  the  wound.  ^M 

"  May  God  have  mercy  on  his  soul !  "  said  the  murderer,  making 
a  sign  of  the  cross,  and  turning  with  a  look  of  pity  away  irom  hic^ 
fallen  antagonist.  ^M 

"  Come,  Alvas,"  said  the  brother  of  Margarita;  "what  is  done  li^" 
done.    It  was  a  glorious  victory.   And  now,  have  a  care  of  yourself: 
I  see  some  carabineers  at  the  top  of  the  bill     Take  my  horse.   Time 
pressea.     Take  leave  of  Margarita,  and  away." 

At  the  name  of  Margariu,  Alvas  made  a  step  towards  her  ;  but 
stopping  of  A  sudden.  "  No,"  said  he,  "  not  with  these  hands  of 
blood.  No.  Adieu,  adieu  I  Margarita — dear  Mai^arita  !  fare  thee 
well  I  "  Springing  on  his  horse,  he  put  his  spurs  into  its  sides,  and 
for  some  minutes  the  profound  silence  kept  by  the  witnesBcs  of  this 
scene  of  blood  was  only  broken  by  the  gallop  of  the  horse,  till  lost  in 
the  distance. 

At  last  the  trot  of  the  carabineers  was  heard,  and  the  rattling  of 
their  ftabres.  The  caravan  was  in  motion.  Margarita,  still  on  her 
knees,  thanked  the  "Santa  Virgen,"  in  tears,  for  having  given  the 
victory  to  Alvas,  including  in  her  prayers  the  name  of  the  officer  ; 
whilst  the  girl  of  the  inn  related  circumstantially  all  the  details  of 
the  struggle.  The  corpse  was  placed  on  a  hurdle,  and  carried  by 
the  soldiers  to  the  nearest  village  for  interment. 

With  Margarita  and  her  brother,  I  soon  overtook  the  caravan." 


AN  ASPIRATION  FOR  PLACE. 


If  kisses  be  the  cota  of  Love, 
Tb«  die  sweet  womsn's  rosy  raouth, 

FouDd  still  on  earth,  where'er  wc  rove. 
Or  east,  ur  west,  or  north,  or  southj 

Let  Statesmen  on  to  glory  plod, 

And  climb  Ambition's  psths  offltnl; 
I  ooly  wish  the  little  God 

Would  make  mc  master  of  his  mint. 


B.J.M. 


23 


THE  JOLLY  MILLER. 


A    PHAUHENT. 


Ir  was  a  sultry  day  in  the  month  of  July,  and  tbere  wu  scarcely 
*ind  enouj^h  to  blow  «  thistle  down. 

Litllir  urchins,  with  red  faces,  were  chasing  the  butterflies,  jacket- 
io-hand  ;  while  Konie  trletl  in  vain  to  raise  their  paper-kites,  running 
ta  every  direction  of  the  compass;  but  both  ^'Eolus  and  Boreas 
■rcrocd  otit  of  breath,  and  they  cciuld  nut  compass  their  design. 

LoIIiag  indulcntly  at  the  foirt  of  his  mill-steps  stood  a  stout  miller 
whistling  merrily,  when  a  stranf^er,  who  had  been  for  some  time 
•lowlv  toiling  up  the  hill,  accosted  him. 

••  Why  dost  thou  whiallc,  friend  ?  "  said  he. 

"  For  Uck  of  wind,"  replied  the  miller  abruptly  ;  tnd  the  stranger 
■nUcd  at  the  paradoxical  reply. 

"  Tbira  art  sliort — "  continued  he, 

**  Seme  aix  feet,  at  any  rate,"  answered  the  miller,  drawing  him- 
wITim. 

••  Than  'rt  a  merry  »oul." 

"  Merry  ? — pshaw  !— flat  as  a  cask  of  unbunged  ale — no  .'•^-that  '9 
viiHly — rather  like  an  unblown  bladder,  for  that 's  flat  for  the  some 
roMC^ — want  of  wind." 

"  Thm  thou  art  only  in  spirits  when  thy  mill 's  going  like  a  rac^ 
harm." 

**  That 't  a  bad  compvison,"  said  the  miller ;  "  for  my  mill  only 
faet  when  it  's  bluivn, — aid  that 's  just  when  a  horse  stops." 

**True ;  1  should  have  said  an  ass,  for  that,  too,  goes  the  better 
fcr  •  blow." 

**  Tboa  baat  hit  it,"  saii  the  miller,  laughing ;  "  and  I  shall  hence- 
farth  never  see  a  donkey  without  thinking " 

••  Of  roe  ?  "  anticipate  the  atranper.  joining  in  the  laugh.  "  Sure- 
ly," continued  he,  "lliineis  a  happy  vocation.  Thy  situation,  too,  is 
10  mach  above  the  riches  of  thy  neighbours,  —  nay,  even  the  great 
lord  of  the  manor  himseUmust  look  little  from  tlie  height  thou  be- 
hoMMt  hanL" 

••  Whr,  yes,"  replied  tie  miller  ;  "  and,  although  I  be  not  a  proud 
■an,  I  fook  down  upon  al ;  for  not  only  the  peasant,  but  the  squire, 
is  bcoemth  me.  'Tis  true  like  another  tradesninn,  I  depend  upon  my 
miU  for  a  livelihood  ;  bit  1  draw  all  my  money  from  the  farmer's 
M/.-  and  then,  all  the  hungry  look  up  to  me  for  their  tneal." 

'•  How  grateful  ought  all  to  be  for  thy  favours  !  ** 

"  Ay»  indeed ;  for,  vhere  would  be  either  the  highest  or  the 
Imcat  hread  without  ny  exertions  ^  To  be  sure,  if  they  be  un. 
gntenit  I  can  give  then  the  sack  I  " 

"  Every  mouth  ought  to  be  filled  with  the  miller's  praise,"  said 
the  nningcr. 

"  Ortainly,"  added  tfie  miller ;  **for  every  mouth  would  be  im- 
pcrfrct  without  the  gritders." 

Here  Uiry  budi  joined  in  a  hearty  laugh ;  and  the  jolly  miller, 
ftadiag  the  stranger's  opinions  and  sentiments  so  flattenngly  in 
miMn  with  his  own.Bive  him  an  invitation  to  taste  his  malt»  while 
tiMy  coaversed  upon  us  meal. 

'  H.  W. 


:.  .NT-ilN?.  IX  BRAZIL. 

.-.•:'  jzv'-T.  :>  :*r  from  prepossess- 

ij—  V  i2'i  c.rtT.  the  houses  low, 

-   .:.4?rc  ■>:!■  »:«rttitute  of  symmetry 

, ._-    i£  ■  luilding,  possessing  as 

.,  .1.:  Js.     A  few  soldiers   were  on 

._-.».t-Ci:( :  tw-o  sentries  sauntered 

-lie  ictt-end  of  their  muskets 

_>.-   :i  ;?:i:h  of  their  mouths.     The 

.   ^^'j  on  duty ;  but,  in  lieu  of  the 

-  .v^.    At  ll  is  moment  a  female  slave 

...cr  ivoa  her  head.    '*  Agoa,"  cried 

^    :  ..vnxeras?,  hetook  a  longdraught, 

«.i.:t  rc'^iiumel  his  laborious  duties  at 

•..-  irrived  at  the  fruit-market.  Black 

,.    ..va::s,  and  long  gold  earrings,  were 

;    t'  ciie  marlet,  and  before  them  lay 

e  trA::je-tree,\vith  tigs,  grapes,  pines, 

.  ■..■f  on  they  vere  Kelling  sugar-canes 

•.i«.-c  less  tempting  than  anything  else 

^       ..  t':  -^ere  playiig  uijon  a  sort  of  small 

■^      - 1.' '^-. -selves,  aid  the  sound  of  which  is 

^     t.  >   wiiuld  ieem  to  promise.     It  is 

-t    .  :  I.-  :rv>n  bar^  not  unlike  a  mousetrap. 

.    A  . .:  Mjuaresin  Rio;  but  the  only  to- 

.  f    the  aboie  of  the  French  colony. 

....•    ■    'I'linifii'incs,  oijcvrcs,  and  every 

y-\-.w'h  prodice  are  exorbitant,  nearly 

>.     I  ::ien  visited  the  custom-house  and 

..>-  i'Uihiings,  and  worthy  of  no  sort  of 

^  -,\:s  were  ttier.ibly  full.      The  green 

*  »-.-v  half  upei,  and  women's  faces  were 

^  .  >-.ts  at  thi  windows  of  the  Kez  de 

.   ..  ..se  the  tinkliig  sound  of  some  sort  of 

.  .  ;.cu  there  are  at  least  twenty  different 

•j^  :own  of  Rin  I  departed  on  a  visit  to 

.     t  --r-e  Organ  IVkuntains,  at  the  distance 

.  ^     iure  I  remaiied  some  months,  and  was 

_..  .;"  :he  society  aid  manners  of  the  land- 

>c  ••'.I'rior  of  the  country.    At  six  in  the 

,.  .:rrfd  ready  fir  my  departure  to  the 

:^>  f>t.ites  being  ulled  "  fazendas."     The 

^-  -.T'.m'd  hv  water— a  boat  leaving  Rio  for 

.  tf.    iht.  wi'th  a  thrk,  substantial  awning, 

...v-ri'd  by  un  Itilian  from  Genoa.     iVIy 

.;.'.tSf.  who  devmred  bims-huns  for  two 

.     <.f  to  sleep.     Wi  Jiassed  many  beautiful 

*-;  \x*.  ."'*i  fruits,  am  Howers,  were  growing 

*  .;  sht'se  isl*-*  ^'1**'*^  ^^^^  huilt  npon,  which 

..'i'.r  I'thcrwisc  romaitic  appearance.     One 


THF.    ORGAN    MOUNTAINS    IN    BAA/.IL.  9$ 

H  coTcnd  with  Ul-conitructed,  daubed  yellow  hnuses,  belonging  to  the 
ciiiseni  and  rentien  of  Rio.  Wheu  we  arrired  at  the  little  village  of 
Pjcdtde,  we  hmded,  snd  I  found  my  uncleV  guide  snd  two  niules  in 
mdioess  to  conduct  mc  to  the  fasenda.  The  guide  was  one  of  the 
llucrpeft-looking  boys  I  ever  saw,  perftclty  bluck,  with  a  very  iMephis- 
Ippfcelcs  expreftioon.  He  wore  a  wnitv  turban^  and  Turkish  white  trou* 
im,  iKold  earrings,  and  no  shoes  or  Etockin^.  He  went  by  tlie  name 
•f  ifac  Bhick  Dwarf,  and  has  made  hiniKflf  famous,  as  I  afterwards 
Wvnifd,  by  a  variety  of  exploits.  Two  years  before  he  had  run  awray 
to  Ovngo  with  a  titUe  black  girl,  and  hud  committed  several  daring 
mbbrrteii,  for  which  he  had  been  liranded  on  both  sides  of  his  face. 

On  arriving  at  Triescbiil.  at  the  foot  of  the  Organ  Alountain,  we 
hailed  for  the  night  at  an  inn  by  the  roadside.  There  was  only  one 
mm,  in  which  were  nine  beds;  but  I  was  lucky  in  h»ring  one  all  to 
ayielf,  together  with  the  furniture,  consisting  of  a  block  for  a  table, 
Arrr  chairs,  and  a  wash  hand-stand,  besides  a  most  superb  pair  of 
(Uatcd  candleaticks  and  wax-lights,  which  were  ill  in  keeping  with  the 
Bare  humble  decorations  of  the  dormitory.  At  live  io  the  morning 
the  Btu]e«  were  snddled,  and  we  agnin  started.  From  the  foot  of  the 
••ontftin  the  roads  became  dreadful,  and  the  scenery  much  wilder, 
with  huge  precipices,  and  gigantic  trees  and  thickets.  Sometimes  we 
«civ  obliged  to  dismount,  and  lead  our  mules.  I  observed  several 
l^tft  of  purrota  ond  other  beautiful  birds;  but  nothing  pleased  me 
■ere  than  to  watch  the  bumming- birdie,  and  to  observe  them  dartinir 
bito  the  flowers.  They  are  not  easily  frightened.  It  is  extremely  dif^ 
tenh  to  kitl  them  without  injuring  the  feathers.  The  wild  ilowers  in 
lint  MTBge  spot  were  lovely  in  the  extreme.  A  pattern  bouquet 
venld  make  the  fortune  of  a  French  fieuriste,  or  desiguer  in  em- 
breUrrr.  After  many  ditficultiert,  about  ten  o'clock  we  gained  the 
Up  of  the  mountain,  and  were  now  upon  the  estate  ;  and  in  a  few  mi- 
anlvs  I  arrived  at  the  house,  and  received  the  hearty  welcome  of  its 
mmrr.  The  skin  of  a  spotted  ounce  was  banging  up  before  the  door, 
with  its  twth  and  claws  a&  trophies.  Hunting  expeditions  sometimes 
tike  piftcc  here  for  several  days  together;  the  blacks  carr)'ing  provi- 
Mu,  Bod  at  night  knocking  up  little  huts  with  a  few  sticks,  and  the 
loPM  ef  the  pum-tree.  Opposite  the  house  was  an  encamjiment  of 
■tnleteen;  ■  large  wood  fire  was  biasing  under  a  shed,  where  the 
vfcale  pony  were  busily  engaged  in  uooking  their  ^eisao,  ur  beans. 
TVy  all  wore  the  poncho  —  a  Targe  piece  of  clotli,  with  a  bole  in  the 
Btdale*  for  the  head ;  large  straw  hats,  no  shoes  and  stockings,  but 
I  Urge  spur  attached  to  the  left  heel  only  ;  which,  with  the  belt  con- 
taining their  large  knives,  completed  the  costume.  Tlie  mules  com- 
pSMiig  the  troop,  thirty  in  number,  were  gMxing  about,  delighted  to  be 
ftUrved  frum  their  heavy  burthens  for  the  rest  of  the  day. 

Tbe  dinner  is  a  sort  of  tahie  d'hdie.  Every  fozendeiro  is  obliged 
»•  keep  open  house ;  and  any  oiie  p:u(sing  by,  whether  rich  or  poor, 
aaUe  or  iourgfoii,  puts  up  at  their  house  as  if  it  were  an  inn ;  dining, 
ile^ng,  and  breukfasling  at  their  expense.  At  some  tables  even  free 
Umws  ue  received  ;  and  people  without  coats,  shoes,  or  stockings,  fre> 
fMBtly  preeent  themscdves  at  the  fazenda,  and  dine  with  us-  It  put 
nw  io  mind  of  what  \\>Uuire  said  to  a  poor  cure,  whu  hnil  thus  taken 
OB  bis  abode  at  the  InniHe  uf  the  philosopher.  Being  a^ked  in  what  be 
Mend  from  Unn  Quixote,  the  cure  wns  puiizled.  "  Wliy,  the  Don, 
fM  knim,"  replied  Voltaire,  "  mistook  ell  the  ians  for  castlea,  but  you 
•tea  la  teke  all  the  castle*  for  inns." 


-:  't*      ■*'--*    MOL'NTAINS, 

__^^         .T^.-^     -M""  --    I  ■    I  ri    liowerer,  from  the  wuit 

>___      .      ^      Aj»n_-.-^^  ¥-M  ps;  up  at  each  other** 

^^       .,^_  .     >  --«»j*..     -M»e  =  -"sn.  isch  as  a  sack  of  dour, 

~     „T    .    un.-;*:.   57ij£i*n,  and  French;  and 

. .  -.^      -'i    -=a.at>  irt  driog  at  the  estate,  they 

^,  A   ^.=::vn.   iiTuting  the  black  cook  into 

^  ^    „     ».r-.  ..su  "vajidMaj:.     After  Mup,  the 

_^_      T*M<.    •--  -«um:.  :;»  1  Uiual  dish.  Ham,  lizards, 

^^       ,  „     .^    ic!>kL3CKk  lad  a  piece  de  resigtance  d 

~tt..     ..,iyu,  -r  Tvrk.  — ' cumpose  the  mutley  bill 

^        _,      ,.     "-M*^    ssc^uc.  the  moment  dinner  is  over, 

^     ^.  -    -?«  T".'iii  lie  tdble. 

^  ._         .  .      >      ~^t>«:lr  it  the  fuenda.    All  the  blacks 

■5,-^.     «,»>  .\   :^<f  e»tj[ie,  to  the  number  of  one 

.  J     .V    .-iii.^rtfr..   who  on   this  day  take  all 

I..   tiMier.     He  swings  them,  and  gives  them 

.■-M«.>o     u»  Lxe  the  tiimous  saturnalia  of  the 

.  -     ..  .  ..•■u  -I  iuwtir  c:'  the  modern  helots*  that  their 

■««*,  -m'z^^t  the  MturuiilLi  was  only  once  a 

,      ,       .^    "v.iau  wvr=./W:JO.  Tegetables,  and  a  little 

^      .  .^-^.t     '.t  "-vr^  s::-jill  quantities.     Their  cups  and 

.^  -I-    .    ^>.  o^u^-  a=d  by  no  means  a  bad  sulwtitute 

,.  .    ^        >.;v»;  '.>*  pu\Vn.  which  presented  an  almost 

.^  .      ".N.   .vrfw^trtv.  the  cocoa,  and  the  banana, 

«^    -M-v.   .m:  -s  »:*.'.dll  numbers  compared  with  the 

.,.v.v.kv»>  i-v)i»-  turr.ips,  carn>ts,  and  potatoes.    But 

„  ^    ,^  ■.    .!c  iv:-*tiriiice  of  the  iiead-gardener,  Mon- 

-V.  * .  *  V  '.'ii  been  fifteen  years  on  the  Serra  or 

t,<m  V   *.-'V  •^eii^  wonders  in  producing  exotic  vege- 

_^v  v«>w    '^^^i  ifN.'v^-rxves :  a  feat  almost  unequalled  in 

>.  .     >>     «k   ««  'v<<  vl^utitul,  but  greatly  inferior  to  those 

■  ^       ^  v^  ;!te  estate  is  not  congenial  to  the  growth 

"^  V.     .«..«•»«   ivc  wore  than  one  thousand  coffee-trees  to 

.^    >.v.*   .\viit.     When  in  flower,  the  coffee-tree  is 

^   „  ^  .    ».»  '^^  when  the  berry  supplies  the  phice  of 

.:«.«•    r^e  nearly  approaching  to  vermilion,  and 

V  .  .».vf*-burnt  carmine. 

.^.  X***.  ■"  ci'Uiparison  with  Rio  de  Janeiro,  is  so 

^  ^.v    o«:<->H>-»i  the  name  of  the  Alontpelier  of  Brazil. 

\        V    *-  «»•  •*"*'*^  several  pretty  cottages  built  d  la  SuUse, 

.,     X   v»^a*>  f:unilie$  who  were  obliged  to  leave  Rio 

^^_^    X—   •>**<  pri'Vftils  in  the  months  of  January  and 

*      ^      x*^    V  ^*«*i*ll*  a  difference  often  degrees  in  favour  of 

■x    .XnM^wieier  is  rarely  higher  that  80"  in  the 

"\.   A    .V  U^*^*  i*  a  rtMnmou  tem|)erature.    The  morn- 

r*  ..*    '>*^»«  Jcicwusly  rtK»l,  and  give  strength  to  fiwe 

*      ^     •_ .  '-..iK'  ihe  j;law  is  wimetimes  as  low  as  SS*. 

^^_„  .^  o«i  iv»  MV  the  plantations,  which  are  very 

■^*    ,  \;**.»v    a  A^»*»<  *  U'ligue  fnmi  the  fazenda.     These 

^    ^  ■  ^.'^.,  ^x«u  .ind  i»taliH*».  and  are  on  the  height  of  a 

\  i.v5  *"•  **•*  V^*  ***  *"'n!'W  ****** '  ■"'^  >■*»"  ^^^  °*»y  *ce 


IN    BRAZIL. 


«T 


libs  vtcmpB  of  the  trees  peepiD^  over  the  Indian  corn.  The  whole  estate 
COOMts  of  sixty-two  square  miles.  A  dozen  to  tiventy  dwB  accom- 
paaied  or  on  our  ride,  ani)  killttd  Bcveral  lizards  and  armeidilTuB,  which 
fiO  the  Brazilian  game-bag.  On  returning  to  the  court-j'ard  of  the 
bMMe  I  found  it  tenanted  by  u  solitary  ostrich  of  the  country, — a  beau- 
liAU  but  mtist  melancholy  bird. 

About  thirty  of  the  blacks  are  employed  in  the  domestic  arrange* 
menu,  the  stables,  and  tbe  garden  of  tlie  fuzcnda.     The  greater  num- 
ber work  io  the  plantations,  and  each  slave  is  tlie  posscs&or  uf  u  small 
piece  of  ground,  on  wliich  he  is  jierniitted  to  ivork  ut  leisure  hours  and 
on  Sundayc.     Thu  ground  hring.s  hini  a  yearly  revenue  of  nearly  one 
pound.    They  are  all  tolerably  dressed,  with  the  exception  of  shoes  and 
ttfffking*,  which  no  black  ever  wears ;  and  even  uiiinug  the  whites  up 
^  country  you  rarely  sec  the  latter.    The  naked  foot,  or  sabols,  are 
qaite  d  ta  tnode  iu  the  interior.     A  black's  rations  are  very  large  ;  it 
a  Uoe  h«  has  but  little  animal  food  ;  but,  where  is  the  European  pea- 
maA  Ibat  has?     I  have  seen  the  almost  monastic  fare  of  the  peasantry 
«f  acveral  countrieK,  and  all  full  short  of  the  plentiful  ond  substantial 
diet  of  the  blacks  in  Brazil.     They  are  seldom  overworked,  and  are 
remarkably  strong  and  heaJthv,  living  to  an  advanced  uge.     lu  India, 
tfce  man  of  colour  who  brusiies  your  coat  will  refuse  to  clean  your 
pipe,  and  your  servants  ore  multiplied  in  proportion;    but  then  they 
ire  lightly  clad,  and  a  little  rice  is  enough   for  their  maintenance. 
In    Braail,   however,   instead   of  a   few   grains  of  rice,  your    Hlares 
must   be  well-dressed,  and  fed  abundantly.     If  a  master  wishes  his 
itare  to  work  on  the  Sunday,  he  jmys  him  for  his  labour,  and  never 
ItH  than  one  shilling  a  day.     The  real  drawback  to  their  happiness 
warn  frwu  their  subjection  to  tbe  frequent  brutal  exhibition  of  paKbiim 
«  tbe  part   of  their  musters.     The  sererest  corporal  punishment  is 
immediately  indicted  on  the  slightest  suspicion,  and  without  a  hearing. 
The  black  is  lied  to  a  tree,  and  condemned  to  receive  four  hundred 
m  five  hundred  lashes,  sometimes  inllicted  by  tbe  band  of  tlie  master 
kimaelf ;  and  even  women  slaves  undergo  the  same  disgusting  punish- 
aoii  ! 

The  blocks  hare  In  general  good  can  for  music,  every  one  playing 
■ne  riula  of  bis  own  constructiuu.  Every  Saturday  night  there  is  a 
WU.  at  which  they  dance  till  daybreak  to  the  sound  of  a  small  drum, 
which  1  imagine  must  be  the  same  as  the  West  Indian  tom-tom.  The 
■mnd.  is  most  discordant ;  and  the  scene  n  very  lively  representation 
rf  the  dance  of  the  demons-  In  the  middle  of  a  targe  hut  where 
Ihme  rerela  are  held  is  a  huge  wood  6re,  and  round  tliis  the  blacks 
Aaoce  merrily,  making  the  most  licnd-like  noise  imaginable.  The 
smoke  U  so  dense  that  you  can  only  catch  o  glimpse  of  these  strange 
faoea  at  tntcrrals ;  but  every  now  and  then  you  see  the  white  teeth  and 
ey«>  grinning  horribly,  and  then  again  all  is  veiled  in  smoke.  At 
M^t  they  all  come  to  the  fuzcnda  to  ask  our  blessing,  and,  after  tbe 
MBal  answer  of  "  tempre"  go  away.  When  any  black  wants  to  marry, 
W  asks  permission  of  "  The  Henhor,"  who  marries  them,  and  also 
pan*  divorcca,  beaidea  being  sometimes  phyiticiun,  surgeon,  &c.  One 
vaoHUi  on  the  eatate^  who  bad  not  yet  attained  her  fourteenth  year, 
hftd  already  changed  her  husband  five  times! 

TInw  who  believe  that  the  African  race  are  little  more  than  a 
taperior  aort  of  animal,  scarcely  endowed  with  reason,  mast  l>e  very 
iU-iafinrmcd.     The  majority  of  the  blacks  ore  citceedingly  intelligent ; 


SB  VISIT  TO   THE    OHOAN    MOUNTAINS, 

indeed,  the  fact  of  their  acquiring  a  language  bo  different  to  tliei 
in  a  very  short  lime,  is  a  sufficient  proof  of  this.  Thf y  are  very  cun- 
ning, and  excel  in  all  aorta  of  dupiUcity, —  the  arm  of  the  weaker 
Uguinst  the  Ktronger  power.  A  short  time  previously,  1  accompanied 
an  Kngli&hmnn,  who  possessed  an  estate  at  some  distance  from  the 
fiiZA-ndu,  to  which  he  only  paid  periodical  visits,  beinj;  chiefly  occupied 
in  the  city.  On  these  occasions  he  generally  found  his  resT)ectable 
household  napping, — taking  care  to  arrive  unexjiectedly.  When  we 
reached  liin  abode,  the  owner  clapped  his  hands,  and  a  hiave  appeared, 
— a  cunning-louking  feituw,  und  as  fat  as  a  pig.  He  acted  in  the 
double  capacity  of  house-stewiird  and  cook,  —  a  clever  fetluw,  but  an 
arrant  rogue,  as  appeared  in  the  sequel.  In  about  an  hour  after  our 
arrival  he  produced  a  cH])itaI  dinner ;  and  inottelle  Htid  claret  soon  made 
up  for  the  fatigue  of  our  morning's  route,  over  a  country  the  wildest  of 
the  wild.  At  breakfast  next  morning,  my  friend  felt  a  desire  for  some 
champagne,  and  desired  me  to  descend  with  him  to  the  cellar,  as  he 
hud  some  little  misgivings  that  his  iron  locks  and  bolts  had  been  tam- 
pered with.  At  fir^t  it  seemed  all  riffht ;  but,  on  lifting  a  bottle  of 
champagne,  it  was  found  wanting;  and  to  his  great  horror,  he  disco- 
vered that  no  less  than  thirteen  dozen  of  wine,  Lcsidcs  liqueurs  and 
BpiritSj  Lad  evaporated,  the  bottles  being  carefully  sealed  up  agaio. 
All  the  slaves  were  examined,  and  the  crime  was  traced  to  the  house- 
steward,  who  was  condemned  to  be  flowed.  The  culprit  was  accord- 
ingly stripped,  and  tied  up  in  the  garden,  several  cords  being  attached 
to  his  body,  arms,  and  feet.  Before  the  signal  was  given,  he  was  a&ked 
if  he  bad  sold  the  wine,  or  reserved  it  for  home  consumption.  "  I 
drank  it  every  drop,"  be  answered-  A  muleteer  acted  as  executioner 
on  the  occasion  ;  and  when  about  six  lashes  had  been  administered, 
the  culprit  begged  as  a  particular  favour  tliat  the  curds  might  l>e  re- 
moved, as  be  was  suffering  great  pain  from  the  pressure.  On  their 
removal,  olf  he  darted  sanx  culolle  as  fast  as  his  legs  could  carry  him, 
and  off  also  went  all  the  other  blacks  "  full  chisel,"  as  the  Americans 
say,  leaving  us  alone,  not  sans  ct/follcs,  but  tans  din^r,  —  a  far  more 
indispensable  thing  in  these  sunnv  climates.  Our  cook  was  gone,  so 
was  our  champagne  and  cura^oa.  The  affair  began  to  look  most  unpro- 
misingj  wlien  several  of  the  hhicks  returned  from  the  pursuit.  ^ 

Dinner  did  ut  \i\^t  make  iis  appearance  ;  but  the  slewant  was  mtssin^^H 
till  the  following  morning,  when  he  returned  fortified  with  a  "  padrin- 
ho."  When  a  slave  is  convicted  of  an  offence,  he  frequently  makes  hit 
escape,  and  takes  refuge  at  the  bouse  of  some  nei^hbt>nr,  who,  in  con- 
formity with  the  code  of  hospitality,  gives  the  offender  a  letter  to  his 
master  requesting  his  forgiveness.  If  it  be  a  first  offence,  a  full  par- 
don is  generally  granted  ;  but  in  this  cose  the  letter  or  "  padrlnno  " 
was  of  no  avail,  and  a  hundred  lashes  were  inflicted,  with  the  prospect 
of  two  hundred  more  in  a  week's  time.  h 

The  mores  in  this  country  are  seldom  broken  in.     The  finest  ar^H 
from  Alecklenburgh  and  the  Cape,  and  all  are  quite  wild.     They  are 
turned  into  the  pasture;',  and  when  their  assistance  is  required  they  are 
caught  with  the  lasso,  and  conveyed  to  the  fazenda.  ^H 

The  Buenos  Ayres  stirrups  are  much  used  on  this  estate.     They  ar^H 
made  of  br&s-s,  and  are  so  small,  that  there  is  only  room  for  the  tip  of 
the  foot.     The  tassadors  seldom  wear  boots*  hut  thrust  the  big  toe  of 
each  foot  thrungli  the  narrow  aperture.     If  you  4C>ve  a  gaucho  a  pair 
of  booU*  the  brat  thing  he  does  is  to  cut  off  tlte  tips.    In  Buema 


IN    BRAZIL. 


S9 


Arm.  they  frequently  kill  the  mtiren  for  tlie  sake  of  the  f)e«b  ;  and 
wbenifver  ftirei^ers  have  attempted  to  ride  the  marcs,  in  commun  with 
theauti>ui  of  every  other  country^  they  have  invariably  been  ridiculed 
for  the  barbarism.  Horses  in  this  country  are  aeldom  broken  in  before 
fire  yean  old.  In  raioy  weather  they  use  a  curious  stirrup,  each  foot 
Wiaif  inclosed  in  u  large  wooden  box,  which  has  a  very  uncouth  ap- 
peanuicr,  but  answers  the  purpose  in  a  primitive  manner. 

There  had  been  great  rejoicing  lately  at  the  death  of  a  celebrated 
bsodit,  who  bus  Itin^  infeiited  the  estate.  The  name  of  this  Fra-Dia- 
rolo  irma  Monsieur  Charles,  a  native  of  Switzerland*  who  had  many 
jvaT%  lired  at  Trieschal,  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain.  He  made  a  good 
i<»l  of  money  by  stealinj];  mules  and  slaves,  and  had  frpquentiy  been 
uder  sentence  of  death  for  murders  committed  on  tlie  Serra  ;  but,  as 
MBDey  in  this  country  will  easily  buy  over  the  Judges,  Senhor  Carlos 
wu  no  aouner  uuder  arrest  than  he  was  at  liberty  nfrnin.  A  few  days 
htforr,  be  stole  some  blacks  l>elonpng  to  a  neighbuuring  fazendeiro, 
and  bid  them  in  his  boune  at  Trieschul.  He  was  tracked,  however,  by 
ibe  injured  party,  who  called  loudly  for  admittance,  to  which  Carlos 
tBTBed  ft  deaf  ear,  whereu|>on  they  tired  upon  bis  bouse.  Here  he  se- 
creted hitnaelf  for  two  days  ;  but  on  the  third  day  he  mounted  bis 
tffftd,  uid  was  about  to  ascend  the  mountain,  tvhen  he  was  called  upon 
t0daust,  and,  on  his  refusal,  the  plaintiff  took  the  law  into  hiii  own 
haa^  fired,  and  wounded  the  robber,  and  on  coming  up,  quickly 
Aespaicbed  him.  The  oraii  openly  boiiated  of  the  dei-d  ',  and  the  au* 
tlnribes  suffered  the  matter  to  pass  by  unnoticed,  being  glad  enough 
that  CArloa  had  finished  his  marauding  career.  Ho  was  a  tall  baiid- 
•oaia  £eIlow;  and  the  fazendeiros  all  tiiaJe  a  point  of  saluting  him 
BMat  oourteously.  not  knowing  on  whom  he  might  pounce  next  to  levy 
hii  "  black  mail,"  Another  bandit  of  renown  bad  been  slain  in  the 
latiie  manner  six  months  previously*  He  was  a  Portuguese,  and  had 
stolen  and  murdered  blacks  in  a  wholesale  manner. 

Cbriatuta^  £ve  is  an  event  of  much  rejoicing  here,  as  in  Europe. 
AU  tbtt  black*  camo  to  the  fazenda,  and  executed  the  movemeutti  of 
U«  Creide  dance  to  the  sound  of  violas,  played  by  their  most  skilful 
■uuidttu,  who  also  mingled  in  the  figure  from  time  to  time.  Tbis 
Ahmk  i»  by  no  means  so  barbarous  as  might  be  supposed.  Some  of 
the  figures  are  even  graceful,  and  form  a  striking  coutrust  to  their 
meal  hum-drum  dance  to  the  sound  of  the  tom-tom.  They  continued 
their  performance  the  whole  night ;  and  early  on  the  following  morn- 
fau  a  diatributiuu  of  clothes  to<ik  place,  consisting  chiefly  of  articles 
■  Muicheater  manufacture,  such  as  handkerchiefs,  turbdns.  cloaks, 
tTMUcra*  and  dresses.  .jVII  these  find  their  way  into  the  interior  of 
Bnxtly  as  they  do,  indeed,  into  oil  parts  of  the  globe.  1  remember  an 
Butitfaman  bringing  home  a  South  American  poncho,  as  u  curiuqity  of 
lb*  lami,  and  making  a  present  of  it,  to  a  friend  who  rejoiced  in 
ndi  lureign  specimens  as  Indian  tomahawks,  hookahs,  poisoned  ar- 
mn.  and  uely  little  Japanese  idols  with  wide  mouths.  Unfurtu- 
Mdy.  the  nrvt  thing  that  struck  the  friend's  eye  was  the  name  of 
IIh  Mfticular  manufiicturer  at  ^lanchester,  who  had  made  the  iden- 
tical poncJio,  which  had  thus  retiirned  to  its  native  country  ! 

Tk*  children  danced  the  Creole  dance  on  the  Christmas  morning, 
and  all  sremed  highly  delighted  with  their  Ter^isichnrean  labours, 
(ran  tbo  white-beaded  huntsmen  of  eighty  to  the  yearling  children. 
A>  «c  wm  olain.  and  distributed  amongst  the  slaves,  whilst  we,  tb« 


30 


VISIT   TO   THE    ORGAN    MOUNTAINS, 


fnirer  part  of  the  popniation,  partook  of  a  CbriHtmaa  dinner,  conaUting 
of  turkey,  beef,  plum-pudding,  iind  clinmpagne>  at  one  of  the  cottagea 
on  the  vfttate,  tenanted  byan  Encli^h  fumily.  We  thim  played  vingt- 
el'Un  till  one  in  the  morning.  The  cottiigc  was  not  far  from  the  fu- 
zenda,  and,  returninf^  on  foot,  each  was  fortiiied  with  a  lunteiHj  and 
nivpped  in  u  poncho. 

Throughout  the  interior  of  Brazil  I  found  few  houses  where  the 
dauehters  nf  the  fazeodeiros,  or  indeed  any  of  the  female  part  of  the 
family^  made  their  appearance.  I  spent  a  day  with  one  of  the  most 
hospitable  men  in  the  neighbourhood >  and  father  of  a  laree  family,  but 
none  of  the  young  ladies  were  visible.  Every  now  and  then  I  saw 
two  laughing  fuces  peeping  through  a  hole  in  the  door  ;  but  the  mo- 
ment I  glanced  at  the  aperture  the  faces  vanished.  This  custom  is 
generalj  and  leads  to  a  marriage  system  ti  h  Chinoue.  MarriagM 
are  arranged  in  the  following  manner.  The  patient  bent  upon  mar- 
riage hears  that  a  certain  father  has  daughters  to  dispose  of;  where- 
upon he  calls  on  the  papa,  tells  him  of  his  inclination  to  become  bis  son- 
in-law,  and  that  he  possesse-s  so  many  slaves  and  coffee-trees.  If  the 
papa  thinks  they  have  enough  "  cotfee  and  bbcks  "  to  live  upon  com- 
fortably, he  accepts  the  proposal,  and  introduces  the  aspirant  to  hia 
future  wife,  who  perhaps  sees  her  "future"  for  the  first  time.  I  am 
speaking  now  of  the  society  in  the  interior,  principally  amongst  the 
smaller  facendoirns,  or  farmers;  for  in  Rio  you  find  little  ditference 
from  any  other  civilized  country.  People  in  the  interior  are  nearly 
uneducated  ;  reading  and  writing,  especially  the  latter,  are  looked  upon 
OS  Herculean  acquirements ;  and  amongst  the  women  the  greatest  ig- 
norance invariiihly  prevail.^-  ^| 

A  few  days  ago,  a  large  cavalcade  appeared  at  tliegate  of  the  fnzenda^^H 
The  party  c^in»i$ted  of  an  old  Ca^udur,  or  in  plain  English  a  Nimrod, 
the  mighty  hunter  of  these  wo«>d.-«  and  forests,  accompanied  by  his  wife 
and  two  daughters,  besides  children  innumerable.  Now,  a  dame  blanche 
at  the  Puzenda  de  St.  Anna  is  indeed  a  rare  occurrence, — a  ptarmigan 
amongst  the  black  game, — so  we  all  hastened  to  the  yard  to  receive  our 
new  guests  ;  and  a  most  extraordinary  looking  group  they  were.  The 
old  gentleman  wore  a  long  white  beard,  and  looked  as  if  he  had  been 
tiorn  and  bred  In  the  woods,  and  was  in  point  of  ndldnesa  equal  to 
the  beasts  of  chase.  But  the  costumes  of  the  daughters  were  unique. 
In  spite  of  the  rainy  season,  they  wore  very  thin  white  dresses,  embroi- 
dered all  over^  and  hats  of  the  masculine  gender,  but  of  dark  green, 
with  gold  bands,  and  artificial  flowers.  The  shoes  were  of  u  pale  rose- 
colour,  with  extremely  thick  soles,  and  covering  the  irutep.  At  dinner 
I  tried  to  "  discourse"  the  yoimg  ladies.  They  were  going  to  Rio 
for  the  first  time,  to  be  present  at  n  christening  ;  but  beyond  this  piece 
of  information  they  evinced  great  taciturnity,  and  contented  them- 
selves with  sprinkling  their  meat  with  Hour,  using  both  hands  for  the 
operation.  The  hunter  eat  enormously*  To  be  as  hungry  us  a  hunter 
is  an  expression  often  heard ;  but  on  this  occasion  our  guest  out-He- 
roded  Hemd,  or  rather  out-Nimroded  Nimrud.  AVhen  tlte  cheese  was 
brought  on  the  table,  several  huge  pieces  wore  cut  olf,  and  deposited  in 
a  plute,  according  to  custom.  The  plate  was  handed  to  the  Cu^adur, 
who,  notunder>>laiiding  this  homceujHithic  way  of  taking  cheese,  quietly 
accepted  the  whole  of  the  contents,  and  devoured  it  with  perfect  easCi 
to  our  no  small  astonishment.  The  whole  family  ya^vned  awfully  after 
dinner,— I  scarcely  thought  the  papa  had  room  for  a  yawn ;  and  the 


IN    BRAZIL. 


81 


ntt  rooming  aft^r  breakfiut  they  donned  tbeir  haH,  monnted  their 
tbttdt,  ittd  vre  wished  theni  a  very  good  jouniey-  A  mulatto,  who  dined 
«ltk  BS  the  next  doy,  met  the  party  at  the  bottom  i>f  the  muuntain, 
aaatplMely  loaked,  and  I  thought  of  the  hat«  and  the  rose-coloured 
Aim. 

Ahant  four  leagues  from  the  fazenda  resided  one  of  the  red  men. 
the  aborigines,  and  rijzhcful  owners  of  the  Miil,  from  which  they  hare 
tan  driren  more  to  the  interior,  the  few  that  remain  being  more  aup- 
preswd  than  incorporated  with  their  ancient  invaders.  He  was 
I  aqnattrr,  —  that  is  to  say^  he  estubliUied  himself  upon  the  estate 
iluat  ten  years  ago,  cut  do\m  some  virgin  wood,  and  built  liis  house 
upon  the  stumps,  in  spite  of  all  the  elfarts  made  to  expel  the  in- 
trad«r.  He  threatened  to  shoot  any  one  who  molL*sted  bim,  and. 
adcr  tikow  eircumiitance<(,  nobody  did  molest  him.  Having  roofed  in 
Ui  >— ■»>  he  made  himself  a  little  plantation,  and  there  he  was  csta- 
Uillwl  fbr  life,  living  entirely  by  the  fruit  of  his  spade  and  lii»  gun. 
I  Iward  ao  much  of  this  Indian,  and  of  his  primitive  way  of  living,  that 
I  KMlred  to  Rfttisfy  my  curiosity,  coule  qui  route  ;  but  no  companion 
tmXd  1  find.  So  I  saddled  a  mule,  poncho'd  myself,  and  bent  my 
ilBB.  or  ntlier  those  of  the  mule,  to  ttie  habitation  of  my  red  friend, 
Inlnig  rery  much  aa  if  I  was  goin^  to  pay  a  morning  visit  to  an  ogre 
•r  tli«  gimat  Cormoran.  I  scrambled  through  the  forest,  leading  my 
Bttfe  with  one  liand,  and  cutting  down  branches  tvith  the  other,  armed 
whb  ft  bog^  knife  for  that  purpose.  Roads  ore  frequently  made 
to  this  manner,  which  answer  the  tem[)orarr  purpose  of  pushing  on 
TOT  well,  although  it  would  hardly  servo  an  a  sample  fur  paving  Ox- 
C>ra  Strvet.  At  last  I  found  myself  near  a  small  plantation  of  Indian 
corn  and  potatoes,  varied  with  beans,  and  twelve  little  coffee-trees,  on 
tfaatapof  a  hilJ,  like  the  tuft  of  hair  on  Thersites' head.  A  single 
hetm  wax  grazing  in  the  diKtauce,  wliichf  with  a  few  cackling  fowla, 
flimpriacd  the  whole  of  the  farm-stock. 

X  w«»  now  at  the  door  of  the  cottage,  and  having  no  letter  of  intro- 
AdcIMII,  WftB  rather  at  a  io!»  fur  an  excuse  ;  but  I  knocked  at  the  door 
villi  tor  knife,  and  two  girls  came  out.  They  wore  nothing  but  a  very 
•h«rt  bine  petticoat,  and  their  hair  was  streaming  down  their  backa. 
Hut  were  aa  dark  as  mulattos,  hut  with  a  slight  tinge  of  colour,  large 
UacK  efes,  and  teeth  aa  white  as  snow,  arch  and  gipsy-like  in  the 
ntrciae,  but  without  very  pleasing  faces.  I  told  them  I  had  lost  my 
way,  tad  begged  them  to  |>oiiit  me  out  the  shortest  road  to  the  fa- 
Mda.  The  youngest  answered  me  directly  in  Portuguese,  making  a 
tfcwMmf  grstures,  and  speaking  with  much  volubility.  At  this  mo- 
■ttt  ibe  thunder  nttled  amongst  the  mountuina,  and  the  rain  de- 
Mnidcd  in  torrents,  and  the  young  ladies  insisted  upon  my  taking 
AtJUY.  They  told  me  that  their  father  tvas  in  the  woods  hunting; 
\m  they  tliought  he  would  soon  come  back  to  eat.  I  thought  of  the 
9p9  a^n.  The  youngest  told  me  that  her  mother  died  some  time 
a^  md  m'as  buried  in  the  wood,  t  asked  her  if  she  had  ever  twen 
MM  of  tbt  wood.  "Never,"  was  the  answer.  It  will  be  allowed  that 
ttmatOMt  n  very  long  conversation  witli  a  couple  of  damsels  who  had 
wrer  quitted  their  native  shrubbery,  waa  somcwliat  ditficulL  Pre- 
MOthr  I  saw  a  red  man  running  down  the  mountain  with  the  agility 
•fa  tiger<c&t,  and  in  another  infant  he  sprang  into  the  cottage.  Hia 
■ItXB  W1K  quite  red,  ivith  black  ghtisy  hair,  and  a  long  beard  ;  his  gun 
via  ihtag  beKind  him,  and  he  was  dressed  in  a  monkey-skin  jacket. 


sat 


BALMD. 


with  a  cap  and  continuations  of  the  same  materiaU  or  rather  abbreiri*'* 
ations,  for  they  onlv  reached  to  the  knee-  His  nose  was  curled,  and 
Tery  prominent,  ana  his  large  black  eyes  rather  deep  in  their  sockets ; 
his  arms,  breast,  and  feet  were  bare>  the  feet  small,  and  delicately 
fomied.  I  explained  to  him  that  I  was  the  nephew  of  the  Sunhor, 
and  had  lo«t  my  way;  upon  which  he  brought  mc  a  sack  of  Indian 
corn  to  ait  upon,  apulogiHed  that  he  hud  no  wine  or  cftchu9:i  (tlie 
common  spirit  of  the  country),  but  that  his  feisao  would  soon  be 
ready.  He  then  talked  about  his  plantations,  and  the  success  of  his 
day's  cbttse.  He  complained  that  he  had  only  killed  an  armadillo 
antl  a  capivara;  but  hnd  seen  a  deer,  and  mIsKed  her.  He  then 
said,  "  If  you  like  to  come  and  hunt  porcos  de  mato  (wild  pign),  and 
will  bring  powder  and  shot,  I  will  lend  you  a  gun."  1  answered,  that 
nothing  would  give  me  greater  pleasure,  and  asked  him  what  country- 
woman  his  wife  was.  He  replied,  that  she  was  a  mulatto, — which  ac- 
counted for  the  daughter's  nondescript  complexion.  The  feizao  now 
made  its  appearance  in  the  skin  of  a  large  gourd,  and  we  got  round 
and  helped  ourselves  with  our  fingers*  The  second  course  consisted  of 
a  large  pail  of  cedar  wood,  with  a  huge  peeled  pumpkin  inside.  The 
eldest  daughter  took  a  quantity  of  Indian  com  and  threw  it  into  the 
pail  with  both  hands,  and  in  went  our  fingerH  as  before.  At  the  con- 
clusion of  the  repast  they  brought  me  some  water  and  a  banana  leaf, 
which  made  a  verr  good  towel.  One  of  the  glrln  took  a  great  fanc}'  tv^H 
my  white  cotton  gloves,  and  put  them  on  several  times.  I  \vas  glad  to^^ 
repay  their  hospitality  at  the  price  of  a  pair  of  Berlin  gloves,  sn  I  pro-  ' 
sented  her  with  them,  to  her  great  delight.  I  then  shook  hands  with 
the  red  man,  and,  after  another  invitation  to  come  and  hunt  wild 
pigs,  I  took  my  departure. 

If  liberty,  independence,  and  d  qnoi  n'rrf,  can  render  a  man  happj^j 
my  red  friend  ought  to  be  perfectly  so. 


BALLAD. 

BV    AI.EXANDKR    M'DOUQALL,    ESQ.   OF    NOVA    SCOTIA. 

"  On  come  to  me.  my  only  love  I — the  sun  h^s  sunk  to  rest, 

His  latest  ray  has  faded  from  the  tofty  mountain's  cre^i ; 

And,  as  if  mourninE  for  his  fliglii,  soft  as  the  lover's  stgfi. 

The  night-breeze,  while  ii  fans  my  cheek,  goes  faintly  murn'ring  by. 

"  Oh  come  to  me,  my  only  love  !— the  moon  is  shinir^  bright, — 
The  slant  ilivi  form  lier  coronet  ore  mellow'd  by  her  hght. 
And  soft  and  swe^t  her  glaiitvi  fall  upon  the  open  bay. 
Where  bright  tht*  stiver  waters  dance,  and  sparkle  fiir  away. 

"  Oh  come  to  me  I  in  safety  come  I — the  tower  is  dark  and  tooe,— 
No  Iioslile  sound  shall  thfre  W  heard,  no  voices  save  our  own. 
The  stream  that  glides  beoeaih  the  bank  u  flowing  fut  and  free, — 
The  bark  that  floats  upon  its  Ude  is  wailing,  love,  for  thee. 

"  Long  have  I  had  thy  ftthrr's  bale,  and  long  endured  his  scorn, 
And  still  in  silenc*-,  for  ihy  sake,  I  'd  bear  as  I  have  bome  ; 
But  now.  should  fortune  smde,  I  "11  change,  ere  yonder  moon  deelioe. 
The  angry  Ha&bes  of  his  eye  for  beams  of  love  from  thine." 

The  maiden  came — the  morning  sun  losc  joyously  and  fair — 
TTiey  sought  her  in  the  lonely  lower — the  maiden  was  not  there; 
Dul  one  small  foot-pnnt  on  the  sand,  one  line  npon  (he  stone, 
In  haste  engraved,  sufficed  to  tell  her  sire  thai  we  had  flown. 


HAPKAWAY  SKETCHES. 

BY   JOHN   HILL5. 


k 


THE  BATTU. 

Tbk  lun  had  just  risen,  and  his  rays  were  streanimg^  into  my  bed- 

om,  a«  (  lesped  from  repose  fresh  as  a  three^year  old.  It  was  in- 
deed «a  beautiful  a  morning  as  ever  cheered  tlie  heart  of  a  mortal  ; 
tht  refreshiDg  mist  KttU  hung^  upon  the  glittering  erase,  in  graceful 
flbltla,  like  the  bridal  veil  tihndin^,  but  not  concealing,  tfie  covered 
Cfaarm*.  Hastily  I  completed  my  tt^iict,  and  descending  the  stairs,  I 
hmnA  my  hoft  cleaning  his  gun  in  the  hall,  with  his  kee|>er  standing 
idly  by,  surrounded  with  pails  of  hot  water  and  cold,  heaps  of  tow, 
i^p,  mud  clothe  of  many  sizes  and  descriptions. 

"Good  morning,  good  morning  !  What  t  you  could  get  up  before 
la  for  thi«  sport,  eli  ? "  said  he.  "  I  expect  you  '11  hold  him  «tr»ight 
la-4lay." 

Ei^re««iii|;  a  hope  that  I  should,  I  asked  why  he  was  preparing 
Uffpin,  llkinking  it  no  peculiarly  plea-iurable  occupation. 

"In  my  young  days,  Squire,"  he  replied,  "  men  used  to  be  tho- 
iQMjh  going  fellows,  liiat  knew  how  a  gun  should  be  kept,  made, 
MM  held.  They  knew  how  to  breed  a  dog,  break,  and  hunt  him  ; 
bat  BOW,  hang  me,  if  they  do  either.  Everything  'a  done  for  them  ; 
snd,  aoniechlng  like  the  King  who  was  surprised  how  the  ajiples  got 
mu)  the  dumplings,  wonder  now  the  devil  they  miss,  when  tlicy  fire 
vith  both  eyes  shut.  Look  at  this  gun  :  I  've  shot  with  it  for  thirty- 
two  jemn.  No  one  han  ever  cleaned  it  except  myself,  and  never 
■Ml :  for  when  I  've  finished  it,  I  'ni  satisfied  that  it  in  in  good  con- 
Aion.     I  XMOW  that  it  is  ;  but  how  should  I,  if  1  didn't  do  it  my- 

My  boct  vu  of  the  old  school,  —  not  of  chat  obsolete  one  when 
(tccd^mm  could  not  approach  a  trout-stream  without  velvet  caps,  or 
"  tally-ho"  a  fox  unless  decked  in  court-wigs,  perfumed  and  pow- 
dered; but  he  eschewed  the  dandyism  of  sporting  practised  univer- 
MtBy  by  the  Nimrod*  of  the  present  day.  To  see  a  particidarly  well- 
cat  tight-waiftted  shooting-jacket,  a  swaggering  ta^sclled  cap.  light 
boati,  a  toDspicuous  cravat,  ^cratcldesa  6tock,  with  the  usual  trifling 
setntapealments  of  the  Setiteraber  outfit,  were  to  hira  objects  of  su- 
preme caatempt.  He  looked  upon  the  owner  as  one  disgracing  the 
mmAy  unaMment;  and  he  that  once  "turned  out"  thus  vainly 
tqvjpped  with  old  John  Goodwin,  would  most  assuredly  avoid  a 
seeaod  experiment. 

On  tlie  fourth  of  October  my  host  had  invited  his  select  friends 
for  a  choice  day's  pheasant  shooting.  His  preserves  were  well  filled 
with  gene ;  and  the  annual  treat  of  "  a  baitu  "  was  anticipated  with 
gnA  plcuuxe  by  numbers  of  sportt-men. 

••  Map,  are  the  spaniels  in  trim  ? "  inquired  my  host  of  one  admir- 
Wg  keeper,  who  stood  grinning  with  a  dog-whip  in  one  brawny 
iMnd.  and  •otne  couples  in  the  other. 

**  I  should  uy  they  gist  was,  sir,"  replied  Alap,  with  a  knowing 
■ed  of  aatulkctiun. 

"  Are  those  boys  got  to  beat  for  us  ?  " 

vOb.  r>li>  >* 


34 


HARKAWAY    .SKETCHES. 


"  Yes,  they  be,  sir." 

"  Have  yon  looked  at  the  threads  this  mnming  ?  "  asked  the  mas- 
ter, stopping  in  his  task,  and  lookiDg  in  the  keeper's  face,  inquir- 
ingly. 

"  I  should  think  t  gist  did,  sir,  afore  daylight  Not  one  broke. 
All '«  right  as  a  trivet." 

It  was  a  plan  of  my  host  to  fix  pieces  of  thread  across  the  wckmIs 
in  various  parts.  So  that,  in  case  of  poachem  visiting  these  sancta 
sauctortim  without  being  seen  by  hia  watchful  keeper  Alap,  and  hi» 
supernunierHric!!,  it  might  be  known  by  the  thread  being  broken. 

rhecleaning  of  the  gun  being  finished,  ue  sat  down  to  a  breakfii^t 
of  aubstantials  that  uuuld  have  broken  the  hunger  of  a  regiment  of 
Irish  dragoons.  A  huge  piece  of  beef  stood  in  the  centre  of  the 
polished  oak  table,  surrounded  with  cold  chickens,  ham,  tongue^ 
pigcon-pic,  eggs,  rounds  of  buttered  toast,  and  other  suitobles  too 
numerous  to  mention. 

"Come,  my  boy,  come,  you  must  drink  a  pint  of  this  "tiff  ale;" 
and,  setting  the  example,  he  divided  the  snowy  froth,  and  quiiJTed  a 
draught  both  deep  and  long  from  a  targe  brown  jug,  which  was 
handed  to  him  by  the  attentive  Alap,  who  had  juit  drawn  it  from  a 
capacious  butt  in  the  jnws  of  a  cellar  beneath,  of  danger<m8  dimen> 
sions  for  an  explorer.  So  long  was  the  pull  at  Sir  John  Barleycorn 
by  my  host,  that  Alap  began  to  fear  the  remainder  in  reversion 
would  be  short  commons  for  him. 

I  took  the  jug,  and  drank  of  the  strong  beer,  giving  the  sentient 
toast  of  "  The  trigger,"  as  a  preliminani',  and  "  May  we  have  as  good 
sport  as  the  quality  of  the  ale,"  by  May  of  a  6nish. 

"  Some  of  the  early  birds  will  be  here  soon  now,"  said  my  host, 
looking  at  hiii  antiquated  watch. 

"  Here  comes  one  on  *em,  sir!  "  exclaimed  Jfap,  pointing  to  an 
equestrian  cantering  up  the  gravel  drive  toward?)  the  huusc  upon  a 
fine-looking  horse,  followed  by  a  mounted  groom  with  a  gun-cast 
under  his  whip-urm. 

'*  It 's  Tom  Jlerryweather,  as  usual,"  said  my  host.  "  First  for  the 
meet,  first  at  the  ileiith,  and  the  last  to  leave  good  wine.  Ha  !  ha  I 
ha  I     Tom  's  a  sad  dog !  " 

Tom  entered  the  room  with  a  remarkably  unceremonious  air,  and 
seizing  my  host's  hand,  extended  for  the  grasp,  they  both  indulged 
in  a  loud  hearty  laugh,  without  either  uttering  a  word,  which  clearly 
signified  the  extreme  good  terms  exi^iiting  between  the  cachinnatory 
tndulgers.  After  my  formal  introduction  to  Tom  Alerry weather, 
another  jug  ofide  was  brought  by  Map,  who  ofTcreil  it  to  him. 

"That's  your  sorts  I  "  exclaimed  Tom,  with  (foldfinch,  in  "The 
iload  to  Kuin,"— "  That 's  your  sorts  for  me  !"     And  his  voice  waa 
silenced  for  a  few  momenta,  while  he  swallowed  the  potent  liquid  ia^ 
very  con>tderable  quantities.  ^f 

The  host  stoo<l  watching  with  goodnaturnl  smiles  the  huge  drink 
of  the  thirsty  &porl>jnian,  and  said,  when  the  jug  was  brought  gra- 
dually from  his  lips,  "  You  can't  whistle.  Tom,  now— ba  I  ha  !  Iia  I  " 

Tom  screwed  up  lits  lips  with  a  guod  endeavour  ;  but  nothing  but 
a  pant  came  from  theui.  "  By  wetting  my  whistle  so  much^  I  've 
drowned  it,  farmer." 

Here  followed  a  second  edition  of  uproarious  mirtli  IVoni  the  tw«.- 
jolly  light-hearted  fellows. 


tw«^ 


THE    DATTU. 


S5 


*H«ro  they  come!  —  here  are  Uie  boys,  as  thick  m  hops!"  ex- 
rUimcd  my  host,  as  a  neat  bugg^y  quickly  approached,  foilowed  by 
I  dwhinp  tandem,  and  ii  dog-cart,  fall  of  merry  fellows,  a]]  laugiung^ 
aot\  imokinn  be.st  Havannahtt. 

After  mutual  con^rratutations  upon  the  fineness  of  the  weather, 
mtrotluctions,  and  Inrjfe  libations  of  the  admirable  beer,  ihe  party, 
eoDflEting  of  ten,  armed  with  double  barrels  of  the  best  kind,  fol- 
knrrtl  our  entertainer  and  his  keeper.  Tuiinediately  preceding  were 
dx  lubberly  bumjikins,  carrying  lung  sticks  in  their  hands  to  beat 
out  the  game  with,  and  two  brace  uf  diminutive  spaniels  were  obe- 
liifnlly  treading  upon  the  heels  of  Map,  much  against  their  inclina- 
tion. In  this  order  we  arrived  at  the  6rsl  wood,  and  before  the  bunip- 
kiiit  and  dog»  were  permitted  to  enter,  we  were  requested  to  take 
our  positions,  according  to  our  ta&tes  or  knowledge  of  the  location. 
After  each  had  settled  the  exact  place  for  his  range,  Alap  heard  the 
fXcUmatton  of  "All  right !"  from  his  master.  The  tittle  anxious 
muueU,  with  a  cheerful  cry,  sprang  into  the  thick  cover  to  the 
IPTCD  order,  foUowed  by  the  motley  group  of  bumpkadous  bipeda. 
I  was  plired  by  the  aide  of  ray  worthy  friend,  who  f.aid, 

"  Take  'em  right  and  left.  Never  raind  me.  Squire.  I  '11  strike 
a  lij^bt  at  'em  when  you  are  done  witli  the  tinder." 

Th«  dufcs  were  now  yelping  their  musical  cries,  having  started 
•cNoe  rabbits  or  hares,  which,  from  feelings  of  self-preservation,  con- 
IfaNed  in  the  wood,  despite  of  the  exertions  to  make  them  fair 
BiHca.  The  beaters  hallooed,  and  thrashed  the  trees  and  bushes,  and 
*1I  the  (futis  were  prepared  for  a  crack  at  anything  that  might  pre- 
•cnt  itwlf  to  the  ready  triffger. 

*•  Mark  ! — mar-r-rk  t "  hallooed  Slap,  as  his  well-tutored  ear  caught 
the  fir*t  flap  of  a  pheasant. 

High  over  the  trees  1  saw  him  mount  a  lon^;  distance  from  me. 
On  he  came  towards  where  I  stood,  with  his  many-coloured  and 
btsuliful  breast  glittering  in  the  sun.  Alomentarilv  I  expected  to 
Mr  him  fall  before  some  well-directed  aim.  Bang  I  bang  I  snapped 
•  fkmble  barrel ;  but  on  be  came  unscathed,  with  his  neck  stretcned 
«iit. 

"Jlisaed!"  whispered  my  friend.  "Take  it  coolly.  He's  for 
yoo- 

1  raised  my  gun,  covered,  pulled,  and  down  the  fine  fellow 
pfcomped  Ln  the  long  grass  at  my  feet,  flulleriiig  in  the  convuUions 
«rdaitb. 

"  Well  shot.  Squire! — well  xhot!"  said  my  friend,  picking  up  the 
bird ;  "  and  a  young  wick,  too,"  continued  he,  looking  at  liiit  spurs. 

Aft  I  was  char^'ing,  a  rabbit  po|)ped  out  of  the  underwood  with 
Uk  swiftness  of  li^ht,  and  as  suddenly  ran  into  it  again.  I  started 
M  a  Itiod  roar,  resembling  the  report  of  a  cannon,  issued  iVom  my 
b«t>  long  piece  close  to  me. 

"  What  use  Has  that?  "  said  I.     "  It  wns  impossible  to  kill  it." 

Be  looked  at  me  with  a  good-humoured  smile,  and  going  to  the 
Tvrgc  of  tiie  cover,  knelt  down.  Creeping  almost  the  length  of  his 
bodf  into  it.  alter  a  short  time  he  backed  out,  dragging  the  rabbit 
lidiufd  through  the  head. 

"They  never  fhow  a  tip  of  their  listeners  to  me  without — "  And 
h*  oonrl'udcd  by  giving  a  very  knowing  nod  with  his  lef^  eye  shut, 
od  holding  up  the  sltattered  head  of  the  iU-f«tetl  rabbit. 

D   2 


S6 


BAREAWAY    SKETCHES. 


*  Mark,  mark  cock  !  "  But  the  warning  was  tcarcely  given  %y 
dK  watchfitl  Map,  when  down  tumbled  a  woodcock  befuru  Tom 
KcnrvdUKf  s  gtuL 

**  To^  nerer  misses !  "  exclaimed  my  friend,  in  a  tone  of  admiira' 
tloK.    *■  A  tad  dog  that  Tom— ha !  hn !  ha ! " 

ABalhtr  raMHC  jumped  from  the  wocmI,  and  >itood  for  an  instant 
vtt  fbarat  seeing  u».  The  yelping  of  a  pursuing  spaniel  soon  de- 
tenaaaed  his  wavering  inclination.  Away  he  ran  with  the  Auctiiess 
af  wind.  I  lerelled  my  piece,  and  the  charge  cut  a  deep  furrow  in 
tkt  groand,  five  feet  at  least  behind  the  fugitive.  Bang  !  went  the 
nmatdag  barrel ;  but  on  fled  the  nimble  rabbit,  pursued  by  a  yelp- 
iagdog. 

'•  Now  1 11  stnke  a  light  at  him/'  coolly  observed  my  old  friend, 
as  he  brought  his  gun  to  bear.  The  echoes  rang  upon  the  surround- 
ing hills  as  the  rabbit  leaped  into  the  air  from  the  unerring  noisy 
piece. 

"  That  'a  a  long  one,"  said  I. 

"  Fetch  him— that 's  a  lad  ! "  he  said  to  the  dog,  who  brought  the 
rabbit,  and  laid  it  at  the  feet  of  his  master.  "  Squire,  that 's  what  I 
call  a  wii>e  o'  the  eye,  at  something  like  eighty  yards  off." 

"  Huw  could  I  miss  such  r  chance  ?  " 

*'  I  '11  tell  you  how.  You  didn't  hold  him  .itrtiight,"  replied  be, 
with  a  chuckle.     "  Now,  liere  corae  some  beauties  for  you." 

I  looked  down  the  middle  of  tlie  cover,  in  which  there  was  a  nar- 
row break,  and  towards  us  flew  a  brace  of  pheasants,  almost  side  by 
akd9>     1  pulled  at  a  long  (Hstance,  and  down  fell  both. 

"  A  long  shot  for  ever !  "  exclaimed  my  friend.  "  Too  many  at 
anc*,  though.     Keep  cool,  and  you  '11  bag  all." 

Th*  game,  being  driven  to  the  comer  of  the  wood  where  we  were 
tiivttl'g  now  rose  momenlarily.  Fln^h  aOer  flash  succeeded  each 
adtar.  as  the  birds  tumbled  over  to  the  earth.  Rabbits  and  hares 
nisheil  from  the  skirts,  and.  before  they  could  fly  from  the  more-to- 
bc-drraded  men  than  dogs,  were  bagged  as  lawful  spoil.  Few,  com- 
Mbfativety  speaking,  eflected  an  escape.  The  Rportsmen  selected  by 
nay  hmt  fur  this  yearly  "  battu  "  were  the  crack  marksmen  of  the 
V\Hinty,  and  not  one  but  would  deem  a  "clean  miss"  as  a  very  an- 
IM^in^  and  almost  an  unaccountable  incident. 

"  Kv<Ty  head  out,  sir,"  said  Map,  crashing  through  some  thick 
bom^U  into  the  open  space  where  we  were  standing. 
**  Aay  gone  back  ?  "  inquired  his  master. 

*^  Nai uuity  doubled,  sir.  Most  have  madefor  the  Hill-Ttloss  copse 
%IM  Iwkd  iIhp  chance,"  replied  Map,  putting  much  emphasis  upon  the 
QOMchMtkici  of  the  sentence.  . 

**  Nvw,  then,  gentlemen  !  "  hallooed  roy  friend.     "  Tom  Merry-  ' 
laaalbwv,  1  wy.  Turn  t" 

"  iHvr ! "  cricil  a  voice  which  cheers  the  horse  to  fly  a  rasper. 
■^  H«K»  \  ual"  said  Tom,  clearing  a  hedge  like  a  harlequin,  and 
btWHkil^  vUiM  to  us,  with  eyes  bright  with  excitement,  and  glowing 

•^*  Haw«  yon  had  your  share,  Tom?  "  asked  the  huM.  ^ 

"  k>N^v  hr«cr  i}'  l(<ng  taiU,  lea^h  o'  Saralis,  two  couple  and  a  half  of 

v».  ^-W  a  ri<ck."  enumerated  Tom. 
**  Ho«  ukait\  tuufTk } " 
'*  .Vus«>i  a  nbUt,  brcauM  I  diiln't  see  iL" 


4 


THB  BATTO, 


37 


-  ''Well  done,  Tom.     Tbftt  excuse  Bhall  pass  mutter." 

We  were  now  joioed  by  the  remainder  of  the  party,  who  had  en- 
joyed excellent  sport.  All  were  in  higb  dpirits,  and  ea^er  for  a 
oaatinuancc  of  the  glorious  amusement.  The  crew  of  biim])kins 
vere  all  chattering  and  haw-hawing  at  the  variou.4  anecdotes  each 
■wu  relating  of  the  others.  How  one  threw  himself  face  down- 
vards  into  a  bed  of  stinpng-nettles,  to  avoid  the  shut  flying  thirty 
Tarda  above  bis  head.  That  another  tripiicd  over  a  stout  prickly 
Waoible,  and  bawled  out  tJiat  he  was  in  a  steel-trap.  A  third,  upon 
lecing  a  weaxel>  called  nut,  "  Alark,  hare  * "  A  pheasant,  rising  close 
ander  the  foot  of  a  fourth,  so  frightened  him  with  the  sudden 
«hir-r-r-whis !  that,  turning  white  as  chalk,  be  began  climbing  a 
tree. 

A  balf-elad  urcliin  was  seen  approaching  us  astride  of  a  donkey, 
eridenlty  as  reluctant  to  a  quick  movement  mt  the  rider  was  desirous 
of  one.  IJe  held  a  basket  of  capacious  dimensions,  covered  with  a 
rloth  white  as  mountain  »now.  The  other  arm  clutched  a  stick  of 
weighty  material,  which  was  being  applied  vigorously  to  the  slowly- 
iocUnea  animal. 

"Here  comes  Jack/'  said  our  host,  "with  the  indispensables. 
CoiUband  that  boy  !  how  he  thrishea  Dick  !  " 

"  lie  *s  used  to  it,  sir,  and  doesn't  mind  a  straw  about  a  lickin'* 
Vm  is  vecood  natur', "  philosophically  replied  Map. 

We  prepared  for  the  anticipated  arrival  of  the  Mercury  from  the 
larder  oy  siuing  in  a  ring  upon  the  grass,  under  the  widely-spread- 
ing bnncfacs  of  a  che»timt  tree,  'rhe  spaniels  and  bcaterei  spread 
rfifwariTW  out  upon  a  mossy  bank  in  our  rear,  while  Map  stood  with 
loUed  arms  d  la  Sapolcon^  waiting  for  the  messenger  with  good 
Udiop,  with  anything  but  stoical  inditTercncc  as  to  the  "come  00*" 
of  the  event.  The  indignant  voice  of  Dick's  rider,  with  the  smart 
Uivack  firom  the  cudgel,  were  now  very  audible. 

*'  What  are  you  so  cruel  for.  Jack  ?  "  a»<kcd  our  host,  as  the  two 
iCleMth  effected  a  Irrmintis  of  their  journey. 

"  ife  won't  mind  mc,  zur.  80  I  puts  it  on  to  'em,"  replied  the 
dliOBounter.  "  I  wants  to  break  'em  of  his  bad  ways,  so  I  crack* 
'en  well,  xur." 

"  Ife  'a  too  old  to  mend  his  ways." 

"  The  parson  says  me  can't  be^  zur.  80  I  'spose  jackasses  can't," 
replinl  Jack  with  confidence. 

We  numl  with  Uughter  at  Jack's  unanswerable  argument ;  but 
be  looked  quite  serious,  and  wondered  at  the  reason  of  our  mirth. 

Diver*  quantities,  as  a  lawyer  would  say,  of  tempting  delicacies 
vrrr  abstracted  from  the  hamper.  Cold  chickens  of  delicate  com- 
pleaiona,  tongues,  ham,  bottles  of  milk-punch,  claret,  sherry,  and, 
laatly.  but  nut  the  less  to  be  appredateu,  a  capacious  stoue  jug  uf 
iIk  ulmirnble  ale. 

With  sharpened  appetites  we  tliscussed  the  early  luncheon.  Alerry 
WW  the  jest,  and  loud  rang  the  hearty  langh  through  wood  and 
vmle.  Never  was  there  a  set  of  lighter-hearted  fellows.  Upon  the 
coadusion  the  UbtTal  remainder  was  transferred  to  tlie  expectant 
iMysand  spanicld,  who  effected  a  rapid  demolition. 

"fihall  we  make  for  the  HilUAIoss  copse,  sir  ?  "  a^ked  Map. 

••  Yea ;  and  from  there  to  the  kiln  shrubbery,"  replied  his  master. 

Upon  a  gradual  elevation^  in  the  middle  of  acres  of  golden  stub- 


3» 


HAEKAWAY   SKICTCBES. 


ble,  was  a  small  coppice  of  nut-wood.  Through  it  murmured  a 
Tvarrow  and  deep  «Tcain  of  transparent  water,  lull  of  fine  perch  and 
roach,  which  could  be  plainly  eeeii  at  the  bottom. 

"  Oh !  for  a  bright  worm  and  a  hook  !  "  exclaimed  Tom  Merry- 
weather,  as  he  espied  a  perch  of  a  good  pound  and  a  half  weigbt 
gently  sculling  his  tail,  like  a  coquette  with  her  fan. 

"  Take  your  places,  gentlemen,"  directed  our  host ;  **  I  expect  we 
shall  drop  upon  Vni  here." 

In  went  the  beaters  and  dogs,  accompanied  by  Map,  and  I,  with 
my  friend,  stood  nt  one  end  of  the  copse,  close  to  the  verge  of  the 
stream.  Ilarclly  were  the  whole  of  the  starters  in,  when  "  Mark  !  " 
was  shouted  by  I^Iap.  At  the  same  instant  the  repurt  »f  a  gun,  and 
plump  into  the  stream  fell  a  cock-pheasant  close  at  our  feet.  My 
old  friend  looked  at  it,  and  whispered,  "  That 'a  Tom's  for  a  hun- 
dred. Kipht  through  his  head."  A  little  active  s]»aniel  rushed 
through  fwmie  reeds,  and,  seizing  the  liird,  hurried  off  to  obey  the 
loud  call  of  the  keej)er  to  "  Fetch  him  here.  Chloe !— fetch  him  !  " 

A  woocl-pigcon  darted  through  the  brnrclies  of  a  tree.     I  saw  the 
quick  pinion  as  he  Hushed  in  the  sun,  and  i^napprd  at  him ;  but  he 
was  past  just  as  the  shot  rattled  among    the    trees,   cutting   the 
leaves  off  by  scores  to  the  ground.     A^ain  roared  the  lung  gun  close  ' 
to  ray  startled  ear.     I  heard  a  slight  flutter. 

"Another  wipe,  squire.  I  've  crippled  him  t"  exclaimed  my  host. 
•'  Hush!  look  out!" 

A  fine  large  hare  cantered  leisurely  towards  us,  with  ears  erect,  as 
if  not  seeingor  caring  for  our  proximity.  She  passed  within  eighteen 
yards  of  us  ;  and,  throwing  back  her  long  ears  upon  her  back,  rat- 
tled away  at  her  best  speed. 

"Give  her  distance,  and  shoot  forward,"  said  my  friend.  Head 
over  heels  she  toppled  as  I  pulled,  and  laid  without  a  struggle. 

"  Fairly  killed.  Better  miss  one  than  hit  the  quarters.  Always 
aim  forward  at  a  Sarah,"  said  my  host. 

The  quick  succes»ion  of  reports  told  that  all  were  having  good 
sport.  A  brace  of  hens  sailed  over  our  heads  just  as  I  had  charged. 
I  took  the  right ;  my  friend  Uie  left ;  and  down  they  came  with  a 
simultaneous  plump. 

"  Mark  covey !"  shouted  a  boy;  and  five  barrels,  one  af^er  the 
other,  clanged  through  the  wootL  Like  bullets  the  remaining  par- 
tridges whittled  pa^it.  I  pulled  both  triggers  at  the  leading-brace, 
killing  the  second  bird,  and  in  n)y  hurry  missed  the  first ;  but,  be- 
fore he  flew  ten  yardn  further  the  charge  from  the  roaring  gun  of 
my  "eye-wiping"  host  was  driven  into  him.  Like  an  arrow  he 
rose  high  in  the  air,  losing  tlie  power  of  guidance,  looking  like  a 
soaring  lark,  and  with  the  velocity  of  one  seeking  the  earth,  fae 
bounded,  feet  from  the  ground,  falling  dead  as  a  stone. 

"  That  was  a  towerer,"  said  my  friend,  reloading.  J 

"They  are  hit  just  on  the  lower  part  of  the  spme  when  they 
mount  so,"  replied  I. 

"  Generally  just  behind  the  wings,"  said  mv  host. 
The  spanieU  were  now  yelping  with  ul{  their  power,  in  full 
chorus.  Their  musical  cry  echoed  through  the  cover.  Now  and 
then  one  might  be  ^een  ru»>hing  through  the  tall  grass,  in  full  chace 
of  a  fugitive.  Sometimes  tliey  would  leap  out  upon  the  field,  and 
snuff  tJie  ground  eiigerly  for  the  scent,  thinking  the  pursued  had 


THE   BATTU. 


59 


vicitni.    Not  finding,  back  tliey  doubled ;  and,  picking  it  up,  off 
thtf  rattird  aga.tn  merrily. 

"Somethini;  extra  here,"  nnid  my  ticst  in  a  lov  voice,  and  screw- 
ing up  hi*  left  eye,  '•  I  know  we  shall  see." 

Scmrcely  had  uie  words  escaped  hh  lips  when  out  burst  a  Cox  witli 
a  cub  in  her  mouth.  No  tally-ho  escaped  us ;  but  it  was  the  first  I 
kad  sern  without  giving  the  view-h<illoa.  Away  the  careful  mother 
went  with  her  little  one  over  the  hill  as  fast  as  tfhe  could  travel. 
Occafionally  she  turned  her  head  to  see  if  the  dogs  were  iu  view, 
and  then  continued  straight  forward.  Out  burst  the  nui:>y  team 
Joat  as  she  was  on  the  top  of  the  bill ;  and  it  required  all  our  exer- 
Chms  to  whip  off  the  ardent  dogs,  so  that  the  fond  mother  might  rest 
bcr  fvam  from  the  barking  pigmy  jwck.  After  eieveral  severe  cuta 
from  our  pocket-whips  the  presumptuoufl  8[)aniels  were  driven  back 
into  the  copse  to  resume  their  more  successful  task  of  springing 
Innif  l}ian  rnnning  a  fox. 

Uy  friend  was  standing  with  his  back  towards  the  stream,  close 
to  the  edge  of  it.  when  a  rabbit  whisked  past.  Over  and  over  it 
roUed  aa  his  never-failing  charge  titruck  it  through  the  head.  At 
111*  aame  moment  a  pheasant  towered  high  over  the  trees.  Rai.Mng 
bciagiin,  without  taking  it  from  his  shoulder,  the  outstretched  neck 
oTlnegay  bird  fell  backward;)  between  his  wings,  and  down  he  fell 
crash  inio  a  hawthorn-bush.  While  he  was  covering  the  victim  hia 
bai  feU  off,  and  rolled  into  the  water.  Quickly  it  floated  upon  the 
rapid  atream ;  an<l,  throwing  down  his  gun>  away  ran  my  host  in 
full  chav.  Now  he  stoops  to  snatch  the  broad  brim  ;  hut,  no  ;  it 
ncmpe»,  and  on  it  whirls.  A  bed  of  rushes  holds  tlie  fui:^itive.  Now 
be  mnst  recover  it.  Upon  his  knees  he  falls ;  stretdies  out  his 
r«*ilr  hand  ;  his  fingers  are  upon  the  brim  ;  they  clutch  the  edge; 
kii  balance  is  lost,  and  in  he  dives  head-foremost  into  the  water. 

AAcr  much  splashing,  and  amid  roarii  of  laughter  from  the  whole 
ptrtv.  who  bad  juM  concluded  heating  the  wood  in  time  to  witness 
thr  involuntary  bathe  of  out  host,  he  scrambled,  hat  in  hand,  upon 
tbe  bonk.  Shaking  the  water  from  his  clothes,  no  one  enjoyed  the 
}nk«  more  than  himself.  His  red,  fine,  hearty  cheeks,  seemed  ready 
ta  bar»t  with  the  loud  merriment  which  swelled  them.  But,  cast- 
iag  his  eyes  into  the  aoaketl  hat,  in  an  instant  the  laugh  ceased.  He 
pverrtl  into  it,  and  poked  his  Gngers  about  the  interior  with  a 
ringnUr  nir  up,  as  if  what  he  saw  requ!rc<l  the  more  convincing 
proof  of  touch.  Holding  out  the  hat,  he  approached  us  with  looks 
of  pride,  ami  haIlooe<l — 

••There 'a  aomething  more  than  any  of  yon  grinning  youngsters 
ma  aay.  1  've  bagged  a  rabbit,  a  long  tail,  and  an  eel,  all  at  once, 
aa  voa  may  sfty." 

ft  was  true  enough.  At  the  bottom  of  the  Iiat  was  a  small  eel  of 
■bout  four  inches  in  length,  which  was  scoope<l  by  strange  chance 
from  the  water  when  our  friend  accomplished  his  MticccitKlul  ttive. 

The  aun  was  ju«t  setting  as  we  wended  our  way  towards  our 
boeCa  oU-foshioned  farm-house.  AVIicn  we  arrived  the  contents  of 
tbvb^p  were  spread  upon  the  lawn  before  the  door.  By  the  side 
cf  lata  of  lures  and  rabbits,  lay  fifty-three  brace  of  pheasants,  three 
brace  of  portrtdgeft,  and  a  couple  of  pigeons. 

"  TtuC  U  a  tolerable  fair  bag,"  snid  I. 

•*  Vea,"  replied  our  host ;  "  putting  in  the  eel." 


raS  IWUCBY  OP  THE  PRESENT  DAY 

AXD 

THE  BEAU  OP  FORMER  TIMES. 

flvvd*  jn*  distinf^ish  a  dandy  ?  His  face  is  so  compoaed  utd 
ylHiii^  Ifeift  a  sculptor  wishing  to  represent  complete  repoae  Hid 
«faiftj  ■jgF*  make  it  his  model.  His  hiiir  is  artistically  raised^ 
ar  CBS  coned  according  to  the  fashion  of  the  day,  not  a  lock  being 
«tf  of  its  place.  His  eyes  have  not,  indeed,  the  fish-tike  exprenioa 
•f  a  Datcbman's ;  but  they  form  a  striking  contrast  with  the  spark- 
fag  Tonng  eyes  uf  the  native  of  the  soutli.  Uis  \ips  are  a  little  com- 
pmsed.  Hia  coat,  without  a  plait,  and  of  an  elegant  fit,  is  so  little 
remarkable  for  ihovr  or  ornament,  that  it  might  serve  a.H  an  example 
of  the  levelling  spirit  of  the  times;  his  linen  is  spotleris  ;  his  bearing 
seems  careless  and  negligent,  but  is  neverthelesK  studied.  His  de- 
meanour is  cold,  and  always  the  snme;  bo  that,  as  a  modern  author 
remarks,  if  a  thunderbolt  were  to  strike  the  wall  of  his  room  with- 
out destroying  it,  he  would  order  his  valet  to  replace  the  mirror 
tteeetaary  for  the  business  of  the  toilet.  His  accent  ami  voice  art 
modified  in  a  manner  peculiar  to  the  English  language  ;  he  speaks 
quick,  but  monotonously,  scarcely  opening  his  mouth,  and  keeping 
his  tongue  close  to  his  teeth ;  he  gives  utterance  to  his  thought* 
in  as  laconic  a  manner  as  possible,  as  if  time,  his  most  important 
e^Htal,  were  not  to  be  wasted.  He  is  sometimes  fastidious,  and 
•oawtimes  careless  in  the  choice  of  his  words ;  but  he  has  no  great 
variety  of  them  ;  so  that  if  English  were  one  day  to  become  a  dead 
language,  ttgradut  ad  Parnassum,  founded  on  the  conversation  of  a 
dandy-like  gentleman,  would  be  very  poor  in  the  cpithcta  ornantia  ; 
lor  the  word  capitnt  always  expresses  his  satisfaction,  and  the  word 
odd  his  displeasure.  The  voice  of  the  dandy  is  rather  efieminate  ;* 
w  if  tbe  speaker  still  feared  the  reproach  of  coarseness  directed 
•MiMt  the  English  language  in  France  under  the  ancicn  regime, 
WtkH  atiU  apply  to  the  modern  gentlemen's  varied  tone  of  voice. 

fimum—*  him  with  the  fashionables  oi  former  times.  —  the  lively 
WtTWKlfi  of  Chflrles  the  Second,  and  the  English  beaus  of  the  last 
fMMty.  What  a  contrast  do  they  present!  How  would  a  Chandot 
W  llMKked,  if  be  saw  bis  great  ancestor,  —  whom,  as  a  Tory^  he 
WM  bwnour,  —  the  Duke  of  Buckingham,  —  V'ilUers,  the  witty 
VMMffiM  minister  of  Charles  the  Second,  who  invented  the  word 
«*M Mmqumtly  employed  at  that  time,  revelling  in  taverns,  or, 
lailil  Shaftesbury  and  Rochester,  rescuing  his  mistresses  from  the 
mff  gvwMlumnured  Charles  the  Second  1  Even  a  modern  Air. 
SlwiMp*  vwild  perhaps  find  his  great  ancestor.  Lord  Chesterfield, 

%  y^wa  kW  MIoTtug  oanverutioTi,  which  once  took  place  iu  a  mfTiv- house,  wa 
VaM  owchtHIr  tMl  VooM  l^oko  with  a  Iriud  ihuodtrlng  vuioe,  and  the  duidy  in  a 

%S^fc*i 

•■  \\4t  ,  acapof  oonee,  weak  aa  a  lodf  falUi^into  a  awooD,  and  cool 

^  y^Wts    XVsilvr,  a  rut*  uf  ouflr*',  hot  u  b«ll,  nod  itrong  aa  the  devil. 


"  VWV»Y    Pt«y,  **iwr,  what  i*  the  gentleman's  nunc? 
"  f«*««.  rrkjTi  vwiVt  wtiat  (*  that  lady's  nuns  ?  '* 


THE    DANDY   OF   THE    PEEHENT   DAY. 


41 


ridicalaai^  if  he  were  to  appear  without  a  dress-coat  or  snuff-box, 
litgnndJng  only  on  that  grace  i^gere^  which  ruled  as  sovereign  the 
ancim  regime* 

Time  has  wonderfully  chnn^ed  the  aristocracy  of  Encland  —  on 
the  whole  for  the  better,  thouf^h  sometimes  in  a  laughable  way. 
What  a  pity  that  no  AtUlison,  Fielding,  or  Bulwer  was  to  be  found 
amonf!  the  English  o^  tl)c  Restoration,  to  give  us  a  lively  pic- 
tntc  of  tlie  details  of  the  reaction  against  the  severe  puritanism  of 
Oencvaf 

Look  at  a  portrait  of  a  cavnlicr  of  Cromwell's  time,  or  of  a  courtier 
in  llkat  of  Charles  the  Second.  The  fuce  is  muscular,  marked 
fay  tCnrng  passions,  swollen  by  iwnsu.il  plea>ture|  with  eyes  and  Itps 
botdly  prominent ;  his  coat  is  rich  and  showy,  his  bearing  lordly 
and  daring.  So  loud  and  deep  was  then  the  tone  of  voice,  even 
in  sociaJ  intercourse,  that  it  sounded  to  southern  ears  like  the 
raarkig  of  wild  animals.  Swearing,  now  quite  out  of  fashion,  in- 
MtlMad  every  phrase,  and  ofi'ended  the  puritans  even  more  than 
drialuDfl  and  6ghUng.  "  My  good  friend,"  said  Cromwell  once, 
ffooicidiy'r  to  a  royalist  whom  he  wished  to  banish,  "  t  advise  you 
lo  stay  no  longer  here.  Swearing  is  taxed  by  the  English  Par- 
t^ft«it  juid,  u  you  can't  leave  it  off»  you  would  soon  completely 
ruin  yourself." 

Lm  me  intagine  a  dinner  at  the  Court  of  Charles, —  the  rollicking 
Roclaeater,  ISuckingbam,  Shal^esbury,  Uio  King,  —  champagne  and 
SpaaUli  wines  ttuwing  in  streams, — one  witticism  following  another, 
—  not  the  iircsent  puns  or  allusive  jokes,  but  biting  personalities,  at 
wbich  the  King  was  certainly  not  bebind-hand,  though  he  sometimes 
Conld  not  find  a  ready  repartee.  "  Shaftesbury,"  said  he  once,  "  you 
«r»  the  greatest  rogue  in  the  kingdom."  —  "  Of  a  subject,  sire," 
added  Shaftesbury  immediately,  with  a  bow,  and  the  King  was  ex- 
|KMed  to  tiw  laughter  of  the  rest  of  the  courtiers.  On  anotlier  oc* 
CBftleo  Ite  was  obliged  to  listen  to  an  impertinence  of  Rochester, 
vho  rtttd  before  his  face  the  following  epitaph ; 


"  Uere  lies  our  sovereign  Lord  ihc  Ring, 
Whose  word  no  man  relies  on, 
Who  never  said  a  fooltsh  thins;, 


And  never  did  a  wise  one. 


to  blush  and  look 

company   of   Lady 


^H       The  ladies  who  were  present   never   &uled 

^B    down  on   hearing    witty  inuendos,    until    tiie 

V     Portfuoath  and  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland  had  taught'tbem  to  b« 
iwaodest. 

Thongh  cUsses  and  parties  were  really  more  separate,  they  avoided 
casual  and  common  intercourse  much  less  than  at  present.  In  the 
tevcnu  of  London  were  tu  be  seen  the  splendid  laced  coat,  the  innu- 
■oallle  loops,  the  long  curls,  the  bat  with  feathi-rs  of  the  age 
of  Loaiai  the  Fourteenth,  mingled  with  the  plain  dress  of  the 
pvritxn  citizens.  However,  the  dandy  distinguished  himself  from 
thes»,  not  so  niucl)  by  outward  show  as  by  nuise,  drinking,  and 
cursing.  Itt  Uie  country  you  met  only  geiitlcmi>n,  who  added  to 
the  cuanencss  of  civil  war,  and  the  bluntnesD  acquired  in  early  life, 
the  licenliiMisncss  of  their  chiefs,  whose  wit  they  did  not  nosftcss, 
and  wlKHe  polite  maimers  were  unknown  to  ihetn.  When  trier  np- 
.  at  Court,  often  in  the  uniform  of  civil  war,  they  were  iuvari- 


TBE   DANDY   OF  THE    PRESENT   DAT 


Mf  objects  of  ridicule  to  the  young  wits.  They  therefore  returned 
booAIt  Co  their  country  neats,  to  complain  bitterly  of  the  ingrad- 
Cade  of  the  merry  monarch,  to  hunt  foxes  ami  liares^  to  a^»i>ciate 
vkh  their  tenants,  and  to  Uy  the  foundation  of  that  class  of  country 
liratlemen,  who  in  the  last  century  supplied  Fielding  with  the  type 
of  the  incomparable  Squire  Western.  If  the  two  periods  be  com- 
pared, without  re^rtling  the  interval,  it  would  appear  th^t  the 
CftTaliers  of  those  days,  and  the  gentlemen  of  the  present  time^  hud 
not  a  drop  of  the  same  blood  in  their  veins.  In  England,  however, 
the  same  passion  for  fox-hunting  and  the  turf  is  still  to  be  seen ; 
the  English  flag,  even  then  powerful,  has  since  waved  victorioutdy 
on  all  the  seas  of  both  hemispheres  ;  the  Parliament,  as  full  of  eiur* 
gy,  and  prudent  as  formerly,  make<i  laws  that  will  one  day  be  as 
»acred  as  the  Habcns  Corpus  of  Charles  the  Second  ;  England  willf 
when  occasion  shall  arrive,  give  birth  to  new  Blakes ;  and  an  Al- j 
gernon  Sydney  will  always  be  i'ound  in  case  of  need. 

Whence  comes,  then,  the  striking  contrast  between  the  two  por- 
traits ?  It  proceeds  from  the  national  character,  —  from  tlie  desire 
of  individuals,  as,  well  as  of  cla^sea,  to  take  precedence  of  others,— 
from  national  pride,  that  repels  with  contempt  everything  foreign. 

The  wrecks  of  feudal  nobility,  broken  and  humbled,  descended 
from  the  Normans,  which  since  the  time  of  Kdward  the  Third  had 
been  overpowered  by  Saxon  elements,  by  violence,  and  by  the  pro- 
gre«0  of  civilization,  rallied  once  more  round  the  throne  to  vanquish, 
if  possible,  the  hated  majority  represented  by  the  Parliament.  They 
were  beaten.  Their  defeat,  however,  was  not  attended  with  such 
tremendous  consequences  as  that  of  the  feudal  nobility  of  France  in 
17B9.  The  serious  character  of  the  English  preserved  the  nation  from 
anarchy,  from  bloodslied,  and  from  a  revolution  of  property ;  the 
royalists  defeated  al  Worcester  and  Naseby  were  .spared ;  but  few 
acts  of  violence  were  committed,  and  they  were  sufficiently  blamed 
by  public  opinion.  The  chiefs  alone,  and  a  small  body  of  their  fol- 
lowers Hed  ;  the  |;rcater  |)art  remained  behind,  and  KufTered  no 
greater  calamity  than  the  irritation  and  annoyance  arising  from 
C'romweir^  famous  espionage.  It  is  well  known  that  the  victorious 
majority  of  the  nation  during  that  political  reaction  vnas  inclined 
to  the  severe  tenets  of  Calvinism,  which  naturally  lead  to  a  liberal 
form  of  government.  This  was  exemptiOed  during  the  civil  war. 
The  republican  spirit  gained  ground;  but  it  grew  daily  more  and 
more  gloomv.  till  at  last  it  degenerated  into  a  zealous  monkish  fa- 
naticism. This  never  wnuld  have  happened  in  merry  France,  if 
Henry  the  Fourth  had  adhered  to  the  party  to  which  he  owed  hi* 
crown,  and  which  had  shed  its  blood  for  him.  Pleasure  and  gaiety 
were  in  the  eyes  oi  those  austere  republicans  who  traversed  the 
•creels  of  London  with  a  sword  in  one  hand  and  a  Bible  in  the 
other,  damnable  and  diabolical  things.  To  sing  a  merry  song,  to 
play,  or  to  dance,  was  considered  by  them  as  a  sin;  but  to  frequent  i 
the  theatre,  or  to  swear,  was  an  abomination.  \ 

The  IWliament  decreed  fines  and  corporal  punishments  against 
Mcb  indulgences,  ami  prescribed,  instead  of  recreauons,  fasting  and 
mf«r.  No  wonder  that  the  royalists  and  muderate  men  complained 
f  OHMVwion.  No  wonder  tiiat  they  bated  their  enemies  ;  iur,  in- 
■Mcf  gloomy  contemplation,  rigid  morolitv,  and  iienurious  eco- 
jsmtcj^  dMy  wen  voLarics  of  pleasure,  lice nUouan ess,  and  extrava- 


ASD   THE   BEAU    OP  FORMER    TIMKS. 


4S 


I 


I 


gance.  AAer  the  Bestoration  the  casnat  contact  of  their  opponmu 
vtt  not  necessary  to  pomt  out  the  distinction  between  tlie  Cavalier 
Bad  the  Roundbead.  When  they  were  in  mixed  txiciety  ther  cer- 
tainly nn  no  risk  of  being  mistaken.  The  ugly  dTes»  of  the'Puri- 
tan;  th«ir  crapped  hair,  which  i^ained  tttem  the  appellation  uf 
Roundheads,  mtae  them  appear  to  diRadvantagc,  in  the  eyes  of  all 
people  of  taste,  by  the  side  of  the  gay  courtiers  attired  in  the  stitT, 
bat  «plen<lid  and  mnjestic,  dress  of  the  time  of  Louis  t]ie  Four- 
Imth.  It  was  not  till  Ion/?  af^er  the  Re&toration,  when  new  genera' 
tipD»,  gnided  by  different  political  views,  found  themselves  in  a  new 
mtmanumt  that  the  tone  of  society  changed,  and  an  alteration  was 
pradartd  both  in  the  character  of  individuals,  and  their  outward 
deneanour. 

The  same  aristucmtic  desire  to  be  distinguished  from  classes  who 
CaRDOC  he  kept  under,  and  to  whom  the  circumstances  of  active  life 
aflbrd  a  thnusjuid  opportunities  of  surpassing  a  superior  cnste,  gave 
tntth  In  tite  rawlern  dandy.  How  Hhall  the  scions  of  nubility,  wha 
vuh  to  maintain  at  least  a  social  superiority,  now  render  theniselvca 
OMispicuous .>  By  splendid  dresx,  and  rich  ornaments?  By  lavish 
cxpexKUiure  and  display  f  Many  a  grocer  or  cotton-spinner  coa 
oattKin*  even  the  peer,  now  mucli  more  the  younger  son  ? 

All  that  a  young  man  of  rank,  therefore,  can  now  do,  is  to  be  more 
Cairful  in  the  choice  and  arrangement  of  hia  dress;  and  the  secrets 
«f  fashion  reveal  to  him  niceties  of  the  art  that  arc  concealed  fVom 
ndgar  eye*.  Shall  the  relations  of  the  nobility  render  themselves 
-nmarkable  by  the  purity  of  their  language,  and  their  unconstrained 
lllinisiiiiiiii  ^  Education,  however,  is  as  general,  and  even  mure  dif- 
foaed  naong  the  middle  classes  ;  and  the  majority  of  the  affluent  in 
Eiiflind,  by  social  intercourse,  and  travelling  in  foreign  coun- 
trk»,  acquire  the  same  elegant  maimers. 

A*  a  matter  of  course  he  belongs  to  that  coterie,  in  which  a 
coamittee  of  distinguished  Indies,  rulers  of  the  fashionable  world, 
award  with  discnmination  the  privilege  of  belonging  to  nristocra- 
lical  •ocirty,  for  which  so  many  Englinhmen  vainly  sigh.  It  may 
•uily  b«  supposed  tliot  n  danily  shuns  the  man  who  is  not  one.  At 
tha  pUy  he  conducts  himself  like  ilngartli's  couple  in  the  print  of 
**  Tie  Lak^Mng  Antlirnce."  He  goes  to  the  theatre  for  fashion's  sake. 
If  rou  ask  him  how  he  liked  the  Opera  ^  he  .-mowers,  "  the  conver- 
■atifin  hi  our  box  was  very  pleasant  and  agreeable." 

Alas !  the  golden  age  of  the  dundy  is  already  past.  In  the  first 
yrar*  of  the  present  century  his  sun  shone  m  all  its  splendour 
ID  the  aristocratic  world  ;  afterwards  it  became  a  little  overclouded. 
and  suddenly  set  In  1832,  when  the  Reform  Bill  was  passed.  What 
a  magniftcFnt  time  for  the  dundy  whi>n  he  could  entt'r  Parliament, 
and  was  sure  by  his  vote  to  de.<>ervc  a  reward  from  the  iVIinister. 
The  hi^h  aristocracy,  the  proprietors  of  that  excellent  kind  of  nru« 
frcrty,  rotten  boroughs,  used  to  send  numerous  rejireiientatives  of  the 
corps  at  dandies,  of  which  the  younger  sons  of  the  nobility  usually 
lorn  tlir  nucleus,  to  the  Lower  House.  "Send  for  our  school- 
boys." saiil  Casllereagh  once  to  a  colleague,  meaning  the  daniliea. 
Members  of  Hnrlinmcnt,  who  were  dispersed  in  the  neighbouring 
raflee-bmisca,  ready  to  be  called  in  to  vote.  Voting,  in  fMCt, 
wa«  their  only  burliness;  though  Sir  Frani-is  Burdt-tt  anil  Lrjrd 
Broogham.  tlwn  Mr.  Henry   Brougham,   will  certainly  remember 


DAT. 


-Hflvl  hear!' 


ii-hen 


K  hf  vfaoch  ibej-  notified 
AJbi !  tbe  lucky  ^titr  of 
r  4Bp*aiibIe  advantage  from 
I  hnogbs,  beeo  thrown  uit 

(y,  even  though  a  Tory,  nc 

«Kpu«e  his  predous,  dear  uelf,  

4f«B election?  Huw  could  he  ven- 

tad  <le;gant  clothes  tu  he  pelted  with 

>;  *w  nan  tlie  risk  of  being  oblieed  to 

.^    .^Mi^^rflkit  cemnony  an  elector  would,  per. 

^fc    lb  bM  htmi»  as  may  be  seen  in  Hogartb'i 

^Bp^Mfr  ^  Sft»  laat  century,  the  beau,  was  quite  a 
.^^    Ifc—  iHMally  intent  upon  adorning  liiroself ; 
-aB*^Hk  a  little  embarrassed  on  occasiona  that 
-^kftrW  had  not  a  native  exteriur.     While 
^  0am  Ml  acope  to  his  natjoiial  whims,  tlit 
^rw  harped  dancing  and  fencing  from  French 
^-:ai2  of  succulent  roairt-beef;  fell  into  ecsta#- 
.     .   -  utncQi ;  kept  parrou,  apes,  French  valets^ 
^««BMKk.  alao,  an  Italian  musician,  whom  John 
A.3«i;piA-«craper.    If  the  beau  wa?  informed  that 
.  jgm  t^«ck  the  night  before,  and  beaten  the 
■«  .^«4  4*'cwck%hts,  fox-hunting,  and  other  sporty 
m^hb^Jmm^  vf  ^c  existence  of  narb/irous  manncTL 
•«»  •  WiSv  be  found  everything  excessively  bad; 
.^  y^yMKtt  cix^kery  ;  declared  that  the  French  shrug- 
^  »■  (dRtfeJB^uiy  ;  eternally  found  fault  with  Prance; 
~^  jMMMjr:  Kill,  at  last,  aAer  he  liad  fought  two  or 
■•^MMpurcha&ed  a  court-dress  of  the  newest 
.  t— w  tne  Fifteenth,  he  returned  to  Englmd. 
Mfrvountry women  prudish,  stiff,  awkward,  in- 
jjwrf  the  Cluitincl,  and  were  he  asked  by  a 
^  lte40lM  of  the  French  ladies,  he  would  have 
t  fm  peintttret,"     In  short,  tJie  beau  was  far 
I  eoiuitryraen  and  to  strangers  than  the 
,  also  otlen  ridiculed;  the  sight  of  a  beau 
.^  )||»  a  duncing-miLstcr,   and    speaking   broken 
.^t^Mxiie  the  luud  laughter  of  tlie  pit  and  gal- 
•A  iMMortalieietl  him  by  representing  him  in   the 
..mMi  altitude  taking   snuff,  in  his  first  plate  of 
-III'  M  ap[>earing  with  a  monkey's  face,  dreawd 
^««.  ^fcilii  IS  court-dresjt,  and  bowing  with  the  moit 
,*^  gk  ka  ^n»  of  Tattte,  in  *«  High  Life." 
,  ^MIM  mtt—  to  the  present  and  future,  than  to  past 
■r—  iif  Qw"  1^^""  ""^^  ^^'  ^hc  two  Georges  could 
^^  «f  hioi;  )>«  v"  unknown  to  Addison,  Fielding, 
^M^    IJbtfiiUn  was  the  first,  who  described   him  ea 


45 


THE  JRISH  GENTLEMAN  AND  THE  LITTLE 
FRENCHMAN, 

It'«  on  my  wiMting  canls,  sure  enough  (and  it's  them  that 'a  all 
^ «'  pink  Mitin  paper)  that  inny  pntlcman  that  ptases  may  behouU 
die  intheristhing  words,  "  Sir  Pathrick  O'GraniHson,  Knight,  39, 
Southampton  Row,  Ru«&ell  Square,  Parrish  o'  BIrwmsbury."  And 
thud  ye  be  wanting  to  diskiver  who  h  the  pink  of  ptirlitcncss  quite, 
and  the  laider  of  the  hot  tun  in  the  houl  city  o'  London—  why  it's 
jict  meAcir.  And  fnith  that  same  ia  no  wonder  at  all  at  nil,  so  be 
plaaed  to  stop  curling  your  none,  for  every  inch  o'  the  six  wakes 
that  I  *re  been  a  gintleman,  and  left  alf  wid  the  bog-throthiiif;  to 
takr  up  wid  a  gintale  title,  it  'b  Pathrick  that's  been  living  like  a 
beulr  imperor,  and  gitting  the  iddication  and  the  graces.  Och  I  and 
iroafdn't  it  be  a  blessed  thing  for  your  sperrits  if  ye  cad  lay  your 
two  pecperri  jist  upon  Sir  Pathrick  O'Grandison,  Knight,  when  he 
j«mlL  rtddy  drissed  for  the  hoppercr,  or  stipping  into  the  brisky  for 
the  drire  mto  the  Hyde  Park.  But  it 's  the  iligont  big  figgur  thai 
I  J  havr»  for  the  reason  o'  which  all  the  ladies  fall  in  love  wid  rae. 
I  Isn't  it  my  own  swate  self  now  that  '11  missure  the  six  fut,  and  the 
tfalffc  itKOes  more  nur  that,  in  me  stockings,  and  that  am  cxsadingly 
«3I  proportionetl  all  over  to  match  ?  And  is  it  really  more  than  the 
librae  fut  and  a  bit  that  there  is,  inny  how,  of  the  little  old  furrener 
FUncknan  that  lives  jist  over  tlie  way,  and  tliat  '&  a  oggling  and  a 
Moling  the  houl  day  (and  batl  luck  to  him  !)  at  the  purty  widdy 
Hm&ms  Trmcle,  that 's  ray  own  nixt  door  neighbor,  (God  bbsa  her  >) 
■id  HOit  particuUer  frind  and  acqiiainunce  ?  You  persave  the  little 
nJpern  is  summat  down  in  the  mouth,  and  wears  his  li(\  hand  in  a 
dfitBg  ;  and  it 's  for  that  same  thing,  by  yur  lave,  that  I  'm  going  to 

I  P^^  y^^  ^^^  K**^  rason. 

'  The  thruth  of  the  hou]  matter  is  jist  simple  enough  ;  for  the  very 
fini  day  that  I  com'd  from  Connaught,  and  showd  my  swate  little 
MlTin  the  itrait  to  the  widdy,  who  was  looking  through  the  windy, 
it  wu  a  gone  cose  althegither  wid  the  heart  o'  the  purty  Miathress 
Trade.  I  persaved  it,  ye  see.  all  at  once,  and  no  mistake,  and  that  *s 
€od*«  throth.  Firtt  of  all  it  was  up  wid  the  windy  in  a  jiffy,  and 
lldn  ibe  tlircw  open  her  two  jieepers  tn  the  itmoat,  and  thin  it  was  a 
Ucde  gould  spV'glaM  that  she  clapped  tight  to  one  o'  them,  and  divil 
IMsybom  me  if  it  didn't  Kjtake  to  me  an  phiin  ha  a  peeper  cud  spake, 
maa  says  it,  through  the  spv-gUss  — "  Och  !  the  tip  o'  the  momin  to 
jr.  Sir  Pathrick  O'GranJison,  Knight,  mavoumeen ;  and  it  's  a 
iMte  gintlemaii  that  ye  are,  sure  enough,  and  it 's  meself  and  me  for- 
tin  iisi  that  '11  be  at  yur  sarvicc,  dear,  inny  time  o'  day  at  all  at  all 
fcr  the  Baking."  And  it  's  not  meself  ye  wud  have  to  be  bate  in  the 
parlitcnc«ii ;  «o  I  made  her  a  bow  that  wud  have  broken  yur  heart 
■Ithay'ther  to  behould,  and  thin  I  polled  aff*  me  hat  with  a  flourish, 
■nd  thtn  I  winked  at  her  hard  wid  both  eyes,  as  much  as  to  say  — 
"  Tfame  for  you,  yer  a  swate  little  crature,  Mrs.  Trade,  rae  dnrlint, 
«nd  I  with  I  may  be  drnwuthed  dead  in  a  bog  if  it 's  not  meself.  Sir 
Pathridt  O'^aiidtson,  Knight,  that'll  make  a  houl  bushel  o'  lore 
to  yur  tttldy-ihip,  in  the  twinkling  o' the  eye  of  a  LondoDderry 
pumrty." 


A6 


THE    IRISH    GENTLEMAN 


Aii(t  it  WAS  the  nixt  mornin,  sure  cnou)fh,  jist  as  I  was  makinf^  up 
me  mind  whither  it  vrouUln't  be  the  piirlite  thing  to  Hind  a  bit  o' 
writing  to  the  widdy  hy  wny  ol"  a  love-htter,  when  up  cuin'd  the 
deliverv  sarvant  wid  an  iltigant  card,  and  he  tould  me  that  the  name 
on  it  (ior  1  niver  cud  rade  the  copper- plate  printing  on  account  of 
being  lift  handed)  was  all  about  Mounscer,  the  Count,  A  Gnose, 
Looit-oi^y,  Maitcr-di-dauna,  and  thnt  the  houl  u'  the  diviti^h  linf^o 
was  the  Hpalpeeny  long  name  ol'the  little  ould  furrener  Frinchmaa 
as  lived  over  the  way. 

And  jist  wid  that  in  cura'd  the  little  willain  himself,  nod  thin  be 
made  me  a  broth  of  a  how,  and  thin  he  imid  he  had  ounly  taken  the 
liberty  of  di>ing  me  the  honor,  of  the  giving  me  a  call,  and  thin  he 
went  on  to  palaver  at  a  j^re.-it  rate,  and  divil  the  bit  did  I  compre- 
hind  what  he  wud  be  atlhcr  the  tilling  me  at  all  at  all,  excipting 
and  saving  that  he  said  "pully  wou,  woolly  wou,"  and  tould  nie, 
among  a  bushel  o'  lies,  bad  luck  to  him,  that  he  was  mad  for  the 
love  o'  my  widdy  Misthreas  Tracle,  and  that  my  wtddy  Mrs.  Tracle 
had  a  puncheon  for  bim. 

At  the  hearin'  of  this^  ye  may  swear,  though,  I  was  as  mad  as  « 
grasshopper,  but  I  remimbcred  that  I  was  Sir  Palhnck  O'Grandtfion, 
Knight,  and  that  it  wasn't  althegither  gentaal  to  lit  the  anger  git  | 
the  upper  hand  u  the  purlitenees,  so  I  made  light  o"  ilie  matter  and 
kipt  dark,  .ind  got  ouite  sociable  wid  the  little  chap,  and  aflher  a 
while  what  did  he  do  but  ask  me  to  go  wid  him  to  the  widdy 's,  wiy- 
iiig  he  wud  give  me  the  feshionable  introduction  to  her  leddyKhip. 

'*  Is  it  there  ye  are  ?  "  said  I  thin  to  meself — "  and  it '»  thrue  for 
you,  Pathrick,  that  ye  're  the  fortunnitlest  mortal  in  life.  We  '11  soon 
Bee  now  whither  it  'b  your  bwate  silf,  dear,  or  whither  it  *g  little  i^Ioun- 
•eer  Maiter-di-dauns,  that  ^lisUiress  Tracle  1.4  head  and  ears  in  the 
love  wid." 

With  that  we  wint  afT  to  the  widdy's,  next  door,  and  ye  may  well^ 
say  it  was  an  illigant  place — so  it  was.  There  was  a  carpet  all  over 
the  floor,  and  in  one  corner  there  was  a  fortv-pinny  and  a  jewa-harp 
and  the  divil  knows  what  iUe,  and  in  another  comer  was  a  sofy— 
the  beautifultest  thing  in  all  natur  —  and  tfittin'  on  the  sofy,  eu re 
enough  there  was  the  swate  little  angel,  fllisthrcss  Tracle. 

"The  tip  o'  the  morning  to  ye,"  says  I  — "  Mrs.  Trade"— and  ^ 
then  I  made  sich  an  iligant  obaysance  that  it  wud  ha  quite  alihe^- 
ther  l>ewildered  the  brain  o'  ye. 

'*  Wully  woo,  pully  woo,  plump  in  the  umd,"  says  the  little  fur- 
j-ener  Frinchnmn — "  and  sure  enough  Mrs.  Tracle,"  says  he.  thnt  he 
did-^"i.<n't  this  gintleman  here  jist  his  riverence  Sir  Pathrick 
O'Grandison,  Knight,  and  isn't  he  althegither  and  entirely  the 
most  purticular  frind  and  ac<)uaintance  that  I  have  in  the  houl 
world  ?  " 

And  wid  that  the  widdy  she  gits  up  from  the  sufy,  and  makes  ^e 
BWAtest  curtchy  nor  iver  was  seen  :  and  thin  down  she  gits  agin  like 
an  angel ;  and  thin,  by  the  powers,  it  was  that  little  Apalpren  Moun- 
•eer 
side  I 

out  of  my  head  on  tlie  spot,  I  was  so  ilispi: 
"Bait  who!  "  says  I,  after  a  while.  "  Is  it  there  ye  are,  Mounseer 
Maiter-di-dauns?  "  and  so  down  I  plumped  on  tlie  lift  side  of  her 
leddyship,  to  be  aveu  wid  the  willain.    Botheration !  it  wud  ba  done 


mgel ;  and  thin,  by  the  powers,  it  was  that  little  Apalpren  Moun-        . 

■  Maiter-di-dauns  that  plumped  hii>  self  right  down  by  tlie  rtgbt  ^H 

'.  of  her.     Och  hon  !  I  ixpicted  the  two  eyes  o'  me  wud  ha  cum'd  ^H 

of  ray  head  on  llie  spot,  1  was  so  ilispirate  mad  !     Ilowiver  —  ^^ 


AND    THE    LITTLE    FRENCHMAN. 


47 


rour  h«aft  good  to  persave  the  Hligant  double  wink  that  I  gived  hex 
jisi  thin  right  in  the  f»ce  wid  both  eyea. 

But  ibe  little  ould  Frinchmnn  ht*  niver  be^nned  to  suspict  me  at 
all  «t  ai\,  and  dUpcratc  hard  it  was  he  maile  the  luve  to  Iilt  leddy- 
ship.  "  WouUy  wou»"  «ayii  he — "  PuUy  wou,"  laya  he — "  Plump  in 
the  mud." 

"That's  all  to  no  use,  Mounseer  Fro^,  mavoumeen,"  thinks  1; 
lod  1  talked  as  hard  and  as  fast  as  I  could  all  the  while  ;  and  troth 
it  waa  ine»elf  jist  that  divarted  her  leddyship  coraplately  and  in- 
itirelr.  by  rason  of  the  illijjant  cuitversAlion  l>iat  1  kipt  up  wid  her 
fell  about  the  eiwate  bugs  orConnaught.  And  by  and  by  she  giv'd 
me  uch  a  twate  smile,  from  one  ind  of  her  mouth  to  the  other,  that 
il  made  me  as  bould  as  a  pi^,  and  I  jiitt  took  huutd  of  tliu  ind  of  her 
littJe  finger  in  the  most  dillikitteett  manner  in  natur,  looking  at  her 
aU  the  while  out  o'  the  whites  of  my  eyvn. 

And  thin  only  to  persave  the  ciitene^e  of  the  swate  angel ;  for  no 
Mooer  did  »he  ubiiarve  that  I  wait  afther  the  squazing  of  her  Bipper, 
dkan  ilie  up  wid  it  in  a  jilfy^aiid  put  it  away  t>ehind  her  back,  jist  as 
much  aa  lo  aay, — "Now,  thin,  Sir  Pathrick  O'Grandison,  there's  a 
blUher  chance  for  ye,  mavoumeen  ;  for  it 's  not  althegither  the  gen- 
tail  thing  to  be  ai^her  the  squazing  of  my  flipper  right  full  in  the 
Hfht    of    that    Little   furrcnner   Frinchmao,   JMounseer   Maiter-^i- 

Wid  that  I  giv'd  her  a  big  wink,  jiat  to  say, — "Lit  Sir  Pathrick 

ilfNie  for  the  Ukes  o*  them  thricks."     And  thin  I  went  aisy  to  work. 

amd  roil  'd  luive  died  wid  the  divarsion  to  behould  how  cliverly  I 

•Dppra  my  right  arm  betwanc  the  bark  o'  the  holy  and  the  back  of 

htv  Ie<Klv«hip,  and  there,  aure  enough,  1  found  a  swate  little  flipper 

all  a- waiting  to  say,   "The  tip  o'  the  morn  in' to  ye,  Sir  Pathrick 

O'Onuidiiian,  Knight."     Aiitl  wnnii't  it  mesetf,  sure,  thiit  jist  giv'd 

the  Lute  little  bit  of  a  equaze  in  the  world,  all  in  the  way  of  a  cum- 

■tecemcnt,  and  not  to  be  too  rough  wid  her  leddyship  f  —  and  och, 

boChcraaon,  wasn't  it  the  gentaale»t  and  delikittest  of  all  the  little 

•fB*s«a  that  I  got  in  return?     "  filood  and  thunder,  8ir  Piithrick. 

SBTOomecn  !  "  thinks  I  to  raeself,  "  faith,  it  'a  ji^t  the  muther'tt  son 

«f  ytni,  and  nobody  else  at  all  at  all,  that 's  the  handaommcst  und  the 

'        faatunilteit  yoang  bogthrolter  that  ever  cum'd  out  of  Connaught !  " 

Aaid  wid  that  I  giv'd  the  flipper  a  bi^  squase  —  and  a  big  aquaaie  it 

wa*.  by  the  [Kiwcrs,  that  her  leddyship  giv'd  to  me  back.     But  it 

wud  ha  aplit  the  seven  sides  of  you  wid  the  Uflin  to  behuuld  jitit  thin 

■ll  at  once  tlie  con3ate<l  behaviour  of  .Mounseer  ]^Iaiter-di-<laun8. 

The  bkc«  o*  aicli  a  j.-ibbcTring,  and  u  smirking,  and  a  parly-wouing  aa 

^H  1^  begin'd  wid  her  leddyithip,  niver  was  known  before  uponarth; 

^■and  difil  may  burn  me  if  it  wasn't  ray  own  very  two  peejjers  that 

^M  »Ub'd  bin)  tipping  her  the  wink  out  of  one  eye.     Och  hun!  if  it 

^M  waHi'i  mcnetf  ttiiu  tliat  was  aa  mad  as  a  Kilkenny  cat,  I  abud  Like  to 

^   betoold  who  it  was ! 

!  "  Let  me  itifurm  you,  Mounseer  Maitcr-di-dauna,"  aaid  I,  as  purlit 

^H  aa  irer  ye  teed,  "  thiit  '*  not  the  gintaal  thing  at  all  at  all,  and  not  for 
^Btbe  likea  m'  you  iimy  how,  to  be  after  the  ugglirig  and  a-gog^ling  at 
^^  bcr   leddyohip  in  that  fashion."     And  jiht  wid  that  such  another 
Hioajte  aa  it  waa  I  giv'd  her  flipper,  all  as  much  as  to  say*  "  Ibn't  it 
Sir  Pathrick  now,  my  jewel,  that  '11  be  able  to  the  proticting  o'  you, 
my  darlint }  "    And  thin  there  cum'd  anoliicr  st^uaxc  back,  all  by 


■zm   OtSriEStAS. 

^..     '  -v..  S:r  Pathrick/' — it  said  as  plain 

-  .— ■  Thrue  for  you,  Sir  Pathrick, 

— -  -xi:  r"~*5rtnan  ye  arc  —  that's  God'ii 

-.-r  •»-:.  hPT  two  Iwautit'ul  peepers,  till 

.i-  ;•:"  her  head  althegither  aiul  in- 

^     .     • ....  t*  a  cat  at  Mounseer  Frog,  and 

i*.      iVh  hon !  and  a  woolly-woii, 

— _::  ^f  shoved  up  his  two  shoulders, 

-    -.^  »-B?  :.^  be  diskivered,  and  thin  he  let 

.   -  — i-rt-trap.  and  thin  not  the  bit  more 

■i-  .-  :He  spalpeen. 

..-a.  S  '  Pathrick  that  was  unreasonable 

-   if.ct*  by  token  that  he  kept  on  wid 

*     ^    .   -^  •*.ldy  ;  and  the  widdy  she  kept  on 

^«*    is  much  as  to  say,  "  At  him  again, 

^       • .'  ■.«;  raeen !  "     So  I  jist  ripped  out  wid 

>-h,— 

..j_  ..■  1  bofr-throtting  soon  of  a  bloody- 

^.    -  \e  think  it  was  that  her  leddyt«hip 

.,.     ;■   -*m  the  sofy  a-*  if  slie  -was  bit,  and 

«'r.  f  1  turned  my  head  round  aflher  her, 

i  •.:  botheration,  and  followed  her  wid 

.     .--s.!!.'  I  had  a  rason  of  my  own  for  the 

.;■:  vii'wn  the  stairs  althegither  and  in- 

.    ■  ■    :\.\t  I  had  hould  of  her  hand,  for  divil 

V-.i  says  I, — 

'  .  .-•■  .1  mistake  in  the  world  that  ye  "ve 

-•    vNiilyship?     Come  back  now,  that's  a 

.*  r:pjH'r."     But  aff  she  wint  down  the 

«.-■  '.  :--.rned  round  to  the  little  French  fur- 

« -„>i-  L  his  spalpeeny  little  flipper  that  I  had 

.  •     .'■  '.1  -thin  it  wasn't — that 's  all. 

,.^..     'it:  jist  died  then  outrif^ht  wid  the  laffin, 

■k.,'  «hcu  he  found  nut  that  it  wasn't  the 

„^  Nrt-o  of.  but  only  Sir  Pathrick  0'(irandi- 

.:«..    v.tver  behild  such  a  long  face  as  he  pet 

-*<  ^^iJrandison,  Knight,  it  wasn't  for  the 

.    V  i'^Ser  the  minding  a  thrifle  of  a  mistake. 

-1       .■.■«:  it 's  God's  thruth  —  that  afore  I  lift 

^    .K-  ^oMipeen,  (which  was  not  till  afther  her 

,^    vw*''^*  "^  both  down  the  stiirs,)  I  gived  it 

^  .   .»  t  -.^iiiize,  as  made  it  all  up  into  raspberry 

.  ^  H       ••  MuUy-wou,"  says  he, — •'  Cot  tarn  !  " 
.1..,  li  »»i' the'rason  why  he  wears  his  lift  hand 


4» 


4 


3 


MR.    CROCODILE. 

SnsT    Sfmptttby  I    thou    bealuig   balm    of   every    ifoe-laccraLcil 
ommdI 
l^koo  tft  u  enteftil  as  the  {gentle  shower  to  the  thirsty  earth, 
Btrclwd  and  gupmg  beneath  the  buniiag  rays  of  a  blozing-siui — briiig- 
1  UifC  wail  lolace— in  a  crack  ! 

[     Feeble  ts  my  peo,  and  weak  my  wit,  in  the  attempt  to  do  justice  to 

^  tkf  eataWue  of  virtues ;  for  thuu  art  like  —  the  dew  of  eve  to  the 

diMptnc  lily;  the  wmidon-leg  to  the  cripple;  the  pellncid  oil  to  the 

vung  wick  ;   the  pig-tan  quid  to  tlie  wenther-beaten  tar;    the 

i»yt  to  the  juicy  fcrape,  or  the  indolent  Italiiin  ;  the  glass  of 
L'r  tKst  to  the  iveary  woftlierwoman  ;  the  favouring  breeze  to  the 
baoftlflicd  vewtel ;  the  bluvr  of  a  battledore  to  the  feathered  shuttle- 
awk;  -lh»,  &c-  &c  &c 


BbrJ'i 


Mr.  ComeUoii  Crocodile  was  one  of  the  nio«t  "picked  "and  perfect 
■ncimvot  of  the  lacrymose  lef;ion,  whose  ready  tears  are  promptly  6x*~ 
tmsd  at  the  recital  of  duuther'»  woe  ;  a  sort  of  hydrucephalaleinhic ;  a 
hu— II  ■piiii£iL  which  the  heavy  hand  of  sorrow  appeared  delighted  to 
•^neeacit  uio  nerer  squeezed  iu  vain. 

The  spider-»pun  cambric  wax  dixptayed  eternnlly  in  his  convulaive 
paap,  and  Mime  iJUnalured  cynics  had  the  temerity  to  oatert  that  it 
1  an  onion  within  its  delicate  folds ! 
viii.  m 


50 


MR.   CROCODILE. 


TLe  only  compoaition  in  which  Mr.  Crnoodile  indulged  were  wilU 
and  epiUplix  ;  and  be  invariably  appwired  in  decent  mounniig,  —  for 
bis  connexionft  were  so  numi'ruus  tbut  be  hud  usually  two  or  three 
futu-rulM  in  band  during  the  year.  ^     m 

His  ready  sympathy  naturally  won  the  con6dence  of  his  a<tiiiainfc-l 
ance,  and  he  was  cousequently  nominated  executor  by  miwt.    Two  mi- 
dt;rtakers  contended  for  his  putroiu^^e ;  and,  it  is  said  thai  there  was 
a  CKTima  feeling  —  quite  unallied  ti»  sympathy  —  aribing  out  of  tbeae 
funeral  transdctions,  perfectly  well  understood,  alUiough  never  ex-j 
preDfted*  m 

Ue,  moreorer,  enjoyed  quite  a  harvest  of  lepiciea  imd  mouminp- 
rings ;  and  his  "pickiiigti"  were  so  abundant  that,  like  the  fabled 
gnome,  he  might  be  said  to  live  upon  the  dead. 

Krivy  nicknamed  him  the  "  universal  executor." 

Amun^  the  mn&t  intimate  of  hi&  friends  was  a  gentleman  rejoicing 
in  the  nume  of  Pupsley. 

Peter  Pugsley,  Kbquire,  biid  in  his  youth  served  in  Indin,  in  the 
civil  department,  at  thiit  happy  perind  when  pild-dutit  and  diummids 
were  "  shovelled  up  "  (and  the  nutives  "  shot  ")  like  so  much  ruhbi(»h  ; 
and  when  in  seven  or  fuurteen  years  any  man  po<^ses»icd  of  a  tolerable 
capacity,  and  a  reasonable  tenncity,  wah  certain  of  >iccumu1nting  a  for- 
tune, returniug  to  KuglaiiJ  with  a  full  pur&e  and  a  disordered  liver, 
and  a  janndiced,  wash-leather  complexion,  that  seemed  like  the  verita- 
ble reHection  of  their  ill-gotten  gold. 

Pugttley  niiirried,  or  ratlier  bought,  an  amiable  woman,  (for  her 
worldly-minded  father  sacrificed  his  lamb  at  the  •dirine  of  Alammon,)^ 
who,  huviog  presented  liim  with  u  son,  departed  this  life. 

Having  Milisequently  engaged  a  young  "  ;ier«nn  "  as  governess 
his  heir,  she  mi  humoured  the  tetchy  Anglc^Indian,  and  rendered 
herself  so  indts[K.'uxabIy  necessary  to  his  comfort  bv  every  sacniice 
of  her  own ;  and,  in  tine,  contrived  to  miike  herself  so  very  agree- 
able (which  Nature  had  not— for  she  was  more  cunning  than  come> 
ly,)  thut  she  ultimutely  wheedled  the  wheezy  JMr.  Pugsley  into  a 
marriage. 

The  "dear  little  Frederic"  was,  of  course,  soon  found  to  be  very 
troublesome,  and  quite  above  her  control,  and  accordingly  despatched 
to  a  Mchool ;  and  then  it  wos  poor  Pugsley  discovered  his  eriwr ;  for 
Mrs.  P.  bad  played  her  cards  no  well,  that  her  partner  found  t04i  Into 
she  had  the  game  entirely  in  her  own  huudji.  Little  Frederic's 
governess  become  his  I 

No  sooner  bad  Frederic  arrived  at  an  age  when  it  waa  thoueht 
necessary  to  c1iih>so  fur  him  some  profession  or  pursuit,  than  IVIr*. 
Pugsley,  anxious  to  be  rid  of  her  step-sun,  very  amiably  oondeKcrndM 
to  take  the  management  of  tliia  momeutous  affair  into  her  own  hnndx. 
And,  pointing  out  to  her  obedient  spouse  the  great  udvantnges  of  his 
Eastern  connexions,  at  once  decided  that  nothing  on  earth  could 
be  better  tbtin  to  send  him  abroad,  either  in  a  civil  or  a  military  ca- 
pacity. 

Pugsley  immediately  exerted  himself  to  carry  hia  wife's  notable 

ErujtfCt  into  execution ;  tmd  his  wealth,  and  cuuaequent  influence  in 
eadcnhall  Strei't  rendt'red  the  imffused  task  so  comparatively  easy, 
that  his  iiidoifuce,  and  her  imptirtuuity,  for  unce  ^uinu  hand  in  baud. 
Master  Frederic  was  soon  equipped,  and  shipped  for  Calcutta. 


MR.    CROCODILE. 


51 


Tbe  climate  agreed  admi'raUy  with  his  constitution,  and  tbe  young 
cadet  speedily  obtnined  u  li*'Utenancy- 

It  WM  alwut  this  period  that  Mr.  CrocodiJe  had  the  good  fortune  to 
brcocne  acquainted  ivith  tbe  Pagsleys  —  an  acquaintance  which  was 
iperdily  ripened  into  an  intimacj  by  hib  sympathy  with  both  members 
of  the  family. 

lie  had  tact  and  discrimination  enough  to  discover  that  the  "  grey 
mare  was  tbe  Iwtter  horse,"  and  paid  his  court  accordingly,  making 
himself  so  agreeable  to  the  lady  by  his  tittle-tattle,  small-talk,  and 
oiminLog-pimming  attentions,  that  iiis  absence  was  always  felt.  At 
the  MUne  lime,  however,  he  had  the  policy  not  to  neglect  the  "  old 
gentirmaiu"  Uc  studied  chess;  and  learned  Just  enough  to  know 
how  to  be  inrarisbly  beaten  gracffuUy. 

This  was  the  best  "  move "  Mr.  Crocodile  ever  made ;  there  was 
always  a  "  knife  and  fork  at  his  service;"  and,  what  was  of  more  espe- 
cial importance,  this  weulthv  connexion  made  him  appear  in  the 
opiiuoa  of  the  rest  of  the  world  liS  really  "  bometliing." 

Hie  hd  is,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  ii'ugsley,  or  rather  Mrs.  Pugaluy  and  her 
hmband,  were,  to  the  eyes  of  the  multitude,  like  a  pair  oF  magnifying 
IfiMca,  through  which  they  looked  at  the  extraordinary  Air.  Crocodile. 

Licuteimnt  Frederic,  as  he  rose  (like  a  man  going  up-hill)  natu- 
rally extended  his  viewa ;  his  mind  became  enlarged,  and  his  ex- 
penses increased. 

His  alluwunce  was,  as  moat  allowances  are  to  young  officers,  insuffi- 
cient ;  and.  like  many  other  youths  in  n  similar  situation,  he  ventured 
to  draw  a  little  bill  at  "six  months  after  sight,"  ^vith  a  letter  of  ad- 
nee,  upon  his  affectionate  parent,  who  paid  the  bill,  but  "advised" 
him  br  tbe  next  vessel  not  to  do  so  any  more ;  for  his  better  half 
read  bim  such  a  lecture  on  tbe  "boy's"  shameful  extravagance  that 
poor  Pogaiey  was  in  bodily  fear;  and  concluding  her  lecture  with  a 
MavBtific  kick  and  scream,  had  sent  all  his  better  resolutions  to  the 
gnmnd,  and  so  shook  bis  nerves  tliat  he  was  not  tumself  again  for  a 
vhcdc  week. 

A  conaidcraUc  portion  of  Pugsley'sproperty  was  vested  in  the  hands 
$t  a  fint-rate  firm  in  Calcutta,  which  »aid  firm  was  not  quite  so  firm 
u  he  expected,  and  suddenly  failed  —  to  pay,  promising  to  pay  but  a 
trifling  dividend.  Mrs.  V.  who  was  really  a  woman  of  business,  and 
always  hud  an  eye  to  the  main  chance,  induced  him  by  her  ai^mentii, 
to  wLich  his  own  experience  made  him  yield,  to  make  a  voyage,  and 
•cttle  hi)»  affairs  with  the  "  hou»e  "  in  his  own  proper  person. 

Af  r.  Crocodile  being  consulted,  and  ascertaining  that  they  were  both 
fcr  once  unanimous  on  the  point,  profoundly  discussed  the  propriety  of 
Mcli  a  proceeding ;  at  the  same  time  hinting  in  n  delicate  way,  that  as 
&J«  w«a  uncertain,  it  would,  he  thought,  with  due  submission,  be  ad- 
visable that  Pugslev  should  settle  his  atfatrs  before  bis  departure.  And 
Puedry,  urged  by  ^lis  loving  spouse,  did  incontinently  make  his  will, 
^Diishiog  and  declaring  tbe  same  in  due  form,  as  prescribed  by  tbe 
act,  &c.  bvcjueathing  to  his  dear  wife  tlie  whole  of  his  real  and  personal 
ietate»  subject  only  to  the  payment  of  a  legacy  of  five  hundred  pounds 
im  hi*  sole  executor.  (Mr.  Crocodile,  of  counter)  and  a  Ufe  annuity  of 
i^^dfcrrc  hundred  pounds  to  hiK  extruvagiint  son. 

^^^P  In  a  few  days  he  departed  from  England  ;  and  in  twelvemonths 
^^^OUnrards  Mn-  I'ugalffT  received  the  mournful  intelligence  that  he 

K  2 


^ 


MR.  CROCODILE. 


had  depsrtpd  tbia  life,  after  a  most  sadsftctory  arrangement  of  hit  oc*^ 
counts  with  the  parties  abroad. 

Ready  ua  a  mristi-eiigine  on  the  first  alarm  of  a  fire,  Mr.  Crocodile 
waR  !wen  knocKing  nt  the  dour  nf  the  berearcd  wido\r,  with  his  ever- 
ready  tear- absorbing  cambric  in  lii»  hand. 

Shutters  were  closed,  and  blinds  drnwu  down,  that  the  eye  of  curio- 
sity might  not  catch  a  glimpse  at  tbu  secret  sorrow  that  was  preying 
upon  the  troubled  widow. 

As  JV!r.  CroaKlile  fttepped  lightly  in  the  hall,  and  whispered  to  the 
footman,  a  fiishionablt'  milliner  issued  from  the  drawing-room,  where 
ahe  had  already  been  receiving  the  instructions  of  p<Mir  Mrs.  Pugsley 
for  the  "  deepest  mourning,"  and — taken  her  measures  occurdingly. 

"  Poor  ludy  ! "  cried  the  sympathizing  milliner^  "  I  never  seed  sich 
grief  as  she  possesNeEt,  poor  dear  I  " 

Luckily  such  exliibitions  arc  rare  I  H 

Mr.  Crocodile  sent  in  his  card,  ond  was  instantly  admitted.  V 

"  My  dear  Mrs.  Pugsley !  "  murmured  Crocodile,  approaching  the 
mourner,  who  ^vas  extended  in  an  elegant  dishabille  upon  the  tiof&.        ^ 

"  O  I  my  friend ! "  cried  she,  grasping  his  hand  conmlairelyj  *'  wefl 
have  lost  him  ! — he  is  gone ! ! — he  in  dead  ! !  ! "  ™ 

Crocodile's  tears  flowed  apace-  The  nndow  sighed  and  sobbed,  and 
sobbed  and  sighed,  until  she  gradually  worked  herself  up  to  the  point 
faystericul,  —  winding  up  witii  a  sudden  shriek  that  frightened  the 
whole  household  from  its  propriety.  Muscles  and  nerves  became  alike 
on  contra  lliihte,  and  Mrs.  P.  kicked  like  a  "subject"  under  the  influ- 
ence of  a  galvanic  battery, — and— with  about  as  mucin  real  feeling. 

Afr.  Cnicodile  comprehended  the  caw  exactly,  and  administered  his 
condolatory  common-placex  (pro  re  natA)  with  all  the  skill  of  an  old 
practitioner.  I 

The  widow  placed  herself  entirely  in  the  hands  of  the  able  and 
experienced  executor,  and,  as  there  was  no  funeral,  the  affairs  yyer^ 
presently  in  train.  ^ 

The  old  AngU»>Indian  "cat  op " exceedingly  "handsonie,"  as  thefl 
p^mw  iSj  and  the  result  proved  infinitely  sootmog  to  the  afflicted  Mrs. 
Puealey. 

Mr.  Crocodile,  too,  was  so  obliging, — so  attentive, — so  everything  a 
lone  woman  could  desire,  that  a  fortnight  after  the  snd  intelligence  wus 
received  she  permitted  her  kind  friend  and  adviser  to  lead  her  to  the 
altar.     Yes,— 

'*  the  funeral  baked  meats 
Did  coldly  furnish  forth  the  oiarh:ige  tables," — 

and,  like  most  guests  at  a  feast,  the  amiable  Mr.  Crocodile  no  sooner 
found  himself  so  happily  "  placed,"  than  he  began  to  "  show  his  teeth," 
and  lake  upon  him  the  stern  prerogatives  of  a  husband.  Mrs.  Pugs- 
ley's  kind  and  sympathising  friend  became  in  ever)-  sense  her  lord  and 
master. 

And  the  '*  happy,  happy,  happy  pair  "  were  one  evening,  soon  after  j 
the  hard  knot  was  tied,  eugoged  in  a  discussion,  which  assumed  a  rerr 
different  tone  from  the  jiretty.  half-endearing,  hnlf-ianulizing  one 
arising  from  those  uminble  outbreaks  designated  Invent'  quarrels,  when 
lo!  liieuteniuit  Frederic  wan  announced,  and  abruptly  entered  the 
apartment  upon  the  heels  of  the  servant. 

"  What  is  the  meaninjf  of  this  iutrusiou?  "  uxdjumed  the  important 


MR.  CROCODILE. 


I 


I 


Mr.  Craeodilc,  witli  all  the  air  of  a  baabaw  of  three  tails.     "  Si^-Cap- 
taio  Pu^le^- — I  beg — " 

'*  Pray,  iir,"  goid  Frederic,  advancing  and  darting  a  witliering  glanoe 
It  llie  mmged  Crocodilcj  "  who  aru  you,  tliut  dare  assume  so  much 
rathority  in  my  father's  house  f  " 

"  Wlio  am  ]  ?     I,  sir.  am  the  husband  of  tliis  lady,  and  the  master 
•f  tliit  faouM,"  replied  Crocodile,  triumphantly. 
Tliii  was  a  hooie-thruat  I 

**  Harried  1 "  exclaimed  Frederic>  with  erident  surprise—"  married ! 
-already  married ! " 

"  Ym,  sir,  married ! "  fiercely  replie<l  Crocodile. 
Then,  sir,"  replied  Frederic,  with  a  bitter  expression  of  unfeigoed 
mpt,  "  to  say  the  least  of  sudi  conduct,  so  precipitate  a  match  is 
y  disrespectful  to  the  memory  of  my  father." 
''  Captain  Punier,"  said  Crocodile,  strilting  the  table  with  his 
denched  fist,  "  I  will  permit  no  cnmments  on  my  conduct,  or  on  that 
uf  this  amiable  lady.     If  yuu  are  displeased — " 

**  Not  at  all,'*  replied  Frederic,  interrupting  him.  "  I  am,  I  assure 
you.  rather  gratifieu  in  finding  that  I  have  tn  deal  with  {tersons  of  racb 
uurt%ned  feelings,  although  I  have  that  to  communicate  which  must 
firw*  Anything  but  pleasing  to  the  Helfisb  and  surdid  &auU  to  whom  I 
todl  I  have  to  address  mys^f." 

'*  What  do  you  mean?  "  demanded  Crocodile,  rather  ata^ered  by 
tfaift  orelimiaary. 

"  Xly  father,  before  his  death,  executed  a  will — *' 
'^  I  know  it,"  said  Crocodile. 

'*  In  which  he  bequeatlis  to  me,  his  lawful  son  and  heir — " 
**  Tbrce  huadred  |HiunJa  per  annum,"  interrupted  Crocodile. 
*■  The  whole  of  hi;*  property,"  continued  Frederic,  "  with  the  excep- 
Uoa  of  two  hundred  |>outids  per  annum  to  my  governess,  by  whom  he 
led  into  a  marriuge." 


•*  Ti»  £aUe  I "  acreamed  the  lute  Mm.  Pugliley. 

**  Tts  fiklie  I  "  echoed  Mr,  Crocodile,  and  then  added,  with  a  melan- 
cMy  sort  of  presentiment,  in  the  lowest  key  of  despondency,  *'  It 
aumot  lie !— it 's  impuBsible ! " 

Captain  Pugaley  bowed  stiffly,  and  withdrew,  and  on  the  following 
day  sent  a  respectable  solicitor  to  arrange  his  affairs  with  Mr.  Cruco- 
ditf,  who,  too  late,  found  that  he  had  acted  most  unwisely,  having 
rasUy  married  In  haste  to  repent  at  leisure  ;  for  old  Pugsley,  upon  his 
srrinl  tn  the  East  Indies,  had  nnexpecteilly  met  his  son,  and  happily 
falpoine  reconciled  ;  finding,  to  his  amazement,  upon  comparing  notes, 
tbBt  Fredrric's  step-mother  bad  intercepted  many  of  his  letters,  and 
mdcmTtfurrd  by  every  n)ean«  in  her  power  to  misrepresent  his  conduct. 
To  rrpair  tlie  injury  he  had  done  his  only  child,  he  instantly  made  a 
ocw  will,  and  revuKiag  the  former  one  he  had  been  jtersuadea  to  make 
ia  Eaglaad,  had  done  ample  justice  to  Frederic,  by  bequeathing  him 
lb*  boUc  uf  his  property. 

Swvrt  Mrs.  Pugkley  turned  sour,  and  Crocodile's  tears  were  for  tha 
ixit  time  in  bis  lue — real  and  unaffected  ! 

AhTRUO  Ckowqojli,. 


o% 


FATHER    MATHEW. 

BY    P.   U'TRAGITK,  ESQ. 

Wb  Irishmen  never  like  to  overpraise  ourselves.  Modesty  «l3 
ilitfiilence  are  otfr  acknowledged  qualities ;  we  are  a  retiring  people, 
not  prone  to  the  throwing  down  of  gloves  and  gauntlets  ;  but,  in  the 
name  of  Kria  lei  me  here  challenge  all  the  patentees  ant\  projectors 
under  heaven  to  produce  such  an  Invention  as  the  pt.kikir  1  ^1 

The  PLKUUB— what  is  the  plbdob?     Header,  I  will  endeavour  to  ^| 
explain  it  to  you.     It  is  an  invention  for  neutralising  poison,  and 
converting  drunkards  into  sober,  honest,  and  industrious  men  ;  and, 
surely  if  any  invention  in  the  world  be  entitled  to  the  everlasting 
gratitude  and  udmlration  of  mankind,  it  is  that  which  is  now  unfold"  ^j 
ing  it«  surprising  effects  in  Ireland.  ^| 

We  all  know,  alas  !  how  ancient  is  the  invention  of  wickedness  I  ^m 
but  to  hit  upon  the  happy  means  of  counteracting  a  deeply-rooted 
vice,  to  administer  an  antidote  which  shall  overcame  the  temptations 
of  the  ignorant  and  abandoned,  defy  the  scoffs  of  the  hardened,  the 
sneers  of  the  doubting ;  to  bring  peace  where  discord  reigned,  and  ^m 
substitute  the  comforts  and  decencies  of  life  for  the  bitterness  of  de-^^| 
spair : — if  fhii  be  not  a  great,  a  happy,  and  glorious  work,  deserving  ^^ 
to  be  exalted  above  all  inventions,  then  indeed  might  the  beautiful 
Queen  of  our  green  isle  lay  down  her  harp  in  de«pair,  and  moisten 
its  strings  with  her  tears  !      But,  no,  thank  Heaven  !  she  sits  erect ; 
her  poor  sons  daily  proclaim  their  joy ;  //try  srpcrve  not  fnrm  their 
voir  ;  and  the  point  is  settled,  with  a  few  exceptions,  by  a  nation's 
gratitude  to  good  Father  SIatukw.  ^I 

In  order  to  form  some  idea  of  the  previous  state  of  Ireland  as  to^| 
excesses  in  drinking,  which, while  they  degraded  the  poor,  surely  dis- 
graced the  rich  a  hundred  times  more,  we  have  only  to  dip  into  stuch  a 
work  as  Sir  Jonah  Harrington's,  or  listen  for  a  few  minutes  to  relations 
which  are  ever  in  readiness  ;  Kuch,  for  instance,  as  the  three  squires 
from  the  west  going  up  to  Dublin,  and  for  a  niontli  together  drink- 
ing *crrw/y./«'o  lumltera  of  whiskey  punch  per  diem  between  dinner 
and  bed-lime ;  or  Mr.  A,  who  used  to  sup  bo  regularly  that  his  bill  j 
was  never  known  to  vary. 


Supper,       .... 
Twenty  tumblers  of  punch. 


Oj.  2<f.  (meaning  four  biscuita,) 
10    0 


10    3 


Or,  Mr.  B.  never  going  out  to  shoot  without  three  pints  of  whiskey 
in  his  pockets,  which  he  always  finished,  shooting  tteadily  S  Or  the 
roaring  dinners  and  jollifications  of  Mr.  C,  and  his  round  dozen  of 
guests,  all  extended  in  due  time  upon  the  floor,  except  two  heroes. 
D  and  E  ;  who  on  one  great  occasion  drank  seven  bottles  of  claret 
more  between  them,  and  beginning  then  to  complain  of  a  great 
"  chill  in  their  stomachs*'  from  that  thin  coltl  French  stuff,  6nishcd 
a  bottle  of  brandy  between  them,  and  walked  home  (somehow  or 
other). 

It  may  be  easily  imagined  what  a  fine  ''  moral  effett"  such  pro- 


FATHER   MATUEW. 


I 


tfcdJngi  as  these  must  have  hatl  upon  the  ftervants  of  such  «  gentry, 
Oiir  Ictmats,  and  such  as  hatl  the  ini^ttbrtunc  to  be  their  <le)Kfndunu. 
Without  such  examples,  indeed,  our  poor  couiitrvmen  were  sufiici- 
mtly  abandoned  to  the  vice  of  drinking,  and,  wlint  vias  worse,  fiel- 
dom  drank  without  6ghtin^.  Hence  ()ur  dcgradeil  peasantrj'  were 
fur  ever  engaf;ed  in  liroils  and  miirderi,  it  being  an  inevitable 
ttfiteqiience  that  when  a  man  was  beaten  in  a  drunken  fray, 
Buny  others  would  mingle  in  the  fight ;  nor  did  the  quarrel  always 
ttnainAtv  on  the  spot,  but  was  frequently  perpetuated  in  deadly 
feuda,  u  between  "Shanivestfi"  and  "  llinavest*,"  "Klinns"  and 
"JoyceBj"  "Gows"  and  "  Folecns,"  and  hundrotU,  nay  thousands 
cf  others.  And^  as  quarrels  first  arose  in  the  sltthent,  or  whiskey- 
bouan,  BO,  also,  atill  more  tiangeroufl  connpiracies  were  arranfced  in 
tW**  verf  ttlacea;  and  these,  too,  of\en  artfully  su^^ested  by  the 
jiabltcan*  themaetves  for  the  base  purpose  of  drawing  crowds  of 
tfar»e  infatuated  ifrnorant  wretcliea  to  their  houses.  For  instance, 
daring  the  in»urrei'tion  of  the  Terry-alts  in  the  county  of  Clare, 
in  the  year  \V£\\,  the  ciuantitv  of  whiskey  sold  exceeded  alt  helirf! 
and,  are  not  the  records  of  tfiat  year  applicable  to  those  of  previ- 
«»•  centuries  ?  I  appeal  to  the  historian,  tct  the  traveller,  to  the 
■onalf  of  the  bar,  and  expostulation  of  the  pulpit ;  to  the  confes- 
■iona  nf  multitudes  when  in  the  extremity  ol  mental  anguish  from 
ill*  cnmmiMion  of  crime,  or  trembling  upon  the  verge  of  eternity 
at  the  fool  of  the  gallows,  or  languishing  in  chains,  heart-broken, 
in  our  far  distant  colonics,-  fearleKHly  would  I  appeal  to  all,  and 
auk  whether  tliis  description  is  not  strictly  true?  And,  if  true, 
without  Bome  great  counteracting  event,  what  hope  could  be  en- 
tertained for  the  improvement  and  regeneration  of  Ireland? 

And  yet  al  this  very  period,  when  every  beuevnlent  heart  is  ex- 
panding with  joy  amifUt  the  mighty  change,  there  arc  people, — 
ml  grieved  am  I  to  add  many — who  rui»e  their  hands,  and  turn 
vp  ihctr  eye*,  exclaiming,  "  Ah.  we  «ee  how  it  is  !  we  shall  be  all 
mordertfd  I  We  are  on  the  eve  of  another  rebellion  !  "  And  so  we 
certainly  ve,  or  rather  in  the  thick  of  it ;  but.  thank  Heaven  !  it  is 
a  rcbclfian  against  poverty,  rag^.  and  poison.  All  which  these  peo- 
ple, too  long  accustomed  to  have  everything  their  own  way,  know 
perftrtlif  K'eii  thrmxelvea. 

But  DOW  let  u»  return  to  Father  Mathew.  From  the  1st  January, 
18K8,  thift  excellent  man  has  laboured  with  an  ardour  never  sur. 
pawned.  At  first  his  progress  was  alow,  and  his  constancy  must 
bare  been  sererelv  te»te<t ;  for  be  had  n<it  the  great  bixly  of  the 
CMhulic  priesthood  with  him  'Am  ;  but  noiv  he  has  their  zealous 
o^operaliom  In  fact,  the  circle  was  di^couragingly  small  at  1ir»t ; 
bvt  Las  extended  itaelf  in  a  manner  which,  while  it  gladdens  the 
«i»l  of  the  philanthropist,  cmfounds  all  statistical  calculation,  and 
«ltctnfi««  the  brewer,  the  dititiller,  and  tlie  publican.  It  is  known 
ihit  iMsrly  five  hundred  whiskey-shops  have  been  abandoned  in 
Cork  alone,  and  hence  we  may  judge  of  other  places  ;  antl  also,  that 
rrrrsKN  uunobjui  tuouband  memberi  have  already  uken  the 
pbdice. 

Hating  hail  the  gratiBcation  of  a  personal  intro<luction  to  Father 
Uathrw,  upon  an  occaaion  when  many  thounand  people  eagerlv  pre- 
MOUd  ihcittselTea  to  uke  the  pledge,  I  mifiht  here,  perhaps,  be  in- 
dMeed  lo  treapaaa  too  much  in  describing  the  scene,  as  this  has  bein 


66 


FATHER    MATHEW. 


so  frequently  done  before.  However,  as  some  parts  of  it  may  not 
be  so  generally  known,  1  may  add  that  the  exhortation  when  the 
people  had  tlirown  thetnBelvea  du>vn  u|>on  their  kneen  was  very  ai> 
propriate  and  well  delivered,  depicting  the  miserable  state  of  the 
drunkard's  life,  and  contrasting  it  with  the  comforts  of  peace  and 
security. 

"  I  wish  yon,"  he  said,  "  to  make  a  fair  trial  of  the  change.  Think 
not,  however,  1  have  any  design  to  take  an  undue  advantage  of  this 
great  impulse.  All  I  ask  of  you  is  to  give  to  temperance  » Jairirial; 
Bteadity  to  adhere  to  it  for  a  portion,  at  least,  of  your  lives,  anil  to 
mark  what  happy  changes  it  will  effect,  nut  only  in  your  bodily 
health,  but  your  worldly  comforts.  1  am  not  afraid  of  you  if  you 
will  give  it  such  a  trial ;  and,  alter  tliat.  if  any  one  of  you  should 
regret  his  choice,  or  see  cause  to  retract  the  engagement  he  is  about 
to  make,  let  him  t»end  me  b^ek  his  cartl  and  his  medal,  and  I  will  at 
once  erase  his  name  from  the  register." 

To  all  which  the  kneeling  multitude  cried  out,  "  Wb  will  kskf 
it!" 

"  I  rejoice  to  hear  you  say  so,"  said  Father  Alathew  ;  *'  and  now 
let  each  of  you  repeat  after  me  as  follows."  When,  further  elevat- 
ing his  voice,  he  pronounced  the  words  of  the  pledge,  pausing  as  in- 
dicated (" — ")  for  the  general  response. 

But  how  can  I  describe  the  elfect  of  these  bursts  of  a  thousand 
voices,  or  the  variety  of  emotions  depicted  on  the  faces  below  !  Here 
werc»  indeed,  pictures,  veritahtes  tnbleauj  vivanU,  which  the  curious 
in  physiognomy  might  have  scrutinised  with  an  interest  never,  per- 
haps, more  strongly  experienced.  Men  upon  whose  countenances  I 
saw  the  marks  of  shame  and  M)rrow  ;  women  in  a  kind  of  maudlin 
dreamy  state,  who  threw  up  their  arras,  and  clapped  their  hands 
over  their  heads,  as  if  bewailing  the  last  **  drops  ot  comfort"  they 
had  taken  ;  and  here  and  there  groups  of  the  poorest  peasants  from 
the  far  west,  from  the  recesses  oi'  that  rocky  shore,  whose  frowning 
cliffs  protect  us  from  the  liquid  mountains  of  the  restless  Atlantic  ; 
these  meti,  peculiar  in  dress,  and  of  uncivilised  appearance,  and 
whofte  niatte<l  hair  nearly  concealetl  their  faces — such  figures  lui  these 
could  not  but  form  a  singularly  interesting  portion  of  the  multitude. 
From  my  knowledge  of  these  people,  of  their  wild  glens  and  lonely 
haunts,  1  should  say  that  probably  not  one  of  them  in  ^tly  understood 
B  word  of  Knglish.  and  yet  there  was  a  language  evidently  s)^H-akiiig 
within  them,  as  their  lips  never  ceased  to  move;  and  immediately 
after  the  ceremony  most  of  them  rushed  to  Father  Alaihew  to  touch 
his  person,  or  be  touched  by  him  ;  doubtless  considering  that  touch 
aa  the  perfection  of  virtue  against  future  temptation.  We  now  come 
to  THR  Pleogk. 

Fathek  Matbbw. — "  I  promise" —  (the  multitude  answer,  in 
various  tones,  but  in  one  eager  breath,)-—*'  I  promise  " — *'  that  so 
long  " — "  as  I  continue  " — '*  a  member  " — "  of  the  teetotal  " — "  tem- 
perjmce  society  "  — ''to  abstain"  —  "from  all" — "intoxicating  U* 
quors," — "except  used  medicinally;"  —  "  and  by  advice"— '*  and 
example" — "to  discountenance  the  cause  and  practice  "—"  of  in- 
temperance in  othern." 

The  reverend  gentleman  then  added,  "  Qod  bless  you,  and  enable 
you  to  keep  the  pledge  you  have  taken  1 " 


PATBBB    MATIIEW. 


OT 


Tbb  U  a  fjiint  outline  nnlj  of  the  ceremony  as  I  witnessed  it.  It 
in  obviou*  that  nietlnln  roiilu  not  be  distributed  on  aiich  nn  occasion, 
or  tfaeiWBKB  of  eight,  ten,  thirty,  or  forty  tliousand  people  acctirate- 
1t  rcftatBred.  In  Limerick  the  attempt  was  made  by  fourteen  gen- 
Itfnen  ;  1>ut  they  were  obliged  to  abandon  the  tA«k,  and  a  far  better 
pin  ha^  been  adopted  ;  those  who  have  taken  the  pleilge  hnve  now 
tortnew  the  ennagfineiit  before  their  respective  parish -priests,  who 
«fc  provided  with  the  requit^ite  card;}  and  medald,  on  payment  of  a 
AAnng. 

Here  again  it  has  been  loudly  complained  of  by  those  rif^hteous 
people,  now  all  at  once  appearing  horror-struck  at  tlie  idea  ol'  Irisb- 
mh  becoming  iober,  that  a  shilling  should  be  charged  for  what  only 
oaati  about  four|teuce !  But  when  the  great  expense  of  the  registry 
^^n  which  businets  alone  two  clerks  are  engaged  wholly  at  Father 
Nalbcw's  rxpense  ;  his  journeys,  and  bis  well-known  acts  of 
darit}'  ;  the  niedali  of  pure  silver, — fur  which  he  will  take  no  pay- 
ntokt, — and  which  he  has  given  on  particular  occasions  ;  nay,  one  of 
cold^  of  the  value  of  ten  pounds,  which  he  presented  to  a  Catholic 
hiiliop:  when  these  are  all  taken  into  account,  it  will  surely  be  ob- 
Tioov  to  any  unprejudiced  person  that  not  only  is  there  no  profit 
from  this  source,  but  that  a  handsome  private  income  is  eniirehi  de- 
tmkd  hy  this  excellent  man  to  the  highest  object  ot  bis  ambition  in 
ihia  world — the  regeneration  of  his  countrvmcn. 

The  personal  labour  which  Futher  Matnew  encounters  is  almost 
iaovdible.  When  at  home  in  Cork  hi«  work  commences  at  seven 
ia  div  morning,  and,  with  the  exception  of  short  intervals,  seldom 
taasM  before  twelve  at  night-  During  the  late  inclement  winter  it 
is  well  known  bow  many  cmtire  days  he  whh  exposed  in  the  open 
air,  and  bare-headed  from  morning  till  night,  and  of^en  (as  I  can 
lesiify)  in  the  worst  of  weather  administering  the  pledge,  and  yet 
•e  have  never  heard  that  his  constitution  has  been  at  all  Injured, 
nor  doca  his  appearance  indicate  anything  but  health  and  content- 
Bwat,     A  powerful  argument  this  in  favour  of  temperance  ! 

Ho  wcmder,  then,  under  all  these  circuni^tAnces,  that  his  reputa- 
liuQ  ahould  increase  so  rapidly  ;  for  the  people  soon  began  to  argue 
dwamlvcs  into  ■  lirm  belief  that  the  gooil  fnther  must  have  received 
■rMematnTal  aid,  and  be  gifted  by  more  than  human  power;  and. 
In  propcwtion  as  this  conviction  spread  among  them,  we  may  be  sure 
'  that  Paddy's  ingenuifi/  did  not  diminish  the  impression.  Some  rather 
dnnUr  coincidence's,  too,  did  ^tufilly  occur;  several  people  who 
baa  broken  their  pledges  were  seized  with  sickness  or  madne.ss  — 
lynonyroous  disorders  with  many  drunkards.  Of  these  some  filled 
with  remorse  returned  by  themselves  to  Cork,  while  others  were 
curied  back  by  their  friends,  and,  overwhelmed  with  alarm  and 
flhamc.  were  re-admitted  and  cured,  as  they  expressed  it.  "  forever." 
Tbe  very  medals  were  by  numbers  supposed  to  possess  a  chnrm  in 
badinf .  and  were  believed  to  effect  miracles  on  being  applied  to 

Imagine,  therefore,  the  joumeyings  to  Cork  in  1R39.  It  was 
iIkii,  Imlced,  thut  the  livhig  tide  rolled  onwards;  the  roads  were 
Ihrowcd  willi  pilgrims,  coaches,  carts,  and  cars  and  horses  were 
bcavily  laden  wuh  thetn  ;  anil  even  boat-loads  were  landed  from  all 
parts  of  the  Coast.     But,  how  difTercnt  the  approach  to  the  return ! 


58 


FATHER    MATIIEW. 


Goinf;,  as  much  whisVev  vtntt  drunk  by  all  sn  could  be  pni 
carrieti,  Bometimes  a  ItHlf  more.  *'  Bui  sure,  wasn't  it  tor  tlie  last 
time  !  "  Returning,  not  a  single  drop.  The  steps  of  all  were  resolved, 
and  their  appearance,  without  exception,  (and  I  hiive  met  thousands 
on  the  roads,)  di.splnyed  the  utmi>!tt  prttle  and  sattRtaction  ;  and, 
though  they  freely  admitted  what  they  had  gone  through  in  their 
last  fond  embraces  of  their  "  darlint  dhrop  ;  "  yel,  aitsuming  a  more 
than  solemn  air.  they  would  add,  "  Wor  they  ever  so  hearty,  or  may- 
be bhiind  dhrunk  itsilf,  sure  the  bare  sight  of  his  rivirince  brought 
'em  to  rason,  nil'  down  they  wini  an  ther  two  knees  studdy  an' 
illl£;ant."  ^H 

Considering,  therefore,  the  fruitful  inventions  of  my  dear  country-H 
men,  and  the  number  of  nmrvellous  tales  carried  home  by  these 
pilgrims,  it  is  easy  to  imagine  with  what  avidity  a  narrative  of  their 
adventures  would  be  devoured,  particularly  when  once  more  seated 
by  their  cabin  fires  at  night,  as  "  the  neiglibours,  ould  an'  young, 
male  an'  famale,  'ud  be  comin'  in,  to  hear  all  the  great  news,  an' 
take  a  look  at  the  caard  an'  medal." 

And,  as  Paddy  loves  a  wonder,  and  mugt  have  a  wonder,  and  can- 
not live  tvithimt  a  wonder, — no  wonder  that  tales  sufficient li^  nuMtder. 
Jul  should  soon  be  flying  about  the  country,  particularly  as  the  sup- 
ply of  the  article  in  invariably  equal  to  the  demand,  however  great: 
nn<ither  striking  proof  of  the  inexhaustible  resources  and  fertility 
of  Ireland,  when  aided  by  the  inventive  faculties  of  her  sons.  In 
short,  even  St.  Patrick  himself  seemed  to  tihake  upon  liin  petlesta), 
while,  by  sheer  native  talent,  Father  Mathew  was  invested  with 
acquirements  in  fortune-telling,  and  even  necromancy,  which  he 
himself  is  certainly  the  very  last  man  in  the  world  to  acknowledge 
or  covet. 

Bui  how  can  Father  Rlathew  help  himself.  Even  the  village 
poets  caught  the  in5piriiti<m,  and  celebrated  him  in  endless  verges  of 
rmlUss  metres,  which  the  ballad-iiingers  were  neither  slow  to  profit 
by  or  re-echo  in  nasal  harmony. 

I  have  at  this  moment  several  of  these  magnificent  efTusionn,  and 
have  been  thinking  how  I  could  best  contrive  to  give  my  readers 
some  idea  of  them.  To  transcribe  them  all  would  be  impoAsible,  for 
ihey  would  till  a  number  of  the 'Miscellany.  I  will  give,  how>. 
erer,  a  few  examples. 

*  Dy  the  Lord's  commaml  wall  join  heart  and  li3u<]« 

Let  envy  aud  malice  away  from  ua  flee  ; 
^Ve  '11  join  hoty  timp'rancc  with  father  Mathew, 
And  live  in  contintmint  in  Ehin  Macrbee  1 " 

Or,  what  if  we  should  avail  ourselves  of  the  good  old  orthodox  (how 
I  love  that  word!)  way,  by  which  in  those  good  old  times  (Hown, 
alas!  forever,)  a  capital  judgment  might  be  concludeil  of  a  house 
by  producing  a  few  bricks  taken  promiscuously  from  its  walls?  I 
6atter  myself  this  idea  is  a  splendid  one;  so  <Mtr  rca<lers  may  now 
be  at  va^e,  and  from  their  own  estimate  of  the  value  of  my  collection 
of  temperance  ballads  (increasing,  I  am  hnppy  to  say,)  by  the  fol- 
lowing specimens.  Here  (as  one  might  call  it,  brick  firftt,)  is  a  piece 
uf  the  sublime — a  sort  of  poetical  earthquake: 


FATHEa    MATUEW. 


50 


"CoiJ  btMB  each  member  that  wears  a  ratdal 

i  hope  for  tii«r  "ouU*  sake  lliey  'li  nut  brake  irusl. 
The  SMienU  dajr  wliiii  Si.  Michael  will  lound  the  trumpet, 
Tb«  rocks  will  tfHAiiB,  and  ihc  eartli  will  buk$t." 

Tfce  next  to  be  produced  is  called  *'  The  roouisd  publican." 

"  Witboul  a  coat  be  'J  make  you  go, 
Without  a  breecb^s  to  put  an; 
His  pim  ami  glass  will  be  your  wo 
If  you  doii'l  shut!  ihe  publican." 

Then  cmnes  what  people  of  good  lirceiling  and  delicate  feelings 
would  c»ll  a  wipe  at  the  laudlady.     (Scene,  Limerick.) 

•'  One  PTeoing,  when  passing  up  th«  Irish  town, 
A  publican's  wife  I  heard  grievia*  alone, 
In  mounifu)  accents  cryine;  'ocn  uomcI  " 
I  'm  pininz  in  anc^lsh  this  fortnight. 
Sure  now  for  whiskey  we  're  pettiriB  no  call  ; 
There  is  no  u^e  in  bou!u-kp«?ping  M  all ; 
For  the  world  is  wlic-ding  like  ;l  ball ! 
My  husband  in  b^hion  could  dress  like  a  stjuire, 
With  a  walch  in  his  Tub,  and  his  shins  by  the  Hre, 
A  pipe  in  his — gob,  without  piDshoD  or  htre 

Is  SUrOE  MAt  A   REE,  NERU  CA,  OIUVVZR  1  * 

The  line  of  the  Hection  *t  was  easy  for  ma 
To  sii  to  a  breakfast,  bread,  butter,  and  lea. 
To  eat  a  (ireah  eng  with  me  cup  on  me  kutc, 
Tiokling  about  on  me  saucer/  &cc. 

i  transcribe  the  whole  of  this  most  beautiful  ballad  were  it 

KflSecting,  and  rendered  more  pathetic,  too,  by  its  innoctnt 

for  she  actually  concludes  thus, — as  the  ])oet  avers  ;  who 

en  evidently  Itnlening  to  her  moans — musical  and  inelanclioly, 

I  doubt,  and  tender  as  those  of  a  dying  swan  : — 

'  She  iwofe  a  nic  oatb  that  she  'd  rather  be  dead, 
llian  ealinx  the  *  lumpers,*  insted  of  good  bread  ; 
Uer  itonacti  is  weak,  and  a  imin  in  her  heuil, — 
For  boQgar  is  a  killing  disorder  1" 

We  must  next  prepare  for  a  burst  of  the  tremendous  in  a  baHad 
L.(lllcd  tbc  '*  Drunkard's  Reformatiuiu" 

i*  In  hell  ihe  devil  now  does  hnrk 
Ai  this  holy  priest,  who  dwells  in  Cork  ; 
He  would  wound  his  soul  wid  his  5ry  fork. 
But  he  cannot  hurt  oar  cuamima?!  1' 

.  Here  it  another  mcwt  sublime  and  ingenious  balla<l,  the  descrip- 
tSaoi  ririd,  and  sentiments  tender,  —  "  KjinKWBLi,  to  dhitkknkcb/' 
—(reminding  one  also  that  it  is  time  to  bid  farewell  to  one's  ex- 
tncU} 

'*  Farrwell  lo  my  rs^  t  for  at  one  tine  my  coal, 

And  wasteront  an*  hrichis  no  huttont  had  got ; 

I  dnst  on  a  monitn'  wiili  needle  an'  thred, 

And  lul  ihiin  of  with  a  lissom  when  ready  for  bcil. 

|':trcu«ll  to  )oti,»hivkty,  i  hid  jou  good-oye  ; 

I  'II  continue  I'l  icmp'n*nce  till  Uie  day  that  i  die  !  " 

*  Merry  and  MciftI  ai  a  king. 


eo 


FATHKH    MATHBW. 


But,  no,  no !  impouihle  to  leave  out  my  charming  IViend,  "  PAT 
80BBR,"  the  pride  of  the  Limerick  Press,  and  the  glory  of  the  Penny 
Temperance  Magazine,  No.  12.  We  must  have  a  little  bit  of  Aim, 
at  least,  if  we  cannot  have  him  "  bolus  bolus  "  (as  they  say).  He  is 
too  choice  a  feUow  to  pass  by. 

"  My  iiatne  h  Pat  SobeR)  a  lempenite  man, 
A  great  loper  once,  refumiM  I  am  ; 
For  the  temperance  cause  I  give  in  my  note 
Tliat  no  ardeoi  spiriu  should  go  down  my  throat. 
Now  a  sweet  cup  of  tea.  and  a  good  lunch  of  toast. 
It  fiur  better,  I  nay,  than  this  U|jly  grim  ghosL 
lie's  shockingly  ghasllVt  and  ugly  to  see ; 
1^  's  change  him,  my  friends,  for  a  bowl  of  coflee  ; 
And,  if  in  your  stomach  be 's  likely  to  kick, 
Knock  him  down  in  the  sconce  with  a  quartern  brick  ; 
Should  lie  not  be  kilt — so  strong  his  old  pete  i*, — 
Why^  bit  him  sgam  with  some  pork  and  pit&ties. 
They  may  laugh  if  they  please — oca  a  cra  macbhce  stio — 
For  we  know  who  has  got  the  &t  side  ofa  pic. 
Let  the  drunkard  come  look  at  our  beef  in  its  teens, 
And  a  nice  pig's  proBle,  garnished  round  wiih  young  greens; 
Some  aj>ple  pilniii-a  armn^Ecd  on  a  pUte; 
Two  fill  liUle  chickens  quite  cosy  and  oale  ; 
And  at  Chrislmas  a  gooae.  or  a  (*t  little  duck, 
While  a  temperate  oeiglibour  walkn  in  for  poi-luck. 
We  make  fools  of  gooseberries,  scalded  by  rule; 
He  that  'b  scalded  with  whiskey  is  a  great  whiskey  fool,"  8cc. 

Havinfi^  been  lately  on  a  visit  to  my  worthy  and  excellent  old 
friend,  Mr.  Terence  Gotfy,  1  was  much  gratified  to  find  his  health 
greatly  improved ;  for,  though  he  has  not  become  a  "  teetotaller," 
yet  is  he  ao  deeply  impressed  with  the  importance  of  aiding  the 
great  change  going  on,  that  he  has  very  properly  resolved  to  allow 
no  more  whiskey-drinking  in  his  house:  and  contents  himself,  like 
a  sensible  man  as  he  is,  with  a  few  glasses  of  fine  old  J\Iadeira ;  and 
the  change,  to  say  nothing  of  the  selection,  being  very  much  in  ac- 
cordance with  my  own  taste,  we  got  on  remarkably  well  tt^elher. 

We  had  nearly  arranged  the  entire  affairs  of  tnc  nation  ;  given 
our  hearty  approval  to  the  happy  marriage  of  our  beloved  Queen  ; 
decided  that  the  Kmpcror  of  Kussia  was  inclined  to  be  trouble* 
some  ;  Alahomed  All  Pacha  plucky  and  obstinate ;  Louis  Philippe 
by  no  means  the  first  man  whose  chambers  did  not  exactly  accomm<v 
date  him  aa  he  rvixhed ;  rejoiced  over  penny  letters;  puKeled  our- 
selves vith  poor-laws  and  corporation  acts,  and  nearly  fell  asleep 
over  the  opium  question;  when,  sutldenly,  those  well-rememberea 
frtrains  fell  upon  my  ears,  denoting,  beyond  all  doubt,  that  my 
friend,  Corney  0'Henne»»$y  (the  glory  of  pipers)  was  not  far  off. 

"Thank  you,  my  friend,"  I  said.  "Good-b'ye  to  politics  and 
opium  now  ;  for  1  suspect  we  have  something  belter  in  nand." 

"  Indeed  I  hope  so/*  replied  Mr.  Coffy ;  "  and,  to  confess  the 
truth,  this  was  the  signal  arranged  between  myself  and  Comey. 
He  and  three  or  four  more  of  your  old  country  crom'es  have  beea 
dining  in  my  kitchen,  and  now  I  know  that  everything  is  in  readi- 
ness  for  us.  The  women  have  (as  they  call  it)  settled  the  kitchen; 
the  hearth  is  swept ;  and  wc  shall  find  a  couple  of  old  ea^y  chairs, 
one  at  eacli  side  uf  the  fire.     We  &hall  have  tome  aiuusement,  I 


FATHER    MATUEW. 


61 


I ;  but  I  warn  you  that  if,  accorilinf?  to  your  usual  propensities, 
you  are  looking  For  stories,  tliat  you  will  be  dut  in  your  culculation. 
as  tbcie  pH.iple  can  talk  of  notliing  now  but  Father  Maihew  !  " 

••fto  much  the  better,"  1  repliea,  and  away  we  went. 

We  had  not,  in  fact,  very  far  to  go ;  but  it  wan  worth  a  longer 
vilk  tn  lfK>k  at  such  a  kitchen  as  Mr.  Coffy's ;  so  clean,  so  well-ar> 
ringed,  mad  bo  amply  garnished  with  hams,  bacon^  and  bright  pew- 
ter pUleu  The  old  servants,  and  voung  ones  too,  so  respectable; 
the  gueUs  looking  so  happy,  and  all  doting  upon  the  dear  old  mas- 
ttr  (cat!  and  dogs  included) 

Advanced  as  the  afternoon  wan.  we  made  our  enlr^e  to  the  tune  of 
"  Patrick *a  day  in  the  morning,"  played  in  tiia  best  style  by  Corney, 
lA  Manding  to  receire  us,  and  then  came  so  many  greetings  and 
Iwvft!  Ah!  how  much  do  those  great  folks  lose  who  think  the 
hunble  beneath  their  notice !  There  is  after  all  no  difference  in 
the  conformation  of  the  human  heart  ;  the  same  affections  are  com- 
noa  to  all ;  and  there  often  dwells  a  nobility  beneath  the  frieze 
wfaieh  might  in  vain  be  sought  for  under  the  most  costly  gar- 
■enu! 

Coroey  was  turpassing  himself;  but  fair  play  is  a  jewel ;  he  con- 
lURmtely  Mopped  to  let  others  indulge  a  httle  kindly  display. 
BaA  as  — 

'•Your  honour's  kindly  welcome." — "Ah,  thin,  we're  glad  to 
m  your  honor  among  us/  —  "  Long  life  to  your  honor."  —  "  Never 
Mm  yer  honor  look  so  fre^h  !  "  and  so  on.     Greetings  and  inquiries 

(InnBRkerable.  At  length,  however,  preliminaries  being  adjusted  to 
gtnrrftl  satisfaction,  and  the  6re  nnd  the  easy  chairs  looking  ex- 
tVfncly  inviting,  we  took  our  seats,  desiring  all  the  rest  to  do  the 

•  Well,  Comey,"  I  said,"  now  tell  me  how  you  are  in  earnest,  my 
1  fellow.  How  are  the  times  with  you  ?  Mr.  Coffy  tells  me  you 
itMcn  to  Cork.     1  trust  you  have  seen  no  cauae  to  regret  your 

In  troth,  no,  your  honor,  I  never  was  better  in  my  life,  thank 
I !  an'  1  would  not  give  up  my  medal  and  card  at  this  minute  for 
i  bnadred  pounds  !  To  be  sure,  ycr  honor,  the  new  *  thrade '  may 
:  be  quHe  ao  lively  to  some  people ;  but,  what  thin  ?  Everything 
gnta  an  more  steajy,  as  one  may  say.  The  gmxl  bread,  an'  the 
mrai  tay  an*  coffee,  keej>fl  all  shnug  an'  comfortable ;  an'  sure  the 
MlamM*  Cdsts  nothing  now  towards  what  they  did,  and  they  burst- 
iaffOllder  the  elbow  wid'  the  shprins  of  Ihr  whixkrif  !  " 

This  was  an  exordium, — a  preliminary  flourish, — during  which  I 
htd  been  looking  round,  anu  was  hiippy  to  perceive  one  of  tlie 
btadm  had  been  coarcd  a  little  nearer  to  the  fire,  and  that  it  wns 
■ecapied  by  6ve  knowing  fellows  in  their  way, — Tom  Donovan,  the 
^mghmaii ;  Billy  Hayes,  the  herdsman ;  Paddy  Kennedy,  and 
FiTi  Curtin,  and  his  brother  Alichucl,  all  neighbours,  and  teeto- 
taller*, my  old  friend  showing  a  decided  partiality  to  the  disciples  of 
PallMr  >Mthew,  or,  as  his  name  is  more  generally  pronounced  by 
thne  people,  Matciirw.  At  this  period,  indeed,  we  might  have 
been  laslly  called  *'  The  Wide-awake  Club,"  as  all  sat  open-mouthed 
fftjoymi;  Cornry'a  preparations  to  surprise  me,  who  they  well 
kxmw  would  not  stick  at  trifles;  and  trulv  I  began  to  think  some  of 
Umim  CoUUion*  were  not  tkr  distant,  which  Like  Hint  and  steel,  or  lliu 


_  ^Kmimee  «  fUsh  of  W^xX.  from 

X  to  myself,  this  wilt  do  !     Nu 

iad  tli«se   remarlis    thiiii    three 

__        of  tempemnce.     They  were  all 

taatf  indace  them  to  return  tu  the 

it "  I  nid.     "  Pray,  can  any  of  3'ou 
ift  poor  unfortunate  wretch,  Paddy 


jHaait "  I  nid.     "  Pray,  can 
Mik  t^Mft  poor  unfortunate  wr 


r.  1  brieve  I  can>"  said  Tom  Donovan ; 

ten  years,  and  the  devil  a  bi>rger 

1  p'rhape  Paddy  the  blackguard  of 

.  aa^  r«r  binoor,  but  couldn't  get  through  Li- 

-.  -^  kesD  half  vay  back,  an'  got  a  few  more 

_-H'*~*"  and  then  he  made  hU  road  good  to 

. .   HI «  ;  an*  before  he  wint,  yer  honour  knowti 

..«  ;'uc  a  glass  of  whiskey,  an'  that  he  would. 

..rv  that  other  fellow's  raal  name  woa  Paddy 

J  Litnekira1way«^  because  he  was  sleeping 

tfvith,  or  may  be  up  the  eutlirics,  or  in  the 

•J  hrtustjicks,  but  never  in  a  bed, — by  rason 

>«ovlie  dhrank  it  all  out  at  wanst,  an'  whm 

..^  -^-m,  .wverhadapennypieceforthe  dhry  lodgin*. 

,  ^^  «wrUl  it  waSj  meseltdoes  not  know,  but  all 

lA  4jll  Ao'  by  one  manes  or  other,  an'  nobody 

-^  ttottggtin'  it  was,  I  'm  sure,  he  got  to  Cork, 

.  »-  c  ircd  by  Father  Watchcw,  an' so  towards 

■•  '.  »oort  of  a  man  entirely.     An'  on  his 

I  lady  ill  H  Hue  jiLLinting  car,  who  treeing 

'  t]ie  hunger,  (;avc  him  a,  BhilJin'  or  two 

•a:  Udy  saw  l^addy's  medul,  and  sie  she  to 

.hrifd  the  tiuipmnce  a  month  ur  two,'  aii 

,    >A    '  Lt*  more  the  colour  of  yonr  medal/  sis 

1      -^hf  pointing  wid  her  finger  to  the  comb 

■ — an'  she  laughing  when  she  driv  on; 

IS  red  enough.     So  by  an*  by  Paddy 

,1  by  a  jolly  young  wjddy,  an'  marches 

-.ive  all  here ! '  an'  there  !>tood  tlie  laii'- 

1IS  on  her,  if  you  plase,  on'  full  of  her 

.     u.-   '  ■ .   '  Jlay  I  thrubble  yoiu  nia'om.  for  a 

I «  milk  ? '  sis  he ;  an'  wid  tlut  he  lays  down  a 

^-^     '  Ah,  now,  is  it  milk  by  itself  for  such 

■  v"*rry  on  the  middle  of  your  face  ? '  sis  she. 

.  u,  an'  let  me  put  a  naggin  of  the  raal  ould 

i!UBth,'  siz  she  ;  '  for  it 's  beginning  to  turn 

■  I  sisM  sharge  for  it  even,'  siz  she. — '  So,  'deed, 

X  cwit  do  that  same/  siz  he ;  '  for  I  've  been 

.1  he.  '  an'  be  tlie  same  token,  here's  my 

Me  (lay  is  getting  cowld,  if  you  'U  give  it  ■ 

-    !v  t  there,  I  '11  be  for  ever  obU'Cg'd  to  ye, 

, you  shall  have  yer  own  way,  an*  wel* 

^M  ••■>.  •*•  »^  •  *  ***  *''  down  an*  take  on  air  of  the 

\^  .«MM«bt<W^t>*^^^^*'  '^'  ^^^'     ^^  ^*^  y"^  '^>  ^'''*  ^''^ 
. .  s     hA  hicBsilf  down,  an'  out  wid  his  sliurt  pipe,  an* 


FATHER    MATHEW. 


rtddcn'd  U  wii]  a  oral,  an'  was  enjovtng  bimsilf  quite  niy  an'  pleasant, 
when  all  av  a  »uddint,  what  bhuuirl  dhrivi*  up  piut  ilu*  dure  but  a 
ouacii  Uttt  waa  fuU  of  passhin^ers  in  an'  out,  an'  Paddy  should  get 
up  to  we  ilid  he  know  anylKnly  an  it;  an'  so  whin  the  landlady  saw 
faia  outaide  the  dure  staring  afther  the  coach,  what  shbuld  come 
into  hcT  head,  but  the  divil's  own  notion  to  interfare  wJd  Pulher 
Maichew's  work  I  *  I  'U  snoil  his  cpoort  for  thta  wanst,'  aiz  she. '  any 
bow,'  lU  she ;  an'  up  wicl  henilf,  an'  popp'd  a  nagji^ii  of  whishkey 
ioto  Patkiv's  milk,  an'  poured  it  into  a  jug,  and  aot  it  on  the  windy 
to  cool,  by  an'  by,  whin  Paddy  wan  done  looking  ailher  the  coach, 
an'  it  oat  of  sight,  he  comes  in  back  for  his  milk,  an  bein'a-most  kilt 
wid  de  dntlh,  swailyed  it  all  down  in  no  time  —  an'  if  he  dii),  bad 
Ivcit  tu  it,  up  comcft  the  ould  Uit^hte  an'  Ahmell  ov  de  wfiishkey  I 
*Och.  murdher !  niurdher  1  murdher!'  kiz  Paddy,  'I'm  ruined 
■on  ! '  MS  he,  '  here  's  ructions  of  whishkey,'  siz  he,  '  coming  up  de 
Okmi  of  Die! '  six  he.  An' the  Hnt-  f^ny  hindlatly  began  to  laugh  till 
tbe  ribands  shuk  an  her  cap.  an'  siz  she,  *  What  *s  the  matter  wid 
J9U,  my  huneit  friend  ?  '  six  she.  —  *  No  frind  av  mine  you  are,  ye 
ikaavingrat  woman  of  the  world  ! '  sJz  Pa<ldy.  '  Is  it  the  ]>Hce  of  my 
fMor  nnful  sowl  yer  begrudging  me  ?  '  siz  he.  '  An'  is  it  this  the 
way  yer  thinkin'  tu  bate  Father  Matchew  out  an  out  ?  '  siz  he.  An' 
wid  that  lie  golher  himself  for  another  shtart.  an'  bowlted  clane  out 
Mt  the  dure,  on'  away  wid  hiiu  back  ugen  tu  Cork  ah  fast  as  he  could 

Ell,  an'  never  stopped  till  he  kern  to  Kather  Alatchew's  house,  an' 
I  rivirence  waiting  for  him  outside !  *  Come  in,  my  )>oor  fellow/ 
n  ha,  'an*  take  tiie  plidge  ageti  by  all  manes,'  »iz  he.  'I  don't 
Uhbc  you  the  Lute,'  siz  he;  but  take  care  of  thim  snort  uf  women 
lodicr  time,'  siz  he.  '  An'  now,*  siz  he,  '  Paddy,  yer  twice  aa 
ilitmag  fur  a  tee-totaller  as  you  was  before,  an'  you  may  gu  home 
wid  my  blewing.  An'  whisper  ! '  siz  he  ;  'mind  ray  ordhers  now,' 
sis  b».  '  Call  in  to  that  shebeen  house  as  quick  as  you  con,  an'  see 
wluH '•  become  of  the  gay  widdy,'  &iz  he,  'an'  whether  she'll  pro- 
poae  you  another  naggin,'  siz  he.  So  Paddy  away  wiil  himself  to 
boe  toe  raail  agen.  an'  whin  he  kern  to  the  widdy '»  house,  he  'd  like 
to  br  smudder'd  wid  ih'  Ii»]>e8  of  )>eoplc  in  the  road,  roaring  on'  cry. 
iag ;  but  av  cuorse  he  did  aa  he  'd  bin  bid,  an'  squeesh'd  liimself  into 
iW  boasc,  an'  there  was  the  gay  widdy  striichvil  dead  on  a  tabU\  an* 
tW neighbours  all  Kaltcing  her.     The  Lord  Have  us!" 

••  Tare-an-ou liters ! " — *  A  wough,  wough  !  " — •'  Well,  well,  well ! " 
— *•  Tfce  hard  be  praised  !  "  Such ,  and  many  more,  were  the  general 
cxdaautions  re-echoed  by  the  females,  who,  tliough  pretending  at 
tfaae*  to  be  very  bu^y,  never  lost  a  syllable. 

Mr.Coki'Y.  "  (rod  bless  me,  Tom  Donovan,  but  tliat  's  a  terrible 
iltn  to  be  true." 

CtaMOVAN.  "  Devil  a  word  of  a  lie  in  it,  air.  That 's  juist  aa  the 
bov't  own  friends  tuuld  me." 

lIft.O>rKv.  "  But  did  any  of  ye  hear  what  became  of  the  five 
■Ukr*  fnmi  O'Brien's  Bridge?  Were  ifou  not  living  there  at  the 
daw,  Pad4)v  Kennedy  ?  " 

pASDV  KuNNEOY.  "  Sure  I  was,  sir,  an'  knew  them  all  as  one  as 
ny  own  brother*.  Not  to  say  them  boys  woa  so  bad  ;  but  you  itee, 
■r,  whin  the  masther  wanted  ttie  raaal  fur  market,  may  be  they  'd 
he  away  illirinking.  or  the  shtonea  'udn't  l>e  drcHt  fair,  or  somethin' 
ojutraary.     *  So,'  kayt  he,  *  boys,  I  'm  thinkin'/  bcs  he,  *  it  'ud  be  well 


e,'  «s  he.     An'  ihcy 

itiD  they  considhered 

,  and  had  no  money  for 

t '»  yer  only  objiction, 

he, '  an'  you  shall  go  on  a 

MS  he;  'an'  don't  ye  think 

_  tk>  no  time,'  ses  he, '  an'  back 

^■^atfhl  take  the  plitlge  himstir.'  ses 

^MMto  hrst  thing  ever  h.HmM>nni  him  ?  ' 

~7caBT.  an'  agreed  wiu  him  for  the 

put  plinty  huy  and  shtraw  for  all 

<t^m  fLmaant,    But  a'deed,  to  tell  no- 

WMK  journey  tliey  had,  an'  a  power 

•«  Dttony  the  worst  av  'em  all;    for 

jK^bcnw  drunk  together,  on'  the  horse 

•.^p  «iC  knowin'  wot  they  goin'  to  Cork  or 

^^na.  an'  Ma&nhaniin',  and  cursin',  and 

.^m  •  |Hn*s  beaa  for  Father  Matchew^  nn' 

.Afi^v^'    The  Lord  »ave  us.  amin  I     '  An' 

•  mm  «iles  of  Cork,  Denny  stopped  all  at 

tlQE^  tfan't  be  making  JucUes  av  yerdlvrs, 

.^  ^iHMC  for  the  day,  anyhow  ! '     But  the 

«  ttmJd  him  to  hould  his  tongue,  an'  drive 

.^  *  iht  dinl's  Hkivver  to  the  bit  av  'em 

^^  «utv  ticlay.'     An'  thin  he  swore  an'  curncd 

•^Jki.  ITvAer  Matchew  all  the  nmnes  he  coukl 

mm^ikm  fiKC.  an'  thin  blue,  an'  thin  black, — an' 

«.  ^fmirntd*-) — an'  then  they  thought  he  'd  die. 

«i«  «lMMg  all  about  the  road,  an'  he  jumpin*, 

^    ^<bbt^  to  hits,  —  an'  he  alive,  yer  honour, 

••%  miUi  hiack  kecros:ues,  an'  ugly  vermin  of 

k»  iwin*  an' bawlin' ji&t  like  a  madman. 

..    -    v*!**  wrll  enough  what  was  the  only  bc«t 

.    ^  k«  tak  hi^  haste  out  of  the  car',  an'  whipped 

^  ^t»«aM  for  Cork  for  the  bare  life.     Ad'  whin 

^^  v^  KM^ar  Alatchew  sure  enough  at  hii  dure 

^llMkJhMi,  Denny  Burke? ' — '  It  is,  plaM  yer 

,  4|S  jrou  the  mad  dhriver?     Come  down  nff 

It,—'  O,  plase  yer  rivirence's  glory,  lure 

.^^  mm^'m*  Denny.     '  1  'm  swarmin'  wid  bhick 

jb"  MHirts.'  »e&  he,  '  an'  they  bitin'  an'  tearin' 

n;^^  thick  tliey  are  wid  me,'  sen  he.—*  Come 

,mI  tvu^'  Ma  leather  Matchcw.     '  Now  come 

^«.  \  Wk  at  you,'  ses  he.     So  in  went  Denny, 

vfc  W^Al  an'  prayiu'  his  rivirince  'ud  forgive  his 

«Aitewk  Whind  his  back.     '  Hould  yerself  still  a 

^^y^av.  '  lUl  I  see  'II  ye  be  a  thrue  repintant,' 

^^  ^ijl^'  w*  he ;  '  may  be  you  *ve  suffered  enough 

***  *l  \  Am***'  coveretl  with  now,  ses  he.     ■  Oo out> 

.V«*)t  ^  ^^  wind.'  ses  he.     So  Denny  did  as  he 

^\l^  akmMt  was  bhlinded  wid  the  du&ht,  by 

.yvmtn  was  all  turned  into  black  powdtfier! 

\v>«  couie  in  agon,'  ses  Father  Alatchew,  >  an' 

.  ,  ^  lif  did*  an'  received  hia  companions  aound^ 


FATHER   MATUKW. 


65 


«n'  whole,  an*  hearty ;  an'  not  wan  o'  them  could  bear  si/^ht  or  ahmell 

•f  whiskey  since.     An'  everif  heerogue  tens  a  dti:U  for  certain  !" 

Analber  general  exclamation  as  before,  nnd  a  signi6cant  exchange 

^bf  n«l«  between  Mr.  CofTy  and  myself.     The  ball  was  fairly  up  ! 

^f   "  In  troth,  then,  ycr  honor,  an'  that 's  all  a  thrue  story,'  said  Jemmy 

Htvtin  ;  '  for  1  beerd  tell  a'most  the  whole  av  it  before.     An'  fnix  it 's 

^voneChin*  like  what  happened  to  ii  third  cousin  of  ray  own  aunt  Doo- 

hui|[hly'>  by  her  mother's  side,  an*  she  a  dacent  'esponsible  woman 

^^^ogh,  only  she'd  take  a  sup  now  an'  acen.  till  she  wint  to  Cork. 

^■Celt,  the  wii«  jist   Roin'  to  takt!  the  plidge,  whin   she  all  at  wanst 

^■hoaght  it  *ud  be  the  x^ief  of  the  world  to  give  up  the  dhrop  out  an' 

Hw>     So  ahe  made  bouhl  to  ask  Father  Matchew,  might  she  jist  have 

Ibe  taste  of  two  shmall  glasses  av  sperrcts  in  the  coorse  avthe  twinty- 

fottf  houn,  an"  then  she  'ud  take  any  plidge  or  oath  his  rivircnce  pro- 

pdged,  not  to  dhrink  more  ^     Father  Matchew,  who  is  a  raal  gentlc- 

■MD.  and  mighty  civil  to  everybody,  an'  av  coorse  nut  less  no  to  the 

Iil*tiff,  g«v'  her  the  liberty,  an'  welcome,  if  shejound  no  further  ttbjec' 

liamM  kerriif.     An'  so  nff  she  wint  wid  hersilf,  mighty  quick  an'  aisy 

f|D  the  publichouse,  an'  callcil  fur  a  (^lass,  an'  aygar  uiioiigh  she  was 
wid  it  up  to  her  mouth,  all  in  a  hurry,  like  a  cat  takin'  a  Icp  a'top  av 
•  ■KHise.  But  if  she  was,  be  me  8owkin«  I  no  mouth  uv  hers  could 
llie  find  cunvantent  for  the  whiskey! — for  ye  see,  yer  honor,  it  was 
•U  (fcawn  away,  an'  twivhted  a'mojtt  close  to  her  ears!  an'  bad  tuck 
tetfcedhrop  she  could  pitch  into  it,  wid  all  the  thries  tthe  nietl.  So  she 
beewi  to  crass  an'-  bless  hcrsilf,  an'  she  cryin'  like  mad,  nti'  ran  back 
tu  Father  llatcbew.  '  Ah  ! '  »es  he,  '  I  thought  you  'd  5nil  somethin' 
»Tonj[abuut  ukin'  two  glasses/ «es  he,  'afiheryou  bein' here,' ses  he. 

kAa'  M>  he  put  his  hand  to  her  head,  an'  soon  sthraitcned  her  mouth 
for  her.  *  Now,'  ses  he,  *  will  you  go  down  on  yer  kneea,  an*  take 
tbc  pliilge  out  an'  out?  '  ses  he,  '  like  a  dacent  woman,'  ses  he.  An' 
what  d'  yc  think  she  did,  the  crathur  I  but  wanted  to  bargln  for  tran 
gUas,  insted  of  the  two  I  An'  so  Father  iVlatchew  sent  his  own  boy 
oat  Ibr  a  half  naggin,  an'  poure<l  it  out  into  a  beautiful  clane  ^lass 
wid  hi*  own  hanaa,  an'  she  tuk  it  quite  smart  an'  twuUt.  Hut  what 
'ttd  yr  think  ?  Why,  thin,  by  this  binch  I  'm  eittin'  on,  the  moment 
ih*  Uiiied  to  drink  it,  the  dickins  a  sup  of  whishkey  wan  in  the 
i  ^H*  "t  all,  but,  insteil  of  the  sperrets,  it  was  full  av  red  tnaggils  f 
An*  aftber  that  she  tuk  the  plidge  for  good  an'  all,  an'  can't  bear  the 
m^Ik  of  a  Urge  or  shinall  glass  smcc  !  " 

"  Wonderful !  —  wonderful !  — most  wonderful !  "  I  exclaimed, 
Mttidit  a  aimilar  chorus  from  the  rest,  and  a  most  significant  wink  of 
dw  eye  from  Mr.  CofTy. 

Now  Corney  O  Heiinessy  was  not  the  man  to  sit  "mule  and  in- 
^orioua"  by,  while  such  stories  were  going  ;  his  head  had  been  evi- 
4taily  at  work,  and  his  tongue  aching  again  to  maintain  his  proper 
teinctioa. 

*•  Ah,  y«*  honor,"  said  he.  "  what  pains  and  thrubble  some  av  our 
Mior  boys  used  to  give  themselves  to  get  ut  the  whishkey,— 'like 
lliek  Hourignn,  that  yer  honor  may  remimber." 

**  Ay,  indeed,  1  've  lieard  of  that  fellow's  pranks,"  I  replied.  *'  Can 
hr  fttilJ  be  alive  t     1  thought  he  hjul  drunk  himself  to  death." 

CoMNiiY.  '•  An'  BO  be  did  a'most,  yer  honor  ;  but  he  'a  safe  hon>* 
Did  jf*  honor  ever  hear  how  he  gut  the  whishkcy  at  Spancil  Hill 
ftirf-r 

TOU  Vlll.  9 


«6 


FATHER    MATHEW. 


"  0, 1  'vc  not  heard  that  story.     Pray  tell  it  to  me,  Comey." 

CoHNiiY.  "  Well,  yer  honor,  Mick  was  called  '  liarriU'ttft,'  becaus 
he  made  a  barrel  of  himsitf  in  regard  to  the  dhrink  ;  an'  on  a  fair-i 
day  at  Spancil  Hill,  Mick  coaxed  his  brother  to  let  him  go  with  htm. 
He  hadn't  a  copper  in  his  pocket,  to  be  stire,  but  he  'd  '  run  chance^' 
any  how ;  so  he  wandered  about  scratching  his  head  till  he  got  a 
s\asA  of  whiskey  from  a  frind,  that  made  his  throat  ache  for  morp. 
So  what  did  he  Jo,  but  goes*  to  his  brother  and  begged  the  loan  of 
the  fine  new  iriexe  riding-coat  he  bad,  which  he  knew  well  enough 
would  hide  hia  own  ragged  coatee.  His  own  hat  beiii' purty  dacent, 
and  his  shoes  an'  stockings  ;  the  next  thing  was  to  borry  a  small  book, 
and  pin,  an'  ink-bottle  from  a  kind-hearted  landlady,  and  then  in  he 
wiriil  into  the  fair,  luokin'  mighty  knowin'  an'  clever,  like  a  jobber, 
an'  so  glnp  in  into  the  thick  of  the  fanners  an*  their  pigs.  '  God  save 
ye,  gintlemcn,'  sea  Mick  ;  '  did  yc  sell  ?  *  ses  he- — *  Al  usha  !  no  *«deed, 
we  did  not,"  sea  one.  *  I  *m  coniin'  here  this  forty  year  wid  my  pige, 
an  I  never  seen  tlie  like  of  this  of  a  dull  fair.  Tfierc  "snothin'  doing, 
good  or  bad,  in  it,'  ses  he ;  an'  all  aed,  '  that 's  thrne.*— '  Well,  now,' 
8f8  Mick,  *  I'm  a  kimmisbner  of  pigs  from  Limerick,  jist  afT  llie 
coach,*  ses  he,  '  an'  must  tloa  great  deal  of  business  for  the  conthrac- 
tburs  in  a  little  time,'  ses  he  ;  '  so  I  '11  jist  give  you  a  thriid,'  se^  he. 
'  And  what  '11  you  take  for  tliat  one  > '  ses  he.  —'Two  pounds  ten 
shillings,'  ses  the  man.  Mick  knuckled  the  pig  mighty  clever  an* 
knowin.  '  Ah,  that 's  too  much  ;  but  it  'b  gettin'  late — 1  '11  be  tfven 
wid  you  at  a  word." — 'How  much?'  —  'Two  pounds  iive  shitHngs.' 
^'  Well,  I  'II  be  long  sorry  to  stand  huckstlienn'  wid  the  likes  o'  you, 
so  have  her.'  Mick  niurked  the  pig,  an'  out  with  his  book  and  pen. 
'  What 's  yer  name  f  ' — '  Pa<ldv  Gorman.'  '  Enthereil  white  pig,  red 
X  ,  Paddy  Gorman,  two  pounds  five  shillings.'  *  Come,  come,  now. 
yer  sowl,'  says  Mick,  '  let  *s  come  into  this  tint.  Who  ever  h'ard  of 
a  dhry  banrgin  }  Here,  landlady,  get  this  gintleman  an'  me  a  half 
pint  of  the  right  stuff.'  Mick  put  his  hand  in  hi;*  pocket,  as  if  to 
my.  *  O  no,  by  no  m.mes,'  says  Mr.  Gorman  ;  '  I  '11  pay.'  —  '  Well, 
have  it  so,'  says  Mick  ;  *  but  take  the  sixpence  out  of  the  money 
when  I  'm  paying  you  ;  an'  mind,  Mr.  Gorman,  be  at  this  very  tint 
in  two  hours,  an'  I  '11  pay  all  at  wanst,'  ses  he,  *  for  I  am  very  exact,' 
ses  he.  So  Mick  went  away  agin,  an'  the  man  praiKiiig  him  up  to 
the  skies  as  a  mighty  daccnt  honorable  kimmishner ;  and  Alick 
having  struck  uut  his  plans  so  well,  wint  on  till  he  bought  eleven 
more  pig«,  wetting  every  bargin,  till  the  two  hours  wor  up,  an'  the 
poor  farmers  kem  for  ther  money,  whin  there  they  found  Air.  Hou- 
rigan  stretched  on  the  broad  of  his  back  on  the  flure,  an'  he  bhtiiid 
dJirunk,  without  motion-  An'  so  whin  night  kem  on,  what  could 
they  do,  the  crathurs,  but  lose  their  sixpence  a-piece,  an' dhrive  their 
pigs  back  home  agen !  " 

"  Oh !  that's  the  very  man,"  I  said.  *■  And  has  he  really  been  to 
Father  Msthew  ?  " 

"Yes,  indeed,  your  honour,  he  wint:  for  his  frinds  persuaded 
him  to  it,  an*  agreetl  he  should  drink  all  the  ways  to  Cork,  if  he  'd 
go,  an'  that 's  what  tuk  him,  yer  honor.  But  if  it  did,  he  wint  back 
o'  the  pledge,  and  mad  he  grew,  .-md  got  a  turr'ble  twisht  av  his  head, 
an'  he  bei^intiiu'  to  ntc  kin  own  xhouhlers — the  Lord  be  praised  !  So 
they  tied  him  on  a  car  this  next  turn,  an'  tuk  him  to  Father  Alatchew 
fur  another  oficr;  an'  the  moment  Mick  saw  bis  rivirince,  be  began 


FATHER    MATHEW. 


67 


> 


■ 


to  tremble  «n'  shake,  an'  down  on  liis  knees  he  wint,  an'  tiik  the 
pledge  agen  ;  an'  8e«  he,  '  Oh  !  plase  yer  rivirince,'  j»s  he,  may  be  I  "d 
be  going  asthray  agen,'  ses  he.^ — '  Do  you  think  so?  '  ses  Father  Ala- 
tchew.  •  I  'U  be  bail  for  vou  this  time,'  se«  he.  So  wi'  that  he  itick 
■  good  hoult  of  htfi  head  f>rtunc  his  two  hands,  an'  if  he  did,  he  gev 
h  the  raal  Mjueedie  ;  and  when  this  wan  done  three  times,  Mick  was 
beOrr  thftn  ever  he  was  in  hts  life,  an'  would  rather  take  the  dirty 
ditcb-wather  now  than  fine  ould  Dublin;  an'  he's  getting  mighty 
rimu^  an*  ^oin'  tn  be  married  to  a  fine  girl  of  the  Moylans,  with  ten 
■CTM  sn'  thirty  pounds ! 

"  But  the  divil  so  bothered  a  fellow  yer  honor  ever  heerd  of  as 
Serjeant  O'Callaghan.     Did  yer  honor  go  to  Tnilee  this  year  ?  " 

*•  Ye*.  I  was  at  Tralee  not  long  since  ;  and  a  nice  thriving  town 
it  U,  with  temperance  rooms,  and  evcrythinj;  very  comfortable.  But 
what  of  Tralee,  and  Sergeant  O'Callagtian,  Corney  ?  '* 

"Oh.  not  a  great  deal,  yer  honor.  But  did  yer  honor  take  notice 
of  the  sergeant,  —  he  that's  gettin'  so  many  recruits  for  the  arthil- 
fcfy»" 

**Oh  yes  ;  I  think  I  remember  him, — a  very  tall  muscular  man,— 
a  fine  handsome- looking  fellow." 

**  The  very  same,  yer  honor, — an'  carries  a  beautiful  swoord,  an'  a 
■urttber  o'  beyant  liily  yards  of  ribands  flying  away  ten  yards  be- 
hind him  when  he  "s  marchin'  agen  the  wind,  an'  he  six  foot  two  and 
k  luir  inches  high  in  his  shtockin'  vamps." 

"  Ay ,  exactly,  —  that 's  the  same  man.  No  one  could  be  an  hour 
in  Tmlee  an'  not  see  him.     But  what  of  him,  Corney  ?     Do  tell  us." 

CosKsr.  "  Sure,  yer  honor,  he  *a  a  timprance  man  !  " 

**  Impossible  !  How  could  a  recruiting  sergeant  be  a  tee-totaller? 
The  thine  seems  out  of  tbe  question.  He  ought  rather  to  be  a 
twenty-tumbler  man." 

CovNKT.  "That's  thrue,  yer  honor — one  might  think  so,  cer- 
tifolv  ;  but  divil  a  word  o'  He  in  it  Sergeant  O'Callaghan  is  a  tee- 
MmIIct, — an'  I  'II  tell  yer  honor  all  about  it.  You  see,  sir,  the  ser- 
geant has  got  more  recruits  than  any  otiier  man,  and  marched  twelve 
ine  boTS  from  the  '  Reeks '  into  Cork,  to  be  drafted  on  boord  a 
'thraaanpoort '  for  the  Ingees ;  an'  Mt,  yer  honor,  they  had  a  merry 
marA  of  it,  an'  dhrank  plinty  o'  whishkey.  But  some  of  the  re- 
crniU  were  sinsible  lads,  an'  persuadecl  the  rest  to  wke  the  plidge ; 
fas  aca  one  of  them,  *  Boys,'  ses  he,  '  we  're  goin'  to  the  Ingeea,'  ses 
he,  '  an*  I  've  heerd  say  it  's  a  very  hot  place,'  ses  he,  *  an'  bumin* 
an'  aoorchin'  wilhiml  the  sperrets,'  ses  he;  '  and  so,'  ses  he,  if  yer  all 
of  one  mind,  ye  '11  come  to  Father  Matthew,  an'  thin  we  'U  be  able 
ffl»  the  Ingees,'  ses  he,  'an'  keep  ourselves  cool  there,'  ses  he.  So 
Uicy  all  agreed  to  take  the  plidge,  but  should  first  ask  lave  of  the 
Mf^geant, — an'  be  so  fair  a  man  to  dale  with,  that  he  didn't  object  in 
the  bate,  but  said  he  was  very  glad  of  it,  an'  would  go  with  'em,  an' 
•bow  *eeD  the  way  ;  an'  so  whin  the  sergeant  marchetl  up  wid  his 
twelve  men,  there  was  Father  Matchcw  sure  enough  standin'  in  the 
iJofir.  an*  maybe  Sergeant  O'Callaghan  wasn't  the  very  man  would 
five  him  the  fine  wnlute,  an'  he.  bowin'  low  to  his  rivirince,  explained 
tui  these  men  of  his  wor  goin'  to  fight  for  her  Majesty  in  the  In- 
m*.  an'  wishing  to  resave  the  ptidj;e  from  hi>i  rivirince,  he  d  done 
MBueir  the  honor  to  march  them  up.  An'  so  ses  his  rivirince  to 
,  O'Callaghan,  '  Atay  be,  air,  you  'U  join  yer  men,  an*  take 

ff  z 


68 


FATHER    MATHEW. 


the  plidge  yersilf,  sergeant  ?  '  svs  he,  '  which  can  be  done  at  the  eame  ' 
time,'  ses  lie,  '  an'  no  throuble  in  life,'  scr  he.  An'  so,  ycr  honor,  the 
poor  sergeant  hardly  knew  what  to  say  to  Father  JMatchew,  but  be- 
gan to  tell  him  it  wouldn't  quite  s/mlc  his  husincxx,  by  rason  the 
young  recruilHWor  mighty  aygarafther  the  punch  entirely,  an"  so  he 
was  afiear'd  he  must  decline  the  honor  ;  for  if  he  didn't  dhrink  purty 
hearty  an'  free  wid  'em,  the  divil  a  !M>w1  would  he  be  apt  to  get,  an' 
so  his  thrade  would  be  all  quinchc<l  at  wanst  wid  the  water.  '  Oh,  jist 
as  you  plase/  ses  Father  Alatchcw,  quite  aisy  an'  unconcerned  ; 
*  stand  a  one  side  so,  sergeant/  ses  he.  '  An*  now,  boys,  down  on  yer  , 
knee«,  and  repeat  the  plidge.' — '  I  promise/—'  I  promise/— an'  so  on, 
as  yer  honor  knows ;  an'  awa}*  they  wint  with  their  cards  an'  medals, 
an'  a  blessing  for  the  voy'ge  ;  thai  was  worth  any  money.  But  now, 
the  Lord  preserve  us  I  see  what  happened  to  Sergeant  O'Callaghan  ! 
Well,  yer  honor,  he  had  never  heerd  the  words  of  the  plidge  till  that 
blessed  day ;  an'  though  he  didn't  say  one  word  out  l(in<l,  so  ba  to  he. 
hecrd  beyant  the  slightest  taste  uf  a  whi)t|>er,  «till  his  lips  'ud  be 
movin"  and  follyin'  on  wid  the  men's  answers,  jint  as  yerlionor  would 
tap  a  little  wjd  yer  Angers,  an' me  playing  the  pipes  ;  but  he  thought 
nothing  of  it,  only  gloried  not  takin'  the  plidge,  that  would  have 
made  him,  as  himsilf  said,  only  fit  fur  the  iitil/ter.gaardt.  So  ses  ho,  , 
'  Well,  boys,  I  'ni  sorry  we  dhrink  no  more  together,"  ses  he  ;  •  but 
here,  landlord!  quick  wid  a  tumbler  an'  matariels,  till  I  dhrink  thcr 
health-i.'  So  down  he  sot,  an'  a  fine  hot  tumbler  of  punch  before 
him,  an'  he  pulling  oiT  his  cap  an*  feather,  an'  ribbons,  an'  one  of  liifi 
fine  white  gloves,  an'  shmellin'  to  it  all  the  time,  and  then  ses  the 
sergeant,  ses  he,  '  O  boys,  ye  don't  know  what  ye  've  denied  yer- 
fcelves  ov  ;  for  tlie  very  shmell  of  this  fine  warm  punch  bates  the 
roses  and  lilies  through  the  world.  So  here's  to  ye,  my  lads,  an' 
may  I  live  to  &ee  ye  all  come  back  comnilssioned  officers  1'  ses  he. 
An'  wid  that  he  put  out  his  two  grand  legs,  to  show  the  fine  calves 
he  had  on  them  ;  an'  be  the  same  token,  his  fist  was  aqual  to  half  a 
calfs  head  for  size,  an'  he  takin  a  grip  at  the  tumbler.  But,  the  Lord 
Mvc  ua]  not  wan  bit  av  it  could  he  move  aff  the  table!  There  it 
»tud,  as  if  a  tinpenny  nail  was  driv  through  it.  The  big  sergeant 
got  red  in  the  face,  nn'  thried,  an'  thried,  puUin'  away  at  it  as  hard 
as  he  could  :  but  all  wouldn't  do!  Divil  a  one  inch  it  would  move  I 
*I'm  bate  out/  ses  he.  — '  Faix,  y'are  so,'  ses  the  boys;  'for  you 
couldn't  keep  ycr  two  lips  tjniie,  an'  they  movin',  an'  we  rapatin'  the 
'  plidge.' — '  Be  me  sowkins,  that 's  it ! '  ses  the  sergeant  '  1  see  it  all 
'  now,'  ses  he  ;  'an'  there  's  no  use  shtrugglin'  with  Father  Matchew/ 
•cs  he.  •  Be  the  powers  of  ftloU  Kelly,  it 'a  over  wid  me  1*  »ea  Ser- 
geant O'Callagtuui,  av  the  arthillery." 


69 


JOURNAL  OF  OLD  BARNES,  THE  PANTALOON, 

ON  A  TKIF  TO  PARIS    IN  1830. 

"Aptkh  the  scrutiny  by  the  (luuanierft,  we  mnde  the  besl  of  our 
«sy  lo  the  Hotvl  de  Little,  to  which  our  directur  hud  desired  us  t»  go. 
Imurkvd  hastily  the  ditference  between  the  ^itrects  of  Pitrin  and  my 
•m  beloved  London^  where,  by  the  by,  I  made  my  first  appearance  at 
Bartbolnmew  P»ir.  I  am  nut  iiHhanied  tu  own  it-  Alatiy  others,  who 
h«rr  |>ra»pered  much  more  than  I  h-ive,  befian  there.  There  were  ••• 
•••• — Xa,  d — n  it ! — I  am  onlv  an  old  |mntntniiner,  whom  anybody  may 
Ingb  at,  mod  uolmdy  cares  fur.  Some  of  my  contemjmrarieA  are  now  in 
jBMcaioa  of  good  homes,  and  mix  in  genteel  society-  Aliud,  they  did  not 
laabl*  head  over  heeU  as  I  did.  Old  Rjch:irdson  wtis  my  manager. 
Mf  §nt  good  engngement  in  London  waa  at  the  Lyceum  theatre, 
wWtt  the  Dmry  Lane  Compiiny  acted  there,  after  the  deRtructiiin  of 
Ur.  Sfasridan's  splendid  edifice,  in  February  lltfK).  Christmas  IBIO,  1 
was  the  Pantaloon  in  the  pantomime  of  the  '  White  Cat ;'  nnd  an  ex- 
tcUcnl  mntomiuie  it  was.  Mr.  Arnold  wan  the  manager,  and  he  did  a 
dvrer  thing.  Oenerally,  the  night  before  the  Chrisimns  eve  is  considered 
abtd  theatrical  night ;  you  cannot  depend  on  a  good  hfiuse-  Air.  Arnold 
■ndoccd  the  'White  Cat' on  that  evening,  and  called  it  'A  Night 
Kthraral  to  the  Public'  Thiit  drew  an  immense  second  price  (and 
that  littJc  old  d<>g-hole  of  a  theatre  held  tliree  hundred  pounds)  ;  and 
ihepantOBiime  going  witli  perfect  succetis,  the  manager  gut  the  de.scrlp- 
liHH  and  critiques  of  it  in  ail  the  newsnapera  of  an  intervening  Sunday, 
whiA  hapwned  to  full  on  Christmas  day.  The  Kuccess  of  the  '  NA'hite 
Crt'  (and  I  suppose  they  liked  their  Pantaloon)  procured  me  London 
tnqp^gesnt'Cta  until  the  year  1B34.  1  think  the  '  White  Cat '  was  per- 
Mwd  luntrly  sixty  nights  in  the  first  season. 
"  After  we  had  refreshed  ourselves  with  soap  and  water,  and  brandy 
.  water,  we  promenaded  into  the  Palais  Royal.  Our  Handy-haired 
joined  us  at  the  Ksnie  hotel,  and  in  our  walk.  Nobody  asked 
but  he  came.  lie  had  nut  the  slightest  idea  that  I  was  nn  actor. 
If  be  had  been  apprised  of  that  fact,  he  ivould,  from  his  peculiar  reli- 
gious notions,  hape  avoided  me  as  u  pestilence. 

"  We  were  all  delighted  with  the  fuirj'-land  scene  that  was  presented 
to  ov  eyesight  by  the  brilliancy  of  the  ttliopK  in  the  Palais  Royal.  Sey- 
wumt  extolled  them  as  perfectly  '  plummy  and  sJam.'  The  ladies  had 
•ever  M«ti  loathing  by  ony  manner  of  means  »»^where  (and  would 
ttSl  mmifhody  as  witnesses)  half  w  charming  and  interesting. 

•*  Our  tourist  remarked,  that  it  was  the  Temple  of  Babylon,  and 
fUed  with  scarlet  females  :  it  w;is  all  heathenish  and  demoralising. 

*'Smmu  of  cuuipuny,  —  all  sorts,  ronk^,  sizes,  shapes,  ages,  and 
Mtiam,— nn  two  human  beings  alike ;  and  there  never  were,  until 
the  SinsMB  twins  were  exhibited-  with  their  little  Inittledores  and 
Attttleeocta :   they  were  exactly  alike — I  saw  them. 

"  If  you  wish  to  see  the  Palais  Rovul  to  advantage,  enter  it  at 
the  pttMaige  from  the  Rue  Vivienne  ;  thence  the  brilliancy  is  more 
afpvcnt.  Try  it  on  a  moonlight  mght,  and  the  light  and  ithadc  is 
■nr sad  vtsnlin^.  Myold  kind  friends  (fiod  hless  them  0  the  Messrs. 
OtiiTfli,  the  scrmc  artists  of  Coreot  Garden  and  Drury  Lane  theatres, 
an  praoMly  the  men  to  catch  and  depict  such  nii  eHvct.     Then  the 


JOURNAL  OP  OLD  BARNES,  THE  PANTALOON. 


eay  shops  for  everytbing,  —  the  jewellers,  clock-makers,  the  hottery, 
boMery.  stlckerr.  stockery,  perfumery,  bootery^  wJKgery,  —  tbe  print- 
stfllent,  llie  cafes,  tlie  rslamiacts  (N.B.  Bnd  Baccy  !)  told  that  the  com- 
motlicy  was  a  Govcroment  moDopoly.  Could  immediately  underiitand 
why  the  tobacco  was  of  an  inferior  quality.  Thtn  the  eatables  and 
driiiktibles ! — Lord  !  it  did  your  a])pc'tite  good  only  to  look  at  tlieni !— the 
dindoH  aux  truffcs,  which  means  turkey  cut  up,  and  stulfed  with  small 
pieces  uf  India  rubl>er.  1  did  not  touch  it,  on  account  of  tlie  latter 
muteriiil.  Don't  cutch  me  munching  cafcAouch.  Hare  Co  poke  it 
down,  perhaps,  with  a  black>leiid  pencil ! 

Then  there  were  the  theatres  in  the  Pidai«  R(iya1«  and  the  cnncertSj 
and  the  puppet-shows.  In  one  of  the  latter  I  naw  Mr.  Punch,  tliree 
limes  the  size  that  he  is  ever  exhihiteil  in  honditn,  helnive  infamoimly 
tu  hiK  wife,  slapping  her  in  the  moHt  indecorous  manner  ;  avi  and  tifty 
females  in  tbe  salon  stood  by  enjoying  it,  but  not  one  Kngli&h woman. 
yivak  that,  for  the  honour  of  my  country  !  Then  you  may  enter  a 
splendid  cafe,  with  a  half  hundretl  marble  tables  in  it,  supern-Iooking 
glasses  on  the  avails,  erery  appurtenance  and  impertinence  in  the  mo«t 
expensive  utyle  ;  yet  llie  proprietor,  civil  to  his  visiterK,  does  not  object 
lu  two  of  them  playing  twenty  ganie^  of  dominoes  for  the  stake  of  two 
glasses  of  '  ctiu  sucr^.'  Perceiving  the  interest  this  beverage  excited, 
and  the  play  and  Kkill  depending  on  it,  though  I  uuver  would  encou- 
rage gaming,  I  ordtred  »ume  *  eau  sucr^.'  When  it  came,  and  I  tasted 
it — Lord !  where  were  their  palates  ? 

"  Is  not  it  Ntrangc  that  travelling  only  150  milcji,  there  should  be 
Kuch  a  vast  dilference  in  tastes  in  human  beings  ?  I  could  not  touch 
their  insipid  drink,  and  they  had  ]Msitively  endured  the  trouble  of 
twenty  games  of  dominot's  for  it ! 

"  Returned  to  tlic  llutel  de  Lisle,  having  partaken  of  some  wine  and 
eau  de  veau,  lu  Ronahlsun  (the  old  calf!)  would  still  call  it.  Went  to 
bed,  thought  of  home  and  Old  England,  Poor  dear  Alary,  Tom  Ellar, 
Paulo,  and  uf  Mr.  Uradwell  and  his  mechanical  changes.  Ruminated, 
— that  is,  '  chewed  the  cud  '  of  reflection,  until  I  went  to  sleep* 

"Up  betimes.  1  am  like  the  late  Mr.  Simmons;  I  never  can  lie 
lung  in  bed.  Rouse<l  the  rest  of  our  party,  and  uvl  to  breakfast — very 
un-English.  An  Englisliman  likes  his  breakfast  at  home — the  verjr 
paying  fur  it  strikes  you.  Columbine's  mamma  said  the  green  tea 
tasteaof  copperas  {why  did  not  she  take  cu6>;e,  the  old  fooll);  luid 
when  1  mentioned  that  the  white  sugar  was  possibly  made  uf  beet-root, 
she  avowed  that  she  tasted  tbe  salad  in  it.  —  31  km.  Poor  thing's  atCH 
mach  out  of  or<ler  already.  1  was  sure  of  it ;  for  she  left  her  egg  for 
any  one  else  to  foster  like  a  cuckuo.  Harlequin  ate  it  (the  Jew  French- 
man), and  would  have  swallowed  anything.  He  drove  me  wild  by 
seeing  him  devour  a  nearly-raw  beefsteak,  cut  very  thick,  which  re- 
minded me  forcibly  of  *  a  pound  of  Antonio's  tlesli,  nearest  his  heart.' 
I  really  was  compelled  to  call  for  a  little  brandy,  and  a  little  more 
after  that,  to  compose  my  nervea.  How  con  people  be  so  filthy  in  their 
appetites  ? 

"  Noticed  a  much  cheaper  and  better  display  of  the  theatre  play-bills 
than  in  I^udun.  There  are  certain  stations  on  columns  or  buildings, 
in  various  parts  of  Paris,  on  which  the  bills  of  al[  the  theatres  are 
{MMited  daily,  and  where  the  public  regularly  liwk  for  them.  Should 
there  be  no  [M>rfurmiincc  at  night,  the  word  kklacur  is  in  n  large 
type,  conspicuous  on  the  bill.    This  HonieliaiUiS  appears,  on   two  or 


JOURNAL  OF  OLD  BARNES,  THE  PANTALOON. 


71 


lihrce  pbjr-billa.     Seymour  remarked  to  me  knowingly,  that  there  must 

I  be  ■  wry  popoJar  piece  being  acted  at  the  time,  fur  it  was  wrttirmed 

at  thm  different  tlieatres,  and  was  called  rslachr.     He  lulviscd  me, 

if  it  mu  printed  to  buy  iti  and  send  it  over  to  Mr.  Muncrieff  to  tnina- 

^Iste  ha  the  Cuburg  theatre. 

"  PnuDeiuded  tbe  Ktrectn  ;  Paris  all  gaiety  ;  the  Boulevards  crowded 
' :  w^'ilressed  ladies ;  cofiee  roasting  under  a  wood  lire,  in  a  tin 
It  machine,  before  alnmst  ull  the  (grocers'  shujtti ;  Htick-mat- 
t  ripped  up,  beaten,  and  re-made  in  the  open  thoroughfares  ;  old 
'  mmen  trijnming  poodleo  on  the  bridges;  letter- writers  in  atulU,  on 
toy  lobject ;  prints  exhibited  fur  public  sale,  which  would  be  torn 
dowB  in  Lfuiuon  by  any  cual-heavcr  who  was  a  fnther  of  a  family. 
BiiDT  more  theatrics!  portniiltt  in  the  print-shops  than  in  our  metro- 
pala.  TJie  public  tliink  much  more  of  actors  and  authors  than  they 
wwhii  ua;  both  are  encouraged-  Alonsieur  Scribe,  a  comic  dramatic 
Wfitvr,  gets  above  two  thousand  pounds  a-year.  The  Parisian  public 
rwptct  aad  uphold  him. 

"  A*ked  our  aerioui  iriend^  whose  name  I  found  out  (by  seeing  it 
Ivrittro  ill  biK  hat)  waf>  Mudpole,  what  he  thought  of  the  buKtle  of  the 
B«»lcr«rda  ?  He  replied,  —  that  it  was  u  scene  which  would  have 
nnfokcd  the  pious  indignation  of  u  Nehemioh,  zealooit  for  the  glory  of 
tm  Idaker,  u>  aa  irascible  state  of  choleric  exacerbiitinn, — a  scentr, 
In  (nc*  to  opposed  to  everything  that  was  barely  moral,  that  even  a 
Quistiftn  of  moderate  piety  would  have  inwardly  experienced  pity,  dis- 
);ut,  and  shame. 

**  Waiukred  till  dinner-time,  when  wc  all  entered  a  rest  aural  fur's, 
—€mr1e  almost  as  long  as  the  carbt  in  tlie  street,  which  appear  to  be 
Midv  to  ro  into  next  week.  Rut  the  Pari»  carle,  or  bill  of  fare,  gives 
}••  aa  uifinite  variety  of  eatitbtes.  Put  on  my  spectucleti,  but  was 
i—iiyi  bcithered  with  the  names  of  the  Freiicb  dishes*  Seymour  had 
a  bill  vao  in  hii  bund,  und  he  pulled  my  elbow,  and  said,  '  Look  here, 
Nr.  Bamex/  He  then  put  hm  6iiger  on  the  word  '  foissonb,'  \vhich 
W  vary  naturuily,  jKKir  fellow,  read  ax  '  poiwnH.'  This  puzxled  me  a 
fitlfe.  and  1  proceeded  to  look  for  the  names  of  tbet>e  poiNons :  I  co- 
ptd  thctn  in  pencil, — '  anguillee*  etuves,  'merlan  frit/  '  morue  bouille,' 
'^periam,'  'tmite  grillce,'  —  and  yet,  strange  to  say,  all  thene  poisons 
werv  priced,  like  the  other  eatables  in  the  bilL  Sorry  I  had  not  my 
Fktnoi  dictionary,  and  did  not  choose  to  expose  my  ignorance  by  usk- 
lif  i|OHtioa». 

**  But  it  now  came  to  the  point  wbot  we  were  to  have  for  dinner. 
AU  oC  ihrm  saJd  that  I  was  to  order.  (N.  I).  That  cursed  Harlequin^ 
wba  coold  have  interpreted,  bod  left  us.)  I  asked  Columbine  and  her 
■aamaa  if  Oiey  would  take  some  soup?  The  latter  nplied, — that  it 
WTcr  aiE'eed  with  either  of  tbtrm.  No  go  there.  I  then  thought  they 
nirin  like  some  li«h  ;  but  did  not  know  how  to  ask  for  it ;  and  that 
iafafBal  word,  '  potsstms,'  uguin  caught  itiy  eye,  and  made  me  hesitate. 
SijaMttr  inquired  if  1  happened  to  know  the  Frencli  for  'brown 
tfaot?*  I  confessed  to  liuviug  looked  in  my  dictionary  in  the  niom- 
■g  for  the  two  words,  tuul  hou  written  them  down  in  my  tittle  menio- 
Ifdiiiii  liiml'  So>  putting  on  my  hpectuclcs,  I  read  tbt-m,  '  iirunc, 
ifni  a  dm  ctrvr.'  Thix  n-juiced  Seymour,  who  begged  me  to  order  him 
s  piit  fif  it  ;  hut  1  rould  not  make  the  fiK»l  of  a  waiter  understand  me ; 
SM*  if  hit  porter  biid  no  Itcttcr  bend  than  he  had,  it  could  not  have 
bMS  ga<i(t  for  much.     They  were  now  all  becoming  very  impatient, 


road  w^Mlny  their  bread,  and  kept  me  in  a  state  of  ner- 
■bteMi' as kft «nl«*io^  dinner.  I  never  in  my  life  vras  ia  such 
,  im  «•  hti  all  the  ev'^«  uf  llie  rtM>ni  upon  us,  which  vrts  nota 
■MtU  bf  OilnmbinL*  s  umnimu  Hutvpin;^  a  large  rUss  decanter 
r^tfth*  table  with  her  elboiv,  which  crashed  intofiftv  pieces  uid 
____ilJb«Mrfl  •  French  jc;eut  lent  mi's  crews-burred  black  silk  stiicktiin 
4Alk*aBA£  mtis.  Wc  could  not  apologiHti  ;  and  he  kept  »hakiiig  hu 
Mufctthtftttt:  and,  wunte  than  alt,  thuse  brutes  Seymimr  nod  R»- 
■■hlMMk  caoU  not  refrain  from  laughing.  Columbine,  bluxbing,  Budj 
''lllk  wake  bsite,  Mr.  Banies,  and  order  Aomt-thing;  I  am  vtrj 
bmgry.'  So  I  was  compiled  to  moke  a  do&h  at  the  fir!<t  disb  that 
tftva  caught  my  eye  on  the  hill  of  fare,  '  des  raves'  So  1  beck- 
MCil  the  waiter,  und  fminted  to  the  article.  'Pour  tjuatrty  mo*. 
tinrf"  said  he.— '  Yes/ said  I,  with  the  carle  in  my  hand.  He 
stared;  but  iuimcdiately  went  to  order  fur  int.  *  Thank  Heaven!' 
exclaimed  Konald^on.  '  ive  &hnU  tioit  get  Honvothin'^  nice  and  hot 
What  a  conifurt  it  is  to  have  in  a  foreign  onuntry  such  a  person  via  Air. 
Barnes  fur  a  fellow-traveller  I'  I  felt  'cock-a-hoop'  at  this  comph- 
mcnt,  and  quoted  Old  Rapid  in  the  *  Cure  fur  the  Ilcart-Ache/^' Jf 
it  is  ever  so  little,  let  me  have  it  hut.'  But,  Lord  I  bow  their  fiices  ull 
turned  blue  whea  the  waiter  put  on  the  table  fiuir  di.shes  uf  turnip 
radishes  !  (Yuu  might  hove  knucked  me  doun  with  a  straw.  Now, 
pmy.  bi)w  \\\is  ihe  pantomime  to  succeed  wlien  the  first  scene  was  a 
dead  fiiilure  I)  When,  as  luck  wuuld  have  it,  the  Jew  Frenchman,^ 
(harle(|uin)  came  to  Keek  us  ;  und,  tin  ixpUining  the  diJemnm.  pit  u«^| 
ruaxted  turkey  studed  uIlIi  che5tnuts;  calflettrs  d  ia  ^lainttmfn  — 
whicli  are  niuilun-chops  ^viili  writing-^mper  sauce,  and  s<tme  other 
ttiabea  of  M*hich  we  were  afraid  even  ta  ask  the  names;  all  very 
Hwuryi  and  plenty  uf  oniuus  and  garlic ;  but,  whether  thev  were 
cvBiposed  uf  squirrels,  parruta,  durniice,  bippupotamus,,  or  aUigatur, 
wc  novvr  inquired,  and  never  knew. 

••Mr.  Mudpole  said  the  longest  grace  before  dinner  I  ever  beard 
ill  ttiY  lifts  with  the  whites  of  his  eyeK  turned  up,  und  ^baking  hin 
biMd.  As  a  ci»ntm<(t  to  that,  I  remember  an  old  fat  curmudgeun  of 
a  Nwfolk  farnuT,  who  iilwiiys  repeated  this  *  grace  after  mejit/ — 
'Tbauk  (IihI  t  I 've  had  u  guiKl  dinner:  and  I  don't  cure  who  haru't  !* 
*•  Kecvivtid  directiiiiiR  tu  attend  the  theatre  in  the  evening,  ut  which 
Wi»  HKcrv  eUKagtsl.     Went,  und  we  were  introduced  to  the  principal 

■"  "'  " who  welcomed  us  to  Paris.     Saw  part  nf  the  ]H.>rformauce» 

u<t  uudenitiind  a  word  uf  it.     N.  B.  The  French  guud  cume- 
v>i.«jit  >M  uature. 

'*  Kv'iuruv^  to  the  hotel ;  had  some  conversstinn  with  our  tourist, 

>'      >'     '     '.       He  had  Iwen  Net-tug  Paris  in  bis  own  way  ;  hut,  some- 

he  ismtrived  to  be  very  unfortunate  in  bis  lion-hunting, 

U.t  >  -ut\\>  lti«  *  BoHftt  ci  TrihHHal  de  Commerce.'    There  he  was  told 

likafc  «U  cuiuutercirtl  u|>enitiun<t  being  ended,  the  exchange  was  eJosed. 

Ua  b^wvwft  Cv^t  bim  nothing, — so  he  proved  the  old  adage  that  '  Kx- 

ci»iWiMv  M<M  Ho  wWhtv.'     He  then,  as   he  expressi-d  it,  '  inclined  bis 

^  '^Ua  lb«  Y  Ni/t'nV<  ;  but  us  Paris  waa  ut  this  period  in  a  state 

siiilitf«l  vKeiteutent,  I  don't  think  lhat.Meissieur»  the  sentinels 

v\^  bis  apiK'uniuce.     Aludpule  then  ]ioked   his  way  tu  Noire 

^k^699  h0  fuund  a   great   religious  ceremuninl  in   agitutinn. 

tti^  bnno  aad  foot  soldiers  patrolling.     It  turued  out  lu 

Ibt  t^vnt  govemmeat  of  Cbarlca  X^  Pulignuc,  and 


JOURNAL  OF  OLD  BARNES,  TUB  PANTALOON. 


75 


I 


net,  this  was  the  obserrance  of  a  festival  annually  heW,  in  wle- 
of  the  fulhlment  of  a  vow  made  hy  Lfiuis  the  FDiirtt>enih  to 
tbe  Virgin  Mury*  when  he  thuu^tbt  that  sfte  had  firanteU  Aim  a  little 
boy  to  Xtv  Iwm,  after  a  tn-tfnty-t«o  years'  sterilti  state  of  wedlock  with 
hii  rvyjU  cdnwrt !  '  Well.'  thniifiht  I,  *  Rarnes.  yon  are  a  d — d  old 
ftnl  t  hut  am  ytvu  ioiaf;iiic  anything  half  su  ridiculons  an  that,  in  a 
CMBtrr  which  eHteems  Itself  the  most  enlightened  on  the  face  ufthe 
^obt !  The  royal  family  irere  present-  His  Alojesty,  white  und 
Utin,  IDce  a  H7Ui>tnper;  tlie  arclibitthups  and  hitihupK,  niustly  fat  ond 
mddUng  ;  the  militarv,  their  bands — the  choral-chaunting^  and  other 
uatataety,  all  drove  Mr.  Aludpole  crazy ;  and  he  Cold  me  senoualv 
tfatt  it  WM,  in  his  opinion,  a  huge  and  monfttrous  vanity  ;  the  eqni* 
|Mg*  of  a  benighted  superstition  ;  heathen,  demoralizinf;  priestcraft 
vormliip ;  the  essence  of  that  Apocalyptic  beast,  that  mother  of  har- 
bu  and  abominations,  that  Queen  of  Mystic  Bitbylon.  The  word, 
Bmbylam  struck  my  pun-loving  ear;  when  the  whole  affair  had  been 
gel  up  for  the  'loan  of  a  baby,' 

"  It  is  not  my  habit  to  1:iu}>h  at  church  myself.  I  used  sometimes 
to  aocompttny  my  poor  dear  ^lary  (now  dead  and  gone)  to  Kowluud 
HiU's  chupel.  She  wnn  partial  to  it  ;  though,  I  ntu»t  own,  with  all  my 
I«rtial>ty  fur  her.  I  think  hhe  went  more  to  sliow  off  her  singing  than 
■Mjr  otber  moljvr.  She  hud  u  very  powerful  voice.  We  hud  a  Wol- 
VHlMmpton  aojuaintiince,  who  Hved  in  the  Blitckfriars'  Road,  who 
Mt  nmr  to  us  in  the  chupel;  and,  in  a  complimentary  way,  be  used 
to  aay*  *Mni.  Barneti's  vice  is  aUive  all  the  other  females  in  the 
dtapel'  He  meant  to  h.ire  pronounced  the  word  voice  ;  but  uU  folks 
from  Staffordshire,  and  adjiicent  counties,  use  tier  for  tvwf. 

**  Pounced,  by  tbe  blesjiing  of  Heaven,  on  a  irurthy  KiigliMhrnan, 
Ml.  Wood,  who  keeps  a  publichouse  —  ay,  a  Brilish  publichouHe, — 
is  Pkria.  He  has  got  hi*  labelled  bottles,  'OldToni,'  'Bitters,'  '  Lon- 
d«a  barter  in  draught  and  bottle,'  'fiin,' — gin  in  Pa.ris  ! — '  cumfortahle 
£nmh  dinners,"  '  roasted  joints,'  *  potatoes,'  'apple  dumplings,' luid 
•■  bit  of  iitrung  Cheshire.'  All  right,  old  boy  !  Wo  longer  obliged  to 
DnuUtr  Jour  poor  diaphnigai  with  what  ore  termed  *  iick'hari^s '  in 
£aclish  ;  but  which  must  mean  in  French  (without  bothering  one 
with  the  dictionary,)  from  the  similarity  of  »ound,  '  qttelquex  chote*.' 

"  Ailrration  in  the  weather  ;  wind  got  up  ;  gusty  and  dusty.  What 
ntnonliuary  alteraliuns  have  taken  place  in  my  recollection  of  sea- 
•«»• !  VVe  once  were  tolerably  secure  of  the  approaches  and  vjsit- 
itiona  of  the  different  (juarters  of  llie  year  ;  but  now  all  are  changed, 
lam  ■ware  that  1  am  an  old  foul;  but,  watching  the  ItKhnutngers* 
ihupa,  the  periods  of  nrriviil  of  tish  on  the  atakl  of  Great  Britain  are 
■Iterrd  from  what  I  imagine  I  remembered.  A  red  mullet  was  w> 
are  a  ft-dlow,  that  when  I  t.Hw  them  latterly  by  dozens.  1  Uiuughc  they 
vere  ibe  Chinese  carji.  Only  I  forgot  the  magnifying  power  of  the 
^obalar  glui.  The  red  mullet  has  been  driven  to  our  shores  ;  the 
prnDds  of  mackerel  migrations  have  chajiged  ;  herrings — which  used 
■dy  to  be  seen  in  Dctoher  and  XovemWr, —  are  visible  on  the  fish- 
■HBt^ers'  iKMirds  almost  uU  the  year.  M'e  have  bad  whales  in  the 
Qanoel,  ond  a  much  larger  quantity  of  white-bait  in  the  Thames.  1, 
■Ceardini(lv.  set  uiy  pauuhion's  head  to  account  fur  all  this  change. 

"  And  i  have  hit  it,  sure  as  a  gun  :  —  we  English,  in  our  love  of 
NMftce,  have  been  tani])ering  t»Kj  much  with  the  North  Hole  :  it  should 
oiTvr  Ittvr  been  disturbed.     Holes  huvc  been  repeatedly  broken  in  tbe 


75 


JUDGING  BY  APPEARANCES 
MISTAKES  IN  A  PHISUN. 

K>*Ti*v  after  tlie  execution  of  llie  cu]|iriu  we  were  musing  orer 

rine  after  s  sumptuous  dinner,  wlien  my  friend,  Mr.  Uove^vays. 

yunand  that  on  tlie  folluwing  day  we  should  go  over  the  county  gaol, 

vlvb  had  the  reputation  of  imw^  tlie  bent  built   and  tlie  l>est  ma- 

j      Bi^wl^  periiaps,  of  any  gaol  in   England.     1  am  generally  urerse  to 

I  lAating  scene*  of  vice,  calamity,  and  woe,  from  motives  of  mere  curi- 
itinj,  or  front  any  motives  but  thust;  of  assisting  the  sufTerere,  and 
■choaJing  myself  into  babits  of  forbearance  and  mercy  towards  my  fel- 

^  If^HVMtor^.  On  this  occasion,  however,  1  a^^reed  to  akccompany  my 
tmoA,  wad  the  next  day  the  visit  wax  paid. 

]krr.  Dorewaya  ivas  in  the  commission  of  the  peace,  and  consequently 

^_vc  olitained  easy  access  to  the  innermost  recesses  of  the  prison. 

^ft   We  bad  visited  all  the  female  Avards  save  one. 

^H    "  la  that  ward,"  said  the  inatnin,  "  we  have  liut  two  priaonem :  one 

^■■■Diitted  for  an  asKanlt ;  and  the  other,  fur  refusine  to  attiliate  her 

Tb«  fang*  bolt  was  withdrawn,  and  the  ponderous  key  performed  its 
«Aee.  The  door  was  opened ;  and  in  a  well-sized  and  remarkablv 
cina  room,  with  iU  white-washed  walb>,  and  Hour  almost  rivalling  their 
vUtencM,  H-ere  two  female  pritirrnertu 

An  Amazonian  woman,  with  coariio  features  and  dishevelled  carroty 
biff,  watt  trtampiug  up  and  down  the  room,  trying  to  qniet  a  miserably 
^uQ  aiokly  child,  wnotte  shrill  s<(ue»king  voice  was  the  most  annoy- 
ing I  had  ever  beard  from  infancy.  The  huge  ugly  creature  pressed 
ike  brat  to  her  immense  diest ;  and,  its  she  took  her  wide  strides  and 
dMenaiiied  atepa,  her  splay  feet  seemed  to  threaten  tu  crush  each 
btard  benoath  her. 

In  the  fiuther  comer  sat  a  young  girl  of  seventeen.     She  rose,  and 

noitesied ;  bnt  the  down-cast  eve,  the  flu&hing  cheek  and  quivering 

fif  sbwed  that  she  was  ashamed   to  meet  our  gaze.     Her  courtexy 

VM  frueful  in  the  extreme.    It  was  the  discipline  ot  the  gani  that  all 

piiauocts  aliould   remain  tttonding  whilst  visiters  were   present ;  but 

tins  poor  girl  trembled  so   that  she  could  scarcely  support  herself. 

Evr  fiaoe  was  extremely  benntifnl ;  the  features  delicate ;  the  com- 

plrxiua  pale ;  ood,  if  I  ever  saw  a  lofty  brow,  a  clear  magnificent  eye, 

nd  Upa  tiuA  ezpreiaed  dignity  and  sweetness,  puritv  and  gentleness, 

'        tkb  poor  girl  ponesaed  them  all  in  perfection.    Hertigure,  considering 

Wrsgv,  was  tail  and  beautifully  formed,  and  her  manner  even  elegant. 

1  vas  overcome  by  tlie  distress  whicli  our  presence  occasioned,  as  well 

nby  her  general  ap|)earance;  and,  fiill  of  emotion,  I  suddenly  witli- 

drrv.    My  friend  followed  ;  and  was  even  more  affected  than  myself. 

Tkr  day  was  so  beautiful  that  we  resolved  to  walk  from  the  gaol  to 

ny  (rieod's  mansion.     The  fint  half  hour  was  pitMcd  in  silence,  each 

I         ■  11  bnag  ftfaMrbtfd  in  liis  own  melancholy  thouglits.     I  was  the  Brst 

Okpcak. 

'*  After  all"  said  1, "there are  some  good  points  to  be  found  even  in 
tW  sbandoued.  The  niosi  omrse  and  rude  natures  have  their  deli- 
aoKs^  and  the  mo»t  violent  their  times  of  geutluuess.     How  kind,  was 


76 


JUDGING   BY    APPF.ARANCES. 


it  in  that  apparently  brutal  Amazon  to  nurse  that  bantling!  for,  aniall 
OS  it  was,  tiiu"  poiir  mother  seemwl  too  weak  and  dplicatc  to  carry  it. 

"  You  are  again  in  error,"  said  my  friend,  with  a  faint  smile.  *'  That 
coarse  woman,  with  her  bird  features  and  red  hnir,  was  nursing  hec 
own  offspring.  It  is  the  ehild  of  that  pale  minikin  iKironet,  whuse  af- 
fectation and  mincing  relinementa  so  offended  you  the  other  day.  Sir 
Uercules  Savage  has  not  the  best  reputation  in  the  neiplibourbood ; 
and  the  \voman  professes  groat  attachment  to  him>  and  will  not  aHili- 
ate,  declaring  bur  confidence  that  her  panimtnir  has  too  much  afiecdon 
for  her  and  the  baby  ever  to  abandon  either." 

"  And  u'hat  is  that  delicate  and  beautiful  girl  in  conBuetnent  fur 

"An  assault." — "An  assault?  im  possible  1" 

*'  An  assault  that  nearly  cost  the  life  of  one  of  the  finest  and  m 
robuttt  voung  men  in  the  county." 

"  She  hiia  nut  the  strength  tn  artsail  a  lapdog,  poor  little  gossamer 
iylpb  !     Yuu  might  b8  well  talk  of  a  butterfly  assaulting  a  bull-dog." 

"  My  friend,  the  history  of  this  poor  young  creature  is  affeciin' 
I  was  on  the  beii(^  when  she  was  convicted,  and  her  case  mac 
an  extraordinary  sensation  among  the  magistrates.  She  is  the  fourth 
daughter  of  a  lieuteniint  in  the  navy,  who  fought  and  hied  with  Nel- 
son at  the  Nile  and  Copenhagen,  and  closed  his  active  career  at  the 
battle  of  Tnifwlgnr.  He  hud  before  lo^t  an  arm  ;  here  he  lost  a  leg; 
and  now,  in  liis  old  age,  has  the  merit  of  supporting  twelve  children 
on  hi^  hnlf-psy,  und  upon  one  small  pension  for  many  severe  wounds. 
A  very  tine  und  htrndsoine  voung  man,  the  son  of  a  rich  farmer  in  the 
neighbourhood,  paid  bis  addresses  to  this  girl ;  and,  as  it  appears,  suc- 
ceeded in  g:iining  the  affections  of  the  confiding  and  gentle  creature. 
The  courtshii)  proceeded,  and  the  love  of  the  ^irl  became  the  eutfausi- 
aam  that  poets  write  of.  The  young  fellow  liad  rather  an  unsteady 
character,  being  fonder  of  iiunting,  shooting,  racing,  and  athletic 
excrciHeK,  than  of  aiiinditig  to  Lis  father's  husiiies)*.  In  one  thing 
only  he  seemed  constant  —  his  love  of  bis  victim.  At  length  be  went 
60  far  nn  to  ask  permission  of  his  father  to  marry  the  girl. 

The  wealthy  old  man  indignnntly  refused  his  consent,  declaring  that 
be  had  nut  noticed  his  attentions  to  the  lieutenant's  daughter,  sup* 
jiusing  it  was  a  mere  tempornry  alfuir  ;  and  that  his  real  wish  wtis  that  he 
should  marry  the  daughter  of  a  neighlmur,  a  farmer  of  considerable  pn>- 
jierty*  who  could  lay  down  a  hundred  pounds  to  the  lieutenant's  Intl^ 
crown.  After  abundance  of  abuse  directed  aguiuKt  punper  ofhcers,  beg- 
garly gentlemen,  and  pride  in  rag!<,  he  concluded  by  giving  hia  aon  the 
option  of  marrying  the  girl,  and  being  disinherited,  or  the  farmer's 
daughter,  and  inheriting  every  nhitling  that  both  parents  poj^esaed. 
The  heartless  and  unprincipled  yuung  scoundrel  cboae  the  latter  olter- 
nutive  without  the  slightest  bcsitation,  as  if  his  former  love  had  been 
really  what  his  no  less  vile  parent  had  supposed  it. 

The  poor  girl's  expectations  of  nn  immediate  end  happy  marriage 
were  wrought  up  to  the  highest  pilch,  and  love  glowed  in  her  young 
and  pure  heart,  us  the  hour  dretv  near  at  which  her  torer  hud  pledged 
himself  to  bring  his  father's  approliation.  It  never  entered  into  her 
mind  that  a  refusal  was  possible  ;  for  the  courtship  hud  Wen  carrieil  on 
with  that  f<ither's  knowledge;  "  and,  though  poor,"  tliought  she,  "  my 
own  father  is  a  gentleman." 

The  lover  arrived  ;  and,  after  a  few  glasses  of  «ine,  communicated  to 
her  all  tlial  bod  (tassud.      The   inexperienced  and  doling  girl  tint 


JUDGINO    BY   APPEARANCES. 


w 


N 


»un  tDtoxicated,  then  that  He  was  only  plarinc  with  her  feel- 
ioic»]irrviousJy  to  announcing  tlie  glad  tidings  that  he  had  really  brought. 
The  tnitb.  howerur,  w^s  simn  made  too  plain.  Womanly  pride  and  in- 
dignaliua,  cootending  with  contempt  and  scorn  fur  the  meanness  of  the 
wretch  wbuin  she  had  loved,  ponse-siied  her  with  snch  intensity*  that  her 
ynuoj;  &»tne  gare  way,  and  she  fainted.  She  waft  restored  to  life,  and 
til  oiomenianr  love^  until  a  recollection  of  all  that  had  po^^ed  revived, 
whfo  her  Mrllish  admirer  reneweil  the  Kul>ject.  She  wept  bitterly,  and 
rcBuadtHl  him  of  bis  vow»,  and  of  the  declarations  of  att.tchmcnt  that 
h»d  psaaed.  He  replie<l  by  a-tsuring  her  that  he  tittll  loved  her  beKt, 
although  he  should  be  compelled  to  marry  the  other ;  and  had  the  aii- 
dkcilr  to  propone  that  the  two  unions  should  go  on  together,  their  own 
being  managed  with  secrecy. 

At  thia  proposal,  all  the  passions  that  had  by  turns  swayed  her,  shot 
tibfvaeh  bcr  bniin  like  lightning,  until  in  a  paroxysm  of  frenzy  she 
•ebrd  the  decanter  on  the  tuble,  and  struck  the  wretch  a  bloiv  that 
kU  him  pnmtrnte.  Nature  in  her  was  exhaustpd,  and  she  fiiintei)  with 
th*  fffloit*  AIadne84  gives  wonderful  strength,  and  the  wound  inHictetl 
hf  tiiat  delicate  arm  fractured  the  fellow's  nUiiII,  imd  has  di.tfigured  his 
aca  fivr  ever.  Like  Cain,  he  will  carry  about  with  him  the  &tuin  of  his 
|bJt  tu  his  lute.st  hour. 
We  now  entered  tlie  houne.  After  dinner,  I  renewed  the  subject. 
"Oat  of  evil  souietimes  cometb  good,"  .said  my  friend.  **  Tlie  girl's 
Umy  will  be  the  making  of  her  familv.     It  has  drawn  the  attention  of 

tfce  feotry  to  her  hitherto  nc^lecteil  father ;  and  Lord ,  who  is 

aaw  ID  the  Admiui&tration,  has  already  given  her  two  eldest  brutheni 
dcrfcahipft  in  public  offices,  and  has  procured  fur  the  veteran  a  peosion 
«Ue  Civil  List." 
"It  atrvck  me,''  said  X,  after  a  long  and  melancholy  pause,  "  that 
bca  the  anfurtunate  girl  stood  before  u&  in  the  giu)l,  the  resembltmce 
bttwtrn  her  ami  lloen  was  a  remarkable  one/' 

''For  Heaveo'tt  sake*  pursue  that  subject  no  further  1"  said  my 
ftinM).  looking  earuestly  iumy  face,  and  gently  pressing  his  bond  upon 
ttr  vn.     "  'Hie  resemuhmce  tvas  beyond  anything  I  could  have  con- 
caved.    1  6aw  you  were  stronglv  nioved,  and  my  own  emotion  was 
Vfiallj  ptrarerful.     It  was  this,  1  know,  that  made  us  both  so  abrupllv 
lfif«  the  gaol.     Pour  Rosa  I  "said  my  friend,  with  a  high.     "  But,' 
Mtd  he,  after  a  meliincholy  pause,  "  a  liberal  subscription  will  be  got 
»  tar  thia  unfortunate  girl,  directly  her  term  of  imprisonment  has  ex- 
ptird.  and  I  have  no  doubt  she  will  receive — " 
"  A  letter,  fir,"  said  a  servant,  entering  the  room* 
"A  letter  fn>m  whom?  "  asked  Doveways  impaticntlv. 
"  Frnh  the  George  Inn,  sir ;  and  the  porter  is  de^tirL-d  net  to  return 
iritiioBt  aa  answer." 

DoTvwttys,  with  a  slight  ajwiogr  to  me,  opened  the  epistle.  As  bo 
md  h,  his  &ce  turned  gh.Lstly  pale,  and  wim  then  fluhbed  with  rage  ; 
Us  eyea  sliot  fire  as  be  threw  it  on  the  ground. 

*'Foar  horses  iniitantly  to  the  carriage,"  he  cried;  "and  bid  my 
nlcC  and  a  footman  be  ready  to  attend  me  to  town  in  a  quarter  of  an 
ko«r — a  qnarter  (»f  an  hour,  do  you  hear;  and  do  not  let  the  messenger 
Inve  this  house  before  I  do." 

The  aerraot  left  the  roonij  and  Ooreways  paced  up  and  down  it  like 
iBBsdmsn. 


75 


TSB   VOICBS   OF   THE   NIGHT. 


"Tin*  tetter."  -mid  IXntwiys,  "is  from  a  demon  of  penecat 

t  tD«k  thv  Icaar  inm  the  floor,  and  opening  It,  fband  that  it 
ftHi  Lidr  JAHB^Mia  Grixzlc.  It  statfd  in  the  most  nfti  tiuiiML 
^mam  t^ifc  ik*  had  feft  Florence  immediutely  after  my  biemA;  that 
akm  «■•  avv^Wrviy  to  the  North,  but  tfant  the  fixUt—  besaty  of 
tk»  uhuiUt  hmi  iaditced  ht;r  to  deviate  from  her  conme ;  wad^  n  sh« 

WM  w  vcrr  a««r  to  Hall,  filie  woiild  take  the  opportunity  at 

puiiqc  htfT  frieod  Mr.  Doveways  a  visit,  if  perfectly  convenient- 

We  posted  up  to  town,  and  during  the  journey  I  often  conilns^d  to 
mfmU  thai  there  is  no  infallibility  in  judging  by  appearances. 

D.  B.  W. 


THE  VOICES  OF  THE  NIGHT. 

B7  BBKBY   WADSWOBTB    LONOPBLLOW. 
WHtK  the  hours  of  day  are  numbtir'di 

And  the  voices  of  tbie  uight 
Wake  the  better  bouI^  that  klumber^d. 

To  a  boty  calm  delight. 

En  tbt  ei-eoing  lamps  are  lighted, 
And,  like  phantoms  grim  and  tall, 

Shadovn  from  ihe  fitful  Are-light 
EHdco  upon  the  parlour  wall, 

Then  the  forms  of  the  departed 

Enter  lit  the  open  door  1 
The  beloved  ones,  the  true-hearted, 

Come  to  visit  me  once  more. 

He,  the  younc  and  strong,  who  cherish 'd 

Noble  longingtt  for  die  strife, 
By  the  road-side  fell,  and  pensh'd. 

Weary  with  the  march  of  life  ! 

T>wy,  the  holy  ones,  and  weekly. 

Who  the  cross  of  suffering  wore. 
Folded  their  p.ilc  hands  to  meekly. 

Spake  witii  ui  on  earth  no  morel 
And  with  them  the  being  beauteous, 

Who  unto  my  youth  was  given. 
More  than  all  things  else  to  love  me, 

And  is  now  a  saini  in  heaven. 

With  a  slow  and  noiseless  footAtep 

Comes  that  messenger  divme, 
I^M  the  vacant  citair  beside  me, 

Xajh  her  gende  hand  m  mine- 
Anil  vhfl  sits  and  gazes  at  me, 

>X'  iih  iboae  deep  and  tender  eyes, 
Like  the  stars,  so  still  and  saint-like, 

l.4ioking  downward  from  the  skies. 
Vtler*d  not,  yet  comprehended, 

U  iIm  f pint's  voiceless  prayer; 
8*A  nbukes,  in  ble-isings  ended, 

Braiihing  from  those  hpa  of  air. 

ith  1  thoufh  oA  depmi'd  and  kntety. 

All  my  fsitrs  are  laid  aside, 
U  1  but  remember  only 

Suck  a»  they  have  lived  and  died. 


79 


THE  SLEEPING  BEAUTV  IN  OUR  TIMK. 

BY  WILLMM   JEBDAN. 

TuRKR  vn»,  ft  hundred  years  ago,  a  King  and  Queen,  who  had  »e«f 
'  irtnJ  children  grown  up  tfi  bo  men  and  women.  Some  lived  with 
ibiLiu  in  ihe  palace,  which  was  very  Hne  and  mo^niticent ;  but  their 
ddest  son,  who  had  married  a  HrincesH,  having  quarrelled  with  his  pa- 
Mats,  lived  in  a  house  with  her  not  far  otf ;  where  they  also  had  seve- 
rtl  children.  At  this  period  a  very  cnrious  circumstance  hnppened, 
which  bi  not  la  be  found  in  tho  newspapers  or  histories;  the  former 
bnng  fmr  le»  particular  and  authentic  than  they  are  now,  and  the  lat- 
ter liule  eUe  tlian  a  parcel  of  lies !  The  only  true  iwtice  we  can  And 
of  it  it  in  an  aadent  prophecy,  which  declared, 

"  Forty,  some  say»  will  be  a  year  of  wonder, 
Some  say,  a  year  of  calmness,  sume,  of  thunder ;" 

■d,  it  ia  remarkable  thiit  in  nature  and  pilitic^  both  wvre  right, —  ta 
yottr  orades  can  generally  be  explained  all  or  anyways, — for  there 
I  a  deaperate  long  and  hurd  fruut,  aud  a  thundering  war  vrith  Spain 
darini;  the  year. 

It  was  tu  this  frost,  and  not  to  fairy  agency,  that  we  owe  the  pheno- 
'  Mcnnn,  the  results  of  which  are  now,  for  the  6rHt  time,  about  to  be  re> 
coidvd.  On  one  of  the  day  H  when  an  entire  ox  wna  roasted  on  the  river 
Tliainea,  the  court  went  to  nee  the  cookery  and  sport ;  and  Hne  sport  it 
VHp  I  warrant  ye.  The  London  Kvcning  Post,  the  fJeneral  Evening 
Port,  the  St.  Jameft's  Evening  Post,  the  Go/rtteer,  the  Craftsman, 
ihr  Common  Sense,  the  Universal  Spectator,  the  Weekly  Miscellany, 
the  Daily  Advertiser,*  and  all  the  mighty  jnurtiaLs  of  that  era  describe 
it  M  a  glorious  spectacle ;  and  the  royal  party  quite  delighted  with 
the  «ot«rtainment.  Indeed,  so  merry  were  they,  what  with  cuts  from 
the  lirloiD,  and  with  plenty  of  Cognac  hranJy,  —  which  could  then  be 
dmnk  in  abundance,  ox  it  cost  no  more  than  three  half-crowns  a  gnl- 
toQ,  that  they  never  dittcovered  they  had  luat  the  PrinceM  Goosey  (so 
cslled  ffjr  6hortnfs^)  till  their  return  to  the  palace.  It  would  scent  aft 
if  il)  the  inferior  orders  had  partaken  largely  in  the  festivities  of  the 
CMUt ;  for,  niitwith standing  the  exprtionw  of  the  Lord  Maynr  and 
Sberid,  Culonel  de  Veil,  Justice  Paulson,  and  other  aetive  and  sa- 
nmt  migi^trvies,  their  wutchmea  and  beadlea,  not  a  trace  of  Her 
n«ral  Highness  could  ever  Ih;  found. 

The  mrstery  in  which  the  atfair  was  involved  has,  accordingly,  conti- 
Boed  tn  tfio  present  day,  when,  by  the  recent  return  of  the  Sally,  whaler» 
W  Hull,  to  p»rt,  from  a  voyage  to  the  Arctic  seas,  it  has  been  solved 
io  lb«  clearest  manner.  It  nppears  that  when  the  Sally  was  har- 
paoniiw  ft  irfaale,  the  firing  otf  the  harpoon,  and  the  spouting  and 
MnMn  of  the  animal,  shook  an  iceberg  of  very  peculiar  itha[>e,  so 
oacathat  it  fell  to  pieces,  and,  to  the  utter  ustunishment  of  the  crew, 

*  la  ma  of  thpw.  No,  A9K  (■*>*  v»  IVirget  wlietbar  llie  Cumraon  S«nMt,  or  the 
QafbiMB,  wv  Tnnjt  vitli  the  fallnvHn;  i>liMrraUons  in  sii  essay  (in  unhitiiin,  *>  Itut^ 
^faUkuA  t/  prult't  ^*«  (jreate^l  u  itint  trhuJt  itffrcu  tn  artuut  in  httmilitif.'*  M'cll 
liifbi  itw  nihor  of  the  "  Devil's  Walk "  lay,  "  l*ereant  qui  artte  no*  mutra  rfii- 
mar,"  whsn  he  wrote  that 

*'  Tho  devil'i  dsrliiur  sin, 
b  th«  finds  that  spa  humility." 


80 


THE   SLEEPING    BEAUTY 


disclosed  in  the  centre  the  singular  figure  of  a  young  lady,  in  a  small 
hull  p- petti  coot  of  hrocade  triniinod  with  Brussels  lace,  a  bodice  of 
silver  tissue,  and  her  liair  dressed  to  an  Immense  lieij^ht  nnd  floiring 
in  profuse  ringlets.  This  extraordinary  petrefaction,  a»  thev  thought 
it, — little  dreiiming  of  its  near  relatidiiship  to  the  Prince  una  Princess 
of  W^n/e*,  —  they  carefully  cut  out,  and  brought  on  board  the  Sally, 
where  the  gradual  thaw  soon  induced  KymptoniH  of  uiiiuiatinu.  The 
captain  of  the  Snlly  being  a  person  of  educHtion,  knew  what  it  was  to 
be  spell-bound,  as  w^lt  us  ice-bound;  and  wiih  the  sogiicity  of  a 
whaler,  immediately  depoxited  tlie  new-comer  in  the  most  quiet  and 
cinnfortnble  berth  which  his  cabin  afforded.  Keeping  it,  at  first,  at  a 
low  tem]>erature,  he  gradually  increased  it  as  tde  life  strengthened 
into  full  play ;  and  in  the  coarse  of  fourteen  hours  the  illustrious 
Goosey  n*as  restored  to  perfect  consciouanees  und  physical  elasticity. 

It  may  readily  be  snppoxed  that  her  early  conv^ernutiouK  with  the  j 
captain  were  odd  enough  on  both  slides,  und  ihat  neither  could  very  I 
well  comprehend  the  meiiniug  of  the  other.     In  »liort  the  seaman  ct>n- 
eidered  hit)  fair  prol^gce  to  be  insane,  and  the  Princess  functed  that  t\ie 
must  have  aM'diened  in  itnother  world,  bearing  «nme  slight  reaem- 
bliinces  to  that  she  had  left,  but  iiltogether  diH'ereiit  in  its  great  fea- 
tures nnd  varitJUH  conditions.     Having  ubtained   a  full  ^hip.  Captain 
Shoalsby  (we  hace  not  mentioned  his  name  befiire)  turned  his  pmw 
homeward;  and  it  is  from  the  then  comparatively  idle  log-book  uf  theJ 
Sdlly  that  we  copy  the  following  entries  ; — -  ^ 

*'  8  A.  M.  Lobscouss.  Wind  E.N.E.  moderate.  Conversed  with  the 
Princess,  as  she  styles  herself.  She  asked  wliether  I  knew  if  the  King 
had  returned  from  Hanover?  to  which  I  answered,  I  believed  not,  lui  J 
there  was  no  occasion.  '  But,  os  a  sailor/  she  observed,  '  you  can,  at  * 
any  rate,  tell  me  the  latest  neivs  of  the  immortil  Vernon,  and  how  the 
Spaniiih  war  in  carried  on  after  the  glories  of  Porto-Kico.'  To  this 
rlioddinotiLade  I  was  uhliged  to  plead  ignorance;  but  iiifonned  her  that 
General  Evtuis  had  returned  in  perfect  safety,  with  a  considerable 
number  of  disabled  Isle-of-Doggians ;  that  the  Cliristinos  and  Corlists 
bad  nut  yet  eniirely  settled  matters ;  and  that  the  glories  of  the  Penin- 
Hula  still  hung,  like  an  aurora  borealis,  arntmd  the  laurelled  brnw  of 
Wellington, — whose  name  I  presumed  she  had  mistaken  for  Vernon, 
aj  there  was  no  noticeable  individual  so  called.  The  poor  creature 
shook  her  head.  '  No  Vernon  !  '  idie  sighed  ;  *  you  might  as  well  tell 
me  there  is  no  Walpole,  —  no  premier  to  guide  the  destinies  of  Eng- 
land, and  guard  and  uphold  her  Pruteatant  throne ! ' — '  Truly,  ma'am, 
I  replied,  *  I  know  of  no  .luch  person.  As  for  a  premier,  we  have  had 
Lnrtl  Melbourne  since  the  Reform  Dill ;  but  they  say  that  he,  rutberthaii 
guard  and  uphold,  likes  to  deal  heavy  blows  and  sore  diKcoumgemenC 
on  the  Protestant  Church  ;  and  the  Queen,  God  ble&s  her!  does  not 
like  him  a  bit  the  worse.  Being  a  plain  s;ti]i>r  myself,  cun't  say  I  am 
a  judge  of  thrones  being  Protestant  or  llomisb.  Would  not  care  if  the 
binnacle  or  capstan,  there,  were  called  either  one  or  t'other,  so  be  it 
they  did  their  duty.'  —  *  Alas! '  exclaimed  the  lale  Icicle,  'alas  !  that 
the  good  Queen  Caroline  should  have  so  forgotten  the  prindplex * 

**  Signal :  aiiil  in  sight.  Went  on  deck  to  ascertain  her-  ^Uarmed 
by  a  fearful  scream  from  the  cabin  ;  rushed  down,  and  found  the  Icicle 
at  the  window  in  great  agitation.  'O!  captain,  for  heaven's  sake, 
hasten  to  the  retcue  of  these  wretched  creatures.  Dreadful  it  is  to  see 
them  on  the  lovely  blue  ocean  doomed  to  perish  in  the  raging  Hamcs* 


IN    OUK    TIMES. 


81 


l/ook  bow  the  smoke  and  6re  burst  fn>in  tlieir  fated  bark,  and  tbe 
lurid  cloud  hangs  over  them  tike  a  pali  to  cover  the  dead.  M)b  I  Laii- 
tm^h«Aten  to  tbeir  aid  !' — '  Pniy,  madam,  be  tximpoiied :  that  vesjiel,  I 
lake  it,  is  the  steamer  frum  Uiiinburi;h,  and  not  in  the  bli^btest  dan< 
gcr.'-*'  For  ahame,  air  I  to  attempt  thus  to  conceal  your  aputhy.  Wo- 
MaB.  and  Princess  as  I  am,  do  not  I  observe  there  is  not  a  sail  apou 
that  mixtjrahle  ship ;  that  she  is  driving  before  the  element  with  de- 
muQ  furc« ;  and  that  in  a  few  instanu  ulie,  and  all  she  contains,  must 
unfTvcaUy  perish.  No  fiend,  fur  letts  an  Englinh  Keaman,  could  look 
M  this,  and  nut  exert  hiu  utmost  to  avert  the  horrid  calamity.'  —  In 
riin  t  endeavoured  to  explain  to  H.H.H.  the  principles  of  the  steam- 
fOgioe,  and  itH  application  to  the  impulsion  of  veMelx.  Anger  took 
|mft«naiioa  uf  her,  and  she  viewed  me  with  obviouH  dih^rust  as  little 
oett«r  thim  a  murderer.  '  It  is  in  vain,'  she  finally  remarked,  '  that 
|Mi  try  to  inpofte  upon  me  with  such  monstroust  lie^  I  am  nware  that 
lib*  Auatran  Colonel  has  just  invented  a  machine  by  which  be  con 
im*  boaU  ap  the  Danube  agaitut  the  xtrcain  ;  and  that  he  hag  {^one 
•Jx  hundred  feet  in  twelve  minutett,  and  even  a  thousand  and  eighty 
fecC  in  Hiurteen  roinutea ;  bat,  wonderful  and  incredible  a&  thai  is, 
wkb  Urge  wheels,  bridges,  and  machinery,  you  would  have  me  believe 
that,  by  means  of  a  kettle  of  water  put  on  to  boil,  you  could  force 
fmt  ohipt  to  move  against  wind,  and  tide,  and  stream,  wherever  they 
vasb  ta  go.     Fie  !  to  treat  me  as  if  I  were  a  fool  or  simpleton.' " 

FnMB  ihii  time  the  Prince'^s  lost  much  of  her  confidence  in  Captain 
Vkmtidbjt  ftod  did  not  seem  to  believe  him  when  he  assured  her  he  was 
aatring  for  England,  or  that  an  England  existed  in  the  world  on 
vtiich  abe  bad  so  strangely  appeared.  "  If  so,"  lihe  inquired,  "  is  Frost 
Two*  orer?  has  Captain  Coram  got  up  a  suHicieiit  Kub»cription  for  a 
Fvandline  hospital  ?  is  Montague  House  fitted  up  for  the  reception  of 
«|MMrd  children  ?  and,  what  are  the  latest  accounts  of  the  invusinn  uf 
Kaw  York  by  the  French  Canadians  and  their  Indian  allies  r  Have 
tb»  ChicaacawB  been  firm  in  their  reHistance  with  our  ('olonists?  " 

"  With  regard  to  FroMt  Fair,"  said  tbe  Captain,  "  I  am  unable  to 
sArd  your  Royal  Highness  any  intelligence.  I  nuppiwe  it  must  have 
Im  pat  down  with  most  of  the  t*ther  fairs  about  I^ondon,  as  being 
h^^f  vicious  and  injurious  to  the  morals  of  tbe  lower  orders.  The 
Pkauidling  Uospital  is  a  noble  old  building',  and  is  Hurruunded  by  many 
■rw  aU«ct8,  and  splendid  squares.  About  Ciiptuin  Quorum  I  know 
MtUag,  BcTu  having  beard  of  him  in  the  vvlmlc-tishcry.  He  may  be 
I  Ttrf  good  man,  for  aught  I  can  apeak  to  the  contrary.  Montague 
Haoaa,  a>  I  have  been  informed,  is  the  British  Museum,  in  which, 
of  exposed  children,  there  ts  tlie  grandest  collection  in  the 
void  pf  books,  uf  Egyptiun,  Greek,  and  Roman  Antiquities,  of  Zoo- 
li^.  (I  myself  gave  tliem  the  jaws  of  a  sperm  wliale,  measuring  eighty- 
I  fiwl  four  inches,)  conchology,  and  all  other  ulugies  and  sciences, 

*  !■  !•  «oi!^J«oiured  thai  Hvr  Roynl  Highnru  tniiiit  hsre  l)«en  Involved   in  the 

~    ~    I "  AraJfnt,  of  which  the  followin^f  scntunt  is  pveD  id  the  jmirnsU  a(  tha 

I  thai  likviiiK  X-rvu,  m   it  were,  eiiourd   in  lU«  island  uliiidnl  lo,  tlia  Usd, 

r  ^«  caurinicn  of  the  bit  ertmt,  been  carried  out  t4i  wm,  and,  in  prac«u  of 

d  M  coni|Minrnt  portion  of  sa  icebei);  at  Spittb«rgen. 

'  Frgst  Fitir  sn  iilsnd  of  ic<^  with  aboat  k  dmen  of  meu  end   wocdto 

«ri4*d  frum  tlie  main  Mftainst  Bear  Oarden  Stain,  and  diwted,  to  their 

ijmi,  for  a  eocwtderaUe  time;  hut, at  last,  happily  tixiu)!  sfcninrt 

,  tbiiy  werr»  with  mudi  ditficuUy,  hy  the  help  of  plnnk*.  trot  nofe 

tba  vomsn  was  fnghteoed  iuio  nts."^i^n<^oa  £iv(unjf  Ptul, 


82 


THE   SLEEPING   BEAUTY 


astonishing  to  bebold.  It  is  worth  hundreds  of  thousands  of  pounds, 
and  un  Iiiatitutiou  for  tlie  nation  to  hv  pruud  of.  As  for  the  French 
Canadians,  and  their  Indian  allien,  and  all  that,  I  can't  tvlJ  what  to 
inakti  of  vuu.  Lord  Seatun,  and  Lord  Durham,  and  Sir  F.  Head,  and 
Air.  Poulett  Thompson,  and  Mr.  Mackenzie,  and  Mr.  Papiueau,  have 
been  having  a  row  in  both  Upper  and  Lower  Canada ;  but  tlie  French 
have  had  nothing  to  do  with  it ;  and,  os  for  New  York*  and  tlie  United 
States,  the  less  that  is  said  about  their  interference  the  better.  The 
Cfaicasaaws  are  extinct,  and  the  stripes  occupy  the  land  from  the, 
Atlantic  to  the  Pacitic." 

"  What  are  you  talkinj;  about  ?  "  said  the  Princcwi.  *'  It  was  hnt  thn 
other  day  the  King  of  France  sent  workmen  to  (juel)ec  to  work  tlie 
iron  mines  of  TroisRiviiTes.  What  are  the  United  States  ^  Wh^tara^ 
the  stri(>es?— what — ?  " 

"  Why,  the  mit^bty  independent  republic  of  North  Aniericn^  and 
its  national  colours^  with  nearly  fourteen  uiillious  of  people,  governed 
by  the  President ;  and  extending  over  a  territory  nearly  a^  vast  as  our 
own  K astern  Empire,  including  Afghanistan,  Candahor,  and  Caubul^  . 
and  all  the  countries  overrun  in  the  liLst  oimpaifcn."  J 

"  Are  you  mad, "  exclaimed  ilie  Princess,  "  that  you  name  the  Tery 
provinces  Just  conquered  by  the  victorious  Thanins  Kuuli  Kan,  and 
wrested  from  tlie  ^logul  for  ever  ?     Would  the  powerful  Nadir  Shab 

Eermit  an  European  to  set  foot  within  hin  dominions;  he  who  now,  on 
is  return  from  his  Oriental  triumphs,  threatens  E^ypt  on  the  one 
band,  and  the  Sublime  Porte  on  the  other.  Well  is  it  for  the  Grand 
Signur  that  he  has  concluded  a  peace  >vith  the  Emperor  of  the  Ro- 
mans ;  and  that,  in  the  event  of  u  Persian  war,  or  an  attack  by  the 
Russian  Empress,  he  mav  look  to  the  Swede  for  succour.  King 
Stunibluus,  and  Poland,  it  is  true,  can  do  little  ;  but  the  Ottomans  are 
much  comforted  by  their  treaty  with  the  Christinn  potentates,  which 
leaves  them  at  liberty  to  meet  the  threaUned  invasion  of  the  fumtida- 
blo  Kuuli  Kan.  Lord  Waldegrave,  too,  by  his  great  ubilitieSj  and  in- 
fluence »vith  Cardinal  Fleury,  will,  I  trust,  preserve  the  peace  with  the 
French  King." 

In  such  contradictory  discussions  did  foreign  affairs  engage  the  Cap- 
tain and  his  fair  passenger ;  and  it  was  impo8.sible  to  decide  which 
jiuszled  the  other  must.     If  the  lady  inquired  whether  the  Dey  of  Al- 
[^iers  had  invaded  Oraii,  she  vni&  answered  that  there  was  nu  Dey  of 
I  Algiers,  btit  the  country  udled  Algeria  was  u  French  colony,  and  that 
[there  wvie  no  captives  to  be  relieved  from  slavery  iu  the  Barbury  States. 
The  Spanish  wur  was  one  dreum  of  cross  purposes.    The  Captain  spuke 
of  Cabrera  and  Espurteru,  and  Don  Carlos  a  prisoner  ;  the  Princess  of 
the  expeditions  against  the  Spaniard  sailing  from  Bo&ton,  Newport, 
New  York,  and  other  of  our  colonies.     On  one  point  they  certainly 
agreed,  viz.  the  death  of  the  King  of  Prussia  in  June  ;*  hut  the  Prin- 

*  Another  oorkius  eoincidenca  occurs  in  referring  to  the  journttk  of  the  date  of 
•  ci0CDpl«t«  century  i^rt.  On  nppninf;  ttieiD.  the  rye  a  fttnirk  with  IiunfnutiunK 
for  the  death,  nod  aowunU  of  iho  fun«ml  of  a  Lady  *  '  *  Hastings, — in  tht;  one  case 
£.  and  ill  the  other  P.  The  Lady  E.  Haitinffcs,  who  died  at  LedstnnVf  waa  tb« 
lUufchter  of  Theophilut,  seventh  Ji^iirl  of  Huoliogdon,  and  Elizabeth,  co-heir  of 
Sir  John  Lewis,  Bart,  who  tiruught  large  Vurkshire  estates  into  the  uieicut  and 
iiotile  ramily  witJi  whnm  nlie  was  allied.  Her  rhnractur  appears  to  bavt  bobii  e^iiial 
to  her  hirih  ;  and  Oils  "■  mint  excellent  Indy  "  is  dtiscribed  as  huving  been  "  polito 
in  maiirien.  and  .i/re«ah)e  in  cimvcniaiiou  ,  sacred  hrr  regurd  to  frieoilAhip,  and 
atiiot  to  tbo  Ux  degree  her  eetuc  uf  boDotir.     What  is  iufiiiitely  above  all,  the  did 


IN   OUR   TIMES. 


83 


n»  meant  the  first  Kretlerick  William,  and  the  Captain  his  Mijpsty 
the  latest  Frederick  William,  for  whose  demise  we  are  now  in  mourn- 
iag.  Aft  for  the  Chevalier  St.  Geor^^?  having  resigned  the  cniwn  of 
Ba^aad  at  Ruine  to  hiH  son  Prinn*  CharlcH,  the  worthy  Captuin  could 
neiuter  make  head  nor  taiJ  of  it,  seeinj;  he  had  before  he  sailed  wit- 
aenird  the  marriage  procession  of  Queen  Victoria  and  Prince  Albert. 

The  Princess  had,  however,  by  her  consistency  so  for  orercome  hU 
•pinion  of  her  insanity  as  to  be  able  to  imliice  him  to  alter  bis  conrse 
vp  Channc],  for  the  cake  of  landinj^  her  at  London  ;  and,  as  the  Sally 
ocmred  the  chatk-clitf  Hhore»^  it  was  Hiion  shown  that  their  notions  of 
dmottic  affairs  were  as  widely  discrepant  as  those  on  external  rela- 
tiHM. 

"Ah !  "said  the  Princess,  with  a  tear  in  her  eye,  as  she  caught  a 
Tiew  of  Dover  Castle,  "  I  know  Mr.  Weller,  the  deputy -governor,  who 
will  indeed  be  rejoiced  to  welcome  bis  royal  mistress  lo  her  native 
Und." 

*•  ;\ffr.  Weller,  madam,"  observed  the  Captain,  '*  is  not  Ihr  govrruor. 
Mr-  Pickwick  i«,  and  Samivfll  is  his  servant-  The  old  gen-1-m-n  you 
mention  may  be  the  Dorer  stage-coachman." 

The  bewildered  Princess  could  only  shrug  up  her  shoulders  at  this 
perplexing  announcement,  but  expressed  a  hope  that  tliey  might  land 
MMi  enough  for  her  to  get  to  the  palace  and  dress  in  time  for  dinner  at 
two  o'dock.  If  later,  the  King  might  be  gone  to  some  ball  at  the 
Haymarket  theatre,  or  be  engaged  in  hia  usual  game  of  hasard  *  with 
khe  nubility  invited  to  sport  a  few  guineas  at  the  royal  table.  Besides, 
it  wsa  most  dangerous  to  attempt  to  traverse  the  suburbs  in  the  dark, 
IhwC  aa  tliev  nightly  were  by  f<H>tpads  and  highwavmen.  Nf>r  were 
the  stKOti  of  London  safer  ;  and  it  was  only  the  week  liefore  that  the 
pM  had  been  stopped  at  Kntghtsbridge,  and  robt>ed  of  the  Bath  and 
oriMdl  maila;  whilst  half  a  dozen  persons  had  been  stabbed  und  plun- 
■tervd  Id  Fleet  Street  and  the  Strand.  In  vain  did  the  captain  assure 
her  Royal  Highness  that  nobody  of  fashion,  and  far  less  royalty,  ever 
dined  now  o'  days  til)  eight  o'clock  ;  and  that,  in  consequence  of  tlie 
New  Police,  there  were  no  street  murders  (though  there  were  a  few  in 
prirate  dwelling-houses);  that  e%*en  Hounslow  Heath  was  cultivated 
fields,  and  Bagsnot  could  not  boast  of  a  single  highwayman ;  that  the 
Fire  Fields*  Chelsea,  were  Bclgrave  and  Eaton  Squares,  and  Chelsea 
Coounan  a  populous  town. 

On  landing  at  Greenwich,  her  Royal  Uighneas  wished  much  for  a 

pu^m,  Uxni  wenj,  and  walked  htunbljr  with  ber  God.  The  whole  Chriitian  relf- 
cion  vMMu-ly  pUtit«d  in  li«r  imuu  which  ma  mlirely  formed  and  fafthioiied  by  it. 
tier  Ik/*  hsd  chiHIx  Tor  ita  direction  two  grent  objects,  bow  she  miftbi  exalt  the 
flory  ot  Ood,  and  bow  dsnoastrate  her  good  will  uiwordi  mitn.  Her  IfentroluiL-e 
l»  MT  Ikllow  erMtnrcs  was  kucfa  as  th«  good  «njcel«  »rf  t>le«t  n-it>i,  warm  uid  ch^- 
liihiafc  wl^  and  unbounded.  ThouMods  Mid  t«nft  of  thnusandi  hu  tlie  nnnfoned 
»md  fHievvd,  nwnjr  hu  she  aorichod  and  advanced,  and  the  mllective  miiM  tif  man. 
ba4  daflf  had  ber  bleuinga  and  her  prajren." — Such  arc  portion*  of  th«  eulagiiim 
yMOMmead  at  her  death  upon  thia  exemplary  lady,  who  upon  hei  manors  of  I^ed- 
■kav,  Tboqiarch,  Collinghain,  Wbeldal«,  Wvke,  Sliadwall,  Burton  htdmoo,  &,& 
Ac  ancsad  numj  charity  achnds.  and  radnwrcl  nmaj  cbariUM,  teaTtntc,  aa  the  epi. 
t^Mbar  laadcmniiupiTuait,  ^  a  pattern  to  tuooeediog  i^p*  of  alt  that  *«  good, 
•U  aU  ikM'a  icrcat." 

•  •*  Laat  ni^t,  the  Lord  Harrinfrtvn,  the  Duke  of  Nswcwile,  the  Ihirfiiwa  of 
SldkaMnd,  tile  Earl  of  Albemarle,  I^rd  ViM-wint  Harcourt,  Aufciiatua  Schuh,  Eaq. 
Ac  |lay«d  a«  haaard  wtib  htt  Majcaty,  the  Duice,  and  the  Prinewses  "  —  A^mm- 
p^t^  pmrmgMpk^Jtntutff  1740. 

«8 


84 


TUB    SLEEPING    BEAUTY 


scdan-clmir,  and  hinted  ut  unc  of  John  TuU's  ncw^  pateot,  lo  which  an 
intlividual  might  be  carried  a  hundred  miles  in  a  nuy  t  The  Captain 
offered  a  huwi  or  a  cab,  but  adviKed  the  railroad  as  the  inu«t  rapid  con- 
veyance. Harint;  assented  to  this,  the  Princess  was  eM»jitea  to  the 
train,  and  what  language  coTild  conrey  her  utter  ainaxement  and  dis- 
may !  When  the  hissing  vajKiur  ascended,  the  inodiinery  rattled,  and 
(he  mass  of  carriages  began  to  movei  itlie  snnk  senselesii  to  the  bottom 
of  that  in  which  she  had  been  placed^  and  fur  u  while  became  as  lost  to 
perception  as  &he  had  been  during  her  century  of  incrustation  in 
the  conservative  ice  of  the  Pole.  Though  lier  trance  lasted  only  a  few 
miuutea,  her  journey  was  performed,  and  alie  awoke  to  consciousneu, 
and  a  renewal  of  terror  and  astonishment,  at  London  Bridge, — not  the 
Londun  Bridge  of  her  nieuiory,  with  its  iucumbranceH  and  mouldering 
buildings,  but  a  splendid  editice  spanning  the  flood  of  Thames  in  two  or 
tliree  prodigious  stridett,  whilst  immediately  iibove  a  greater  miracle  still 
presented  itself,  a  bridge  of  iron  !  and  hundreds  of  demon  steamers  were 
plying  in  every  direction,  some  of  wood,  some  of  iron,  and  all  crowded 
with  busy  thousands.  No  wonder  that  the  distracted  Princesn  went 
from  swoon  into  swoon  ;  for  it  was  impossible  to  conceive  that  she  had 
not  ^len  among  a  race  of  frightful  and  tiery  enchanters ;  and  well  was 
she  read  in  the  wickedness  of  the  goiUess  crew. 

It  tvould  be  an  endle&s  task  to  point  out  the  million  of  changes  which 
a  centurr  had  produced ;  but  it  may  not  unomusin^ly  continue  for  a 
space  the  object  endeavoured  to  be  slightly  illustrated  in  this  tJcetch,  if 
we  notice  a  few  of  the  incidents  which  have  occurred  to  us  on  the 
review  and  comparison. 

On  reviving,  and  glancing  at  a  journal,  the  Princess  saw  something 
of  the  new  Post-office  regulations. 

"  Ah !  "  said  she,  "  I  recollect  these.  Our  excellent  Postmaster 
General,  ever  attentive  to  the  public  good,  ordered  a  bug  to  he  made 
up  fur  liounslow  every  ui^^ht,  except  Sundiy,  during  the  period  of  the 
encampment  there,  and  the  Duke  of  Cumberland  highly  approved  of 
the  jdan.  But,  heaven  protect  us  !  "  she  added,  "  what  is  this?  Par- 
liamentary debates !  W  liy,  here  are  the  proceedings  of  Parliament, 
with  the  names  of  speakers, —  Lord  ^lelbourne.  Lord  Normanby,  the 
Duke  of  Wellington,  Lord  Brougham,  Lord  Lyndhurxt,  Lord  .Stanley, 
Lord  John  Rmutetl,  Sir  floliert  Peel,  Sir  James  Gruliam,  Mr.  Hume, 
l^Ir.  D.  O'Connell,  and  a  hundred  more.  ^Vhy  are  not  the  printers 
committed  to  prison  }  Where  are  now  the  winked-at  reports  of  the 
senate  of  great  Lilliput,  in  which  the  Urgs  and  Hurgolels  of  the  Cli« 
nabsj  and  the  lordly  Flurgos  and  Nardacs  had  their  speeches  surrepti- 
tiously and  mysteriously  given  to  the  people  ?  *  Dare  they  outrage  the 
privileges  of  Parliament  in  this  open  manner  ;  and  do  neither  the  court 
nor  the  country  pitrty  stand  up  for  their  constitutional  rights  ?  Aa  well 
might  they  give  up  franking — " 


*  The  pitriodioaLi  of  the  day,  trfaifh  ▼i>ntiired  no  far  to  infrinfie  the  nMulmp  or- 
ien  of  Parliament  agaJnftt  th«  prcAenre  of  *imiif>er*,  aoii  any  notice  of  their  pro. 
eeedlngs,  adopted  thit  tltin  ityUi  of  diiirutM,  aud  treated  tbetr  r«ader«  with  the 
fBMcha  of  the  HiirRO  Kurkhniffti,  tb«  fiurgo  Quadrert,  the  Uurgo  Basilaf,  the 
Huf^  Ayaladrof,  tlii>  Nanlac  Sncretarv  of  Smte,  Ui«  Nardac  Agrvl.  ftv.  Ac.  of  ths 
House  of  Hun^n ;  and,  in  the  lower  nousu,  alitu  thv  Ilnme  of  Clinahg,  with  ibe 
■mmImb  of  Uiu'fi;ol«>ns   Otimdahm,  Y«gmj.  and    Brunard .  the   Vrgw  Lettyltno^ 

L  Flematim,  and  Suudaby ;  Puhiul,  the   priuie  miniiter,  the  Qallict   M^erga,  and 

yaimiUr  euiuii)'nt<!«. 


m  OUR   TIMES. 


**  Franking  n  aboliahed,"  wliwppred  ruplntii  SlioaNby. 
"  Franking  abolished  !"  exclaimed  her  Rnyul  Highnest.     "  Poor  Cor- 
nelius MacGillicuddy,  then,  lived  before  hia  time  ;  fur  I  remember  be 
was  severely  punis)ieJ  for  furj^iig  a  frank,  which  the  House  declared 
to  be  a  hif^h  misdemeanour,  and  notorious  breach  of  privilege." 

*'  The  mutoms  of  countries  change  nunderfuJlr  in  a  century.  Are  the 
lotterieidrawn  daily  ?"—"  There  are  no  lotteries." — "Are  thewutchmeai 
and  beadles  effective?"—"  There  are  no  watchmen,  and  the  beodles  are 
a  remnant  differently  employed." — "  Are  the  chocolate  and  coffee-houaea 
fiUed  every  forenoon  with  the  loun{{era  who  have  not  to  attend  the 
levees  of  great  men  ?"— "  But  a  few  persona  kick  their  heels  in  the  ante- 
diainben  of  the  Bareaucmcy,  and  chucolate  and  cotfee-houses  are  no 
f  vore.  Clubs  have  superseded  them,  or  rather  their  last  remains ;  for 
ther  were  extinguished  before  by  the  altered  habits  of  the  people." 

SptasD,  the  Derby,  and  the  Oaks  for  1840  are  over.     We  need  not 

describe  what  they  are  now ;  but  it  is  curious  to  cast  a  look  back  to 

174(K  and  learn  that  an  act  to  discjiuraee  hor&e-rocing  occupied  the 

attention  of  Parliament ;  for  the  evil  had  risen  to  such  a  height,  that 

during  six  days  at  Epsom  six  races  were  run,  the  utmost  prize  being 

,  fartj  gaineos,  ond  the  amount  of  the  six  one  hundred  and  eighty  gui- 

[  neas  I     To  be  sure  there  was  cocking;  to  boot,  as  usual.     The  la&t  C-ock- 

f  ing  in  our  days  was  the  poor  fellow  who  tumbled  from  a  balloon  ;  and 

Iwhat  would  itave  been  th(iiii;ht  of  a  ballooto  if  such  u  thing  had  been 

mentioned  as  a  project  in  1740  ? 

And,  alas  I  where  are  our  Princess's  literary  contemporaries?  — 
where  Dryden,  and  Pupe,  and  Warburtun,  and  Thomson,  and  Alaliettf 
"—the  latter  with  their  masques  for  her  royal  race,  and  Cibber  with  his 
birth-day  odes,  and  Rich  with  his  pantomimes,  and  Swift  with — ? 
What  Swift  was  with  we  Imve  reserved  for  a  bonne  houcke.  It  is  thua 
ttecorded  in  the  news  from  Ireland  : — 

'  Dublin,  July  5. — Lust  Tuesday  being  the  anniversary  of  the  Battle 

of  the  Buyoe,  in  1690,  when  the  glorious  King  Williitm,  of  immortal 

memory,  defeated  the  late  King  James,  and  put  his  army  to  flight,  the 

I^HZQe  was  ubi^erred  all  over  this  city  with  the  greatest  rejoicings  ever 

Ptaown   upon  this  occdsion.     The  ftev.  Dr.  Swift,  D.S.P.D-  from  his 

lp«at  love  uf  liberty,  hud  the  lurgest  bonfire  ever  seen  in  this  city, 

made  of  a  thick  tree,  olwut  forty  feet  high  (which  was  erected  near 

the  watch-house  in  St.  Kevin  Street,  as  bcintj:  the  broadest  and  most 

;  open  part,  to  prevent  the  Hames  reaching  th«  houses),  with  many  burs 

[>B&d  scatfolds,  whereon  were  erected  many  pitch  and  tar  barrels;  round 

Ithe  bottom  of  the  tree  were  large  quantities  of  horse  and  other  iinimal 

llmnn^  covered  with  furze,  strewed  over  with  orange-coloured  flowem, 

nrliidi  made  o  most  beautiful  appearance.    At  nine  in  the  evening  the 

Ifire  was  lighted,  which  appenreu  like  a  burning  pyramid.     The  Dean 

Lgive  a  handsome  sum  to  the  populace  to  drink  the  *  Glorious  and  Im- 

[siorta]  3Iemory  of  King  William,  who  rescued  these  Kingdoms  ham 

I  Slavery  and  Arbitrary  Piiwer,'  which  was  drunk  with  great  cheerful- 

^fieis  by  all  the  people  present,  whose  number  was  very  great;  aud  the 

sight  concludeii  nith  the  greatest  demonstrations  of  joy  and  exprea- 

aions  of  loyalty." 

This  perishable  pile,  bettow'd  by  Swift 
To  Nassau's  honour,  is  a  greater  ipft 
Thau  if  a  senate  its  decree  should  pass 
To  bid  him  breedie  in  animaied  bmss. 


.-.   TIMES. 


-»  -  _-.  .  1  ziyve, 


.    r  rirlous  matter  for  reflec- 

-  -.-eJ  in  other  respects  is  too 

.  -..--lie.  murders,  and  banded 

. .    ..  vs.    In  England,  tlie  re- 

:  ■_;<  ot  expression  is  strikin<r, 

.^-  _:  M.  :.-i  the  press.   The  contrast 

,.  .  iiost  Striking  feature.    Cor- 

■ -z  :iau'nms  beyond  l)L'lief;  nnd 

~  •   .-^rried  into  effect  defy  the 

-  -..u:'!;  up  by  dozens  at  Tyburn, 

,-,     h.il  when  carried  to  Surgeons' 

.  .    :- ..::;ht  him  to  life  again  ;  and  of 

-.  ■   '•:\  handed  on  the  same  day  by 

>f"urse,  being  rescued  from  them 

.     .   ::-.e  gallows  by  his  armed  nsso- 

tf  Inrifd.     B.  Brigga,  for  marry- 

.r:U  ill  the  hand  ;  and  (listen,  ye 

.T  navy)  the  journals  exult  over 

.  ..  -vlio  hud  absconded  with  the  re- 

-  :,  '.J.  at  the  age  uf  about  seventy 

.   .-^.v  of  three  hundred  lashes  at  the 

..--u  uhii'h  be  would  receive  in  full 

■-  \.A\  improved  since  such  au  in- 
.'.It'. 
.  :  aJi'ii  d'csprit,  are  betraying  us 
.  -c  I'xcept  by  stating,  in  justice  t<» 
.  .»:  isr  above  our,  in  some  respects, 
.  vv*.  ii>rporation8,  companies,  noble- 
.-.  t..  r.mksand  classes  gave  profusely 
.;.v  M'ason.  And  to  conclude — 
v>t.  st'ems  to  have  been  the  only  one 


.....    -i  i>>  M'illiam  Walker,  of  Colonel  Rey- 

,    fivt   (hiar»is,  uiid  Svryvaut  Kvan!>,  uf 

'  t     n'i;iiiifiit,   liuviii^  bevii  uiailc  to  bis 

...rwi  liihLf.H,  —  viz,  three  liuiulreil  (rom 

I  -.,1  Lviiiis  is  iiftiTwiird!!  (i>  III-  ilnuiiiiird 

.    ■  «  (-rime  in  i-ai>iiiU  leiterM  atiixed  to  tiis 

».  x-i;-:!)!'!!!  of  KiKit  (iimnls  wBS  miisti'red  it 
.  t^v>i  .ilnuit  M'Vfiity,  nveived  hiii  first  puy- 

. ,'  .'  M'x-rity,  inimiiiiiit  tn  liiK  scnteiire  at  a 
.  •  -..'f  iviHiwiiy's  pay  iilaive  nine  years,  ajjo. 
..■  .■.  iViTi'iit  tiiriin,  ami  to  l>e  (iriiiiiiiivd  out 
\.  I'l  .iK'iit  Ills  uixk.—  fff-nniry  'ii>/. 

.  «   .i-z   three  liiiinlretl  Kislii-s  mi  tlie  [iiinitle 

.  .'.H-  >-i>iM't-ii):ini:il,  for  riiiiiiiii^  j'nmi  hiii 

.,!»  I'l   llie  ii'iuj'jtriy,   and  wiis  urteririinis 

I  •.»ir-.:.i;e  with  a  halter  about  liis  iit-tk. — 


h 


STANLEY   THORN. 

ST   TUK    AUTUOn  Or   "  VALBNTINB  VOX. 


CBAPTXR   XVltJ. 
In  wluch  a  poiat  oTKinie  interest  U  argued  at  lilcbmond. 

Wrbv  Rob  beard  that  General  Johnaon  Iiod  called,  his  indignntion 

-Bs  nceftsive.  He  was  Id  the  house  at  the  very  time,  nay  all  tbe  time 
the  General  u'lu  there;  and  therefore  could  not  but  express  iii  tbe 
wvmett  terniii  his  nentte  of  the  extremely  ungeiitlemanlike  conduct  of 
bit  fellow-serrant  William,  who  knew  that  the  most  direct  inlimationg 
bad  been  given,  that  when  tlie  General  called  be  wished  to  have  tbe 
boooor  of  letting  him  out.  He  was  conscious  of  this,  quite  conscious ; 
>iid  yeC,  bavin^  taken  up  tbe  General's  cardj  and  become  thereby  cer- 
tain of  its  being  the  General,  this  slave  of  passion  returned  to  the 
kitchen,  in  which  Bob  and  the  cook  were  refreshing  themselves  witb 
cold  chicken  and  &hort  cakes,  and  never  mentioned  a  single  syllable 
baTing  reference  to  the  General  until  he  had  actually  departed  !  Tbia 
Bob  beld  to  be  a  dereliction  of  principle,  of  a  character  so  monstroui 
that  it  was  witb  extreme  ditBcuHy  that  he  withheld  that  degree  of 
prompt  chastisement  to  which  he  conceived  tbe  delinquent  entitled. 
His  pliilosuphy,  however,  imparted  strength  to  his  forbearance,  and 
eventually  caused  him  to  be  content  with  administering  a  grave  expos- 
tnklinn,  to  the  justice  of  which  tlic  cook  promptly  subscribed  ;  for  that 
amiable  person  had  an  ardent  aflection  for  Bob,  —  an  affection  which 
msnife^ted  itself  cliieHy  in  this,  that  she  reserved  for  him  excluHively 
all  those  delicacies  of  which  she  knew  him  to  be  strikingly  fund, 
wbtcb  WBS  a  monopoly,  a  Hpecies  of  favouritism,  of  which  WiJlium  did 
by  no  meanfl  approve ;  for,  as  he  had  an  ardent  affection  for  the  cook, 
it  rendered  him  very  uncomfortable.  It  is  to  this,  and  to  this  aloiic^ 
that  bis  highly  reprehensible  conduct  on  the  occasion  in  Question  must 
be  attributed.  He  was  jealous—  in  the  tenderest  sense  jealous  ;  and, 
albeit  tbe  object  of  his  love  was  extremely  tyninnicol,  and  treated  him 
with  every  unladylike  indignity,  when  he  saw  her  and  Bob  thus  enjoy- 
iag  thcmaelrei  with  the  short  cakes  and  chickens,  the  spirit  of  revenge 
taafc  poMeaaion  of  bia  soul  bo  securely,  that  it  was  witb  a  feeling 
of  intenae  satisfaction  he  announced,  when  the  General  bad  left,  that 
t^  General  had  been.  This  feeling  wa^,  however,  short-lived ;  for 
while  the  cook  laboured  zealously  to  prove  to  him  how  utterly  until  he 
waa  in  consequence  to  be  in  any  respectable  kitchen,  Bob  was  engaged 
ia  pbiloaopbioilly  showing  that  bis  behaviour  n-as  beneath  the  true 
dually  of  a  man,  which  bad  a  very  powerful  effect. 

Stjudey  no  sooner  returned  than  Amelia  explained  to  him  with  fecl- 
wpk  of  delight  that  Alius  Johnson  was  the  lady  wlinm  he  had  rescued  ; 
Cms  tbe  General  had  called  with  a  warm  heart  to  thank  him  :  and  that 
he  bad  prmniscd  to  ui^e  his  influence  uith  the  Captain  in  their  favour ; 
all  which  imparted  great  satisfaction  to  Stanley,  who,  however,  felt 

re  than  he  expreued. 

"  I  wonder,"  said  he,  "  how  the  General  found  me  out." 

*•  His  servant,  it  apoeam,  knew  ymi." 

"  WrII.  I  am  glad  tW  he  has  called,  becauscj  knowing  the  family 


88 


STANLEY   THORN. 


it  will  be  pleasant  fbr  joa ;  and  I  appreciate  his  kindness  in  offering  to 
nusa  with  yocr  father;  but  rely  upon  it,  Amelia,  he  will  soon  come 
ronod  without  the  mediatinn  of  friends ;  and  perhaps  it  would  hare 
been  qnite  as  well  to  let  him  in  his  own  way  pet  over  his  obstinacy." 
"  Nay,  my  tore,  do  not  use  a  term  so  hanth." 

"  Why,  what  other  term  can  be  so  applicable?  What  but  obstinacy 
is  it  ? — ^efT  obbtinacv  ? " 

*'  Fie.  Stanley !     rtemcmber  he  is  my  father  !  " 
'*  Well,  well,  my  good  girl,  1  'II  say  no  more. — Oh !  by  the  Uy, 
WormwvU  wanta  me  to  dine  with  him  to-day.   WUl  yoa  gire  me  leave 
to  go  ?  " 

*'  Give  you  leave!  "  said  Amelia,  with  a  smtle. 
'*  Why,  iif  course.     I  cannot  presume  to  go  without.    I  told  him  that 
you  ruled  me  with  a  rod  of  iron,  and  that  therefore  your  permisuoa 
must  first  be  obtained." 

Amelia  was  rather  pleaned  with  this  idea, — she  thought  it  quite  ori- 
ginal,— and  playfully  said,  that  as  such  was  the  cose,  if  he  promised  to 
be  good,  he  might  go,  for  which,  of  cimrse,  he  felt  grateful  ;  and,  well 
knowing  how  little  it  required  to  delight  that  gentle  creature,  expressed 
his  gratitude  with  appropriate  humility,  and  then  summoned  Bob,  fur 
the  purpose  of  giriug  him  instructions  to  take  the  horses  down  tu  Ep- 
som in  the  moruing. 

With  these  inatructiooK  Bob,  of  counie,  was  highly  pleased  ;  and  in 
the  morning  he  accordingly  litarted  ;  and  at  about  the  same  time  General 
JohoHon  set  off  with  the  view  of  perfiimiing  his  promise  to  Amelia. 
The  General  bad  in  the  interim  formed  his  jiian.  When  he  proposed 
to  himself  the  attainment  of  any  object,  be  would  carry  the  point,  if 
possible,  by  storm ;  but  being  an  excelleot  tactician,  and  knowing 
Captain  Juliffe  suftciently  well  to  know  that  with  him  his  favourite 
mode  of  attack  would  not  succeed,  he  had  made  up  his  mind  to  accom- 
pliU)  the  thing  by  stratagem,  althnugh  he  preferred  the  stunning  prin- 
ciple much.  He  appeared  to  feel  that  his  reputation  was  at  suke  in 
this  matter ;  and  it  was  indeed  one  of  his  chief  characteristics  that 
whenever  he  undirtook  to  perform  a  task  for  another,  he  felt  more 
deeply  mortified  in  the  event  of  a  failure  than  the  person  whom  he  se- 
nerou'xly  intended  to  serve.  It  was  hence  that  he  liad  studied  wis 
course  of  proceeding  in  this  case  ao  deliberately  ;  and  as  the  result  of 
that  Mudy  was  to  c(»>ivince  him  that  he  must  act  with  great  caution 
upon  tilt*  Cuptaiu'tt  pride,  he  resolved  to  make  it  appear  that  he  enter- 
tained the  mo>t  friendly  fedincs  towords  Stanley,  and  to  show  that  his 
noble  fcpirit  rendered  hiui  worthy  not  only  of  the  affection  of  Amelia, 
but  of  general  esteem  and  admiration,  well  knowing  how  powerfully 
Bttw  are  inHueuced  by  the  opinions  of  those  who  form  tlie  M>cial  circles 
in  which  they  move,  and  how  easily  favourable  prepovseutious  are  llius 
cr*»at«l,  lUid  udvtTHti  prejudices  deMroyed. 

iMi  arriving  tit  Kiclinioud,  the  General  wos,  as  uitual,  received  most 
•.xirdiatly.  Tlu<  ("uptiun  in^jirtted  u|ion  his  diuiug  with  them,  of  course, 
aud  equiilly  of  cuurHe  the  General  consented,  hut  conversed  upon  none 
t»ut  e|>livuu>ral  topics  until  they  had  dined,  when  he  tliought  it  correct 
to  tMwh  with  CUV  Upon  that  jwiint  whicli  he  felt  himself  then  more 
lltaa  ^y*r  hound  to  carry,  and  therefore,  much  to  the  delight  of  Mrs. 
•Mifti  wh\i  indulged  in  occasional  exclamations  of  joy,  proceeded  to 
wImv  all  the  vircuuistance*  connected  with  the  perilous  position  of  bia 
dhuif^ii  |iJtiA|t  oare  to  paint  the  rescue  in  colours  the  most  attractive  ; 


STANLEY   THORN. 


89 


and,  kaviof^  set  Uw  CapUin  in  the  right  train  oF  thoaght,  and  drawn 
tears  Hoai  the  eyea  of  his  affectioiiute  lady,  he,  with  admimble  tact* 
waved  the  subject  nntil  he  and  the  Captain  were  alooe,  when  it  was 
vjtli  great  caation  returned,  but  with  much  more  confidence  on  the 
part  of  the  General*  who  saw  that  lie  had  already  made  a  favuurable 
mpmaMoo. 

"  What  a  pity  it  is/'  said  he,  after  a  pause,  during  which  the  Cap- 
tain appeurrd  to  be  lo»t  in  a  reverie, — '*  wliat  a  pity  it  is  you  are  not 
DciJrd  to  that  young  man.  I,  ctf  course,  should  be  pleased  if  yon 
I,  ta  I  am  pluced  in  rather  un  uwkwurd  position;  for  I  candidly 
COofeM  to  you  that  there  ure  indeed  very  few  whom  I  esteem  more 
'  fairly  than  him;  but,  inde[>endeiitty  of  that  consideration,  upon  my 
hoCHMir  I  think  that  you  have  held  out  now  quite  lung  enough.  I  nm 
aware  that  these  fugitive  murriuges  are  very  seldom  productive  of  bap- 
piacna  ;  but  I  must  s&y  that,  as  there  is  now  every  prospect  of  this  being 
an  exception  to  the  general  rule,  you  will  not  act  witn  wisdom  if  yuu 
treat  them  too  harsthty." 

**  General,  when  I  rtpeak  to  you  I  speak  not  only  to  a  man  of  sense 
sad  judgment,  but  to  one  who  !»•  a  fntfier,  and  who  poasettea  a  father's 
fi'elingft.  I  therefore,  with  coulidence,  put  it  to  yoUj  how,  undi;r  the 
■elf-tune  circumstances,  would  you  have  acted  f  " 

**  DoabtleM,  precmeiy  as  you  have  :  nay,  perhaps  with  a  greater  de- 
glM  (xf  harahnesK.  I  do  not  believe  that  I  should  have  been  quite  to 
tnoqutl.  But,  then,  in  our  own  cases  we  appear  to  be  incapable  of 
forming  a  correct  judgment.  We  ought  not  to  act  upon  our  own  im- 
puUeit  alone;  we  ought  to  be  guided  by  the  calmer  judgment  of 
vlhen ;  our  own  feelings  ore  too  warm,  too  acute,  tu<»  one-«idtid  to  al- 
low US  tu  do  justice.  If  any  young  dog  were  to  run  away  with  my 
px\  1  should  rare,  and  storm,  and  threaten  to  blow  out  his  brains,  no 
itoabt ;  but  tiien,  I  should  look  upon  any  other  man  who  roved,  and 
■(■rmed,  and  threatened,  under  similar  circumstances,  as  being  un- 
wise) We»  therefiire.  ought  not  to  depend  upon  our  own  Jiidguient 
ia  Hieh  a  case  as  tlm.  It  is  perfectly  sure  to  be  perverted.  We  ought, 
rather,  to  be  guided  by  those  who  have  the  power  tu  foel  all  that  we 
fird*  but  whose  judgment  is  not  warped  by  the  immetliatc  opertLtion  of 
those  feelings.  But,  what  are  the  chief  points  of  that  youug  man's 
character  tu  which  you  object  ?  " 

**  His  youth,  and  inexperience:  his  utter  ^vant  of  that  knowledge  of 
tha  world  which  is  ao  essential  to  the  pursuit  of  a  prosperous  and 
■trictJr  hontHjralile  course  through  lU" 

*•  Exactly  :  the*  very  iraints  to  which  I  should  object.  My  girl 
ihciuld  nut,  with  my  coiueiit,  marry  any  man  who  had  not  suHicient 
experience  to  reiUKt  the  temptations,  and  to  ward  off  the  dazzling 
dia^frne  of  the  vicioutt.  IJut,  what  would  you  say  to  me  if  a  young 
fiiUiyw  without  this  ex|>erience  were  clandestinely  to  marry  my  girl, 
aad  I  were  to  hold  out  as  you  do,  what  would  be  your  advice  to 
•ef  " 

"  1  should  certainly  advUe  you  to  hold  out  still,  that  he  might  feel 
that,  aa  his  wife  had  made  a  sacrifice  of  all  for  him,  he  was  bound  to 
cherish  her  witli  tenfold  tenderness." 

"  Very  good — very  good.  I  should,  then,  think  it  excellent  advice, 
aad  should  fidluw  it,  no  doubt ;  but,  if  I  did,  what  besides  should  I  he 
4anic?     Why.  Uyinu  the  foundation  of  the  defeat  of  the  very  object  1 

rm  promiacuoiift  friend^iips; 


miui 


90 


STANLEY   TRORH. 


1 


drivlDg  him  io  the  way  of  every  species  of  temptation  ;  driving  him 
pell-mell  into  the  haunla  of  vice  and  villainy  ;  for,  who  can  expect  a 
young  fellow  like  that  to  be  always  at  home?  He  will  go  out,  and 
ought  to  go  out ;  but  when  he  does,  where  is  he  to  go  ?  What  con- 
nexions is  he  likely  to  form  ?  who  are  likely  to  be  his  associates,  when 
fuU  of  blood  and  npirit^  he  has  the  means  of  indulging  in  every  extra- 
vagant pleasure  ?  And  then,  his  wife,  —  what  is  she  to  do  during  his 
absence?  deserted  by  her  friends,  becauite  spumed  by  her  relatives: 
no  one  to  converse  w-ith,  no  one  to  visit,  no  one  in  whom  she  can  wiUi 
safety  confide.  It  is  true —  very  true,  that  she  ought  to  have  thought 
of  this  before ;  but  then,  she  didn't  think  of  it :  she  rushed  into  this 
position,  and  there  &lie  is !  It  is  also  true  that  she  ought  to  consider 
herself  but  justly  punished  for  her  disobedience  ;  but,  Captain,  as  men 
of  the  world,  you  and  I  well  know  it  to  be  unsafe,  to  sny  the  least  of 
it,  to  punish  a  young  and  beautiful  woman  too  severely  in  this  ivay. 
Besides,  we  ought  to  take  into  consideration  that  all  the  punishment 
in  such  a  case  falls  uitou  her,  which  is  not  tlie  correct  thing,  by  anv 
means.  You  would  not  wish,  I  am  certain,  to  be  undnly  severe  with 
her  ;  you  would  not  wish  to  stand  as  a  barrier  between  her  and  happi- 
ness. 1  feel  quite  convinced  that  you  never  wished  to  do  this,  and  yet 
is  this  the  very  thing  you  do.  I  should  have  done  in  every  respect,' no 
doubt,  precisely  a»  you  have;  but  I  think  that  after  a  time  I  should 
hove  been  induced  to  feel  that  I  was  thereby  defeating  the  very  object 
I  wished  to  attain.  Ndw,  I  never  yet  founa  you  unreosonable.  I  am 
not  a  man  to  flutter  ;  you  will  acquit  mc,  I  am  sure,  of  any  desire  to 
do8o;  hut  I  never  knew  you  stubbornly  to  repudiate  any  rational 
view.  It  is  hence  that  I  now  feel  quite  sure  that,  if  vou  look  at  this 
matter  again  calmly,  you  will  be  as  well  convinced,  as  I  plainly  confess 
that  I  am,  that  you  will  not  be  doing  your  duty  as  father  if  you  stern- 
ly hold  out  after  this. 

"  General,  I  need  not  assure  you  that  my  only  object  in  holding  out 
has  been  to  secure  eventually  my  poor  girl's  happiness.  God  ble^8lleT  I 
I  love  her  as  fondly  as  liefore.  Nay,  she  seems  to  be  even  more  dear 
to  me  than  ever." 

"  I  believe  it.  I  know  it.  I  feel  it.  Forgive  her :  forgive  them 
both.  She  is  a  good  girl,  and  he  well  deserves  her.  He  treats  her,  n 
he  ought,  with  the  most  affectionate  tendemess." 

*'  I  am  not  sure  of  that." 

*'  I  am — perfectly  sure.  Tlie  intense,  the  artless  fervour,  with  which 
she  assured  me  that  such  was  the  fact,  renders  it  impossible  for  me  to 
disbelieve  it.  Receive  them,  then.  Come,  you  have  no  wish  to  tor- 
ture her.  Be  reconciled.  And — mark  my  words.  Captain, — they  will 
be  happy,  most  happy,  the  happii>st  pair  that  ever  lived." 

"  If  1  were  sure  of  that " 

"  Br  sure  of  it !  make  up  your  mind  to  it.  Be  sure  of  this,  sIm, 
that  it  rests  with  you  whether  they  are  happy  or  miser-ihle.  Don't  lei 
them  live  as  if  they  were  outcasts  of  societv.  Don't  drive  that  youth 
to  seek  an  exciting  change  of  scene  among  blacklegs  and  touvm.  L«t  him 
feel  that  you  care  for  him,  and  he  ^vill  care  for  you.  Let  him  feel  that 
he  has  some  one  with  whom  he  can  advise.  Let  them  both  he  restored 
to  the  position  they  onght  to  occupy.  Let  them  both  feel  that  in  yoa 
they  have  a  father  indeed.  By  Jujiiter,  sir,  you  'U  do  wrong  if  yoa 
continue  to  close  your  doors  agiiinst  them.  Cnme,  soy  you  will  receivo 
them  i  say  you  will  meet  them   at  my  house:  that,  perliaps,  wtU  be 


4 


STANLEY    THORN. 


01 


bKtcr,  for  I  know  him  to  be  a  bigh  spiriteU  dog,  who  is  not  Diuch 
cnMDMRed  of  humJlitT.  and  1  respect  him  the  more  ;  fur  it  affords,  in 
mj  vj««r,  an  addltionul  proof  tliat  he  takes  bii  stand  solely  upon  the 
btmourable  character  of  his  intentions.  C^me,  let  me  arningu  it.  Don't 
pre  me  an  ons^'er  now.  Sleep  upon  it.  Turn  it  well  over  ia  your 
mind :  weigh  every  circumatauce  deliberately  and  calmly,  and  then  let 
99  know  your  decision." 

Tbii  the  Captain  most  willingly  promised  to  do.  He  was  even  then 
pmared  to  decide,  hul  the  General  would  not  receive  his  answer :  hu 
unKted  apoo  the  propriety  of  a  littlu  more  reflection,  although  be  by 
no  means  cunceiveJ  it  to  l>e  absolutely  necessary,  and  sotm  afti^r  left* 
n  the  perfect  cunviction  that  the  object  propust^l  hud  been  attained. 


GR AFTER    XIX. 

Stanley  aiMt  Bob  purchate  some  experience  at  Epsom. 

It  WW*,  perhaps,  very  voin,  if  not  very  prcsumptnonB,  to  speculate 
Jrcply  upon  tlie  Mibject  without  data;  but,  if  any  purely  patiiotic 
member  of  the  Commons  were  to  more  for  n  return  of  nil  the  money 
lost  lUid  won  on  the  Derby,  »uch  return  would  be  a  document  of  ex- 
Czsordinary  interest,  and  one  which,  in  the  nature  of  thing's,  would  go 
far  towmnu  stunning  the  world.  With  the  aid  of  a  few  highly  accnnt- 
pliaiied  calculating  boys  in  full  practice,  the  thing  might  be  easily  got 
at;  for  tbey  would  only  have  two  di.stinct  classes  to  separate  —  the 
wisnen,  and  the  loserB,  —  to  get  on  as  fa«t  an  could  well  be  expected; 
wlitle  they  would  clearly  derive  very  material  assistance  from  o  know- 
ledge of  the  fact  that  twenty  sporting-characters  may  bet  to  the 
■BMwt  of  twenty  millions,  without  one  of  them  winning  or  losing  a 

pMRld. 

But,  apart  from  the  high  consideration  having  reference  to  the  ac- 
tsal  d^acorcry  of  the  amount^  it  seems  abundantly  clear  that,  although 
Id  *  Bominal  sense  they  who  are  deep  in  the  science  of  betting — for  a 
tonee  It  has  indisputably  become,  —  have  it  hollow;  the  greatest 
aoMVunt  of  money  is  actually  won  from  the  brilliant  supertiaal  pro- 
temon  ;  it  being  a  striking  truth,  and  one  which  no  sort  of  sophistry 
can  smother,  that  in  betting — although  it  Is  not  so  in  music,  ^  an  im- 
perfect tluirp  makes  the  niiKit  perfect  flat. 

When  the  mind  in  brought  to  bear  mtb  due  weight  upon  the  varied 
nmificatioii^  of  this  interesting  science,  it  wilt  be  found  to  be  one  of  so 
much  eicrllence,  per  se,  that,  although  it  may  be  even  now  pretty  well 
tkttgbt  at  our  Universities,  it  will  appear  to  be  rather  strange  in  the 
abttract  that  iirixes  should  nut  have  been  established  as  well  fur  thut  us 
for  Greek  and  mathematics.  This  might,  perhaps,  in  conseijuence  of 
tt*  immediate  proximity  to  Newmarket,  obtain  in  the  first  instance  at 
Cwnbridge  ;  fur,  altx-tt,  every  Cambridge  man  now  may  be  said  to  pos- 
ses a  foir  knowledge  of  the  elements  of  the  science,  that  knowledge 
ia  demrly  inxutticient  to  induce  a  correct  appreciation  of  ttH  beauties,  or 
to  goide  a  spoiling  character  out  of  that  attractive  labyrinth,  into 
which  ardent  tyros  are  too  prune  tu  rush.  How  admirable  is  it  to  see 
s  strictly  scientific  sporting  ch.inicter  making  up  his  book!  As  a  grocer 
iMulucts  a  tronaactiuD  nf  barter,  as  n  high-toned  attorney  standing 
Mdly  upon  the  legilitnate  integrity  of  his  principles,  makes  out  an  un- 
txaable  bill  of  costs,  to  cover  with  comfort  the  sums  received,  so  he 


M 


STANLEY  TBORN. 


weighs  every  item  agnin  and  sgnin  with  a  perfectly  nninterceptible' 
view  to  its  bearing  upon  the  general  balance.  Nor  is  it  necessary  fur 
him  to  be  a  judge  of  horse-Hefih.  By  no  means.  He  Hpurt»  his  money 
safely  to  the  extent  of  tens  of  thousands  mthout  seeing  one  of  the 
horses  that  are  entered ;  be  bets  upon  credit,  the  credit  uf  those  who 
bet  before  him  :  the  exercise  of  his  on*n  individual  judgment  is  alto}^* 
ther  snporurngatory :  he  gires  and  takes  the  odds  in  the  dark ;  but, 
oh  I  what  a  highly-enh'ghtened  darkness  is  bis  I  And  in  thift,  perhaps, 
consists  the  cliief  beauty  of  the  science-  If  a  horse  be  the  favourite  at 
Tattersall's,  be  is,  in  consequence,  the  favourite  all  over  the  world,  if 
even  he  sliould  have  but  three  legs.  His  [ledigree  is  nothing:  his 
name  is  up.  He  is  the  favourile  f  That  is  held  to  be  sufficient  by  J 
regular  sporting  characters,  from  the  highest  to  the  lowest ;  from 
those  who  take  six  to  four  in  thoufumds,  to  those  who  take  three  to 
two  in  fourpenny  pieces. 

Now  Stanley's  knowledge  of  this  science  was  extremely  snperficial.  I 
He  had,  indeed,  been  enlightened  by  Sir  William  to  a  certain  extent: 
be  had  had  his  eyes  sufficiently  opened  to  see  his  way  with  perfect 
distinctness  into  a  hole,  but  by  no  means  sufficiently  opened  to  see  his 
way  out  again;  which,  when  an  individual  is  to  he  fleeced,  is  a  far 
more  ingenious  mode  of  procedure  than  that  of  making  him  believe 
that  he  is  quite  in  the  dark ;  because,  in  that  case,  he  feels  his  way  so 
carefully  tliat  the  irilds  are  decidedly  uguinst  vour  being  able  to  get 
faim  in  at  all:  whereas,  one  who  has  been  half  enlighteneil  on  the 
subject,  believes  that  lie  knows  all  about  it;  and  enters  into  the 
thing  with  all  the  confidence  in  Nature.  This  was  precisely  the 
case  with  Stanley.  He  had  before  no  conception  that  so  much  money 
was  to  be  won  with  so  much  ease,  and,  therefore,  bet  to  the  extent  uf 
some  thousands,  and  would  have  bet  more,  but  Sir  William,  who  was 
far  too  ingenious  to  frighten  him,  irt  limine,  not  only  clotted  his  book, 
but  resolved,  for  the  look  of  the  thing,  to  induce  him  to  hedge  down  at 
£p«om  with  one  of  those  purely  sporting  men  who  are  iilways  to  be 
found  in  the  ring,  in  order  that  what  he  might  actually  lo«e  be  might 
Dominally  cover. 

Well,  all  the  preliminaries  having  been  arranged  after  the  most  ap- 
proved fashion,  Stanley,  Amelia,  and  Sir  William,  on  the  morning  of 
the  great  Derby  day,  proceeded  to  the  residcnw*  of  the  widow,  who 
had  prepared  a  sumptuous  breakfast,  and  sundry  hampers  containing 
champagne,  sherry,  chickens,  tongues,  jiigeon-pies,  cakes,  and  a  va- 
riety of  other  little  articles,  designed  for  demolition  on  the  course. 
They  were  all  in  high  spirits.  Their  pleasure,  perhaps,  sprang  from 
various  sources:  but  they  were  all,  nevertheless,  on  most  exalted 
terms,  as  nell  with  each  other  as  with  themselves;  and,  as  Sir  Wil- 
liam had  suggested  the  expediency  of  starting  early,  at  nine  o'clock 
Erecisely  the  carriage  was  announced,  and  looked  —  when  the  party 
ad  taken  their  seats,  and  the  servants,  in  flaming  liveries,  were  on 
the  box,  and  the  ]HMtlH)ys  were  mounted,  duly  embellished  with  satin 
jackets  of  the  brightest  celestial  blue, — rather  distingue  than  ru»t.  i 

It  was  a  hazy  morning,  and  the  atmosphere  was  like  a  hot-bath  ; 
but  even  in  those  which  are  usually  the  moat  quiet  streets,  the  carri- 
Bges  were  rattling  up  to  the  doors,  and  the  servants  were  bringing  out 
the  hampers,  and  all  acemcd  to  be  in  one  universal  bustle.  It  is  not, 
however,  until  they  reach  the  point  at  which  the  carriages  from  all 
parts  of  the  metropolis  meet,  that  the  unsophisticated  are  able  to  form 


STANLEY    THORN. 


93 


m  cmrecl  conception  of  the  varied  chnrncteristica  of  the  equipages  tliat 
ftre  to  tucompftay  ihem  duwn  the  rond.  Here  Stanley  and  the  widow, 
neither  of  wnotn  had  been  down  before,  were  amased.  There  was  nu- 
ttiiag  in  the  &hape  of  a  vehicle  which  bad  not  had  its  wbeelti  greu«ed  ex- 
pra&ly  for  the  oc-*ca<tirtn  ;  nothing  in  the  similitude  of  a  horuej  at  all 
likclT  to  do  the  f>ix-and-tbirty  miles  in  twenty  hours  without  giving 
ap  tbe  ghost,  nbich  had  nut  received  an  extra  severe  curry-cumbing, 
tagctfavr  with  an  nJditional  feed  of  corn,  with  the  view  of  imparting 
fi0p*etability  and  spirit  to  his  appearance  un  that  auspicious  iJay. 
Sock,  then,  being  the  generally  joyful  t^tate  tif  things,  «f  course  plenty 
of  mmiuetnent  wtis  to  be  fnund  ;  and,  as  Stanley  and  Sir  William  made 
highly  characteristic  oh)«rvations  upon  every  vehicle,  and  everr  crea- 
ture ID  «»ery  vehicle,  of  a  remarkable  character,  they  were  all  very 
nerry,  and  laughed  very  heartily,  and  seemed  to  be  the  huppiettt  of 
tW  luippy. 

**  Now."  said  Sir  William,  as  they  entered  the  lane  which  leads 
ftMD  the  town  of  Ep^om  to  the  DiiwnH,  "  you  may  all  go  to  sleep  for 
tnlf  an  hour,  for  this  is  the  most  tedious  part  of  the  journey." 

Tbey  were  not,  however,  di)«|H)ned  to  go  to  sleep,  although  the  line 
■ttvc<S  Imt  slo%vly  along ;  fnr  as  it  did  move  at  a  jmce,  the  consolation 
via  <»nspicnous,  and,  un  arriving  at  the  top,  the  brilliant  appearance 
af  lfa«  IJownii  well  repaid  them  fur  whatever  tedium  they  might  have 
experienced. 

'*  Ofa>  what  a  lovely  acene !  "  exclaimed  the  widow,  directing  Ame- 
BiTa  attention  towards  the  hill.  "  Well,  really  now  this  ia  enclianting  I 
Sir  William,  have  we  to  co  to  that  beautiful  Rpnt?  " 

••  A*  you  please/'  replied  the  Baronet ;  "  but  I  think  that  we  had 
heuer  ^ec  near  the  grand  stand,  where  the  horaea  will  paaa  quite  close 
tow." 

"  Tfcat  rviU  be  deliglitful !     Oh  !  will  it  not,  my  love  ?  " 

Amelia  aatkenterl,  and  directions  were  given  to  got  as  near  the  grand 
tfaadto  puaHib]e,on  a  line  with  the  course.  Oit  entering  the  enclosure, 
Ihej  were  all  highly  pleJiaed  with  the  scene  which  burst  upon  them  ; 
bat  ihe  widow  —  uli  1  slie  was  in  ecstacies  !  She  had  never,  she  was 
■Brr  abv  hod  never  in  the  whole  course  of  her  life  beheld  anything  so 
bMTenty  ! — n-erything  diti  hutk  so  gay,  no  delightful,  so  glorious  !  And 
ikrn  llw  i^rand  stand  !  Well,  really  —  she  never  did  !— H>h  !  nothing 
aimld  ewpwHi  it ! 

No  vonaer  bad  they  taken  their  station  than  Bob  duly  appeared  with 
iba  bene*,  which,  when  Stanley  and  Sir  William,  at  the  earnest  soli- 
dlalMro  of  the  widow,  had  taken  some  refreshment,  they  mounted,  and 
nde  to  tbe  wood. 

Stanley  waa  a  very  fair  judge  of  a  hone,  and  when  all  that  were  to 
ilvt  wrv  brought  ont,  one  of  the  uutsideni  Hp|H>iired  to  him  to  have 
Wao  betted  against  rather  too  heavily.  He  therefore  re-examined  his 
bealti  and  tiie  result  of  that  re-examination  was,  that  he  did  not  mtich 
bkthia  potution.  Nur  did  Bob  much  like  his  ;  for,  by  virtue  of  making 
cnM-beta,  with  tbe  view  of  hedging,  he  had  got  into  an  extraonlinary 
gittmetical  maze,  having  made  divers  gross  and  disgraceful  mistakes, 
}tf  noondiog  in  his  favour  a  vorii-ty  of  bets,  which  were  in  reality 
ipIiHt  hiu).  He  waa  therefore  highly  pleased  when  Stanley  returnedi 
■iucli  he  did  aa  soon  as  possible,  in  order  to  back  his  own  judgment ; 
smI  baring  enterrd  the  ring,  he  almost  immediately  got  into  conversa- 
tiM  with  Major  Foxc,  who  pumpuusly  pronounced  himself  open  to 


b  of 

3i 


the  field  fur  an  even  thoneand.    Thia 

and  he  took  the  bet  at  odcp,  and 

■ad  tben   made  sererul  other  bets^ 

^  aafely.  verv  much  to  the  delijrhc  of 

ital»sad  with  wfioni,  on  the  strength  of 

Eua  liabilities^  and  having  closed 

«•  JMO.  them. 

ft  C^  nmgf  thiu  bringing  himself  nwninall 

I  aeal  and  intensity  of  feeling,  vraa  study- 

XBtks  of  his  position,  as  strikioglr  mani- 

jftil  Stmui  evrntually  the  evidence  it  imparted  to  be 

a^iTtfttoilftflr  cunflicting,  that  he  all  at  once  became  »a 

,   -4m  hm  pcrceirtd   with  amazing   distinctness   thiit  he 

■ubBad  U  at  all.     He  tried  hard,  nay  he  tried  with  despe- 

...L-fciwud  '-iif  bearings  of  hia  hiero(;Iyphieal  conceptions; 

lu^  tried,  the  more  profoundly  he  tttudied,  the 

-_ll  -j^Li.ji^iy  he  reckoned,  the  more  chaotic  his  intellec- 

.AMme,  which  wm  to  his  extremely  sensitive  ftrelings  indeed 

\t  length  he  contidentinlly  intimate<l  to  the  widow's 

-ut  ut  tluit  exciting  period  upon  the  box,  that  he  was 

OMB  u>  luive  the  benefit  uf  In'K  advice  upon  a  subject  of  no 

10  itnporunce;  and  the  coachman,  who  had  act]uired  the 

baioii  rmtber  a  £u-seeing  individual,  accordingly  de«ocnd<^H 

4ii»»  ^M 

^. '  sai>l  b«.  with  due  solemnity  of  aspect,  "  did  you  sc«^^ 

t  ilk*  t-^MirM!  there  just  now,  which  cockud  hi<)  ble&sed  tail 

iMft kSBi tod  cut  away backarda  and  forrards, acause 

itt  W«  to  get  out  ?  " 

•of^Md  dte  coachman,  "  I  did." 

•m  jmt  in  that  identical  speccheR  of  mess.  There  'i 
,«k  uuK ;  but  1  know  do  mure  how  than  that  brindle, 
aX  «»  bitd  a«  if  there  wa»n't>" 

f  f  ou  'U  just  convert  that  into  reg'lar  English.  I 
-xuud  it.  urehauB." 

.tf  '  "  exclaimed  Bob,  diKguHted  with  the  extreme 
iH-tcrption.     "  Don't  J  tell  you  I  'm  in  a  blewed 
'.>a  IV  nJiow  me  how  to  see  my  way  out  on  it ! — Do 
Jt  Libout  betting?  " 

o.  as  well  OS  here  and  there  one." 

jIm  over  this  book."     Here  Bob  pointed  out 

1    means  brandy-and-water, — them  rum-and- 

.  ...«Aa, — them  ale, — and  them  there,  where  two 

«  «  iMalw  half<and-half.     Now,  just  hwk  deliberate 

I.-  .-xift  how  I  stand.     There  's  a  trump!  " 

.  >.   luidstudied  the  state  of  things  intently, 

.jHi«(nKue5s  watched  his  emotium.     At  length, 

I  tliis  eflecl : — 
ltt4^  «wt  kave  you  bin  at  I     You  're  the  boy 

^«lid  Bob,  who  felt  really  alarmed. 
*iMk  Wro !     Vou  've  juHt  managed  it  dex- 
r  t  win,  you  lose  pretty  nigh  all  the  lot ; 
;t  t  win  a  screw." 
^^  iftal  4Ut  f  "  demanded  Boh,  indignantly. 


STANLEY    TIIORN. 


95 


'  How  do  I  make  it  faout !  Why,  look  here  —  look  at  tbem  tbere 
braodieir-an'- water  —  why,  they  're  hf  very  indiwiduid  one  ua  'em  agin 
joa!** 

"How  Ao  you  mean?  Haven't  I  token  seren  to  two^  four  or  five 
lime«  over  ?  " 

"  I  know  yoo  hare;  bnt  haven't  you  hedged  off  there  by  giving  four 
to  one  on  the  same  om,  four  or  live  times  over?  Don't  yon  ttee  I  As  far 
u  the  foarpenn'orths  goes,  it  don't  matter  which  winj& :  it 's  like  giving 
t«ru  fcrdena  for  a  ha'penny  ;  but  you  're  in  for  the  bran dy-and- water, 
ud  you  *re  in  for  the  oJe,  and  you  're  in  for  the  whole  mob  of  arf-and- 
•rf." 

Bob  >tood  for  a  moment  as  if  petrified.  The  spirit  of  incredulity 
took  poneasion  of  him  at  first,  and  caused  him  tu  have  a  most  pnifuund 
euileinpt  for  hiR  friend's  culculuting  faculty,  albeit  he  did  strongly  feel 
tJwt  there  woa  b  horrible  hitch  somewhere ;  bnt  when  it  had  been 
pointed  out  tu  him  distinctly  how  the  various  gross  mistakes  had  been 
made,  he  perspired  with  great  freedom,  end  looked  dreadfully  cut  up. 

"  Well,"  Kaid  he^  scratctiing  his  head  ^vith  unexampled  pertteverance* 
"  I  'm  a  donkey  —  I  know  it  —  1  know  1  'm  s  donkey,  and  so  I  don't 
WADt  tu  be  tiild.  As  the  French  says,  this  in  a  out-and-uut  case  of  horxe 
drcoM&o/.  Vou  are  right — oh  !  I  see  regular  plain  that  you  are  right. 
If  the  fiivourite  don't  do  the  trick,  perhaiw  I  shan't  be  in  a  pickle  I  and 
the  favourite 's  no  favourite  of  mine." 

"  Vou  've  seed  the  osses  all  on  'em,  haven't  yer  ?  Is  there  any  one 
yoo  particular  fancy  ?  " 

"  Whr,  yes,  there 's  a  little  un  there ;  but  there  "s  fifty  to  one  against 
Iran,  >o  ne  can't  he  no  sort,  though  be  looks  as  if  be  minht  be." 

**  Now,  take  my  adu-ice ;  you  go  and  get  all  the  hods  you  can  agin 
dw  field.  Never  miud  uiiy  oss — take  tlie  field.  That 's  the  only  way 
to  pvrwent  you  bein'  mucked  of  the  whole  squadfU'." 

*'  1  see  \  I  MW !  Here,  catch  hul  J  a  minute.  I  won't  be  gone  long. 
I  know  where  to  fidd  a  few  trumt>s  as  gives  odds.  But  mat/  I  be  smu- 
ikeTcd!" 

Swelling  with  indignation  at  liiit  dense  stupidity,  and  cherishing  a 
bcjght  and  most  beautiful  hope,  Hob  started  wtih  the  view  of  honour- 
ably taking  in  some  gentleman  whom  he  had  the  felicity  to  number 
■«M«ig  hia  friends.  The  news,  hou-ever,  had  spread  thai  the  field  waa 
ntre  xn  win  ;  all  wished  to  take  the  very  odds  that  he  nnshed  to  take. 
In  voia  he  endeavoured  to  inspire  them  witli  the  belief  that  they 
lL*T«by  stood  in  their  own  light:  they  wouldn't  have  it:  — they  pro- 
■vnced  it  aimultoneou&ly  ''  no  ^o."  Thus  foiled,  thus  deceiveo,  and 
Ibot,  too,  in  a  quarter  in  which  he  had  reposed  the  utmost  confidence, 
and  m  which  he  had  centred  every  hope,  his  heart  sank  within  him  ns  he 
returned  to  communicate  the  melancholy  fact  to  his  friend.  It  was 
IWb  that  he  felt  that  he  was  in  the  hands  of  fate, — it  was  then  that  he 
peniavd,  that  if  iu  ihix  his  extremily  fate  would  but  he  pnipittouR,  no 
pewcroa  earth  should  ever  induce  him  tu  be  so  consummate  a  donkey 
■yuiu  And  yet — why  —  who  could  tell?  The  favourite! — the 
faf«ur[t«  waa  a  good  horse. — a  capital  horse  I  He  didn't  like  the  look 
nf  hiai  Boefa,  but  he  might  win, — he  ought  to  win, — nay,  on  reflection, 
W  would  win.  He  resolved  to  entertain  no  doubt  about  tlie  matter,  fur 
cvvry  daubt  was  painful,  llurnih  for  the  favourite !  The  favourite 
■giuart  the  field  \  Tht;  fuvourite  for  a  thousand!  The  favourite  for 
r  I     He  was  nut  going  then  to  lie  down  in  a  ditch  and  die  I 


96 


STANLEY   THORN. 


The  bell  rung,  and  all  were  on  tlie  <jni  vitte.  Tbe  most  earnest'' 
anxictjr  prevailed.  The  next  two  minutes  were  to  decide  tbat  in 
which  all  seemed  interested  deepl)'.  Hod  every  man  present  had  all 
be  positetued  in  tbe  world  then  at  slake,  his  suu|>eDEte  at  tbnt  moment 
could  not  have  appeared  more  painful.  The  horses  started.  "  They 
are  off!  they  are  off!"Bhoutca  thousands  simultaneously,  and  every 
eye  was  strained  in  the  direction  of  the  hill.  Tbey  appeared  !  They 
swept  the  brow  with  the  speed  of  lightning  !  They  passed  the  corner ! 
—  tncy  came  straight  up  the  course!  Pink  was  a-head.  "Pink! 
pink!  Bravo,  pink. —  Yellow!  yellow!  Go  along,  pink!  —  Blue  1 
■^Grcen  !— Red  !" — nay,  every  colnnr  in  the  rainbow  was  ahnuted,  in 
order  to  urge  each  along.  Tbe  post  was  gained.  Two  seemed  neck 
and  neck.  FVw  at  the  moment  could  tell  which  had  won  ;  but  as  one 
of  the  two  WAB  the  favourite,  Bob  shouted,  "  The  favourite !  tbe  fa- 
vourite !  Oh  !  hollow !  "  And  lie  leaped  like  a  deer  from  tbe  back  of 
the  carriuge,  and  opened  hit  Bhoulders,  and  rubl>ed  bis  bands,  and 
putted  bis  horses,  and  alapjHKl  his  thigh,  and  threw  himself  at  once 
into  a  state  of  ec^ta«y  the  modt  delicious.  Tbe  next  moment  a  sound 
reached  bis  car, — a  sound  which  made  him  tremble !  He  turned  to- 
wards tbe  winning-post,  and  there  be  beheld  —  the  number  of  an  out- 
sider t  Tbe  furuurite  bad  lost!  Instantly  bis  countenance  fell.  He 
slapped  his  tbigh  no  more.  He  struck  Marmion  on  tbe  nose  for  pre- 
suming to  suort  at  such  a  moment,  conceiving  it  to  be  in  the  abstract 
highly  reprebensiblei  and  sank  into  an  awful  state  of  melaneholie 
gloom. 

Sir  William,  of  course,  was  delighted,  but  he  studied  to  conceal  bis 
delight  at  the  time ;  while  Stanlev,  who  bad  brought  himself  pretty 
nearly  home,  having  won  all  his  bets  with  tbe  Major,  congratulated 
himself  on  having  backed  bis  own  judgment.  The  Alujor  did  not  ap- 
pear to  be  much  depressed.  He  was  a  loser,  he  said,  it  was  true,  but 
not  to  any  great  amount,  having  taken  a  variety  of  other  bets,  which 
had  been  decided  in  his  favour.  He  held  it,  therefore,  to  l>e  a  nmtteF^| 
of  no  material  importance ;  and,  having  politely  declined  tbe  pressin^^ 
invitation  of  Stanley  to  |>artake  of  their  refreKhiuents,  he  lieggwl  that 
he  miglit  have  the  honour  of  a  call  at  the  United  Service  Club  in  the 
morning,  as  on  settling  day  the  probability  was  that  he  should  have  i 
leave  town. 

Tbe  widow,  who  playfully  affected  to  be  very  indignant  indeed  wit 
that  tire&ome  thing  of  a  horse,  which  bud  been  the  cause  of  her  losing  i 
dozen  pair  of  gloves  to  Amelia,  now  ordereil  the  ham|»erbtn  be  opened, 
and  when  the  leaf  of  a  table  had  been  adjusted  upon  the  doors  of  the 
carriage,  it  wan  speedily  covered  with  the  viands  she  had  prepared,  and 
they  ail  ate  heartily,  with  the  collateral  enjoyment  of  the  scene  around 
them,  which  was  certainly  one  of  great  excitement  and  splendour. 

They  hud,  however,  no  sooner  commenced  their  repast  than  the  wi- 
dow's benevolence  was  powerfully  excited ;  for  a  party  of  four  ladiea 
and  two  gentlemen,  who  ttccupied  the  carriage  next  to  hers,  bad  to 
their  horror  found,  on  their  hamper  l)eing  opened,  that  tbe  new  rope 
by  which  it  hud  been  suspended  from  the  axle  had  stretclied  to  an  ex- 
tent that  enabled  the  hamper  in  little  hilly  parts  of  the  road  to  come 
in  contact  with  the  ground  with  sufficient  riolence  to  break  to  atoms 
the  dishes,  bottles,  and  glasses,  and  thereby  to  mix  them  and  the  pro- 
visions together ;  and  truly  to  the  eye  it  was  a  most  unpleasinK  mix- 
ture, jniujnucb  a&  tbe  pie-crust  was  saturated  with  wine,  tbe  orokea 


STANLEY   THORN. 


97 


^Mklt&d  (Tork^  Its  wnv'  into  the  diickenn,  the  pigeons  with  the  frravy 
were  miicetl  up  with  stout  und  struw,  u-liiK>  the  hum  had  been  made  by 
^^tb«  A^ments  of  the  bottles  to  appear  as  if  it  had  been  nibbled  by  a 
HA^ku  of  rats. 

^m    71i«  widow,  when  she  saw  their  distress,  felt  for  them  acuteir,  and 

^B  tnit  to  be^  their  acceptance  of  one  of  her  pics,  and  part  of  her  ham* 

^  with  a  pair  of  her  rhickenA,  and  so  on,  whicli  they  did   not  by  any 

■MUU  like  to  receive  ;  but,  on  being  warmly  pres&ed,  they  at  length 

Qooseoted  to  accept  them,  provided  they  were  also  presented  with  a 

card,  which  proriso  was  a^eed  to,  and  ull  were  made  happy. 

Imxnediately  after  their  repast,  Stanley  and  Sir  William  remounted 
tbeir  boraea,  being  anxious  to  make  a  {i^vr  bets  upon  the  next  race  ; 
ksd*  while  tbey  were  gone.  Bob,  the  widow's  servants,  and  the  piist- 
bvf>  cmnmeDced  operations  upon  the  rcfrt'shments  which  had  been  left, 
■ad  which,  a«  tlie  widow  was  exceedinf^ly  liberal  with  her  wino*  thoy 
•0  amiiringly  enjoyed,  with  tlie  exception  of  Bob,  whose  spirit  wai 
painfully  perturbt-d.  He  was  haunted  by  his  erroneous  calculations, 
mad  ipeclres  of  innumerable  gla^seit  of  hrandy-and-wnter,  and  rows  of 
MU  of  ale  and  half-and-half,  which  really  seemed  to  have  no  end, 
littvd  before  him  as  merrily  us  if  they  were  overjoyed  at  the  fact  of  his 
haTiag  to  pay  for  them  all.  The  only  question  ^vith  him  was,  how 
could  he  get  out  of  his  embarrassed  position  ?  —  and  his  utter  inability 
t*  fiMMMaVf)  a  satisfactory  answer  to  this  question  dealt  de&truction  to 
(kit  ^ipctite,  and  rendered  him  wretclied.  At  lenf^th  he  managed  to 
hit  vpoo  an  expedient  by  which  he  mi;*ht  f^in  at  least  a  triHe  towards 
eMnerm^  his  extremely  heavy  spirituous  liabilities'  In  the  next  race 
ci^t  baraes  were  to  run,  and  he  proposed  a  quiet  sweepstakes,  in  which 
hff  gnc  tb«  coachman,  the  footman,  and  one  of  the  postilions  to  join. 
Ha  then  tore  a  piece  of  paper  into  ci;;ht,  and  having  established  the 
BBmbn*  respectively  thereon,  and  folded  and  put  them  into  his  hat, 
caefc  nfaacribed  half-o-crown,  and  then  drew  two  numbers,  and  B(»b's 
wrr  the  first  and  second  horses  on  the  list. 

"  ^Fe^,"  thought  he,  '•  this  is  something."  And  so  it  was ;  and  he 
h^ttn  Co  rat  a  little,  and  to  feel  somewhat  l»etter.  Half  a  sovereign 
wold  indisputably  pay  for  ten  good  shilling  glasses.  There  could  bo 
M  aaiaoilciijation  about  that,  although  he  quite  forgot  his  own  sm:dl 
nbteripdoilrf— which  perhaps  was  as  well,  for  his  mind  was  the  more  at 
mm^  mmA  the  consequence  was  tliat  he  eventually  made  a  very  highly 
1^       WwclalJe  meal. 

^K     ihbc  boU  rang  again  for  the  course  to  be  cleared,  and  Stanley  and  Sir 
^BViQMni  returned. 

^H    "Well,  which  is  tlie  best  horse?  "  inquired  the  widow. 
^H    "  Tlwi  fiirourite."  replit-d  Stanley,  "  I  jihouhl  Miy,  in  this  race." 
^H    "•  The  6ivourite : — Well,  Amelia  and  1  are  going  to  have  another  bet." 
^H    "Indevdf"  laid  Amelia,  "  I  do  not  understund  it." 
^F     **  Nor  do  I,  my  love,  much ;  but  we  must  have  a  bet.     Now,  I  '11 
^m   hti  you     let  xne  see — a  sutin  dress !  — and  you  shall  have  which  horse 
yotpbuae." 
"  That  will  be  about  tn*o  to  one,"  observed  Stanley. 
*Kuh  no— one  to  one ;  that  is  to  say,  even-" 
"  Bat  Amelia  will  bet  two  to  one." 

"  D«v  me.  how  ridiculous  !     One  dre»— one  cannot  be  two !  " 
**  I  gnot  you  that,  of  course  ;  but  I  should  eay  that  it  takes  nearly 
Aivbte  the  quantity  — " 
VOL.  rui.  u 


98 


STANLEY   THORN. 


'*  Indeed,  sir,  it  takes  no  such  thing,"  interrupted  the  bloshing  wji 
dow;  foralthoDgh  she  patted  Stanley  rery  pluyfuUy,  and  siniied.  she 
did  not  approve  of  hitt  milking  so  incorrect  an  observation  in  the  pre- 
sence of  Sir  William.  It  was  personal — very  pen>onal.  BesideSj  she 
required  but  a  few  yards  more  than  Amelia ;  not  double  the  quantityj^ 
nor  anythinf;  like  double  the  quantity.  ^M 

"  I  '\l  tell  YOU,  now,  what  will  be  a  fair  bet,"  said  Stanley.     "  Yw^ 
take  the  fevourito  against  the  field  for  a  dress :  that  will  bring  the 
thine  about  even." 

"Very  well;  let  it  be  so.     The  favourite  is  mine.     We  must  i 
my  love,  of  course,  like  the  rest." 

Amelia  conseutetl  to  this  arrangement,  and  the  race  shnoit  immedi- 
ately commenced.     The  excitement  was  not  nearly  so  great;  but  the) 
was  still  amply  sufficient  to  keep  all  alive,  and  the  colours  were  calle 
as  they  passed  as  k'fore.    The  favourite  lost,  and  Stanley  loet  u-ith  tb 
favourite.     The  widow  also  lost ;  and  Bob  Iwt  the  sweepstakes- 

Of  course  the  last-mentioned  loss  had  the  greatest  effect  upon  the 
Io8>er.  He  had  6rmly  and  resolutely  made  up  his  mind  to  win,  and 
hence  experienced  a  dreadful  degree  of  depression.  He  felt  that,  in 
the  nature  of  things,  this  was  hard,  and  that  fortune  neither  smiled 
upon  the  most  meritorious,  nor  aided  those  wlio  stood  most  in  iieed  of 
assistance.  To  htm  that  half  sovereign  would  have  !>een  of  great  ser- 
vice. The  rest  did  not  want  it  so  much  ;  for  they  had  lost  nothing  on 
the  Derby.  He  considered  that,  if  fortune  had  not  been  sand-btind, — 
if  she  had  had  only  half  an  eye  open,  she  would  have  seen  this,  —  and 
then,  of  course,  the  sweepstakes  had  l>een  his ;  for  he  was  sure  tbat*^ 
to  his  knowledge,  he  had  done  nothing  to  offend  her.  ^M 

While  involved  in  this  deep  consideration,  standing  like  a  ttatupf^ 
with  his  hands  in  his  smalls, — which,  indeed,  was  his  customary  atti- 
tnde  when  he  happened  to  have  anything  of  a  strictly  metaphysical 
character  to  compass,  —  a  gentleman  without  his  coat  approached  in 
wonderful  haitte,  and,  while  performing  a  variety  of  original  antics 
commenced  shouting,  apparently  in  a  frightful  state  of  excitement, 

"  NotP,  who's  for  the  last  nine,  the  last  nine,  the  last  nine!  /  *w 
onV  three  minutes  !  A  severing  for  a  shilling,  or  three  for  half-crown, 
fo  decide  this  here  vunderful  vngear  nlwem  them  there  two  svell 
sportin'  indiwidgeals,  the  Marqvis  off  Vin-tford  and  a  honerble  Hurl, 
for  five  thousand  guineas  aside  here  f  /  'wi  obligated  for  to  dress  like 
this  here,  cos  the  honerble  Hurl  don't  believe  as  the  people  von't  think 
these  here  soverings  is  good  uns.  ^Vio'll  have  the  last  nine,  the  last 
nine,  the  last  nine  here  !  " 

"  This  is  a  do,"  observed  Bob  to  a  decent-looking  person  standing 
near  him. 

"  Do  you  think  so  ?  I  've  a  great  mind  to  have  three :  it  may  be  a 
bet,"  said  the  person  addressed.  "  I  '11  have  half-a-crown'a  worth  ;" 
and  he  bod,  ana  he  appeared  to  be  delighted  with  his  bargain,  and  joy- 
fully showed  them  to  Bob,  who  was  amazed. 

"  It  is  a  wager."  thought  he.  "They  are  good  uns — real  good  un& 
Why,  three  of  these  would  set  me  all  square !  "  It  struck  him  at  the 
moment  that  fortune,  to  propitiate  him,  had  suggested  that  bet,  and 
had  sent  him  that  man. 

"  Now,  who 's  for  the  last  six !  /  've  on'v  one  minute /or  this  vun«l 
derful  vageor  off  ten  thousand  guineas.  Wfio  7/  have  the  last  six  fur  ft] 
croBTi  here .' " 


stawLey  thorn. 


99 


I  Mtxioualy  gave  him  five  shiUinf;s,  and  received  in  rctani  the 
ax  "  iorereignR,"  which  heinKtanliy  found  to  be  villanoua  brass.  Biit 
tW  fellow  was  otf !  he  twisted  iuto  the  crvwd  like  an  imp  ;  and,  as  he 
wbo  hod  prompted  the  purchase,  by  showing  the  three  real  sovereigna, 
ihM  ftlw  twajr,  it  at  once  became  evident  to  Bob  tbat  they  were  con- 
Mentea. 

"Onljr Juitt  huld  my  horses/'  said  he  to  a  mau  standing  by  ;  and  he 
dieted  oo  alter  tJiem  fiercely.  But,  liow  vain  was  the  piuauit!  The 
mt  MMDe&t  they  were  li»t  to  him  for  ever. 

Tkia  wn^  iud«ed,  a  heavy  blow.  It  was  terrible  to  his  abeady 
■w— ded  feeliogi.  It  wai  cruel.  lie  could  have  cried ;  but  he  re- 
pfCJti  the  rising  extract  of  sorrow  with  indignation. 

**Tobc  «ueh  a  out-and-out  fool  1  "  he  exclaimed,  clenching  his  fists 
mr  desperately^  and  looking  very  vicioua,  "  when  I  ought  to  have 
inonra  th»t  it  was  nothing  but  a  do ;  when  my  own  common  sense 
aoght  to  hare  told  mc  it  waft  nothing  but  a  regular  dead  take  in  I 
Here  '•  tKings  I  "  he  continued,  holding  the  sovereigns  again  before  his 
*«idefifl«  eyes.  "  Here  a  muck !  Here  s  a  blessed  live  sbiliinga' 
mitli  I  VoM't  I  wish  I  could  see  tliat  there  varmint  anywheres  about 
hm^     Wonldn't  I  give  him  a  leetle  pepper?  " 

Apdn  Bob  looked  anxiously  around  ;  but«  as  he  could  not  catch 
CTOi  a  glimpse  of  the  ingenious  gentleman  in  question,  he  returned  to 
U»]K)ne»,  mghtfully  depressed. 

"HalUi,  my  Sobby!  "  exclaimed  the  coachman, "  anything  petickler 

*  No,  nothing  of  much  oddit,"  replied  Bob  ',  who  conceived  it  to  be 
flnedient  to  keep  the  sovereign  job  a  secret,  at  least  5'om  that  parti- 
cuarquBrtar. 

"  W«  'n  nan'  for  to  'are  another  sveepstakes.  There 's  on'y  four 
'«Hca.     Win  yer  join  ua  ?  " 

**  Ofaj  if  you  like.  I  'm  safe  to  lose-  Nobody  never  had  such  sweet 
lode  Mt  me.    Bat  1  '11  be  in  it." 

H*  sccordiagly  put  down  bis  half-crown,  and  drew;  but  he  scorned 
C»  look  M  Che  sumDcr.  He  would  Mi  know  which  horse  he  had  drawn 
vaCU  after  the  race,  and  therefore  placed  the  paper  carefully  in  his 
pocket,  while  he  looked  another  way,  lest  his  eyes  should  fall  upon  it 
vy  aecidrat.  He  then  had  a  glass  of  wine  with  the  rest  beneath  the 
fwt-fcftsn* ;  but  continued  to  be  mournfully  silent,  although  he  occasi- 
maSkj  gBTc  his  horses  for  the  slightest  misbehaviour  the  most  severe 
kak  ihmj  ever  witnessed. 

Tlw  uitcrvol  between  the  races  was  in  this  case  unusually  short. 
TW  esuiBc  was  oo  souner  clear  than  the  bell  rang  again,  and  the 
hans  atarled.  They  did  the  half  mile  in  about  half  a  minute,  and  ac- 
tnlly  t)w  vny  bone  which  won  cleverly  by  a  length,  was  the  horse 
wUca  Bob  had  drawn,  in  his  view  this  altered  the  generut  aspect  of 
tUnos  nwst  materially  ;  for,  albeit,  it  but  rexlored  him  to  the  position 
vUni  ha  oecupii'd  at  the  cunclujtiun  of  tlie  Derby,  it  was  abundantly 
■mUMt  to  him  that  his  "  luck  "  Imd  really  changed  ;  and  he  brighten- 
<d  BficifnUry  and  chatted  a  little,  and  breathed  upon  the  four  half- 
iiaaai,  and  deposited  them  promptly  in  tliu  olf  iH>cket  of  his  smalls, 
VTth  aa  sir  which  denoted  intense  Katisfaction.  He  then  proposed  that 
the  ant  aweriMtahcsshoold  be  doubled.  This,  however,  wm  declined. 
Tha  saaw  sam  was  nut  down,  and  they  drew ;  but  Bob  would  nut 
htre  looked  at  wbat  he  had  drawn  if  any  man  had  utfered  him  seven 


STANLEY   fHORNT 


Bi  fead  aet  IiwkoJ  at  the  lust,  und  lie  hod  won.     Ho 
Aril  tkcre  was  h  f^reat  deal  in  tliut. 

i^t  vidotv  now  ulij;;btcd,  with  the  view  of  promeDading 
tz  imL  as  this  hud  been  at  the  sale  suf^estton  uf  Sir  Williaai, 
it  WW  tfvtmilj  jpprvciated  by  the  \i-idow,  who  scarcely  could  tell  how 
ftiMtltii  tell  while  walking  for  the  tirst  time  in  public  wiib  an  boiimtr- 
■W*  baniMC  It  were  poor  indeed  to  deM^ibe  that  feeling  as  being 
$kat  of  BrMtw  It  wm  a  higher,  a  purer,  a  more  intensely  delicious 
Hhdhtttttui  that;  and  she  stepped  so  lightly,  and  her  plume  wared  m> 
IpanenUr.  while  she  felt  so  much  ecstasy  sparkling  in  her  e}'es,  that, 
Ml  ab«  tripped  past  Amelia,  she  really  did  think  that  any  absolute 
atnoger  would  be  puzzled  to  tell   which   of  the  two  looked  the^^ 

While  they  were  admiring  the  beauty  of  the  Grand  Stand,  and  olJier^^ 
]M«mineuC  features  of  the  guy  scene  around  them,  Bob,  elated  with  his 
«ilGCe»s  in  the  lost  sweepstakes,  felt  that,  as  Fortune  now  seemed  dis- 
inaed  to  fnvour  him,  he  ought  not  to  thwart  lier  beneficent  inclinings, 
uid  therefore  set  off  for  one  of  the  booths,  in  which  nierveille  appeared 
to  bim  to  be  played  u|>on  a  very  fair,  stnught-fonvard  principle.  He 
&tood  for  some  time,  and  looked  on,  und  saw  a  great  deal  of  money  won 
and  paid  without  a  murmur,  from  a  heap  of  half-crowns  which  stood 
by  the  side  of  an  ofien  catdi-box,  in  which  there  wa.s  a  sufficient  num- 
ber uf  notes  to  bind  op  into  a  good-sized  volume,  and  a  quantity  uf 
sovereigns,  which  seamed  to  be  Iwyond  calculation. 

This  ilispluy  of  wealth  dazzled  the  eyes  of  Bob  ;  and  he  resolved  to 
have  ■  triiu.  He  put  a  shilling  ujwn  the  black  :  it  came  black,  and  he 
luuk  up  iwit.  He  put  a  shilling  upon  the  yellow  r  it  came  yellow, 
tnd  htf  look  up  nine.  Could  he  presume  to  doubt  that  Fortune  had 
diHtfiivd  to  smile  upon  him  then  f  He  put  two  half-crowns  upon  the 
\vlTow.  feeling  that  eight  times  that  amount  would  be  particularly  ac- 
..  iii.>yi).> ;  but  it  happened  to  come  black.  He  tried  sgitin  with  live 
it  was  red.  He  tried  five  shillings  more :  it  was  blue. 
'*  x..>  .«,  fturvly  must  cume  yellow  next !  He  tried  another  five  shil- 
il  ctuiiv  blue  again.  Blue  wus  the  favourite;  but>  then,  five 
lAihkee  were  rather  heavy !  He  put  half-a-crown  upon  the 
>-  it  WW  yvllow.  Tut  I  if  he  had  but  kept  to  the  yellow !  He 
!'ow  Bgwn  :  it  was  black.  Then  again,  and  it  was  black:  and 
id  be  had  no  more  ulver.  What,  then,  was  to  be  done? 
■  !!4nge  his  last  sovereign.^  He  would,  and  stake  fire  shil- 
II  the  yellow.  He  did  so.  It  should  be  the  lust  if  he 
t . — that  he  had  made  up  his  mind  to.     The  boll  was 

.1  oHgerly  :  it  seemed  to  wisli  to  go  into  the  yellow: 

%»UiM«4>  did  go  into  the  yellow;  but  on  the  instant  clianged 

sud  k»|>|HHi  iuto  tlie    blue.     How  extraordinary  f     Well ! 

i«  «M  wore  half-crown  ?     No,  he  wouldn't ;  and  yet, 

Mtiu  vera   twenty  shillings!      One  more — only  one: 

> ,  Uhl  ibo  luiU,  us  if  guiiled  by  some  malicious  demon, 

uU*  tb«<  blue.     Bob  pressed  his  lips,  and  frowned,  and 

'■\  wildly,  and  then  attempted  to  leave;  hut  he 

MIL'  tvhich  urged  him  to  turuj  and  he  stood  for 

'lution. 

'  <Mir  :  the  ball 's  off,  make  your  game  \  " 

:  lie  table-     "  If  you  won't  play,  gents, 

>aMiiy^Mv  ii*vi^.  Mida  water,  anything  you  like.  Make 


STANLEY    THORN. 


101 


Hiiiliad  the  effect  of  arotising  Bob  from  his  reverie.  He  resolved 
llu  fcrr  shillings  more.  He  put  half-a-crown  down  upon  the  yel- 
Mv:  il  wu  red.  The  other  half-crown  followed :  it  wast  black.  He 
BMTHCBcd  desperate.  He  tried  tbc  black,  and  won;  but  the  black 
acsvly  c«vered  the  stake.  He  tried  the  yellow,  and  it  was  blue ;  and 
tlMo  the  blue,  and  it  was  yellow.  Five  ithillings  only  bad  he  left. 
Sheald  be  stake  it  oU  at  oncej  hit  or  miss  P  Down  it  went ;  and  in 
n  hMaut  it  was  lost. 

Ha  feeliDgs  were  agonizing  now.  lie,  indeed,  felt  as  if  it  really 
BfltCeml  not  mucli  what  became  of  him.  His  eves  seemed  as  if  iibout 
tottut  froni  their  aocket^.  He  struck  bis  head  with  great  violence ; 
Md,  ■•  be  left  the  booth  slowly,  he  could  not  refrain  from  shedding 
tran.  The  greatest  trouble  phrsics  all  the  rest.  HiH  jirevious  losses 
now  acexDed  aa  nothing.  He  might  have  got  over  them  witli  comfort ; 
bnta  bow  was  he  to  get  over  this  ^  All  the  money  he  had  was  gone* 
iBchidiBg  that  which  he  had  borrowed  of  the  amiable  cook,  and  he 
M  the  whole  of  his  wet  l>ets  to  settle,  and  promptly^  too,  in  order  to 
Mtiia  his  reputation ! 

While  loat  in  tlie  thought  of  this  his  afflicting  position,  he  en.- 
MBUeied  a  creature  who  had  a  table,  with  twenty  or  thirty  sorereigna 
tbwaaa,  and  three  thimble;*,  surrounded  by  divers  individualK,  who 
atr*  betting  upon  tbe  wonderful  discovery  of  a  pea.  Bob  liad  fre- 
qatntly  heard  of  this  game:  he  well  knew  it  to  be  a  dirty  and  dtsre- 
ytUblt  iwimlle  ;  and  yet  the  thing  nppearecl  to  1>e  so  simple,  while  the 
ewiufe  who  presided  seemed  so  bungling,  and  moreover,  so  excefisiTe- 
IrUisd  Co  his  own  interest,  that  in  more  than  one  instance  would  he 
htn  put  down  a  stake  had  his  pockets  not  been  quite  so  hungry  aa 
Afy  were.  He  could  tetl  where  tbe  pea  was  beyond  all  dispute.  It 
^mproptd  that  he  could,  for  a  gentleman  who  stood  beside  tiim,  and 
*ha  bad  not  sufficient  conHdence  in  his  own  judgment,  asked  him 
wludt  Ibimble  he  thought  tbe  i>ea  was  under ;  and,  having  pointed 
«U  ane,  the  gentleman  threw  down  a  siivercign  ;  and  under  that  iden* 
tial  thimble  it  was  ;  and,  when  the  pea  was  again  adjusted,  and  tbe 
gaticSBon  hod  again  appealed  to  him,  another  sovereign  was  staked, 
mU  1m  wm»,  of  course,  right  again. 

Bob,  however,  was  very  much  vexed  at  this.  Two  sovereigns  had 
ben  won  through  his  instrumentality;  and,  although  it  was  all  very 
«dl  to  win  money  for  others,  he  naturally  thought  that  it  would  have 
bwn  belter  had  he  won  tliose  two  sovereigns  for  himself:  which 
hi  migbt  bare  done,  of  course  1  There  could  not  he  two  decent  opinions 
■boat  that ;  and,  therefore,  feeling  that  the  fellow  was  essentially 
m^id,  or.  at  all  eventi,  uul  quite  an  fail  at  the  trick,  he  ran  to  bur- 
mrbKlf-a-Mvereign  of  the  coachman,  and  returned  to  the  table,  full  of 
bepe.  Tbe  Bentleman  who  had  successfully  appealed  to  him  was  still 
bftlUg;  UM,  when  he  lu«t,  he  ap[>eared  to  lose  must  foolishly,  seeing 
Ibtt  Im  umriably  fixed  on  the  thimble  under  which  Bob  was  sure  the 
pa  was  not.  He  therefore  applied  at  Bob  uguiu ;  and  Bob  again 
fJHeJ  to  the  right  one.  and  was  complimented  highly  upon  the  ex- 
tnvdia&ry  quickneu  of  his  perception ;  and  then  it  was  he  trtfd 
farbimaelf.  He  saw  the  pea  distinctly  placed  under  the  thimble  in 
tbc  middle :  he  could  have  aworn  to  it  conscientiously. 

^  I'U  bet  bolf-a-suvereign,"  said  he,  producing  his  all. 

**  Bet  •  aovfreicn,"  critM  tlie  creature.  **  I'ut  a  sovereign  down.  I 
4m'i  floiod  aboutl«iiiing  a  (*ovcreign  I  " 

"  N« ;  only  half,"  aaid  Bob.     "  Don't  touch  it." 


lOS 


STANLEY    THORN. 


"Verr  well-     The  money  was  placed  opon  tbo  tobJci  and  covered 
the  tbitnble  was  raised,  and  the  pea  whs  not  there  ! 

Boh  looked  at  the  fellow  with  great  ferocitr-  He  also  looked  fero- 
ciously at  the  man  who  had  urffed  liim  on.  He  half  suspected  him  of 
bein^;  a  confederate  ;  and,  had  ne  been  sure  of  it^-<]uitc  )iure>  with  all 
the  pleasure  in  life  would  he  have  thrashed  him  ;  but  he  was  not; 
and,  therefore,  all  he  felt  justified  in  duingwuti  to  give  free  vent  to  bia 
indignation,  which  he  did  in  terms  which  be  deemed  appropriate  ;  undi 
having  consigned  the  whole  gang  to  the  torture  of  their  own  cocaci^H 
enceM,  left  them  with  a  feeling  of  unspeakable  disgust.  ^| 

"  Well/'  said  be,  a*  he  returned,  with  a  truly  wretched  aspect,  ' 
"  there 's  another  half  sovereign  out  of  me.  What  is  tliis  world  when 
you  came  fur  to  luok  at  Jt  ?  What  is  it  but  a  out-and-out  den  of 
blessed  thieves  ^  Fortune  I  blow  Fortune  !  what  do  I  owe  her  }  Aiut 
ahe  been  against  me  all  along  ?  Did  ever  any  fellow  have  such  ple«- 
aant  luck  as  I  Vc  bad  ?  I  'm  a  fool — of  course  I  know  that  I  'm  a  ftwl, 
'cause  I  \vm  quite  conscientious  that  that  pea  dodge  was  a  do.  Who  'a 
to  blame,  then  >  Dun't  it  just  serve  me  right  ?  la  there  any  pity  for 
me  ?     Not  a  ha'p'orth." 

This  last  observation  was  made  by  way  of  solace ;  but  the  comfort 
it  imparted  was  not  strikingly  apparent.  He  still  held  that  he  had 
been  cruelly  ill-used,  and  henoe  became  more  dreadfully  dejected  than 
before* 

All  were  now  becominf;  anxious  for  the  last  race,  nave  Bob-  He 
really  cared  but  little  about  whether  he  won  or  lost.  He  was  in  that 
frame  of  mind,  the  indulgence  in  which  is  extremely  illuudable,  and 
highly  pernicious,  inasmuch  as  it  reduces  a  man  at  once  to  that  point  of 
despair  which  prompts  him  to  repudiate  the  employment  of  the  power 
at  his  comnuinu,  with  tlic  view  of  sunnounting  those  embarrasMmenta 
in  which  he  may  be  involved.  This  is  indeed  a  disease— a  nio«t  ruin- 
ous disease,  and  one  fur  which  the  only  immediate  cure  is  a  Little  un- 
expected succesH.  Then,  he  who  wai  gloomily  apathetic  becomes 
active :  bis  durmaiit  energies  ore  aroused  :  be  sees  his  error,  and  glad* 
ly  embraces  those  means  to  which  he  before  closed  his  eyes,  and  that 
wilfully^  being  quite  conscious  of  their  existence.  The  bell  rang, 
and  the  race  commenced.  He  took  no  interest  in  it.  When  it 
was  over,  he  just  glanced  ut  tlie  paper  carelessly.  HTiy,  he  hod 
drawn  the  very  horse !  He  could  not  have  supposed  it  posaible. 
He  had  thought  that  nothing  in  life  was  more  certain  than  that 
every  earthly  thing  was  going  against  him.  On  receiving  the  sweep- 
stakea,  he  therefore  felt  his  heart  lighter,  and  his  spirita  riaiog 
rapidly ;  and,  w^hen  Sir  William^  to  whom  be  had  been  particularly 
attentive,  presented  him  with  a  sovereign,  be  really  b^an  to  believB 
that  bis  ease  was  not  nearly  so  desperate  as  he  had  imagined.  Still  it 
could  not  be  concealed  that  he  had  lost  a  heavy  sum  ;  aud  he  was  just 
on  the  point  of  entering  into  an  abstruse  calculation  touching  the  total 
amount,  when  Stanley  called  to  bim,and  gave  him  instructions  to  take 
the  horses  quietly  home. 

The  posters  were  tlieu  immediately  put  to.  and  iu  five  minutes  the 
widiiw's  carriage  moved  off  the  Downs.  Bob  lingered:  he  scarc«Iy 
knew  why  ;  still  he  lingered ;  and,  as  he  was  blanding  thoughtfully 
between  his  hursea,  a  friend  of  his  approached,  and  informed  him  that 
he  bad  that  very  instant  won  seven  half-crowns  nt  a  "gold  and  silver 
table/'  to  which  he  j>oinlcd,  aud  which  atood  but  a  few  yards  from  the 


■9^ 

STANLEY    THORN. 


108 


On   receirinf^    this   momentous  intelligence.  Bob  looked   at 

ifrMnd,  as  if  to  t>e  sure  tlitit  he  wiu  totally  unconnected  with  the 
■dteioe.  —  being  inclined  ftt  ihe  moment  to  make  every  man  an  object 
of  •tupicion, — and,  having  satistied  himself  on  that  particular  jmint,  he 
gal  a  bojr  to  hold  his  horses,  and  repaired  to  the  ta)>]e  in  que«tion  with* 
flVt  delajr.  At  this  estiihlixhrnent  n  gaudily-dressed  femule  presided; 
ndt  although  she  was  nnt  cxtre.nii?ly  heautiful,  the  purity  of  her  com- 
vk^MMoa,  Kuch  OS  it  was,  was  duly  protected  from  the  «un  hy  a  conipre- 
MBUVt*  umbrella.  She  st<toi{  in  a  commanding  piKtition,  upon  a  stool, 
wktii  •  nkt  in  one  hand,  and  a  white  cutton  cabbnge-net,  nearly  filled 
with  aslTer  is  the  other,  while  on  the  table,  which  was  emhlazuned 
vith  aU  Boris  of  brilliant  pn'sies,  stood  a  dice-box  uf  n  Brubdignaginn 
bttild,  and  divers  large — and,  of  course,  unloaded^-dice  ;  and  ever  and 
■MNl  alw  acreamed,  in  tones  which  bore  an  eur-piercing  reaemblance  to 
thoaa  of  a  cracked  clarionet  in  the  hands  of  a  man  who  kuuwa  no  touch 
tktnni, — "Now,  who's  for  the  next  prize!  A  fJiillin' a  throw,  tir 
llirae  throvn  for  arf-a-crown.  I  'II  warrant  all  the  pHses  to  be  un  the 
dice.  The  extent  of  your  losses  roa  're  sure  to  know :  the  extent  uf 
nor  wtnnln's  you  can't.  When  I  love,  my  losaea  ia  heavy :  when  yoa 
Lw,  rmtr  lofttvK  h  light  I " 

"  Wril."  thooght  Bob,  "  it  'a  quite  out  of  nature  to  be  much  of  rig 
h  tML  I  only  want  to  win  a  pound t  I  '11  have  a  try.  See  if  I  don't. 
It  mitt  ba  vary  hard  if  I  can't  get  something !  " 

He  aeoardingly  subscribed  hidf-a-crown  to  the  ooncemt  and  having 
|lMad  the  dice  in  the  box,  boldly  threw  them,  when  the  lady  began  to 
want  with  surpassing  velocity,  "  Six  and  six  is  twelve,  and  four  'a 
■MtSM*  simI  five  's  twenty-seven,  and  three  's  thirty-four,  and  one  'u 
fait^tfe^  and  fimr's  fifty -two,  and  tire's  tifty-uiae,and  three's  sixty- 
ftaa,  and  fear  and  four'R  eight,  and  six  is  seventy-two!  Sixtv-two  is 
a  ptiaa  af  five  crowns ;  but  tieventy-twu  's  a  blank,  as  you  see/' 

Bab  oertaioly  saw  that  seventy-two  was  a  blank ;  but  he  did  not 
aSMtljr  spprove  of  this  rapid  mode  of  counting.  He  had  nnt  been  at 
all  vavd  to  it :  he  couldn't  keep  up  with  It ;  and,  as  be  did  entertain 
■  ««gtt*  notion  thai  she  Imd  in  one  instance  made  a  alight  mistake,  he 
drtmioed  aa  counting  them  himself  the  next  time,  and  threw  again  ; 
mA  afafn  die  lady's  tongue  went  to  work,  like  the  clapper  of  an 
fllnsMvell,  and  wouldn't  stop  until  she  had  reached  sixty,  which,  of 
CBBraa.  was  a  blank.  Bob,  However,  was  not  satisfied.  He  began  to 
aMBt  UMielf;  but,  aa  he  proceeded,  the  lady  jo!ne<l  him,  being  anxi- 
«B  to  fvsder  hist  all  possible  assiKtance,  which  so  effectualiy  cmfused 
Ui  faltaUccts  that  be  found  himself  utterly  unable  to  count  at  all.  As- 
■■iriBg,  therefore,  on  comjiuUion,  that  Khe  was  right,  he  threw  the 
tIM  Mi*»  and  llirew  forty -eight,  which  the  experienced  eye  of  tba 
ladj  mam  detected^  and  she  ingeniously  made  fifty-six  of  tliem,  in  con- 
aatfaeBea  of  fbfty-eigbt  lieing  a  prize  of  three  sovereigus.  But  Bob 
anid  nat  waka  nfty-aix :  he  insisted  upon  having  time ;  when  the  lady 
laiMd  aftctionttely  at  two  gentlemen,  who  were  standing  by,  and  whof 
ai  tfary  |Mff«cirad  that  Bob  was  going  on  steadily,  made  a  sudden  sliglit. 
hot,  m  eOOTM,  purely  nccidentiU  rush  ;  and,  while  one  of  them  waa 
MUng  all  aorta  of  apologies,  the  other  dexterously  turned  over  one  of 
tit  Hem  ;  which  the  lady  no  aooner  perceived  than  she  exclaimed  with 
frasK  praprtety,  "  What 's  all  this  about  ?  What  do  you  iuttrrupt  tlie 
ftlaiMan  far  when  he's  a-counting?  You  ought  to  know  better. 
<j«  ao,  air  ;  pray  do  ;  and  take  your  time  about  it." 


STANLEY  THORN. 


Btab  Meortlinglf  coant^  tliem  again,  and  thea  wud,  "  Tlicre.  I  knew 
fm  WIS  wTfMig :  there 's  only  Bhy." 

"  Very  weU,  sir.      I  *U  take  yoar  word  for  it.     We  *re  all  on  na 

liable  to  error :  human  nature  can't  be  perfect.     Whatever  prixe  it  is 

you  shall  have,  sir-     Fifty.     Only  two  too  inanv.  sir.     Try  n^tain : 

I  tiun't  be  dowQ-hearted.     Forty-eight  'a  a  prize  of  tliree  pound.     Fifty» 

you  see,  is  a  blank." 

"  Why,  it  w'rt'  forty-eight,"  said  Bob's  friend,  "  before  that  man 
there  made  a  ivro  a  four  1 " 

Ib  an  initent  the  hat  of  the  individual  who  hail  thus  spoken  myst^- 
rifliulr  dropped  over  hiit  eyes.  It  was  not  at  all  too  large  fi>r  iiim  :  on 
the  ctuitmry,  it  was  rather  a  ti^ht  fit;  but  the  brim  on  either  side, 
oevprtheletis>  did  come  down  u[iuu  his  shoulders,  as  if  by  magic.  Bids 
in  a  moment  saw  how  the  case  stood ;  and,  being  anxious  for  bis  friend 
|o  appear  to  give  evidence,  flew  to  his  aid  ;  but  he  had  no  moncr  done 
80  tlinn  his  own  hat  went  down  in  the  some  most  remorkabic  manner. 

Xow  it  is  extremely  dilficult,  under  these  peniliiir  circumstances, 
for  a  man  to  face  the  world.  He  cannot  raipe  his  hat  with  either 
promptitude  or  comfort.  Should  he  happen  to  hare  anvthing  at  all  of 
Q  no^e,  the  tip  thereof  is  certain  to  catch  in  tlie  lining,  ^o  the  ancient 
Romans  this  ivould  have  been  abundantly  manifest ;  and,  probablv,  the 
children  of  Israel  of  this  our  day  weargitssamers,  without  any  lining  at 
all  on  this  very  account.  And  none  can  blame  them.  The  position  is 
excessively  disagreeable.  A  man  is  extinguished-  The  light  of  his 
countenance  is  gone.  He  looks  like  a  deaii)itated  individual,  feeling 
in  his  heart  for  the  thoughts  in  his  head. 

By  dint  of  some  extraordinary  and  perfectly  original  wriggling,  Bob 
eventually  managed  to  appear  ;  and  when  he  did  »>,  he  sliouk  himnelf, 
and  looked  round  fiercely  ;  but  the  gentlemen  whom  he  had  calculated 
U[Kin  seeing  had  vanishe<l ;  and  it  was,  indeed,  fortunate  for  them  that 
they  had ;  for  it  may  with  perfect  safety  be  recorded  that,  could  he 
have  grappled  with  them  then,  the  irregularity  of  the  features,  of  one 
of  them  at  least,  would  have  Iwen  truly  conspicuous. 

In  vnin  the  ludy  declared  that  no  die  had  been  turned;  in  vain  she 
pledged  her  honour  that  she  never  beheld  those  two  gentlemen  before 
lu  the  whole  course  of  her  life.  Bub  would  not  believe  her ;  and  he 
told  her  so  flatly,  and  rated  her  well,  and  put  it  plainly  and  distinctly 
to  her  whether  she  ought  not  to  be  aaliamed  of  her  conduct :  which 
BCcmnl  tu  touch  her  rather,  for  she  instantly  observed  that,  as  he  waa 
«M  exactly  satisfied,  ehe  would  consent  to  hi*  having  another  throw 
gnkis. 

"  Auother  throw !  "  cried  Bob,  with  an  expression  of  scorn ;  and  he 
nettlly  wot  very  much  disgusted  with  her  behaviour.  ''  I  '11  not  hove 
another  throw!  1  'II  have  nothing  more  to  do  with  you.  Now  1  know 
wh*k  vuu  are.  if  I  was  to  go  for  to  win  the  smallest  mite  of  your  money 
T    '      '  '  1 '   :  \  iiiyself  pisoncd  1 "     And,  hereupon,  be  quitted  the  spot 

lU  ui^v,  ^U-iLiU  saw  that  the  man  who,  being  pecuniarily  involved, 
Mtikt  to  rrtricve  himself  by  gambling)  is  a  foul ;  and,  having  made  ■ 
S  lahU*  roMdution  to  profit  by  the  experience  he  had  purchased 

'..  itf  ^•ruCtfdUtl  towards  town,  deeply  buried  in  rcfiection,  ftw 

Um  iA»  «Mh  WW  to  lie  paid,  and  how  his  heavy  half-and-half,  ale,  and 
houi[^-tfki>  wtOrr  kwaet  were  to  be  settled,  were  mysteries  which  had 


* 


I 


105 


GUY  FAWKES. 

AM    ailTOBICAL  KOMAftCV. 

BY  W.  HAKRISON  AINSWORTH,  ESQ. 

ILLUSTRATED    BY    GEORGE   CRIIIK«fliNK. 


BOOK  TUB   PISBT. 

CHArTKB    XVI, 

THE   COLLBCIATB  CIIUHCU    AT    MAHCHE8TER. 

BiDDiNO  Ketley  remaia  with  Guy  Fawkes,  Doctor  Dee  signi- 
'6cd  lo  Vivinna  thai  he  had  a  few  words  to  say  to  her  in  private 
before  his  departure,  and  leading  the  way  lo  an  adjoining  nKim, 
informed  her  that  he  was  aware  of  her  desire  to  have  her  father's 
rrmainii  interred  in  the  Collegiate  Church,  and  that,  bo  far  from 
oppoong  her  inclinations,  he  would  willingly  accede  to  thcra, 
ooly  recoininetiding  as  a  measure  of  prudence  that  the  ceremo- 
nial fthould  be  p<Tfomied  at  night,  and  with  as  much  secrecy 
m*  po<>»ible.  Viviana  thanked  him  in  a  voice  of  much  emotion 
fnr  his  kindness,  and  entirely  acquiesced  in  his  sugs*^*^""  of 
caution.  At  the  same  lime,  she  could  not  help  expressing  her 
Burprise  that  her  thoughts  should  be  known  to  him : — *'  Though, 
indeed,'^  she  added,  "  after  the  wonderful  exhibition  I  have  just 
witonAcd  of  your  power,  1  can  scjircely  conceive  that  any  limits 
ought  to  lie  placed  to  it." 

**  Few  thingK  are  hidden  from  mc,"  replied  Dee»  with  a  grati- 
fied »niile ;  —  **  even  the  lighter  mailers  of  the  heart,  in  ■wliich  I 
might  be  supposed  to  lake  liilte  iiileresti  do  not  altogether  elude 
my  obBcrvalion.  In  reference  to  this,  you  will  not,  I  am  sure, 
be  offended  with  me.  Miss  Radcliffb,  if  I  tell  you  I  have  noticed 
with  «ome  concern  the  attachment  that  has  arisen  between  you 
and  Humphrey  Chetham." 

Viviana  uttered  an  exclamation  of  surprise,  and  a  deep  blush 
jsffuMrd  her  pallid  cheeks. 

"  I  am  assuming  the  privilege  of  an  old  man  with  you,  Vivi- 
aaa,**  continued  Dee,  in  a  graver  tone,  **  and  I  may  add  ot  an 
dd  friend,  — for  your  lamented  mother  was  one  of  my  dearest 
aad  bett  friends,  as  you  perchance  called  to  mind,  when  you 
•nt  fne  to-day,  by  Mr.  Catesby,  the  token  I  gave  her  years  ago. 
Ymi  have  done  unwisely  in  inviting  Humphrey  Chetham  to 
tome  hither  to-night." 
I      •*  How  »  ?  -  she  faltered. 

'  ^  Becauae,  if  he  keeps  his  appointment,  fatal  consequences 
nay  cnaur,**  answered  Dee.  **  Your  message  has  reached  the 
tars  of  ot>e  from  whom, — most  of  all,— you  should  have  conceal- 
d  iL- 

**  Mr.  Catesby  has  heard  of  it,  I  know,"  replied  Viviana. 
I  "  Bat  you  do  not  apprehend  any  danger  from  him  ?** 

VOL.  rill.  I 


iv:  IVc,  "  and  will  slay 

\'.  fpcak  to  Mr.  Catesbv 
.r  'f  values  my  reganl,  to 
-   il  " 

-..':::^  his  brows,  contemptii- 
■   -    ...;;   ;ne  tliat  you  do   not  love 

J  M.     "  I  freely  acknowlcdiie 

-    :.'  <tri>nfj;  as  my  aversion  to  Mr. 

-    .i.ire  that  the  suit  of  his  rival 

v.jLi?"'  said  Dee. 
.-^LT,  —  and  this  he  well  knows,"  she 
IV   A-orldly  affairs  can  be  arran;;ed,   I 
,  .-.)  nunnery  at  Hrussels,  where  I  shall 

i;    intention,""  replied  Dee.     "  But  yon 
..  .ountry." 

t  ■  ■'  a*ked  Viviana,  uneasily. 
.  "tii  Dee.    "  Amongst  others,  this  meet- 

.1-.   'i-ime,  I  boseecli  you,  reverend  sir," 
(.>.  Chetham  will  never  be  other  to  me 

\v.     "  But   your   destiny  is   tint  the 

.  *a'.,  then  ?"  demanded  Viviana,  trem- 

!c  returned,  '*  all  it  is  needful  for  you 
re  carucr  is  mixed  up  with  that  of 
■  i   aMuern  yourself  about  what  is  to 
.  'vivnt  to  claim  your  attention." 

■.t;  "and   my  first  object  shall  be  to 
.    Humphrey  Chuthani  to  prevent  him 

rther  on  that  score,'"  returned  Dee. 

..  vs.'.^'  to  him.     As  regards  the  funeral, 

•vlay.     I  will  be  at  the  south  jxjrch 

,  -■*  ,it  midnight,  and  llobert  Burnell, 

^^■..  .mt  on  whom  I  can  depeml,  shall 

«    ■;   is  contrary  to  my  religious  opi- 

.    A   Kouiish  priest   to   perform   the 

.  .  «:th  Father  Garnet.      1  owe  your 

.■i\  «»d  will  pay  it  to  her  hu>baud 

,1.      snks  !  "  cried  Viviana,  in  a  voice 

V.V  "  I  would  ask  you  one  further 


OUY    FAWKES. 


107 


qaestion.  My  arl  has  maile  me  ncqtmintcd  llint  a  dark  and  dan- 
jierous  plot  is  liatcliin);  afrainst  tlu'  King  and  his  Government 
by  attain  of  the  Catholic  party.    Are  you  favourable  to  the  de- 

"I  am  ntji,*'  re])lied  Vivinnn,  firmly.  •*  Nor  can  you  regard 
il  wiih  more  horror  thiiti  myself."" 

"  1  was  sure  of  it,*"  ri'turncd  Dee.  "  Nevertheless,  I  am  glad 
to  have  mv  suppO!>ition  cuiifirmed  from  your  own  mouth." 

With  this,  he  moved  towards  the  door,  hut  Viviana  arrested 
bin  dofmriure. 

♦•St-iy*  reverend  sir,"  she  cried,  with  a  look  of  great  uneiisi- 
oe*8:  *'  if  you  are  m  posse^ition  of  this  dread  secret,  the  lives  of 
my  ruuipunionft  are  in  your  power.  You  will  not  betray  them. 
Or,  if  you  deem  it  your  duty  to  reveal  the  plot  to  tho&e  eudan- 
gcnxi  by  it,  you  will  give  its  contrivers  timely  warmng.*^ 

**  Kear  roihiiig/'  rejoinetl  r>ee.  "  I  cannot,  were  1  so  dis- 
posed, interfere  with  ihe  fixed  purposes  of  fate.  The  things 
rrvcailed  by  niv  familiar  spirits  never  pass  my  lips.  They 
■re  more  sacred  than  the  disclosures  made  to  a  priest  of  your 
faith  at  the  confessional.  The  bloodv  enterprise  on  which  these 
watots  are  bent  will  fail.  I  have  warned  Fawke^;  hut  my  warn- 
ing, though  conveyed  by  the  lips  of  the  dead,  and  by  other 
potent  conjurations,  was  unavailing.  1  would  warn  Caleshyaiid 
Garnet,  but  they  would  heed  me  not.  Viviana  Radcliffe,"  he 
continued,  in  a  solemn  voice,  "you  questioned  nie  just  now 
about  the  future.  Have  you  courage  to  make  the  same  demand 
from  your  dead  father?  If  so,  I  will  compel  bis  corpse  to  an- 
iwer  vou." 

*c3h!  ao  —  no,**  cried  Viviana,  horror-stricken;  "not  for 
vortda  would  I  commit  so  impious  an  act.  (.iladly  as  1  would 
know  what  fiiie  has  in  xlore  for  me,  nothing  should  induce  me 
lo  purchase  the  knowledge  at  so  dreadful  a  price." 

-  Farewell,  then,*'  said  Dee.  "  At  midnight,  at  the  south 
porch  of  the  CoUegiale  Church,  I  shall  expect  you." 

So  Mying,  he  took  his  departure;  and}  on  entering  the  gaU 
Wry,  perceived  Caiesby  bafclily  retreating. 

•'Aha  f  **  he  muttered.  **  We  have  had  a  listener  here.  Well, 
fto  matter      What  he  has  heard  may  prove  serviceable  to  him." 

H«  then  returnc<l  to  the  chamber  occupied  by  Guy  Fawkcs, 
■nJ  finding  he  had  dropf^ed  into  a  deep  and  tranquil  s1e(>p,  mo- 
tiooed  KelleVt  who  was  standing  by  the  bed^de  watching  his 
iJurob«n  with  folded  arm*,  to  follow  him,  and  bowing  gravely 
to  Garnet,  quitted  the  halh 

A*  hr  cro»*ed  the  court,  on  his  way  to  the  drawbridge,  Cates- 
by  auddcnly  threw  himself  in  his  path,  and  laying  his  hand 
upon  hi*  iword,  cried  in  a  menacing  voice,  —  ''J>octor  Dee, 
Dcithcr  you  nor  your  companion  shall  quit  the  hall  till  you  have 
■ilnDoIy  swnm  not  to  divulge  aught  pertaining  to  the  jJot,  of 
which  you  liavc  so  myfiteriously  oblaine<l  information." 

1  3 


10S 


r.UY    FAWKES. 


"  Is  tliis  my  recompense  for  rescuing  yoiir  comrade  from  the 
jaws  of  death,  air  ? "  replied  Dee,  sternly. 

*'  Tlic  necessity  of  the  case  must  plead  its  excuse,*^  rejoined 
Catcsby.  "  My  own  safety,  and  the  safety  of  those  leagued  with 
me  in  the  great  design,  require  that  I  should  lie  perfmptnr>'  in  my 
demand.  Did  1  not  owe  you  a  large  debt  of  gratitude  for  your 
resuscitation  of  Guy  Fawkes,  I  would  have  insured  your  secrecy 
with  your  life.     As  it  is,  I  will  be  content  with  your  oath.*^ 

*'  Fool  I  "  exclaimctl  Dec,  **  stand  aside,  or  1  will  compel  you 
to  do  so." 

*'  Think  not  to  terrify  me  by  idle  threats,"  relumed  Catesby. 
"1  willingly  acknowledge  your  superior  skill,  —  as,  indeed^  I 
have  good  reason  to  do, — in  the  science  of  medicine ;  but  I  have 
no  faith  in  your  magical  tricks.  A  little  reflection  has  shown  me 
how  the  knowledge  I  at  first  thought  so  wonderful  was  acquired. 
You  obtained  it  by  means  of  Martin  Heydocke,  who,  mounted 
on  a  swift  steed,  reached  the  College  before  me.  He  told  you  of 
the  object  of  my  visit, — of  Viviaua^s  wish  to  have  her  father  in- 
terred in  the  Collegiate  Church, — of  her  message  to  Humphrey 
Chetham.  You  were,  therefore,  fully  pre(>ared  for  my  arrival, 
and  at  first,  I  must  confess,  completely  imposed  upon  me.  Nay, 
had  1  not  overheard  your  conversation  just  now  with  Viviana,  I 
might  have  remained  y^^ur  dupe  stiil.  But  your  allusion  to 
Cheiham's  visit  awakenetl  my  suspicions,  and,  on  re-considering 
the  matter,  the  whole  trick  Hashed  up»in  me." 

**  ^Vhat  more?  "  demanded  Dee,  his  brow  lowering,  and  bis 
eyes  s|>arkling  with  rage. 

**Tiius  much,"  relumed  Catesby.  "  I  have  your  secret,  and 
you  have  mine.  And  though  the  latter  is  the  more  important, 
inasmuch  as  several  lives  hang  upon  it,  whereas  a  conjuror's 
worthless  reputation  is  alone  dependent  on  the  other,  yet  liolh 
must  be  kept.  Swear,  then,  not  to  reveal  the  plot,  and  in  my 
turn  1  will  take  any  oath  you  choose  to  dictate  not  to  disclose 
the  jugglery  I  have  detected." 

*•  1  will  make  no  terms  with  you,"  returned  Dee;  "and  if  I 
do  not  reveal  your  damnable  plot,  it  is  not  from  consideration  of 
you  or  your  associates,  but  because  the  hour  for  its  disclosure 
is  not  yet  arrived.  When  full  proof  of  your  guilt  can  be 
obtained,  then  rest  assured  it  will  be  made  known, — though  not 
by  me.     Not  one  of  your  number  shall  escape— not  one," 

Catesby  again  laid  his  hand  upon  his  sword,  and  seemed 
from  his  looks  to  be  meditating  the  destruction  of  the  Doctor 
and  his  assistant.  But  they  appeared  wholly  unconcerned  at  his 
glances. 

•'  What  you  have  said  concerning  Martin  Heydocke  is  false — 
as  false  as  your  own  foul  and  bloody  scheme,"  pursued  Dee. 
'*  I  have  neither  seen,  nor  spoken  with  him."" 

••  But  youriissistaut,  Edward  Kelley,  has,"  retorted  Catesbv» 
'*and  that  amounts  to  the  same  thing. 


GUY   FAWKES. 


109 


'*  For  the  ihird  and  last  time  I  cumniand  you  to  stand  aside,'' 
cried  Dee,  in  a  tone  of  conceiUratt'd  (ingcr. 

Catesby  laiigherl  aloud. 

**  What  if  I  refuse?  "  he  said,  in  a  jcerinj^  voice. 

I>cictor  Dee  made  no  answer  ;  but,  suddenly  drawing  a  RDiall 
phtal  from  beneath  his  robe,  cast  its  cuotents  in  Wis  o|>|Kinenl's 
foec  Blinded  by  the  spirit,  Cateaby  raised  his  hand  to  his  eye?, 
and  while  in  thiti  cundition  a  thick  cluth  wus  thrown  uver  his 
head  from  behind,  and,  despite  his  ruMstancc,  he  was  borne  off, 
ud  bound  with  a  strong  cord  to  an  adjoining  tree. 

Half  an  hour  ela|>scd,  during  which  he  exhausted  his  fury  in 
vain  onlcries  for  assistance,  and  execrations  and  menaces  against 
the  and  hi»  companion.  At  the  expiration  of  that  time,  hearing 
»tepi  appnioching,  he  called  loudly  to  be  relea^eil,  and  was  an- 
■wered  by  the  voice  of  Martin  Heydocke. 

*'  What  !  is  it  your  worship  I  l>ehold  ?" cried  Martin,  in  a  tone 
of  aiTected  ctimmiaeration.  "Alercy  on  us  !  what  has  happened? 
Hmve  the  rascally  searchers  been  here  again  ?  *' 

**  Hold  your  peace,  knave,  and  unbind  me,**  rejoined  Catesby, 
Ugrily.  **  I  shrewdly  suspect,"  headdeil,  as  his  commands  were 
obeyed,  and  the  cord  twined  around  his  arms  wns  unfastene<l, 
and  the  cloth  removeil, — "  I  shrewdly  KtiPiH'Ct,"  he  saiil,  fixing 
a  ■tern  glance  upon  Martin,  which  effectually  banished  the 
■oile  from  his  demure  countenance,  "that  you  have  hud  some 
abare  in  this  business." 

"What  It  your  worship?'' exclaimed  Martin.  "Not  the 
■lightest,  I  assure  you.  It  was  by  mere  chance  I  came  this  way, 
and,  perceiving  some  one  tied  to  a  tree,  was  about  to  take  to 
my  heels  when,  fancying  I  recognised  your  worship's  well* 
formed  legs,  I  ventured  forward." 

**You  shall  become  more  intimately  acquainted  with  my 
«onhip*s  boots,  rascal,  if  1  find  my  suspicions  correct,"  re- 
joined Catesby-  "  Have  you  the  effrontery  to  tell  nie  you  have 
nrver  seen  thiii  rope,  and  this  elolh  before  ?  " 

"Certes,  I  have,  your  worship,"  replied  Martin.  '*  May  the 
fir»t  hang  me,  and  the  last  serve  as  my  winding-sheet,  if  I  t>pcak 
Bot  the  truth  !  Ah,  now  I  look  agaiu,""  he  added,  pretending  to 
rxamtue  them,  **  it  must  be  a  horse-cloth  and  halter  from  the 
•table.     Peradventure,  I  have  seen  them." 

*•  That  t  will  be  sworn  you  have,  and  used  them  too,'"  rejoined 
Caleaby.  •*  I  am  half  inclined  to  lie  you  to  the  tree  in  my 
plaee.     But  where  is  your  employer?  —  where  is  Doctor  Dee  ?  " 

"  Doctor  Dec  is  not  my  employer,"  answered  Martin,  "  neither 
do  1  aerre  him.  Humphrey  Ghetham,  as  1  have  already  told 
your  worship,  is  my  master.  As  to  the  Doctor,  he  left  the  hall 
aovke  lime  »-ince.  Father  Garnet  thought  you  had  acrompanied 
him  oa  the  road.  I  have  seen  nothing  of  him.  Of  a  truth  I 
hive  Dot." 

Gatrtby  reflected  a  moment,  and  then  strode  towards  the 


110 


GUV    FAWKE8. 


hall,  while  Marlin,  with  a  secret  smile,  picked  up  the  halter  am 
ctolh,  anij'wilhclrew  (o  the  stable. 

Repairing   to   the  chamber   of  the  wounded  man»  Gates' 
found  Garnet  seated  by   his  couch,  and  related  what  had 
curred.      The  Jesuit    listened  with  jirofound  attention  to  tl 
recital,  and  on  its  conclusion  observed. — 

**  I   am  sorry  you   have  offended  Doctor  Dee,  my  son.     H 
might  ha%e  proved  a  good  friend.  As  it  is,  you  have  made  bira  a 
dangerous  enemy.^ 

**  He  was  not  to  bo  trusted,  father,"  returned  Catesbv.  **  But 
if  you  have  any  fears  of  him,  or  Kelley,   I  vill  speedily  set. 
them  at  rest."  '^M 

•' No  violence,  my  son,"  rejoined  Garnet.  "You  will  onl5r^ 
increaAe  the  mischief  you  have  already  occasioned.  I  do  not 
think  Dee  will  betray  us.  But  additional  circumspection  will 
\te  requisite.  Tarry  here  while  I  confer  with  Viviana  on  this 
Hubject.  She  has  apparently  some  secret  influence  with  the 
])octf)r  and  may  be  prevailed  upon  to  exerciM?  it  in  our  l^ehalf.^ 

It  was  long  before  Garnet  returned.     When  he  reappeared, 
his  looks  convinced  Catesby  that  the  interview  had  not  prove4^ 
satisfactory.  ^| 

**  Your  imprudence  has  placed  us  in  a  perilous  position,  my 
son,"  lie  observed.  *'  A'iviana  refuses  to  R\ieiik  to  Doctor  Dee  ua 
the  subject,  and  strongly  reprobates  your  conduct." 

Catesby's  brow  lowered. 

"There  is  but  one  course  to  pursue,*^  he  muttered,  rising, 
**our  lives  or  his  must  l)e  sacrificed.     I  will  act  at  once."^ 

"  Hold  I  "  exclaimed  Garnet,  aulhoritalively.  **  Wait  till  to- 
morrow ;  and,  if  aught  occurs  in  the  intcriin  to  confirm  your 
suspicions,  do  as  you  think  proper.     I  will  not  oppose  you." 

•'If  I  forliear  »u  long,"  returned  Catesby,  "it  will  not  be 
safe  to  remain  here." 

"  I  will  risk  it,^  said  Garnet,  "  and  I  counsel  you  to  do  the 
same.     You  will  not  leave  Viviana  at  this  strait." 

*'  I  have  no  such  thouglits,"  replied  Catesby.  '*  If  I  go,  fchc 
goes  loo." 

"  Then  it  will  be  in  vain,  I  am  sure,  to  induce  her  to  accom* 
pany  you  till  her  father  is  interred,"  observed  Garnet. 

"True,"  replied  CaUsby  ;  **l  had  forgotten  that.  We  shall 
meet  the  hoary  juggler  at  the  church,  and  an  opjxjriunity  may 
occur  for  txecuting  my  purpose  there.  Lniess  he  will  swear 
at  the  altar  not  to  betray  us,  he  slinll  die  by  my  hand." 

"  An  oath  in  such  a  cas«  would  \k  no  security,  my  son,'^  rc^ 
Innied  Garnet;  "and  his  slaughter  and  that  of  hi^c  com|»anion 
would  be  equally  ineHicacions,  and  greatly  prejudicial  to  our 
cause.  If  he  means  to  betray  us,  he  has  <I()nL'  so  alie.')d>.  Bui 
1  have  little  apprehension.  I  do  nut  think  him  welt  uftc^cted  1t*- 
wards  the  government,  and  I  eaimoi  but  think,  if  vou  had  mil 
thus  grossly  itwdtcd  him,  he  would  have  favourui  rather  than 


GUY    FAWKES. 


til 


apposed  our  flrsijjn.  If  he  was  sware  of  the  plot,  and  adverse  to 
il,  what  nerd  uns  there  to  exert  his  skill  in  behnlf  of  our  dving 
frienJ,  who,  but  for  him,  would  have  l)een,  ere  this,  a  lump  of 
liiek'ss  cUy  ?  No,  no,  my  son.  ^*ou  are  far  too  hnsty  in  your 
judjiment.  Nor  am  1  less  surprised  at  your  injustiee.  Over- 
Itwking  the  great  lieneHt  lie  lias  conferred  ujwn  us,  because 
Doctor  Dee  has  thwarted  some  trifling  scheme,  you  would  re- 
qirile  hiui  by  cutting  bis  throat." 

**  Your  rebuke  is  just,  father,*^  returned  Catesby.  **  I  have 
acted  heedlesslv-      Hut  I  will  endeavour  to  rejwir  my  error." 

'^  Enough,  my  son,"  replied  Ciarnet.  **  It  will  be  advisable 
to  go  well  armed  to  the  church  to-night,  for  fear  of  a  surprise. 
But  1  dMdl  not  absent  myself  on  that  account'* 

**  Nor  1,"  said  Calesby. 

TIm;  conversation  was  then  carried  on  on  other  topics  when 
ihcy  were  interrupted  by  the  entrance  of  Viviana,  who  came  to 
coa*ult  tliem  about  the  funeral.  It  was  arrau^^ed — since  better 
could  not  be  found — that  the  vehicle  used  to  bring  thither  the 
body  of  liie  unfortunate  knight  should  transport  it  to  its  last 
hoaie.  No  pcrsua.sions  of  Garnet  could  induce  Viviana  to  re- 
linqui^i  the  idea  of  attending  the  ceremony;  and  Calesby, 
th<HJgb  he  affected  the  contrary,  secretly  rejoiced  at  her  deler- 
minjilion.      Martin  Heydocke  was  next  despatched  in  search  of 

pftUutft  who  could  be  depended  upon,  and  the  rest  of  the  day 
m  paued  in  preparations  for  the  melancholy  business. 

Nighl  came,  and  all  was  in  readiness.  Viviana  to  the  last  io- 
dulgrd  a  hope  thai  Humphrey  Chetham  would  arrive  in  time  to 
allvod  the  funeral  with  her;  but,  as  he  did  not  ap|iear,  she 
eoBclud«d  he  bad  received  Doctor  Dee's  warning.  Muriin  Hey- 
docke was  left  in  charge  of  Lniy  Fawkes,  who  still  continued  to 
■lumber  deeply,  and,  when  within  half  an  hour  of  the  appoint- 
ed liuif,  the  train  set  out. 

They  were  all  well  mounted,  and  proceeded  at  a  slow  pace 
along  the  lane  skirting  the  west  bank  iif  the  Irwell.  The  night 
wa&  profoundly  dark;  and,  as  it  was  not  deemed  prudent  to 
c»rry  iorrhe«,  wmic  cure  was  requisite  lo  keep  in  the  right  road. 
Catr*liy  rode  Br%t,  and  was  followed  by  (mrnel  and  Viviana* 
after  whom  came  the  little  vehicle  containing  the  botly.  The 
rtmi  was  brou;;ht  up  by  two  attendants,  hired  by  Martin  Hey- 
docke ;  a  third  acting  as  driver  of  the  sorry  substitute  for  a 
bcanc  Not  a  woril  was  uttereil  by  any  of  the  party.  In  this 
ttcallhv  iiiaiiner  huh  the  imce-ixiwerful  and  Meulthy  Sir  William 
lUdclifl'o,  the  owner  of  the  whole  district  through  which  they 
were  parting,  conveyerl  to  the  burial-place  of  his  ancestors! 

In  fthortcr  time  than  they  Imd  allowed  themselves  for  the 
nry,  the  melancholy  cavalcade  reuched  Salford  Bridge,  ami 
ling  it  at  a  quick  |uice,  as  had  been  previously  arranged  by 
by,  arrivL-d  without  molestation  or  notice  (for  no  one  was 
ahroid  in  tJie  toun  at  that  hour,)  at  the  soDlheru  gate  uf  the 


112 


GUY    FAWKES. 


Collegiate  Church,  where,  it  may  be  remembered,  Guy  Fawkei 
had  witnessed  the  execution  of  the  Iwu  seminary  priests,  and  on 
the  spikes  of  which  their  heads  and  dismeinhereil  htxiies  were 
HOW  fixed.  An  old  man  here  presented  himself,  and,  unlocking 
the  gate,  informed  them  he  was  Hubert  Burnell,  the  sexton. 
The  shell  was  then  taken  out,  and  borne  on  the  shoulders  of  the 
two  assistants  towards  the  church,  Burnell  leading  the  way. 
Garnet  followed  ;  and  as  soon  as  Cate^by  had  committed  the 
horsL'fl  to  the  care  of  the  driver  of  ttte  carriage,  he  tendered 
his  arm  to  Viviana,  who  could  scarcely  have  reached  the  sacred 
structure  unsupported. 

Doctor  Dee  met  them  at  the  church  porch,  as  he  had  ap- 
pointed, and,  as  soon  as  they  had  passed  through  it,  the  dour 
was  locked.  Addressing  a  tew  words  in  an  under  tone  to  Vi- 
viana,  but  not  deigning  to  notice  either  of  her  companions.  Dee 
directed  the  bearers  of  the  body  to  follow  him,  and  proceeded 
towards  the  choir. 

The  interior  of  the  reverend  and  beautiful  fane  was  buried 
in  profound  gloom,  and  the  feeble  light  diffused  by  the  sex- 
ton s  lantern  only  made  the  darkness  more  palpable.  Go  en- 
tering (he  broad  and  noble  nave  nothing  could  be  seen  of  its 
clustered  pillars,  or  of  the  exquisite  pointed  arches,  enriched 
with  cinqucfuil  and  quatiefoil,  inclosing  blank  shields  which 
they  sup[K>rted.  Neither  could  its  sculptured  cornice ;  its 
clerestory  windows;  its  upper  range  of  columns  supjKjrting 
deuii-angels,  playing  on  musical  instiuments ;  its  moulded  roiif 
crossed  by  transverse  Ix-'am.s  enriched  in  the  interbticcs  with 
sculptured  ornaments,  be  distinguished.  Mo&t  of  these  archi. 
ti'Ctural  glories  were  invisible.  Hut  the  very  gloom  in  which 
they  were  shrouded  was  imposing.  As  the  dim  light  fell  upon 
pillar  after  pillar  as  they  passed,  revealing  their  moulding^, 
piercing  a  few  feet  into  the  side  ai^ics,  and  falling  upon  the 
grotesque  heads,  the  embattled  ornaments  anti  grotesque  tracery 
of  the  arches,  the  efFei;!  was  inexpressibly  striking. 

Nor  were  the  personages  inappropriate  to  the  sombre  scene. 
The  reverend  figure  of  Dee,  with  his  loohc  flowing  robe,  and 
long  white  heard  ;  the  priestly  gaib  and  grave  aspect  of  Garnet ; 
the  aoldicr-like  bearing  of  Caiesby,  his  armed  htel,  and  rapier- 
fKiint  clanking  upon  the  pavement;  the  drooping  Hgure  of 
Viviana,  whose  features  were  buried  in  her  kerchief,  and  whose 
sobs  wtre  distinctly  audible  ;  the  strangely-fashionetl  cofiin,  and 
the  uncouth  altendants  by  whom  it  wa^  borne  ; — all  constituted 
a  singular,  and  at  tticsame  time  detply-intore^iing  picture. 

Approaching  the  magnificent  screen  terminating  the  nave, 
they  passed  through  an  arched  gateway  within  it,  and  entered 
the  cnoir.  The  west-end  of  this  part  of  the  church  was  aft- 
signed  as  the  burial-place  of  the  ancient  and  honourable  family, 
the  head  of  which  was  about  to  be  deposited  within  it,  and  was 
designated,  fiom  ll*  circumstance,  the  "  lladcUffe  chancel."     A 


GUY    FAWKES. 


U3 


lonf^  slab  of  grey  marble,  iu  vrhicb  a  brass  plate,  displaying  the 
armorial  bearings  of  the  Ka<lclitfes,  was  inserted,  had  been  re- 
movnl,  and  the  earth  thruwti  out  of  the  cavity  beneath  it. 
KeUey»  who  had  assisted  in  making  the  excavation,  was  standing 
beside  it,  leaning  un  a  spade,  with  a  latitern  at  his  feet.  He 
drew  axide  as  the  funeral  train  approached,  and  the  shell  was 
drpudted  at  the  edge  of  the  grave. 

Picturesque  and  striking  as  was  the  scene  in  the  nave,  it  fell 
far  ithort  of  that  now  exhibited.  The  choir  of  the  Collegiate 
Church  at  Manchester  may  challenge  comparison  with  any  si- 
milar structure.  Its  thirty  elaborately-carved  stallit,  cnvereil 
»ilh  canopies  of  the  richest  tabernacle  work,  surmounteil  by 
niche«,  mouldings,  pinnacle!^,  and  perforated  tracery,  and 
ctuwdcnI  with  a  richly  sculptured  cornice ;  its  side  aisles, 
with  their  pillars  and  arches  ;  its  moulded  ceiling  rich  in 
th«  roost  delicate  and  fairy  tracery  ;  its  gorgeous  altar-screen 
of  carved  oak ;  and  it«i  magnifiLent  eastern  window,  then  filled 
vith  Uaioed  glass  furm  a  coup  if  ceil  of  almost  une^pialled  spleiH 
dour  ajid  beauty.  Few  of  tht^se  marvels  could  now  be  seen. 
But  such  points  of  the  pinnacles  and  hanging  canopies  of  (he 
■tails,  of  the  fii9ades  of  the  side-aisles,  and  of  the  fretted  roof, 
aa  received  any  portioD  of  the  light,  came  in  with  admirable 
effect. 

"  All  is  prepared*  you  jwrceive,"  observed  Dee  to  A^iviana. 
"  I  will  reure  while  the  ceremony  is  performed."  And  gravely 
inclining  his  head,  he  pa^sud  through  an  arched  door  in  the 
•outh  aisle,  and  entered  the  chapter-houi^e. 

Garnet  wa»  alwut  tu  proceed  with  the  service  appointed  by 
the  liiimish  Church  for  the  burial  of  the  dead,  when  Viviano, 
uttering  a  loud  cry,  would  have  fallen,  if  Catebhy  had  not  flouii 
to  tocr  a^staoce,  and  borne  her  to  one  of  the  stalls.  Hecover- 
iog  her  srlf-fiussekkion  the  next  moment,  she  entreated  him  tu 
Wav«  faer;  and  while  the  service  proceeded,  she  knelt  down  and 
prayed  fervently  for  the  soul  of  the  departed. 

Placing  hiniMrlf  at  the  foot  of  the  bmly,  Garnet  sprinkled  it 
with  boly  water,  which  he  had  brought  with  him  in  a  sm.iU 
silver  consecrated  vessel.  He  then  recited  the  De  Profuiidis, 
the  Jttisrrrre,  and  other  antiphons  and  prayers  ;  placed  mcemte 
in  a  burner,  which  he  had  likewiije  brought  with  him,  and  hav- 
ing lighted  it,  bowed  revt-rcnlly  towards  the  altar,  sprinkled  the 
faody  thrice  with  holy  water  at  the  sides,  at  the  head,  and  the 
fcct;  and  then  wolking  round  it  with  the  incense-burner,  dis- 
persed its  fragrant  odour  over  it.  This  done,  he  recited  an- 
oiber  prayer,  pronounced  a  solemn  benediction  over  the  place 
tif  nrpulture,  ami  the  body  was  lowered  into  i(. 

The  noise  of  the  earth  falling  upon  the  shell  roused  Viviana 
frum  her  devotions.  She  looked  towards  the  grave,  but  could 
nothing  but  the  gloomy  group  around  it,  proniintnt  among 

bich  jippvared  die  tall  Hgure  of  Cale»by.     The  bight  was  too 


114 


GUY    PAWKUS. 


much  For  her,  and«  unable  to  control  her  grief,  she  fainted. 
Meanwhile,  the  grave  wjis  rapidly  tilled,  all  lending  their  aid  to 
the  task;  ond  nothing  was  wantini;  but  to  restore  the  slab  to 
its  orif^nal  position.  By  the  nnilc<l  efforts  of  Catcsby,  KcUey, 
and  the  sexton,  thitt  wa^  soon  acconipHithed,  and  the  fi>rmer, 
unau-are  of  what  had  happened,  was  about  to  proceed  to  Viviana 
to  tell  her  uU  was  over,  when  he  was  arrested  by  a  loud  knock- 
ing at  the  church  door,  accompanied  by  a  clamorous  demand  for 
admittance. 

**  We  are  betrayed  !  '^  exclaimed  Catesby.  "  It  is  as  I  fiii&- 
i>ected.  Take  care  of  A''iviana,  father.  1  will  after  the  hoary 
impostor,  and  deave  his  skull.  Kxtinguish  the  lij^hts — quick  ! 
—quick!" 

Garnet  hastily  complietl  with  these  injunctions,  and  the  choir 
was  plunged  in  total  darkness.  He  then  rushed  to  the  stalls, 
but  could  nowhere  find  Viviana.  lie  calletl  her  by  name,  but 
received  no  answer,  and  was  continuini>:  his  fruitless  search, 
when  he  heard  footsteps  approaching,  and  the  voice  of  Catesbjr 
exclaimed, 

"  Follow  me  with  your  charge,  father." 

**AItts!  my  son,  she  is  not  here,"  replied  Garnet.  "I  hove 
searched  each  stall  as  carefully  as  I  could  in  tlie  dark.  1  fear 
she  has  been  spirited  away*" 

"Impossible!""  cried  Catesby.  And  he  ran  his  hand  along^ 
the  row  of  sculptured  seats,  but  without  success.  **  She  is  in- 
deed gone  !"  he  exchiimed,  distractedly,  '*  It  \vas  here  I  left 
her — nay,  here  I  beheld  her  at  the  very  moment  the  lights  were 
extinguished.     Viviana  ! — Viviana  I " 

But  dW  was  silent. 

"It  is  that  cursc-d  niagician^s  handiwork!^  he  ooDtiuued, 
striking  his  forehead  in  despair. 

*'  Did  you  lind  him  ?"  dtuiandcd  Garnet. 

**  No,"  replied  Catesby.  **  The  door  of  the  chapter-house 
was  lucked  inside.  The  treacherous  villain  did  well  to  guard 
against  my  fury." 

"  You  provoked  his  resentment,  my  sun,"  rejoined  Garnet. 
**But  this  is  not  a  season  for  reproaches.  Soumtliing  must  be 
done.      Where  is  Kelley  ?  " 

At  the  suggestion,  Catesby  instantly  darted  to  the  spot  where 
the  seer  had  stood.  He  was  not  there.  He  then  questioned  the 
assistants,  whu&e  teeth  were  chattering  with  fright,  but  they 
had  neither  heard  him  depart,  nor  could  tell  anything  about 
him;  and  |)erceiving  plainly  from  thfir  trcpidatiuu  that  these 
men  would  k-nd  no  aid,  even  if  they  did  nut  join  the  assailants, 
he  returned  to  communicate  his  apprehensions  to  Gurnet. 

During  all  this  time,  the  knockmg  and  v<K-iff rations  at  the 
dour  had  continued  with  increased  violence,  and  reverberated 
in  hollow  peals  along  the  roof  and  ai>les  nf  the  church. 

The  emergency  was  a  fearful  one.     Catc>by,  however,  had 


GUY    PAWKBS. 


ltd 


been  too  often  placed  in  situations  of  peril,  and  was  loo  constU 
tutionally  brnvc,  to  exjwricncc  mucli  unt-uMnL-.S!>  for  hinisflf;  but 
h%9  Jipprt^hensions  lent  Garnet  should  he  captured,  and  the  sud- 
drn  ami  myNtcrious  dihanpeHranee  of  Vivjana  ahnust  distracted 
liim.  Pensuadin^  hiniMtJf  she  nii^ht  have  fallen  to  the  ground, 
or  llut  he  had  overhxiked  the  precise  spot  where  he  had  left 
her,  he  renewed  his  search,  hut  with  no  better  success  than  be- 
forei  and  he  was  almost  hej^inning  to  believe  that  some  magic 
mig^l  have  been  practised  to  cause  her  disappearance,  when  it 
■^tcurretl  to  him  lliat  hlie  hud  been  carried  oft  by  Kelley. 

"  Kool  that  I  was,  not  to  think  of  iliat  before  !  "  lie  exclaimed. 
*^  I  have  unintentionally  aided  their  project  by  extincuishinj^tbe 
bghts.  But,  now  that  I  am  satisfied  site  is  gone,  I  can  devote 
my  whole  energies  to  the  preservation  of  Garnet.  They  shall 
atjt  capture  us  so  easily  as  tliey  anticifMite." 

With  this,  he  approached  the  priest,  and  grasping  bis  band, 
drew  him  noiselessly  along.  They  had  scarcely  passed  through 
tb«f  arched  doorway  in  the  screen,  and  set  foot  willn'n  the  nave, 
wbcn  the  clamour  without  ceased.  The  next  nioment  a  than* 
drring  crash  wa:t  heard,  the  door  burst  open,  and  a  number  of 
araiei)  figures  bearing  torches,  withdrawn  swiirdsin  their  hands, 
roabed  with  loud  vociferations  into  the  church. 

•*  \Vc  must  surreuder,  my  s«m,"  cried  (Jarnct.  "It  will  be 
unrlewK  tn  contend  against  that  furce.^ 

**  But  we  may  yet  escape  them,"  rejoined  Catcsby.  And 
gUnciag  liantily  round,  he  perceived  a  small  open  door  in  the 
wall  at  the  Hgtit,  and  pointing  it  out  to  the  priest,  hurried  to- 
wards it. 

^K  On  rc^ehiug  it,  they  found  it  communicated  with  a  flight  of 

^^^attinr  »teps,  evidently  leading  to  the  rouf. 

^^^^  **  Saved!  saved  !  ^  cried  Cate&by,   triumphantly.      "Mount 

^^P4r»t,  hlhcr.      I  will  defend  the  passage.*" 

^H  The  pursuers,  wlio  saw  the  course  taken  by  the  fugitives, 

^P      act   up  a  loud   shout,  and    ran   as  swiftly  us  they  cuuld  in   the 

I  gaiTW-  direction,  :ind  by  the  time  the  latter  had  gained  the  door 

II  ■  within  a  few  yards  of  it.    Garnet  darted  up  the  steps; 

II'  '     -by  lingered  to  make  fast  the  do«-»r,  and   thus  oppose 

seme  obstacle  to  ifie  hoslde  party.  His  eQurls,  however,  were 
uorxpcciedly  checked,  and,  on  examination,  he  found  it  was 
buukrd  to  the  wall  at  the  back.  Undoing  the  fastening,  the 
dtior  swun^  to,  and  he  instantly  buUed  it.  Overjoyed  ut  his 
•iicce*«, 'I'ld  leaving  his  pursuers,  who  at  this  moment  arrived, 
lu  vmt  their  diMp|Niinlnient  in  loud  menaces,  he  ha^tened  after 
Uarocl.  Calling  loudly  to  him,  he  was  answered  from  a  small 
^ark  diarober  on  the  right,  into  which  the  priest  luid  reircuted. 
*■*  Wo  have  but  prolonged  our  torture,"  groaned  Garuet.  **  I 
find  no  outlet.  Our  foes  will  speedily  force  an  entrance,  and 
'*»c  mujil  then  fidl  into  their  humls." 

'Tbcfe  nuisi  be  some  door  opening  upon  the  roof,  father^'* 


UUy    PAUKES. 


rqocDed  Cate«bV'  "  Mount  as  high  as  you  can  f^,  arnJ  scarcn 
(tnvfuUy.  1  will  defentl  the  stairis  and  will  undertake  to  main- 
tain my  post  against  the  whole  rout.*" 

Thus  urged,  Gjinict  au-seended  the  steps.  After  the  lapse  of  m 
Cew  miautea,  during  which  the  thundeno);  at  the  door  belowr 
increased,  and  the  heavy  blows  of  i<ome  weighty  implcnnent 
directed  against  it,  were  distinctly  beard,  he  cried, 

^^  I  have  found  a  door,  but  the  bolts  are  rusty  —  I  cannot 
move  them.** 

"  IJfe  all  vour  strenglh,  father,"  shouted  Cate*hy,  who  hav- 
iftg  planted  himself  with  his  drawn  sword  at  an  advanta^'ous 
point,  was  liMenin^  with  intense  anxiety  to  the  exertions  of  the 
assailing  parly.     '*  Do  not  relax  your  efforts  for  a  moment," 

*•  It  is  in  vain,  my  son,'*  rejoined  Garnet,  in  accent»  of  despair. 
•*  My  hand*  are  bruiseil  and  bleeding,  but  the  bolts  stir  not." 

•*  Distraction!''  cried  C-utesby,  gnashing  his  teeth  with  rage. 
"  Let  me  try." 

And  be  was  about  to  hasten  to  the  prie>t'8  assistance*  wbea 
the  door  below  was  burst  open  with  a  loud  crash,  and  the  assail- 
ants rusheil  up  the  steps.  The  passage  was  »u  narrow*  that 
they  were  compelled  to  mount  singly,  and  Cate»b^'s  was  scarce- 
ly a  vain  boai^t  when  he  saiil  he  could  maintain  his  ground 
against  the  whole  host.  Shouting  tu  Garnet  to  renew  his  ef- 
forts, he  prepared  fur  the  assault.  Reserving  his  petronels  to  the 
last,  be  trusted  solely  to  iiis  rapier,  and  leaning  against  the 
nevel,  or  circular  column  round  which  the  stairs  twined,  he  was 
in  a  great  measure  defended  from  the  wt'apons  of  his  adver- 
saries, while  they  wt-re  completely  ex [wseti  to  his  attack.  The 
darkness,  moreover,  in  which  he  was  enveloped  offered  an  ad- 
ditional protection,  whereas  the  torche*  ihey  carried  made  his 
iu«rk  certain.  As  sotm  as  the  foremost  of  the  band  came  wiihiu 
reach,  Catesby  plunged  his  swurd  into  his  breast,  and  pushed 
him  back  with  all  his  force  upon  his  comrades.  The  man  fell 
heavily  backwards,  dislodging  the  next  in  advance,  who  in  his 
turu  upset  his  successor,  and  so  on,  till  the  whole  band  was 
thrown  into  confusion.  A  discharge  of  tire-arms  followed  ;  but, 
sheltered  by  the  newel,  Catusby  su^taincd  no  injury.  At  ihia 
mouieut,  he  was  cheered  by  a  cry  from  Garnet  that  he  had  suc- 
ceeded in  furring  back  the  bolls,  terror  having  supplied  hitn 
with  a  strength  not  his  own  ;  and,  making  another  sally  upon 
bia  assailants,  amid  the  diuirdtT  that  ensuetl,  Catesby  retreated, 
umi  mpjtily  trucking  the  steps,  reacheil  the  door,  through  which 
'  \\ik\i  already  passed.     When  within  a  short  distance  of 

t  ,  t.  .ale»by  fell,  froni  the  current  of  fresh  air  that  saluted 

li  ii  o}H-uett  upon  the  roof  of  the  church.     Nor  was  he 

,j,  A  few  steps  placed  him   upon  the  leads,  where  he 

t.  .   uvl. 

^  -^in*  tried  the  latter,  on  beholding  him;  "  I 
^u^<)>    'V4.>  t  V   »lKtu'.syuu  hod  fallen  into  the  hands  of  the 


GUY   PAWKF.S. 


ii: 


■No,  Heaven  be  )iraijie<1 !  I  am  as  yet  safe,  and  triMt  to  dc- 
liver  jou  out  of  their  hands.  Cume  with  me  to  the  battle- 
inmtf." 

•*  The  battlements  !  **  exclaimed  Garnet.  "  A  leap  from  such 
a  height  as  that  were  certain  destruction." 

"  It  were  so,""  replied  Catesby,  dragging  him  along.  *'  But 
Inut  lo  me,  and  you  fihall  yet  reach  the  ground  uninjured." 

Arrived  at  the  battlement's  Cateshy  leaned  over  them,  and  en- 
citAvoured  to  ascertain  nhat  was  beneath.  It  was  f^tlU  so  dark 
that  he  could  scarcely  discern  any  objects  but  those  close  to 
bim,  but  as  far  as  he  could  trust  his  vision,  he  thought  he  per- 
ceiTed  a  projecting  building  some  twelve  or  fourteen  feet  below  ; 
■ad  calling  to  mind  the  form  of  the  church,  which  he  had  fre- 
c|uralljr  seeo  and  admired,  he  remembered  its  chantries,  and 
had  DO  doubt  but  it  was  the  roof  of  one  of  them  that  he  beheld. 
If  be  could  reach  it.  the  descent  from  thence  would  be  easy, 
and  he  ioimediately  communicated  the  idea  to  Garnet,  who 
riirank  aghast  from  it.  Little  time,  however,  was  allowed  fur 
COBsideratton.  Their  pursuers  had  already  scaled  the  stairs,  and 
were  springing  one  after  another  upon  the  leads,  uttering  the 
moM  terrible  threats  against  the  dcHtroyer  of  their  comrade. 
Haatily  divesting  himself  of  bis  cloak,  Catesby  clambered  over 
the  battlements,  and,  im|K-lled  by  fear.  Garnet  threw  off  his 
robes  and  followed  hi«  example.  Clinging  to  the  grotesque 
jftonr  watef'spouts  which  projected  below  the  battlements,  and 
plairing  the  fiuints  of  his  feet  upon  the  arches  of  the  clerestory 
vinduoti,  and  theoce  upon  the  mullions  and  transom  barst 
Cate»by  descended  in  safety,  and  then  turned  to  assist  his  com- 
panion, who  was  (juickly  by  hi&  side. 

Thr  mu!it  difficult  and  Jangerous  part  of  the  descent  was  yet 
lo  be  acc*>nipliHhetl.  They  were  now  nearly  thirty  feet  from  the 
ICTDund,  and  the  same  irregularities  in  tne  walls  which  had 
&vauml  them  in  the  upper  structure  did  not  exist  in  the  lower. 
But  their  present  position,  e\|)osed  as  it  was  to  their  pursuers, 
•bo,  having  reached  the  |K)int  immediately  overhead,  were  pre- 
|iariog  lo  fire  upon  them,  was  too  dangerous  to  allow  of  its  oc- 
cupation for  a  u)on)et)t,  and  Garnet  required  no  urging  to  make 
hni  c]anil>er  over  the  low  einhattleil  parapet.  Descending  a 
flying  buttreM  rhat  defended  an  angle  of  the  building.  Gates- 
bj,  who  was  posseiised  of  great  strength  and  activity,  was  al- 
most instantly  upon  the  ground.  Garnet  was  not  so  fortunate. 
H tawing  his  fiHiting,  he  fell  from  a  considerable  height,  and 
faU  ^onna  pruclaimed  that  he  had  recelveil  some  serious  in- 
Jarr*  Catesby  instantly  flew  to  hiui,  and  demanded,  in  a  tone 
of  tile  greatest  anxiety,  whether  he  was  much  hurt. 

••  Mv  right  arm  is  broken,"  gasped  the  sufferer,  raising 
himielf  with  difficulty.  *'  What  other  injuries  I  have  sustained 
1  know  not ;  but  every  joint  seems  dislocated,  and  my  face  is 
covcftd  with  bloud.     I^eaven  have  pity  on  me  !  " 


ns 


GUY    PAWKES. 


As  he  spoke,  a  shout  of  exiiltatiun  arose  from  the  hostile' 
party,   who  having  heard  (larnct'.s  fall,    and  the   groans  that  i 
succeeded  it,  at  once  divined  the  cause,  and  made  sure  of  a  cap- 
ture.    A  deep  silence  followed,  proving  that  tbcy  had  quitted 
the  roof,  and  were  hastening  to  secure  their  prey. 

Aware  that  it  would  take  them  some  httle  time  to  descend  the 
winding  Biaircase,  and  traverse  llie  long  aisle  of  the  church, 
Catesby  felt  certain  of  distancing  them.  But  he  could  not  aban- 
don Garnet,  who  had  become  iufien&ible  from  the  a^ony  of  hia 
fractured  limb,  and  lifting  him  carefully  in  his  arms  he  placed 
him  uf)on  his  shoulder,  anil  started  at  a  swift  pace  towards  the 
further  extremity  of  iho  churchvard. 

At  the  {x'riod  of  this  history,  the  western  boundary  uf  the 
Collegiate  Church  was  coveretl  hy  a  precipitous  sandstone  rock,-"' 
of  great  height,  the  base  of  which  was  washed  by  tlie  waters  of 
the  Irwell,  while  its  summit  was  guarded  by  a  low  stone  wall. 
In  after  years,  a  range  of  small  habitations  was  built  upon  this 
spot,  but  they  have  been  recently  removed,  and  the  rock  haviug 
been  lowerecf,  a  road  now  occupies  their  site.  Nerved  by  des- 
peration, Catesby,  who  was  sufficiently  well  acquainted  with  the 
locality  to  know  whither  he  was  8ha]>ing  his  course,  detennined 
to  haxard  a  descent,  which,  under  f;almor  circumstances  he  would 
Lhave  deemed  wholly  impracticable.  His  pursuers,  who  issued 
from  the  church  iK)rch  a  few  seconds  after  he  had  passed  it,  «iw 
him  hurry  towards  the  low  wall  ed^in^  the  precipice,  and,  encum- 
bered as  he  was  with  the  priest,  vavdt  over  it.  Not  deeming  it 
possible  he  would  dare  to  spring  from  such  a  height,  they  darted 
after  him.  But  they  were  deceived,  and  could  scarcely  cretlit 
their  senses,  when  they  found  him  gone.  Holding  down  their 
torches,  they  perceived  him  shooting  down  the  almost  fxrrpendi- 
cular  side  of  the  rock,  and  the  next  moment  a  huUow  plunge 
told  that  he  had  ri'ached  tlic  water.  They  stared  at  tach  other 
in  mute  astonishment. 

"Will  you  follow  him,  Dick  Haughlon?"  observed  one,  as 
soon  as  he  had  recovered  his  speech. 

**  Not  I,"  replied  the  fellow  addressed.  **  I  have  uo  fancy  for 
a  broken  neck.  Follow  him  thyself  if  thou  bust  a  mind  to  try 
the  soundness  uf  thy  pate.  I  warrant  that  rock  will  put  it  to 
the  proof." 

•'  Vet  the  feat  lias  just  been  dune,  and  by  one  burthened  with  a 
wounded  comrade  into  the  bargain,'"  remnrke<1  the  Hrst  speaker. 

**  He  must  be  the  devil,  that  's  certain,'"  rejoined  Haughtoii, 
"and  Doctor  Dec  himself  is  no  match  for  him.""* 

*'  He  has  the  devil's  luck,  that  \  certain,"  cried  a  third  soldier. 
'*  But  hark!  he  is  swimming  across  the  river.  We  may  yet 
catch  him  on  the  opposite  bank,     ikune  along,  comrades.** 

With  this,  tliey  rushed  out  of  the  churchward  :  made  the  best 
of  their  way  to  the  bridge ;  and  crossing  it,  flew  to  the  bank  of 
the  river,  where  they  dispersed  in  every  direction,  in  search  for 


GUY    PAWKES. 


119 


the  fuRUtvc.     But  they  could  not  discover  a  trace  of  him,  or  his 
wounded  companion. 


CHAPTER  xvn. 

TRB     RENCOUNTER, 

Catssby  himself  could  scarcely  tell  how  he  accomplished  hi« 
hairhreadth  escape.  Reckless  almost  of  the  result,  he  slid  down 
the  nick.  calchinj»  at  uccasiniml  irrpgularitics  as  he  descended. 
The  river  wa*  of  »;reat  depth  at  this  point,  and  hroko  the  force 
of  hi;*  fall.  On  risinp,  he  struck  out  a  few  yards,  and  suiforcd 
himfflf  lo  he  carried  down  the  stream.  He  had  never  for  one 
noment  relinquished  hU  hold  of  Oarnet,  and  he\uf^  an  admirable 
swimmer,  found  no  difficulty  in  sustaining  him  with  one  arm, 
while  with  the  other  he  guided  his  course  in  the  water.  In  this 
way,  he  reached  the  shore  in  safety,  about  a  hundred  yards 
below  the  bridj^c,  by  which  means  he  avoided  his  pursuers, 
who,  as  has  just  been  slated,  searched  for  him  above  it. 

After  debating;  with  himself  for  a  short  time  as  to  what  course 
be  ahould  pursue,  he  decided  upon  conveying  Garnet  to  the  hall, 
where  be  could  pnx-ure  restoratives  and  asfiistance  ;  and  though 
be  waa  fully  M-tisihle  of  the  danger  of  this  plan,  not  doubting 
die  mansifm  would  be  visited  and  searched  by  his  pursuers  be- 
fore morning,  yet  the  necessity  of  warning;  Ouy  Fawkes  out- 
weighed every  other  consideration.  AccurcVingly.  again  shoul- 
dering the  priest,  who,  though  he  had  regained  his  sensibility, 
vaa  utterly  unable  to  move,  he  commenced  his  toilsome  march  ; 
■■d  being  frequently  ohliged  to  pause  and  rest  himself,  it  was 
mon  0«in  an  hour  before  he  reache<l  his  declination. 

Il  was  just  growing  light  as  he  crossed  the  drawbridge,  and 
Mcring  a  horse  tied  to  a  tree,  and  the  gate  o|>en,  he  began  (o 
femr  ihe  enemy  had  preceded  him.  FuU  of  misgiving,  he  laid 
Garnet  upon  a  iicap  of  straw  in  an  outbuilding,  and  entered  the 
hoo«.  He  found  no  one  1k?1ow,  though  he  glanced  into  each 
roofn.  He  then  noiselessly  ascended  the  stairs,  with  the  intention 
of  proceeding  to  Guy  Fawkcs's  chamber. 

A*  lie  traverscil  the  gallery,  he  heard  voices  in  one  of  the 
diambcrs,  the  door  of  which  was  ajar,  and  pausing  to  listen,  dia- 
ifoguichcd  the  tones  of  Viviana.  Filled  with  astonishment,  he 
wait  ab<iut  to  enter  the  room  to  inquire  by  what  means  she  had 
irached  the  hall,  whc-n  he  was  arrested  by  the  voice  of  her  com- 
paiiion.  It  was  that  of  Humphrey  Chetham.  Maddened  by 
jtftlousy,  Cattsby^s  first  impulse  was  to  rush  into  the  room  and 
■tab  his  rival  in  the  presence  of  his  mistress.  But  he  restrained 
bin  pauion  by  a  powerful  eifurt. 

After  limening  fur  a  few  minutes  intently  to  their  conversa- 
Uoa,  he  found  that  Chetham  was  taking  leave,  and  creeping  soft- 
ly down  stairs,  stationed  himself  in  tne  hall,  through  which  lie 
knew  his  rival  niu»t  necesj^arily  pasu.     Chetham   presently  ap- 


120 


GUT    FAWKES. 


peared.  His  manner  wns  dejected  ;  Ms  looks  downcast ;  and  lie 
would  have  passed  Catesby  without  observing  him,  if  the  lalter 
liiid  not  laid  his  liand  iiiHiii  his  shoulder. 

"  Mr.  Catesby  !  *"  exclaimed  the  yoiinj^  merchant,  startinf;  as 
he  hehtOd  the  stern  jjlance  fixed  upon  him.     '*  I  ihought  — — " 

"You  thought  1  was  a  prisoner,  no  doubt,"  interrupted 
Catefiby,  bitterly.  "  Hut  you  are  mistaken.  I  am  here  to  con* 
found  you  and  your  juggling  and  treacherous  associate.^ 

**  I  do  not  understand  you,"  replied  Chetham. 

•*  I  will  soon  make  myself  intelligible, '  retorted  Calesb)*. 
•'  Follow  me  to  the  garden.'*' 

"  I  perceive  your  purpose,  Mr.  Catesby,*'  replied  Chetham, 
calmly  ;  ^'^  but  it  is  no  part  of  my  principles  to  expose  my  life  to 
ruffianly  violence.  If  you  choose  to  lay  aside  this  insolent  de- 
meanour, which  is  more  befitting  an  Alsatian  bully  than  a  gentle- 
man, I  will  readily  give  you  such  explaimtiun  of  my  conduct  as 
wilt  fully  content  you,  and  satiitfy  you  that  any  suspicions  you 
may  entertain  of  me  are  unfounded.** 

**  Coward  !**  exclaimed  Catesbv,  striking  him.  "1  want  no 
explanation.  Defend  yourself,  or  I  will  treat  you  with  still 
greater  indignity." 

"  Lead  on,  then,*^  cried  Chetham,  **  I  would  have  avoided 
the  quarrel  if  I  could.  But  this  outrage  shall  not  pass  ui>- 
punished." 

As  they  quitted  the  hall,  Viviana  entered  it ;  and,  though  slie 
was  greatly  surprised  by  the  appearance  of  Catesby,  his  furious 
gestures  left  her  in  no  doubt  a^  to  his  purpose.  She  called  to 
him  to  stop.  But  no  attetition  was  paid  by  either  party  to 
her  cries. 

On  gaining  a  retired  spot  beneath  the  tree%  Catesby,  without 
giving  his  antagonist  time  to  divest  himself  of  the  heavy  horse- 
man's cloak  with  which  he  was  incumbered,  and  scarcely  to 
draw  his  sword-  assaulted  him.  The  combat  was  furious  on  both 
sides,  but  it  was  evident  that  the  young  merchant  was  no  match 
for  his  adversary.  He  maintained  his  ground,  however,  for 
some  time  witli  great  resolution  ;  but,  being  hotly  pressed,  in 
retreating  to  avoid  a  thrust,  his  foot  caught  in  the  long  grass, 
and  he  fell.  Catesby  would  have  passed  his  sword  through  his 
body  if  it  had  not  been  turned  aside  by  another  weapon.  It 
was  that  of  Guy  Fawkes,  who,  followed  by  Martin  Heydocke, 
had  staggered  towards  the  scene  of  strife,  reaching  it  just  in 
time  to  save  the  life  of  Humphrey  Chetham. 

**  Heaven  be  praised  !  I  am  not  too  late  \  "  he  exclaimed. 
"Put  up  your  blade,  Catesby ;  or,  turn  it  against  me." 


ISl 


JOHN  BULL  ABROAD. 


In  Jnrky  Rnll.  irhvn  hound  for  Franre, 

A  gn^ting  yoii  di»cw«r  ; 
But,  Lnii|<lit  tu  ride,  u>  renor,  and  dsnee, 
A  fiiiiahril  ffoonK  coma  over. 

Willi  lii«  tit-rve  and  his  cirW.  hn  !  lu! 
And  bit  cotilluu  m>  smiu't,  la  !  U ! 
Ue  cbarnu  cacb  firiniiic  Iteart,  uli !  la  ! 
Sec  Jkcky  returned  to  Durerl 

0»KEEPt. 


CKKTAmtiV   "the   nation   of  shopkeepers"   has   offered   to   our 

irfi  nrighbours  as  many  admirable  siibjecta  for  satire,  and  its 

ler  hubstilute,  ridicule,  as  must  have  almost  palled  the  appetite 

_  people  so  peculiarly  alive  to  the  ridiculous.     It  has  been  well 

id  of  me  Scotch  that  tlicy  send  their  wise  »nn«  abroad,  and  keep 

ir  fools  at  home.     The  English  appear  to  have  revcrked  the  pro- 

and  send,  with  some  few  of  their  wise,  a  prodigious  portion 

ibiir  fools  across  the  citannel. 

I  Iwve  been  led  into  these  reflections  by  a  long  residence  on  the 
Contiaent,  where  (making  myself,  i>erhaps,  one  of  the  number  I  have 
last  mentioned)  I  have  witnessed  an  amazing  influx  and  reflux  of 
nry  countrymen,  not  without  some  surprise,  as  well  ns  pain.  Tliat 
lie  celebrateil  over  the  civilised  world  for  the  comforts  of  their 
fe«tic  habits, — and,  generally  ^jieakinfi;,  no  less  remarkable 
tfaeir  aterling  sense, — should  voluntarily  present  themselves  as  so 
ly  monsters  of  absurdity  for  exhibition  in  the  very  heart  of  the 
Krmch  duniinions.  is  an  instance  of  fatuity  which  nothing  but  uii 
utter  unconsciousness  of  their  own  peculiarities  ^  which  somewhat 
dMracta  from  their  repulntion  fur  wisdom — can  possibly  account  for. 
Thrre  is  not,  perhaps,  in  the  world  a  nation  so  keenly  susceptible 
oftlw  ridiculous  as  the  French  ;  and,  above  all,  the  inhabitants  of 
thp  rnrtrniKiUs  are  nlive  to  this  mirth -pro  yoking  tendency.  This, 
tbrrrfure,  beyond  all  others,  as  if  by  some  power  of  fascination,  our 
~  liah  emigrants,  who  have  more  money  than  wit,  consider  as 
r  main  object  of  locomotive  attraction. 
Tbithcr  flock  thousands  with  no  other  view  than  to  spend  money, 
ItiU  time.  Thither  resort  other  thousands  (strange  to  say)  la 
IT  money,  and  g/iifi  time  to  adjust  their  own  embarrHssed  affairs 
botae.  Thither  repair  many,  from  no  un praiseworthy  curiosity  ; 
_  I  tliitber  a  few  from  a  pure  desire  to  become  acquainted  with  the 
Inilitutii/nfl,  cuKltmis,  and  manners  of  a  nation  celebrated  for  so 
Wtmy  4gv>  for  tlietr  pre-eminence  in  |K>liticti)  jurisprudence,  in  sci« 
mucm,  and  those  polite  arts  which  give  a  zest  to  lite  and  a  polish  to 
•oclrty.  From  Oie  fir»t  two  clashes  I  have  named  ore  to  be  selected 
Ik*  sabjecta  f>f  my  remark  at  <itjirting.  Some  few  instances,  indeed, 
MijAt  be  fairly  selected  from  the  third  ;  and  I  well  remember  when 
•U  nm  was  in  ecsUisy  on  the  visit  uf  a  wurthv  knight,  long  distin- 
gttfafctd  «t  borne  as  a  lawyer  of  proftunid  learning,  and  raised  by  hia 
tdaaCaaione  to  a  new  and  high  dignity  in  his  profession,  who  had 
lh«  lurprising  absence  of  reflection  to  print  his  nama  on  his  visituig- 
ticluta*^ 


:\'.\l\ 


„ynii.\SD. 


-    ■  .10  were  better  acquaintc-::  -p.-J: 

-..  I.,    -ur  own  popuiatioii,  infj.*:'/ 

■   15  :u:o"ii>gy,  mui  ali  Paris  ^^Es  :r.  & 

..,::-.Lr.  at  least  in  that  state  of  t:::t:- 

:->i.:iii:e(i  by  the  circulation  of  rj^Lr.y 

■(  L'  mots. 

IS  -?i-'jJucetl  by  the  visit  of  a  fnT.Ct- 

'.i-.-'.y  ;  a  man  of  solid  untlerstaiiiiirj 

.:iu  '.tms,  been  distinguished  in  the  p- 

■     n  !iavin<;  twice  successively  filled  the 

usurious  fur  the  part  he  had  taken  :n 

.    ;...-tui  occurrences  relating  to  Queen  Caro- 

.ti-..L'J  from  his  friend,  Henry  Brougham. 

o..-,  tile  honour  of  being  descril>ed  as  a  cuun- 

■■,>L  lUoiidhcr  ofahsoliili'  trisihm." 
■  .filing  I'aris  after  his  second  mayoralty,  ac- 
..I  uinuuncing  himself  as 

Mr.  .M W , 


■  ■;'  Mi!:/ur  dc  Loitilres  !  " 

i,i  :>e   stiuihs   which   were   sent   xparkHmr 

^v':i-:jns:  but  as  I  believe  neither  of  the 

.le  language,  so  far  as  tfictf  were  conceni- 

..  .T.  perhaps  unluckily,  they  lost  the  op- 
,v.vd- humoured  laugh  at  tlieir  own   ex- 

.    i  something  like  habits  of  retirement,  I 

..■:  uhen  a  letter,  which  proved  to  be  one 

■  '^'nation   of  English  visiters,  was  pre- 

.-.  confess  with  national  shame,  but  with 

.rt.  been  induced  to  avoid,  as  much  as 

•  :l-.e  natives  of  my  own  country.  No  ill- 

.    thi^  seclusion,  I  solemnly  declare.     I 

-.  ■  J.  for  purposes  of  my  own,  and  felt  ex- 

.  i.vd  that  a  valued  friend,  who  knew  my 

-«•,  rccpiircd  my  personal  attentions  to  a 

»  1.-W  to  tlie  contrary,  wholly  out  of  my 

.  .,    vitrusion,  if  truth  must  be  told,  was 

..    Tcious  of  privacy  and  study  which  had 

^v-  i-c  a  resident  on  the  Continent.     My 

.   ..  .^-r  painful,  yit^lded  of  course  to  a  ne- 

.  „   '.  without  scri(Uis  oflence  to  a  much- 

.    St  .Kihn  and  J^ady  Sonkin  witli  feel- 

w!ut  undertakes  a  forlorn-hope  at  a 

■  .',»  his  duty,  heartily  ho]>es  to  hear  a 

■  "cnt  behind  him. 

.nul  soon  returned. 

^         --n  Sonkin,  or  SiHikin,  as  I  had  at 

■I.',  .ichicved  the  honour  of  knight- 

.,   t.'Jrc^s  to  J^ajc^ty  ;  and  as  a  title, 

s.,    ;s  always  something,  independent- 


JOHN    BULL   ABROAD. 


1S3 


ily  of  m J  friend'i  introduction  I  felt  really  anxious  (nr  more  pro- 
Pprrlv  vpeakin^.  nervous,)  as  to  the  precise  manner  in  which  I  shoiiM 
conaurt  niyscU'.  However,  when  1  saw  at  my  first  interview  a  cer- 
tain amnl>or  of  ihc  family,  I  must  confess  that,  in  despite  of  my  pre- 
judices^ I  began  to  encournije  some  hope  that  ray,  at  first  relucLint, 
cirilitjcs  would  meet  with  san»cthing  like  a  commensurate  reward. 

Sir  John  w-as,  indeed,  what  a  Frenchman  would  call  a  perfect  spe- 
cimen of  our  national  character.  He  was  tall,  to  be  sure ;  but  he 
was  proportionably  bulky.  He  stood  very  nearly  six  feet  high  in  bis 
ilioes ;  and  unquestionably  measured  nearly  two  yards  in  circum- 
ference in  liii  clothes !  He  was  not  less  proud  of  his  stature  than 
hi*  bulk,  nor  exulted  less  in  his  bulk  than  in  his  stature.  He  was 
prood  of  a  Tery  hand!H>me,  though  not  well-e<lucated  wife  ;  and  not 
lea  pnnid  of  a  beautiful  progeny.  Legitimate  and  honest  sources  of 
anch  ferlinfTs.  let  the  world  say  what  it  may  ;  but,  unluckily,  he  had 
Mmather,  which  was  even  paramount  to  these,  which  was  a  pride  of 
ivcttltb! 

He  began  with  consulting;  me  as  to  the  best  and  most  becoming 
mode  of  establishing  himself  and  family  fur  a  ^cw  months  in  Paris  ; 
jpvine  me  to  understand  that  money  was  no  object ;  that  he  had  no 
anbition  to  vie  with  ]>erson^  of  superior  distinction  ;  but  was  mere- 
ly doirous  to  support  hiK  fttrn  rank-  in  n  proper  manner.  I  pointed 
•nt  a  spacious  hotel,  which  hail  just  been  vacated  by  Lord  h  • 
and  his  family. 

"Oh  !  Lord  L !  "  he  observed.    "  I  know —  out  at  elbows ! — 

Imng'  in  Paris  for  the  last  two  years  to  retrench  I     We  will  have 
•oncthing  l>rtter  than  tJiaf,  at  all  events." 

I  presently  discovered  the  sort  of  person  J  had  to  deal  with,  and 
•«ttled  bim  in  a  few  days  lo  his  heart's  content  in  a  residence  fit  for 
an  Engliiili  Duke. 

The  family  consiiited  of  the  knight  and  his  lady  ;  three  really 
ning  and  unaffected  girls,  who  answered  to  the  plain  Knglish 
_  _  _  I  of  Alarv,  Susan,  and  Kate  ;  and  two  fine  lads,  who  were  re- 
cognixcd  by  the  equally  simple  8]>onHorial  appellations  of  John  and 
James  ;  a  governess,  intr(Nluce<l  to  mc  as  Miss  Turner  ;  a  lady's  own 
maid,  whom  I  heard  calletl  JtHttif  ;  Air.  Taylor,  the  tutor  of  the 
boja;  Robert,  the  coachman  ;  and  Joseph,  the  footman.  The  only 
Mnainiog  members  of  the  family,  that  were  not  introduced  to  the 
4sAm  or  the  xaite,  were  four  stately  coach-horses,  atul  a  Danish  dog, 
their  insefwirable  companion.  This  was  the  Air-stock  of  the  family. 
InBumerable  tru[ik»,  boxes,  chests,  portmanteaux,  and  carpet-bags, 
with  divers  hampers  of  port  wine,  bottle<l  porter,  and  a  prodigious 
Cheshire  cheese,  I  had  the  superlative  pleasure  of  seeing  safely 
depocited  in  the  residence  of  the  new  comers. 

A»  my  first  repugnance  to  have  my  privacy  invaded  ginduiilly 
nibtidrd,  I  went  ihrtiugh  the  really  distressing  office  of  Cicerone 
with  some  dc^ee  of  amusement  as  /  listened  to  the  remarks  of  the 
pwty  by  whom  1  wa^  attended ;  and,  ns  a  purposed  residence  for 
toMt  wumlhg  of  my  new  acquaiiit.inces  had  thrown  me  almost  into  an 
agony  of  despair,  it  was  not  without  some  surprise  and  great  plea- 
Mrs  that  \  found  in  the  conversation  of  the  worthy  knight  a  fund  of 
Inlamiatjon  relating  to  the  commerce  of  my  own  countrj-,  which  was 
■hagetfaer  OS  amusing  as  it  was  instructive;  but,  even  this  swcet- 
mtU  of  the  cup  of  which  1  was  compelled  to  sip  was  not  without  iu 

K    l 


IS-t 


JOHN    BULL    ABROAD. 


dash  of  bittemeBS.  Every  arpumeiU.  however  originiitetl,  tendeiu 
to,  !"ul  Jit  last  endpil  in  the  mode  of  acquiring  and  improving  wealdi, 
and  the  eternid  burden  of  the  sonj;  sounded  at  lost  somewhat  harsh- 
ly on  the  ears  of  one  so  t>traitciu*d  In  re^ourceii  as  myself:  but,  as  I 
saw  that  no  offence  was  intended,  of  course  none  was  taken. 

The  conversation,  ag  well  as  the  person,  of  the  lady  was  of  a  very 
different  description.  Her  form  waa  not  above  the  miihUe  hcig-ht, 
rcnuirkably  (-light,  though  well-proportioned  ;  her  faee,  as  I  hiive  be- 
fore hinted,  was  very  handsome,  but  conveying  the  idea  of  a  deli- 
cate cooBtitulion,  as  her  figure  indicated  a  fragile  strutture.  These 
characteristics  were  corrolxiratcd  by  extreme  habitun]  languor,  which 
led  the  casual  observer  to  conclude  that  she  was  sickly,  if  not  ac- 
tually sulfering :  and,  on  my  expressing  that  opinion  tu  Sir  Juhn» 
he  indulged  in  a  hearty  laugh,  and  assured  me  that  Lady  Sonkio  had 
a  constitution  of  steel.  That  he  had  never  known  her  ill  for  an  hour 
since  they  married ;  and  that  even  in  her  confinements  when  she 
increased  hi^  family,  she  was  unlike  all  otlier  women,  and  would 
never  consent  to  be  imprisoned  beyond  a  single  week  in  her  own 
chamber.  He  then  spoke  in  high  terms  of  her  domeiitic  character, 
and  ended  by  observing,  "We  all  have  our  little  weaknesses.  iVIr. 

N ,  and  Lady  Sonkin  is  not  entirely  exempt.     In  iihort,  she  has 

long  afl'cctetl  the  character  of  a  fine  lady ;  and,  as  1  can  very  well 
ail'ord  to  iudulge  her  in  her  fancies,  and  flo  not  myself  altogether 
dislike  to  see  them,  why  I  let  her  have  her  way." 

Having  been  rather  nuzzled  by  the  lady's  character,  I  was  not 
sorry  to  be  enlightene(l  thus  far  respecting  it.  I  had  myself  ob- 
served with  surprise  how  well  she  bore  the  perpetual  round  of  dia- 
8i[)ation  into  which  they  plunged  inunediately  after  their  arrival ; 
and  that  she,  though  ever  complaining  of  fatigue  and  lowness,  still 
preserved  all  the  freshness  of  health,  while  her  blooming  girls  and 
sturdy  bciys  were  gradually  becoming  paler,  and  exhibiting,  even 
thus  early,  the  ill-consequences  of  exhausted  strength  and  spirits. 

A  still  greater  change  was  soon  observable  in  the  family.  The 
dresses  of  the  whole  party  were  thrown  aside,  and  replaced  by  those 
of  the  last  Parisian  fashions.  Everything  English  was  gradually 
laid  by.  Port  wine,  of  which  they  all  at  first  partook,  was  no  longer 
circulated  round  the  table,  and  never  pa.4t  beyond  the  range  uf  Sir 
John  and  myself.  The  presentable  slices  from  the  enonnoua 
Cheshire  cheese  no  longer  appeared,  but  were  replaced  by  Gruyi'rc, 
Neufchatcl,  and  Parmesjm.  Nothing  Knglish,  or  bearing  an  English 
name,  was  permitted  to  appear  on  table.  The  lady  had  complained 
to  me  that  she  was  conscious  her  c<lucation  had  been  strangely  neg- 
lected by  her  parents,  since  she  had  never  learned  French,  beyond 
the  wretched  smattering  which  she  had  acquired  at  school,  and 
which  was  totally  forgotten  within  six  months  after  she  left  it.  This 
deficiency  she  said  she  had  never  felt  until  the  growth  of  her  chil- 
dren ha<l  made  her  so  thoroughly  ashamed  of  her  own  ignorance, 
thnt  she  had  sat  down  in  earnest  to  repair  it ;  and  that  she  had  urged 
their  present  removal  to  Paris  from  a  desire  to  improve  herself,  at 
the  same  time  that  her  children  wouhl  acquire  their  finishing  know- 
ledge of  the  language  at  the  fountain-head.  All  this  I  thought  very 
rational,  providetl  it  were  kept  within  proper  bounds  ;  but,  alas  !  the 
pro(H*r  bounds  which  ought  to  confine  discretion  arc  seldom  noticed 
until  they  are  overstepped. 


I 


JOHN    BULL  ABROAD. 


125 


fw  Enfflish  language  Boon  followed  the  BngliRh  dishes,  wine,  and 
che«fte.  The  names  of  the  fdmily  were  next  Galliciaetl.  The  amiublc 
Mwy  wu  newly  christened,  without  priest  or  water,  jind  named 
Marhm,  the  pretty  Susan  was  changed  into  Susefle,  and  the  playful 
Kate  into  Cateau.  John,  a  6ne  robust  lad,  who  promised  to  emulate 
the  dimennons  of  his  father,  was  henceforth  to  acknowledge  no  other 
name  than  Jtan  or  Jeannot  ;  and  poor  little  James  was  many  days 
bcfbre  he  would  answer  to  that  of  Jacques,  or  JacquH.  The  gover- 
ncMt  MUa  Turner,  a  sensible  and  modest  youn^  woman,  remon- 
ttnted  vehemently  iif^ainst  being  called  Ma'mseUe  Toitrrirttr,  and  did 
not  give  up  the  point  until  Lady  Sonkin  listle^^aly  observed, 

"Well,  chihi,  if  your  objection  is  really  invincible,  1  suppose  we 
mu«t  yield  the  point;  in  which  case  we  will  call  you,  should  you 
nrvfer  it,  Mfidfmoixrlie  Pirouette  !" 

80  Tfitrucur  she  became, — no  longer  the  young  ladies'  g-ovemess, 
bat  their  iro«t'frnrtn/c,  and  addres5e<l  always,  and  usually  s])oken  of 
by  the  children,  as  win  bonne.  Poor  Mr.  Taylor  submitted  to  become 
Mtmneur  TolUcur,  tliough  he  laughingly  protested  he  was  no  lailur, 
and  wtts  thenceforward  always  named  u-  pri-cepteur,  Jenny,  the 
laidy't  maid,  was  now  Ma'maeUt:  Jcaunrtun  ;  Robert,  the  coMchman, 
HeAitkun  ;  and  old  Joseph,  the  half  butler  and  half  footman,  Juwn. 
Th«  Utter,  it  must  be  confessed,  grumbled  with  true  English  sturdi- 
aum  Mgainst  what  he  called  such  a  tl^l  outlandish  nickname ;  but, 
u  thtii  grumbling  was  confined  to  bis  fellow-servants,  he  only  got 
laughed  at  for  his  pains,  iinlil  he  offered  to  fight  Rohichon,  and 
Ihicaiaied  tu  knock  down  either  of  the  two  French  valets,  who  had 
bMB  engaged  shortly  after  the  arrival  of  the  family,  if  they  ever  pre- 
macd  to  call  him  by  any  other  name  than  thnt  by  which  he  had 
b«tn  lawfully  and  religiously  baptii<ed.  The^endditioIlSto  the  family 
wcr«  MestieutM  B^mtit  (unfortunately  pronounced  generally  by  the 
fiHoUy  BenHt  which  jpive  visible  offence)  and  Gautier,  (somehow 
MMMtandy  coorerted,  in  the  hurry  of  8[>eech,  to  Gaucher,  which  pro- 
ii«c«d  nurny  signiliciknt  shrugs,  and  some  half-uttered  ejaculations  of 
"JHoa  XMcH  /  "  and  "  Granii  Dteu  !  "  vfilU  the  kitchen  addition  of 
^ih^ilM  toni  bfteji  U*  Anglaix!  ")  There  was,  indeed,  one  individual 
■if  the  family,  and  that  a  prime  favourite  of  them  all,  that  could  not 
be  induced  by  threats  or  persuasions  tu  acknowledge  or  answer  to 
hi*  Dew  appeUative.  This  person  was  Spot,  the  Danish  dog,  who 
eitber  «lid  not  hear,  or  else  did  not  understaml,  his  new  title  of  Tncbe, 
At  length,  after  every  other  attempt  had  failed,  it  was  suggested  by 
aat  of  the  party  to  give  merely  a  French  pronunciotion  to  his  own 
■atural  Engli^U  natne^  which  it  was  concluded  would  surely  be  un- 
lUrstiiiid  A  new  order  was  therefore  issued  that  the  dog  should  be 
frotn  that  time  accustomed  by  all  the  family  to  answer  to  the  name 
(^  Spli.  The  dog  was  as  deal'^  or  as  obstinate  as  ever  ;  and  one  day, 
when  one  of  the  young  ladies.  AFa'mselle  Suiette,  who  had  s  slight 
B«p,  hul  called  to  nim  in  vain  from  the  curriiige  window  at  least  a 
Mwn  dmes  in  a  breath  by  that  illegitimate  appellation,  it  suddenly 
etfCBfrecl  to  her  elder  sitter  that  the  rapid  repetition  assumed  the 
•ound  uf  another  word,  which,  though  belonging  to  a  celebrated 
ri*^eT  in  Italy,  is  not  generally  called  for  out  of  a  carriage  window 
by  a  Toung  lady  in  Paris.  1  need  luirdly  add,  that  the  sash  was  in- 
■ttntjy  drawn  up,  the  young  and  charming  Susette  covrre<l  witli 


lOHN    BULL    ABROAD. 


1 8poi  (or  Spa,  or  Po)  left  to  rejoin  the  carnage,  or  fol- 
low Utovtt  hn»ne. 

One  day.  ibartljr  after  this  occurrence^  I  w&s  called  inlu  consult 
IMO  bv  tae  mutrcM  of  the  hoose.  who  Infornied  me  thM  she  ha 
laog  MtartaiBcd  an  cxeeeifing  averidon  to  the  ninne  which  had  beep 
BJVCD  to  ha  by  Jher  hmlwnri  She  ttaied  that,  upon  diligent 
qairj,  ilw  had  aaccHaund  that  Sir  J(>hn'»  family  was  one  of  jijreat 
■Dti^^y;  tkttt,  ddwB^  the  geoadogical  tree  hnd  not  been  handed 
dova  la  h«  «a  a  yoitnger  branch  of  the  stock,  there  was  no  doubt 
than  ih*  onnMl  same  tiad  been  Soaking,  or  Kingson,  and  that  the 
drwmmg  «■  tbe  final  g  had  inevely  occurred  through  negligence  or 
■KBdeM;  that  tbc  name  vaa,  at  all  events,  unpleasant  to  the  ear ; 
And  tKat  dM  ifaould  ncrer  die  in  peace  if  she  lef\  her  family  behind 
tkcr  wiib  aa  diinrrrrablc  and  mrmtaning  a  patronvoiic  as  Sonkin. 
To  hare  ibt  tamuy  derived  fran  rojraUy.  she  said,  alihouch  ille^iti- 
aaCaljT.  vac  anaaraung;  bvt  the  loss  of  the  Anal  e  had  abridged 
Uw  •van  of  that  ponaulatioo,  and  giren  an  unbearable  vulgarity  to 
ihv  ivaHBaMg  aaaML  Sb*  ~nhrd  acriouBlr  to  conaull  mc  as  to  tha^^ 
nmna  M  b*  adonnd  so  prociire  the  royal  authority  for  taking  JI^H 
MMM  which  ah«  wfinlBeij  gnUutud,  to  which  she  was  fully  asaureit^^ 
the  Aaaily  of  hcc  hwibwH  wm  cndded,  —  *'  that  name,"  she  added, 

Huv  1  ahnald  have  «Mn*ged  id  keep  mj  countenance  anothe 
'''kuniilcw  or  Id  oAr  am-  advice  on  thia  dieUcate  aubjcct,  I  know  not«; 
[hatfth  voaderfblKuef  vhenaft^preciae  tnomexit  Sir  John  uifld< 
"is  r"-trTl**'  .iiii.**— #.^  ft»^  *^*J^f^  ^^  imM*  wordx,  cxclHinicd— 

Wbatt  on  IM  aMmal  aol^Mi*    Mr.  N .  I  am  bound  to 

Ibr  tW  w^BOB  of  my  good  wife,  who  think*^  there  it 

I  valor  iok  n  noBfr  ^aa  m  Aai  atarUw  coounodity  called  wenlth, 

1  can  piatciUBr  one  at  any-  tine;  in  this  or  any  other  country.    I 

^indolgodharocevery  pent  hot  this;  and  on  thi^  »lte  knows 

I  ianoovablcv    SoiUun  was  the  name  of  my  Auher,  and  hU  Dither 

I  bias ;  and  Seadin  ahali  deaoend  to  nv  children,  aa  the  name, 

rho  ochircTdi  nac  only  Us  weoh&.  but  kU  rank,  by  the 


^elH 

kd^H 

m 


«  oun  wl 


txtdm  of  ft  pkHtt 


IP 


_  aawated  by  the  integrity  of  hi 
of  the  tnde  Id  which  bis  destiny  had  de 

■M  tha  ««d  "*  md^*  I^dj  Sonkin  threw  heradf  back,  or  rather 
dkww.  «k  dha  aolh.  FW  mm*  ■nManti  I  thoii|^  she  was  fainting ; 
««  Iho  oMU*ry»  ahat  woa  on^  iiiWitUng  vigoor  for  an  animHted 

,»rjdy- 

I     "Trmkl  tfwdt  1  ~ ataat^  op. ^e cxdauncd.     •^  My  poor  nerve* 

«itt  never  rewver  iho  aback!     ]  Waal »  5«k«  Ur.  N ,  whether 

that  nughty  poow  whiGn  Bnka  the  fiwr  quarters  of  the 


I 


U^*e  tof:Tth<«-i*ia*t»  G»  dignM  by  tho  latm  lr«dle^  "  ^H 

No«,  |M^')thae»  Lai^y  ^wthiiW*  wpJwd tha  knigbv  "  be  cahD,and^H 


"  Watt,  dMTk*  ih*  Mlkly  Uflwwj.  **  ywv  know  I  nerer  argue  with 
Jron. — *•  how  rmaU  If     Boi  «hai  o  gtmleasaB  has  accumulated 
;c  vm  bttadrvd  ibaniand  ysonils  1^  hia  voat  commercial  deal- 


JOHN    BULL    ABROAD. 


"  t  always  thought/'  she  in  turn  interrupted,  with  apparent  lan- 
guoT,  but  real  eiienjy,  "  that,  after  all,  commerce  and  lr«de  were 
4jfnuHumuui  terms.     I  appeal  to  Sir.  N ." 

"Why.  really.  Lady  Sonkin,"  I  replied,  "you  might  puzzle  a 
better  philulogUt  than  myitell'  by  fuch  a  question  ;  but,  without  cn- 
tenng  into  definitions,  I  certainly  always  imagined  that  trade 
oa  an  exteninve  scale  was  considered  to  be  commerce,  and  that 
ooinmerce  on  a  limited  scale  was  generally  considered  to  be  trade. 
Amj  fur  instance,  we  call  those  currents  ol'  air  trade  winds,  such  as 
the  monsoon  in  the  Indian  ocean,  which  waft  in  one  direct  course 
the  vesnel  iVeighted  with  the  produce  of  one  country  to  the  shores  of 
■nottiefj  and  thence  in  due  season  back  asain  with  the  exchange 
procured  for  the  commodities  exported ;  ana  this  I  presume  to  be  an 
illufttration  of  what  is  called  commerce.  When  Sir  John  spoke  of 
trade,  he  did  not,  I  imagine,  allude  to  the  petty  traiisiictidiis  of  a 
chandler's  shop,  but  to  that  commanding  influence  which  traffic  be- 
twei^^  remote  nations  has  given  especially  to  the  fortunate  islands 
of  which  we  are  native*.** 

"  A  chandler's  shop  !  "  esclaimed  the  lady,  with  a  sort  of  hysterical 
laogh — *'  a  chaudUr'g  thvp  !  We  never  kept  a  ciiandl£h'&  sijup,  I 
aaiitre  you  !     Did  we,  my  dear?  " 

**  Worroan  I  "  cried  the  husband,  with  a  red  face,  and  most  impress- 
ively angry  tone,  *'  you  are  a  fool !     Do  hold  your  tongue !  " 

**  That,  my  love,"  ihe  replied,  "  I  shall  Ao,  of  course,  when  you 

dture  me;  but  before  I  do  .so,  I  rriU  say,  that  Mr  N 's  notion  of 

a  ekamdier's  thop  is  almost  an  affront  to  a  man  whose  extensive  spe- 
c^nlalian  in  hops,  and  remarkably  fine  taste  in  Cheshire  cheese,  fiaa 
procured  htm  so  fine  a  fortune,  and  —  and  —  ab  me  !  —  1  faint  with 
rxhaiiJlion!  Fray,  ring  the  bell,  and  order  Jeanneton  to  attend 
im!" 

Here  she  relapsed  on  the  sofa,  and  having  rung  the  bell,  we  imme- 
dntrly  retired. 

Th»  honeit  knight  took  me  into  another  apartment,  and  conti- 
Dtied, — 

"  Voia  now  know,"  said  he,  "  what  I  have  made  no  mystery  of, 
ami  bad  no  wigh  to  conceal,  that  my  wealth  has  been  actjuircd  in 
trade,  which,  though  carried  on  upon  a  large  scale,  [  have  never 
dupufied  by  the  name  of  commerce,  tht>ugh  intrinsically  it  might  be 
cmed  to.  Lady  Sonkin  is  a  little  fanciful  on  these  matters ;  but  we 
all  have  our  weaknesses.  I  do  not  quarrel  with  hers,  because  tliey 
•riae  from  a  laudable  pride  in  her  bu»b.ind,  and  :ls  natural  an  ambi- 
Ifan  ibr  Iter  children.  In  plain  fact,  though  we  never  actually  kept 
A  ahop,  I  have  been  ujion  n  targe  scale  a  factor  and  Hpeculatt)r  in 
lippt, — in  the  same  way  a  large  farmer,  and  wholesale  dealer  in  the 
Marling  English  commodity  of  Cheshire  cheeses.     I  have  made  a  fine 

fortune,  Mr.  N ;  what  is  more,  1  have  made  it  honestly  ;  and, 

Ihoag^  I  am  nut  insensible  to  the  dignity  which  it  has  pleased  my 
pacioas  Sovereign  to  confer  upon  me,  1  am  neither  vain  of  my  title 
er  sporUecl  by  my  wealth.  One  thing  only  1  would  conceal,  and 
woukI  iKit  admit,  had  you  not  witnessed  it,  the  harmless  weakness 

Wmy  )tttle  wife.     Stie  is  an  excellent  woman,  Mr.  X ;  an  cx- 

edlrot  wife,  an<l  an  admirable  mother ;  and,  though  only  the 
dBSgbtttr  of  a  half-pay  captain  in  the  army,  she  has  proved  herself 


128 


JOHN    BULL   ABROAD. 


entitled  to  every  indulgence  I  can  so  Amply  afTord  her.  But  I  will 
not  on  th\A  single  point  of  name,  and  the  iissumption  of  family  pride 
which  does  not  belong  to  me,  indulge  a  fully  whicb^  as  it  becomes 
ridiculotiH,  may  cease  to  be  hanmlc&s." 

I  honestly  confesG  that  my  own  reason  responded  to  every  word 
roy  bulky  friend  uttered  ;  but  not  choosing  to  take  any  p.irt  pro  or 
cvn.  I  wa£  glad  to  recollect  that  the  hour  wa)<  luckily  arrived  when  I 
could  take  my  leave  without  offence,  and  I  rose,  though  with  warmer 
feelings  than  usual  towards  my  new  acquaintance,  yet  not  with- 
out Kome  sort  of  irritated  emotions  towards  ray  London  friend,  who 
bad  6xed  upon  me  this  *<  unsorted  set,"  and  exclaiming  to  myself, 
"  So,  my  new  associate,  after  all,  is  a  cheesemonger  !  " 

As  I  returtietl  home,  however,  I  recalled  many  admirable  anec- 
dotes of  splendid  institutions  founded  by,  and  munificent  gifts  re- 
corded oi",  citizens  oi*  London  who  were  mercliants  in  a  general 
sense,  ami  equally,  perhaps,  in  hops  and  cheese  ;  and  before  I  step- 
ped into  bed,  I  found  an  honeRt  blush  upon  my  cheek  for  having, 
even  for  a  moment,  felt  degraded  by  my  temporary  connection  with 
one  of  these  must  useful  and  most  iuBuential  membrrs  of  tiocicty.  I 
■ay  I  blushed  ;  and  the  man  or  the  woman  who  blushes  when  alotif, 
may  rest  satisfied  that  they  possess  something  within  which  is  allied 
to  honour,  and  not  de^ititute  of  virtue. 

It  is  not  my  intention  at  present  to  follow  the  fortunes  of  this 
family  during  their  residence  abroad  ;  but  they  had  not  resided  in 
Paris  more  than  five  months  before  the  listless  vigour  and  energetic 
languor  of  Lady  Sonkin  had  made  her  and  her  children,  especially 
her  daughters,  so  conspicuously  remarkable,  that  they  were  intro- 
duced ufwn  the  stage  in  a  pu^uani  little  vaudcvitlt,  entitled^  "  Lea 
Angloiscs  pour  rire." 

The  good-humoured  satire,  and  inimitable  acting  of  Pcrlet  in  this 
piece,  drew  crowds  nightly  to  the  theatre,  and  it  waa  noticed  that 
the  English  rej^idents  enjoyed  the  burlesque  with  even  greater  s«st 
than  the  Parisians  themselves. 

One  English  family  alone  was  sought  for  there  in  vain; — in  fact, 
that  one  English  family  had  been  present  on  the  first  night  the  piece 
was  jwrfornied,  and  had  eiyoyed  it  like  everybody  else,  until  they 
found  their  logc  the  centre  of  attraction  to  all  eyes,  and  at  last,  as  the 
piece  concluded,  that  the  inmates  were  the  marked  objects  of  the 
whole  parterre,  who  with  a  burst  of  thundering  applause  simulta- 
neously shouted,  "  Vivent  lea  Angloisea!  vivent  les  Angloiwsl" 
&c. 

"While  all  Paris,  tlierefore,  was  ringing  the  fame  of  "  Les  Angloises 
pour  rire,"  the  "one  family"  were  busily  employed  chin  eu^  in 
purchasing  incog,  in  packing,  iind  preparing  fur  their  precipitate 
departure;  and  ten  days  aller  the  first  enacting  of  the  memorable 
vaudeville,  1  acconipaided  tlie  party  as  far  as  Lyons,  where  I  parte<I, 
not  without  feelings  of  regret,  from  my  frieiid  Sir  John  and  hia 
really  agreeable  family,  and  mw  them  start  once  more  on  their  road 
to  Italy. 

N ,      ' 


IS9 


MORAL  ECONOMY  OF  LARGE  TOWNS. 

BY  DK.    W.   C.   TAY2.0R. 


LIVERPOOL. 

S/artinua  8cxiblbrl:s,  in  his  Es-sny  on  lli«  Art  of  Sinking  in 
Pvevrj,  i]uoc«s,  as  un  instance  ot'  excessive  absurdity,  the  modest 
viih  of  an  amorous  pair,— 

"  Ye  Cods  1  annihilate  but  tine  and  spacer 
And  roake  two  lovers  happy  !  " 

it  is  possible  that  the  poet's  eye  "  in  fine  frenzy  rolling,"  may  have 
eaii|;ht  an  anticipatory  ghmpse  of  railroads,  steam,  and  locomotivt-s  ; 
lu«  train  of  thought  may  have  suggested  a  train  of  carriages ;  and 
tti»  lovers  may  have  deemed  it  wise  to  profit  by  hot  water  liefore 
mmrimge,  as  they  were  likely  to  be  kept  in  it  oftcrm'ards.  To  be 
«m^  railing  does  not  often  form  a  part  of  courtship^  neither  have 
stjniiolagista  discovered  any  cnnnrotinn  between  steam  and  esteem  ; 
bat  MCfa  trifles  aa  these  should  not  stand  in  the  way  of  a  theory  ; 
•o  let  OS  suppose  that  the  lovers  personified  Liverpool  and  iVIanches- 
tcr,  omI  we  shall  have  the  siitistaction  to  find  that  the  lovers  were 
tVMmRble,  and  that  their  wishes  have  been  gratified.  In  rather  lesi 
tiBM  thsD  it  takes  a  Londoner  to  walk  from  his  suburban  residence 
tchU  oounting-house,  the  visiter  of  Manchester  may  be  transported 
Is  Liverpool,  and  depositetl  in  the  very  heart  of  the  town.  Though 
tkiawoculer  haa  existed  several  years^  it  in  still  an  object  of  curiosity 
lotbe  strangers  who  are  constantly  arriving  in  this  great  seajKirt ; 
cod  it  ii  somrtimes  amusing  to  hear  the  comments  made  on  the 
Mchincry  by  the  crowd  surrounding  the  gates  in  Lime  Street, 

**  By  Japer*  !  "  said  an  Irish  squire,  fresh  from  Connaught,  a(\er 
a  ioag  ciuminatian  of  the  locomotive,  "  I  should  not  be  astonished 
tm  tt^  myself  some  fine  morning  out  hunting  on  my  tay-kettle  !  " 

**  Mod  Dicu  I  "  exclaimed   a   Frenchman,   "  voil'a   un   cheval   a 

Americans  guessed  and  calculated ;  Portuguese  swore  and  crossed 
AaBMlvea  alternately  ;  a  »tjLteIy  Osmanlee  was  so  far  startled  from 
hif  propriety  as  to  utter  "  Allah  Acbar  !  "  and  a  shivering  Hindoo 
BMdr  pixfjiih  before  the  engine,  as  if  it  hji<l  been  an  incarnation  of 
Brarnah  or  Vislmoo.  Here  wtt.s  an  important  fact  in  the  niornl  eco^ 
BOray  of  Liverpool  brought  before  llie  visiter  at  the  very  moment 
«r  his  arrival ;  namely,  that  there  is  a  large  Huetuating  population, 
mnpc—rl  of  persons  from  almost  every  quarter  of  the  gltibe,  here 
l»^y  ancl  gone  ti>-morrow.  It  follows  that  Liverpool  must  possesa 
acreatar  number  of  Indgiiig-houftes  tlian  the  minnifacturing  town 
w«  had  qutttedi  and  tliat  much  of  the  morality  of  the  town  must  d^ 
pmd  on  the  nature  of  the  accommodations  provided  for  this  ever- 
cJtet^ng  population.  If  in  Manchester  the  rapid  increase  of  a  set- 
tled and  resident  populnlion  had  scj  far  outstripped  tiie  means  of  ac- 
CMnmoilaUoD  aa  to  bi*conic  the  pregnant  source  of  great  moral  evil, 
it  was  manilWslly  probublc  that  Liver|»x>l,  which  hail  to  provide  for 


130 


MORAL    ECONOMY   OF   LARGE    TOWNS. 


an  immense  increase  both  in  its  fixed,  and  in  its  fluctuating  popuU- 
tion,  must  exhibit  still  more  lamentable  deficiencies. 

This  anticipation  was  for  surpassed  by  the  reality  ;  the  lodj^ing- 
room,  crowded  with  tliree  or  four  families,  was  an  abomination; 
but  the  lodging-cellar,  the  under-ground  cave,  in  which  drainage, 
light,  and  ventilation,  were  utterly  unattainable — where  every  drop 
of  moisture  that  sunk  into  the  earthen  Huur  fermented  into  canXzf^an 
— and  where  every  exlialation  from  animate  to  inanimate  bodies  rojh^ 
in  volumes  of  pe:<tilential  mist  round  the  apology  fur  a  ceiling,  with- 
out being  able  to  find  a  vent,— presented  Hnacctimulatiun  of  horrors, 
such  as  no  one,  without  personal  examination,  could  believe  to  exist 
in  a  civilised  community.  It  haa  oflen  been  said  that  "  aailoTft  will 
sleep  anywhere  ;"  but  it  was  scarcely  known  that  they  would  make 
their  bed  in  a  cesspool.  Some  of  them  were  interrogated  on  the 
subject ;  and  it  was  found  to  be  one  on  which  they  felt  bitterly. 
Several  declared  that  they  had  vi^ted  in  their  voyagett  every  re^on 
of  the  earth,  and  that  ''  Jack  aahorc "  wju  nowhere  so  miserably 
lodged  as  in  Liverpool. 

Though  Manchester  and  Liverpool  are  so  close  to  each  other,  and 
BO  intimately  connected  ;  yet  the  difference  between  the  two  towns  i» 
very  striking,  and  the  contrast  is,  probably,  the  cause  of  the  jea- 
lousy which  gub&ists  between  their  inhabitants.  The  moiit  promi- 
nent didtinctian  is,  that  the  population  of  Liverpool  is  more  diversi- 
fied, and  more  obviously  divisible  into  classes,  tlian  that  of  Blanches- 
ter ;  there  is  more  splendour  among  its  ricli,  and  more  squalor 
among  its  poor.  The  connections  between  the  employer  and  tJie 
employed  in  Liverpool  ore  not  so  intimate  or  so  permanent  as  id  a 
niunufacturing  district ;  the  seaport  requires  a  much  greater  propor- 
tion of  rude  lid)our  and  uninfitructed  industry  ;  there  is  less  demand 
for  trained  skill,  the  acquisition  of  which  is  in  itst'lf  a  species  of 
moral  culture,  and  there  is  a  greater  need  for  mere  brute  strength, 
—the  Ciipacity  of  raising  weights,  and  carrying  burthens.  In  Liver- 
pool, also,  there  is  a  far  greater  proportion  of  casual  to  settled  em- 
ployment than  in  Manchester,  aa  must  necessarily  be  the  case  when 
the  demand  for  a  very  large  amount  of  labour  depends  upon  tlie 
vind  and  tide.  The  manufacturer  must  feel  some  symjuthy  with 
the  operative  whom  he  sees  every  day  in  hid  mill ;  but  the  same  op- 
portunity is  not  afforded  to  the  ship-agent,  who  hires  day-lsbourvn 
to  load  a  vessel,  or  to  discharge  a  cargo. 

It  is  not  meant  that  the  merchants  of  Liverpool  have  no  regard 
for  the  physical  and  moral  welfare  of  the  labourers  they  employ  ; 
the  very  contrary  is  the  fact ;  no  place  on  the  globe  posseMes  a 
greater  number,  in  proportion  to  the  population,  of  the  energetically 
benevolent  than  the  town  of  Liverpool.  Nowhere  are  schemes  of 
philanthropy  more  Benloudly  encouraged,  or  more  ardently  sup- 
portctl ;  but,  from  the  very  nature  of  the  relations  which  exist  be* 
tween  the  rich  and  the  {HHir,  the  former  arc  irresistibly  compelled 
to  look  on  the  latter  in  the  mass,  and  not  to  take  each  case  in- 
rdividuoliy.  The  merchant  does  not,  and  cannot  know  every  la- 
'  bourcr  whom  he  emjdoys  ;  pcr.<onal  eommunicbtion  between  theza 
)6  nearly  impossible ;  he  is  anxious  to  do  good,  and  to  prevent  evil  ; 
but  he  is  driven  to  provide  for  claftses  of  cases,  instead  of  sinale 
coses;  hence  his  bounty  assumes  to  the  recipient  somewluit  of  the 
form  of  cold  calculation,  and  be  is  accused  of  forgetting  the  physio- 


I 

4 


LlVERroOL. 


1st 


logical  fact,  that  the  poor  have  hcnrt$  as  well  ns  ttornachs.  When 
we  assert  tliat  the  diatinction  between  the  employers  and  the  etn- 
plo^-efl  is  Tar  more  brtud  and  rjf^d  in  Liverpuol  than  in  JNIanchester, 
we  do  not  mean  to  say  that  the  merchant  is  more  proud  than  the 
nanufacturer,  or  the  labourer  more  subservient  than  the  operative; 
bat  we  moan  that  the  circumstances  of  po<4ition  render  the  distance 
Iretwfm  the  factor  and  the  labourer  wider  and  more  obvious  tlian  it 
if  between  the  manufacturer  and  the  operative. 

The  demand  for  untrained  labour,  and  what  may  be  called  un- 
skilful industry,  renders  the  immij^ralion  into  Liverpool  much 
.  tower,  both  morally  and  intellectually,  than  that  into  Alanchestrr. 
[Ko  one  can  visit  the  street*^  in  the  vicinity  of  ttie  docks  without 
'feclin|if  that  be  has  seen  something  very  like  savage  life  in  clu«e  con- 
tact with  dvilisation.  The  Welsh  and  the  Irish  seem  to  supply  the 
greater  put  of  the  labourers^  and,  it  must  be  added,  to  send  some 
of  tibe  wonet  specimens  of  their  respective  populations.  But  it 
mm/t  be  borne  m  mind,  that  the  nature  of  the  demand  regulates  the 
•apply  ;  brute  farce,  and  capacity  of  endurance,  are  tlie  only  requi- 
sites regarded  by  an  employer  ;  and,  therefore,  he  receives  men 
TMn}y  possessing  any  other  qualifications.  If  the  conditions  of  em- 
ployment were  fixed  by  a  hig;lier  standard,  Wales  and  Ireland  would 
■■1^/  the  better  clas«  just  as  they  now  do  the  inferior.  The  dis- 
tinctioa  of  classes  in  Liverpool  is,  therefore,  not  only  the  result  of 
circuuMtances,  but  some  of  thtsc  circumstances,  and  particularly  the 
nature  of  the  demand  for  labour,  collect  in  Liverpool  a  Pariah  caste, 
vboKc  inferiority  is  obvious  an<l  undeniable. 

The  great  object  of  the  writer  of  these  papers  is  to  show  that 
murh,  if  not  most,  of  the  vice  and  misery  usually  attributed  either 
lotfac  pravity  of  human  nature,  to  defects  in  our  political  institu- 
tion*.  or  to  errors  in  our  social  regulations,  may  l>c  traced  to  cir- 
cumatances  in  the  physical  condition  of  the  working-classes,  of 
which  many  can  be  removed,  most  modified,  and  all  alleviated. 
Prrrcntivc  legislation  is  both  ciiea))er  and  more  effective  than  reme- 
'  dial  legislation ;  but  to  render  it  available  we  must  carefully  ex- 
~M  where  the  checks  are  to  be  placed-  If  sometimes  in  the  dis- 
cwalofi  a  lighter  tone  has  been  assumed  than  graver  moralists  deem 
^prupriate,  tliey  should  not  too  hastily  believe  that  a  smile  at  ab- 
RirdJ^  betrays  any  want  of  sympathy  for  the  suffering,  or  pity  for 
the  errors,  of  humanity.  These  few  words  of  explanation  may  be  par- 
dooed ;  and  now  let  us  resume  the  consideration  of  the  circum- 
Mucee  which  most  seriously  affect  the  moral  condition  of  Liverpool. 
It  would  be  a  serious  error  to  suppose  that  the  evils  and  horrors 
«f  cellarage  aBect  only,  or  even  chiefly,  the  floating  population  of 
■  Lirerpool ;  they  preAS  still  more  forcibly  on  the  permanent  part  of 
I  it,  that  supplies  Uie  labour  of  the  docks.  These  labourers  are  accu- 
sed in  unsuspected  niasf>cs  in  the  streets  near  the  docks  ;  and  it 
mHv  (•  a  perplexing  problem  to  discover  how  so  many  persons  as 
m  MOod  to  reside  in  t^ne  nf  the  cellars,  ran  find  space  to  lie  down. 
ll  woalcl  far  transcend  tlic  power  of  words  to  describe  tlie  horrors 
of  theM'dens;  and  It  can  scarcely  be  necessary  to  dwell  upon  the 
Csct  that  raalignant  disease  is  per}*etually  generated  in  them  ;  but 
tfcfir  moral  retiiiUs  have  not  hitherto  received  much  attention  ;  and 
la  thrse  we  shall  confine  ourselves  for  the  present. 
We  have  said  that  tlie  crowded  sUte  of  the  lodging-roumi  in 


IH2 


MORAL    ECONOMY   OF   LARGE   TOWNS. 


Manchester  is  hif;hly  prejuriicta]  to  female  delicacy  and  modeaty- 
the  jrreal  safeguards  of  virtue.  But  this  evil  is  not  so  immefliately 
felt  where  the  fellow- lot! gers  have  been  long  known  to  each  other, 
and  have  formetl  friendly  intimacies  ;  a  feeling  of  respect,  even  un- 
der the  most  unfavourable  clrcuiiistances,  is  engendered  by  an  inti- 
macy between  two  families.  The  cellars  of  Liverpool,  however, 
want  even  this  miserable  compensation ;  strangers  are  received  u 
lodgers  in  most  of  tlieiu;  stranger?,  loo,  fresh  from  the  sea,  with 
passions  fermenting  from  the  long  absence  of  gratification,  snd  with 
the  recklessness  of  consequences  which  the  prospect  of  immediate 
separation  inspires.  The  crowd  is  brought  lopcther  under  the  very 
circumstances  best  suited  to  render  the  assemblage  dangerous  ;  and, 
to  those  who  have  seen  the  circumstances^ the  physical  circum- 
stances, to  which  poor  girls  round  the  docks  are  exposed,  tlie  wondor 
is  not  that  many  have  fallen,  but  that  any  have  escaped. 

Juvenile  employment  is  very  scarce  in  Liverpool ;  with  all 
evils  of  the  factory  system,  it  certainly  is  productive  of  one  gre 
good,  it  gives  the  young  something  to  do.  The  very  worst-mana 
mill  that  ever  disgraced  a  country  is  still  a  better  place  for  the ' 
youth  of  both  sexes  than  the  streets.  It  i^  true  that  schooU  in  some 
degree  remedy  this  deficiency  ;  and  it  is  but  justice  to  say  that  the 
schools  for  the  lower  classes  in  Liverpool,  without  any  reference  to 
distinction  of  party,  are  admirably  managed;  yet,  between  the  «ge« 
of  fourteen  and  twenty  it  is  rare  to  find  youth  at  school,  and  this  is 
precisely  the  period  when  the  first  devt4openienl  of  nascent  passions 
renders  restraint  most  neccKsary.  Caaual  employment  is  particularly 
dangerous  to  persons  of  this  class;  it  gives  them  notions  of  inde- 
pendence ;  it  renders  them  impatient  of  parental  authority :  but  at 
the  same  time  it  leaves  them  in  the  midst  of  seduction  and  temp- 
tation, with  tlie  greater  portion  of  their  time  hanging  heavy  on  (heir 
hands.  Some  of  these  are  the  children  of  parents  wlio  have  no  sen- 
sibility to  the  evils  of  their  condition,  because  they  themselves  had 
no  ex]>erjence  of  a  better  condition  in  their  youth  ;  and  not  a  few 
of  them  are  initiated  in  the  ways  of  vice  by  fathers  and  mothers, 
whose  precepts,  and,  still  more,  whose  example,  might  corrupt 
children  thenioat  strongly  inclined  to  virtue  and  obedience.  Others, 
and  perhaps  the  greatest  number,  are  the  children  of  inefficient 
piirents,  who  do  not  control,  and  who  believe  that  they  are  not  able 
to  control,  the  waywardness  and  vagrant  propensities  of  their  chil- 
dren. To  all  remonstrances  against  letting  their  children  wander 
about  the  street,  they  answer,  ■'  we  have  no  home  to  keep  them  in." 
It  may  be  fairly  confessed  that  a  great  number  of  these  youths  find 
emplojTnent  as  errand-boys  in  shops  and  offices ;  but  they  form  only 
a  fragment  of  the  juvenile  pupulailun,  and  the  species  of  employment 
which  they  obtain,  instead  of  inclining  and  qualifying  them  f<»r  the 
steady  labours  of  an  apprenticeship,  has  the  most  <lirect  tendency  to 
lead  them  into  the  class  of  tdlerA  an<l  vagrants.  This  evil  is  not  felt 
BO  sensibly  in  the  manufacturing  districts  as  it  is  in  Liverpool,  be- 
cause there  ia  a  demand  for  juvenile  labour  in  the  factories  ;  were^ 
there  not  such  a  demand,  the  accumulation  of  such  dense  muses  ii3 
narrow  limits,  with  such  miserably  inadequate  means  of  accomraa 
dation,  would  nroiluce  an  amount  of  vice — and  particularly  of  jave 
nile  vice,  which  would  rentier  the  system  unendurable. 

The  i»ea  is  in  Liverpool  the  only  resource  fur  youths  ;  but  this  is 


LIVERPOOL. 


133 


•  oprn  lo  onp  «px.  and  to  ft  small  franrnent  even  of  that  sex.  It 
'il  vm  doubtful  whether  it  would  be  desirable  to  increase  the  num- 
ber of  boyti  eaiploye<l  in  the  merchant  service.  Taken  as  a  daai, 
they  arc  phynlciilty  worAc  off  than  the  children  in  the  factoricfi,  and 
they  are  infinitely  more  exposed  to  corrupting  influences.  Those 
who  hnve  been  educated  are  indeed  as  much  exposed  to  the  dangers 
MMOierated  a%  thoi>«  who  are  deMitute  of  instruction  ;  but  In  the  Li- 
verpool bcIkwIs  fur  the  poor,  it  deserves  to  be  particularly  marked, 
thai  more  attention  u  futid  to  the  training;  and  tlie  formation  of  habit 
than  to  the  cmnmiinicatton  of  mere  book  instruction.  Everybody 
Lnovs  that  education  i«  a  very  Rore  subject  in  Liveq)ool,  and  that 
the  Corporation  and  National  achoola  have  been  made  the  theme  of 
party  controversy,  which  boih  in  amount  and  degree  resembletl 
mber  the  fanatical  feuda  of  Cromwell's  age  than  a  civil  contention 
of  chr  nineteenth  century.  But  this  rivalry  has  not  been  an  unmixed 
rril:  tite  leaders  of  parties  soon  discovered  that  cries  and  watch- 
vorda  lost  tlieir  force  by  repetition  ;  and  tliat  tlie  schools  which  judd 
V(«t  attention  to  the  proper  business  and  purpose  of  education  would 
triumph  in  spite  of  oratory  and  misrepresentation  ;  they  therefore 
adiDurncd  tlieir  bpeeches  to  improve  their  uchuols  ;  and  now,  when- 
~  7  a  covnparison  ifi  instituted,  the  test  is  not  which  c^n  display  the 
theatrical  orators,  but  which  can  produce  the  better  scholars. 
ing,  however,  everything  that  can  be  said  for  the  inHuence  of 
training  aa  a  preventive  check  to  juvenile  delinquency,  it  is 
I  chat  its  influence  must  diminish  afterthe  child  leaves  school ; 
■t  if  the  youthti  between  fourteen  and  twenty-one  are  exposed 
r  corrupting  circunittance«>  already  noticed,  a  large  number  must 
»e  pauners  and  criminals,  and  the  very  education  they  have 
'^ccdircd  u  the  schools  may  minister  to  their  capacity  for  crime. 
Tberv  are  many  otlier  circumstances,  of  perilous  consequence  to 
locicty.  in  the  state  of  the  juvenile  portion  of  tlie  lower  ranks  in 
l«if«rpool/  on  wliich  it  would  be  of  importance  to  dwell,  if  there 
mr*  reuonablc  hopes  tliat  measures  for  their  ameliorati<ni  would  be 
islopCad.  One,  Imwever,  is  90  striking  to  a  casual  visiter,  and  so 
MBKraDf  unknown  to  the  residents,  that  it  deserves  a  little  notice. 
fiaaday  in  Li^erjiool  is  the  day  when  the  seductions  of  vice,  and  the 
cwmptin^  influences  of  unhappy  circumstances,  act  most  intensely 
<m  cbr  old  and  the  young.  A  day  of  rest  is  enjoined  ;  but  how  can 
fhwi  iinjiij  mil  who  have  no  place  for  reposed  Issuing  from  his 
pMiifcrous  cellar,  the  working  man  has  only  a  choice  between  the 
bImt  of  worship  and  the  alehouse;  He  ought  to  choose  the  former ; 
M  it  D«c«ls  not  to  lell  that  he  does  mrt,  and  that  there  are  not,  and 
nmot  br,  means  for  constraining  him.  The  tavern  affords  him 
Mciil  converse,  a  cumfortuble  place  in  which  he  can  sit  down,  and 
r  rrwling  of  »  newspaper.  Sunday  is  the  only  day  on  which  he 
I  tee  bis  friends,  and  the  alehouse  the  only  place  in  which  he  can 
ct  tbetn.  We  have  made  long  and  anxious  inquiries  on  the  sub- 
'  j#et,  and  we  feel  cotivincetl  that  far  the  greater  number  of  those  who 
frRnseot  Uie  alelumse  on  Sunday  are  drawn  thither,  not  by  the  love 
of  hoaor,  but  by  the  intiocent  and  laudable  desire  fur  social  commu- 
■MD.  Jdony  worthy  )M.-r»ons  arc  of  opinion  that  the  poor  ought  not 
fonad  iMwapaiiers,  especially  on  Sunday.  It  is  unnecessary'  to  in- 
mItv  wbvlber  this  npinion  is  well  or  ill  founded  ;  tiecause  tliey  will 
rad  the  new*  on  Sunday,  whether  we  approve  or  disapprove  of  the 


MORAL   ECONOMY   O?   LAHOE   TOWNS, 

practice.     The  only  question  for  sane  men  to  decide  is,  whether 
there  ie  a  possibility  of  separating  the  enjoyments  from  the  adjuncts 
"vvliich  render  it  vicious  and  depraving  ;  whether  a  cheap  temperan« 
assembly  and  news'  room  would  not  thin  the  ranks  of  the  aletiouse^^ 
and  whether,  by  affording  time  and  opportunity  for  calm  reflectioi^H 
it  may  not  become  a  vestibule  to  the  place  of  worship.  ^^ 

There  are  not  meani;  for  the  great  bulk  of  the  poor  to  spend  the 
Sunday  innocently  within  doors,  and  there  is  nearly  as  little  for  their 
taking  rest  in  the  open  air.  The  progress  of  bricks  and  mortar  and 
of  inclosiires  has  aadly  restricted  the  spaces  on  which  the  English 
peasantry  could  take  healthful  exra-cise.  Around  Liverpool  they  are 
sadly  restricted  both  in  number  and  space.  Respectable  people  keep 
away  from  these  crowded  spots.  The  influence  of  their  example  is 
lost,  and  in  its  place  is  substituted  the  influence  of  the  idle,  the  dis- 
solute, and  the  depraved.  Were  there  a  park  or  carden  open,  where 
the  flowers, — thone  silent  preachers  to  which  Christ  himself  referred 
hifl  disciples  as  eloquent  witnesses  of  the  bounty  of  Providence, — 
would  speak  lessons  of  loveliness  to  the  soul,  an  immediate  check 
would  be  given  to  gross  vice  and  foul  pollution.  We  loo  oden 
forget  the  hiimanixing  and  moral  effects  of  a  gsrdcn.  It  was  in  a 
garden  that  our  first  parents  were  placed  by  infinite  wisdom  ;  and» 
unlesH  WL*  deny  that  attribute  of  l>eity,  we  cannot  evade  the  conclu- 
sion that  such  a  locality  is  the  best  suited  to  inspire  reflections  on  the 
bounties  of  that  Providence,  whose  tender  mercies  are  over  all  his 
works.  "Consider  the  lilies  of  the 'field,  they  toil  not,  neither  do  they 
spin  ;  and  yet  I  say  unto  you  that  Solomon  in  all  his  glory  was  not 
arrayed  like  one  of  these."  But  there  are  those  who  say  to  the  poor, 
'You  shall  not  consider  the  lilies  of  the  field;  for  wc  are  wiser  than 
our  master,  and  deny  tlmt  they  inculcate  the  lesson  which  lie  has 
pointed  out."  I 

Were  we  even  to  grant  that  all  recreations  on  Sunday  ore  evil, 
which  we  are  far  from  conceding,  still  we  should  say  that  there  is 
only  a  choice  of  evils  in  the  case  of  a  dense  and  crowded  population. 
Body  and  soul  must  suflcr  equally,  if  the  poor  be  kept  confined  in      i 
those  dens  and  cellars,  compared  with  which  prisons  are  palaces,  and 
dungeons  drawing-rooms.     "Which  of  you   having  a  sheej)  fallen 
into  a  pit  on  the  Sabbath  day  will  not  lay  hold  on  it  and  lift  it  out?  " 
But  no  pit  into  which  an  animal  could  fall  is  so  noisome,  so  perni- 
cious, or  so  replete  with  peril,  as  the  dens  of  disease,  misery,  and      I 
vice  to  which  the  poorer  classes  are  physically  confined  on  the  day 
deugned  by  Providence  for  the  alleviation  of  their  condition.     AAer      i 
■  lapse  of  eighteen  hundred  yeiirs,  the  question  lias  to  be  repeated,      I 
*'  How  much  is  a  man  better  than  a  sheep?  " 

Juvenile  vagrancy  is  a  prolific  source  of  juvenile  delinquency;      j 
and  many   circumstances  lend    a  visiter  to  believe   that  habits  of 
vagrancy  are  very  early  formed  among  the  children  of  Liverpool.      I 
In  the  course  of  a  walk  of  about  two  hours,  in  the  upper  part  of  the 
town,  thirteen  children  were  found  wandering  about,  crying  that      , 
they  had  been  lost,  unable  to  tell  the  names  of  their  parenu,  or  the      | 
direction  of  their  renidences.     If  tliere  be  such  neglect  in  tender      ; 
veors,  we  may  sjifely  conclude  that  there  is  not  very  efficient  super- 
ualendence  in  mature  years.     The  difference  between  the  number  of 
bdy«  and  girls  to  be  seen  in  the  streets  of  Liverpool  and  those  seen 


135 


r  ftM  Itreets  of  ^Ianche8t«r  is  one  of  the  most  striking  circumstances 
rconmst  l>«iwe«?n  the  two  towns. 
Opportunities  for  crime  create  criminality;  and,  unrortunntely. 

Ilbe  necrssKry  exposure  of  valuable  property  in  the  crowded  docks  of 
Irirrrpool,  during  the  processes  of  shipping  and  un>(hipping,  pro- 
ittces  multitudinous  temptations,  which  prove  a  fatal  snare  to  the 
voung  arid  idle.  The  police  force  h  numerous  and  vigilant,  indeed 
R  \*  nowhere  better  organised  ;  but  if  each  constable  had  the  hnn- 
dred  eye*  of  Argus,  and  the  hundred  hands  of  Briareus,  he  would  I>c 
laffled  by  the  trained  dexterity  of  the  "  dock-wallopers."  Among 
iIm  educatiunal  establi«thments  of  Liverpool,  those  for  the  instruction 
of  young  thieves  ouj;ht  not  to  be  omitted.  They  appear  to  be  con- 
dortcd  on  the  mumtorial  principle,  combined  with  the  peripatetic 
■vittrni  devifted  by  Aristotle  ;  and  they  produce  more  promising  pupils 
inan  have  yet  come  from  the  establishments  of  Bell  and  Lanca^tter. 
The  C^jrporation  and  National  schiwls  are  indeed  seriously  cramping 
the  influence  of  these  predatorial  seminaries,  and  consequently  there 
is  no  class  in  the  empire  more  vehement  in  its  opposition  to  national 
education  tlian  tlie  master-thieves  of  Liver|)Oo1. 

Pur  many  years  the  fury  and  pravity  of  a  Liverpool  mob  have 

»lw«a  proverbial ;  and  it  was  supposed  by  those  unacquainted  with 
like  town,  that  no  great  as»embla(;c  could  take  plncc  without  mischief. 
Thia  t«  a  very  unjust  and  groundless  supposition.  In  a  period  of 
rxcr 
lam 


ftxdternrnt,  it  is  not  iraprcibable  that  a  mob  in  Liverpool  may  he  just 
aa  nuscliievous  as  a  niub  anywhere  else  ;  but  nowhere  could  a  more 


util 


ordsri/  multitude  be  found  than  that  which  accompanies  the  annual 
prnrt— inn  of  the  shipwrights.  With  singular  infelicity  they  have 
fboarn  the  2iHh  of  May  tor  their  anniversary,  taking  as  their  patron 
tihc  monarch  who  did  more  to  lower  the  character  of  the  British 
aavjiUid  injure  the  interests  of  British  commerce,  tlian  all  the  other 

*  7»s  of  England  put  together.     But  this  pardonable  error  is 

ly  blunder.  They  make  their  anniversary  festival  an  oppor- 
for  furthering  the  interests  of  piety  and  charity,  by  attending 
place  of  worship,  where  a  sermon  is  preached,  and  a  collection 
made  for  the  support  of  some  charitable  institution.  The  procession 
itadf  ia  orderly,  and  admirably  conducted  ;  and  there  arc  few  customs 
wlikii  Mffm  better  calcuLited  to  generate  and  preserve  those  feelings 
of  wlf.rcfpect,  which  are  the  greatest  safeguard  of  morality  in  the 
working  population. 

Thm  gmat  improvement  In  the  shop-fronts  In  Liverpool,  a^  in 
London,  is  a  gratifying  and  healthy  Hign  of  the  times.  Some  years 
MDoe,  tl  would  have  been  supposed  that  such  expensive  decorations 
wnnid  liAve  been  a  temptation  tomittcliief ;  thatpl.ite-glasR  would  be 
broken,  gilt  ornaments  wrenched  away,  and  Grecian  pillars  carved 
ind  backed  into  Mime  bdrlmruus  <^J'M-order.  Here,  however,  un- 
daa)K«d  raperienee  ha«  proved  the  humanising  effects  of  taste,  and 
I  Iniliifiutabl V  »hown  that  there  in  a  close  connection  between  theper- 
^^ceptiuns  of^  physical  and  in4iral  beauty.  The  more  beautiful  a  shup 
^■b.  t)t«  let*  in  it  liiible  to  wanton  defacement ;  and  there  is  some  evi- 
^Blcnrv  to  show  that  it  also  becomes  lens  liable  to  depredation.  This 
^■lub)«t»  however,  opens  too  extensive  a  field  to  be  discussed  inei- 
^'dcnully.  At  present  it  will  be  sufficient  to  say,  that  the  moral  in- 
fiwrocca  arising  from  the  cultivation  and  the  gratiffattion  of  taste  are 


136 


lOVBS   GOOD    MORROW. 


of  great  importance^  and  have  been  too  long  and  too  generally  ne< 
glectcd. 

Though  tltere  is  much  to  lament,  and  something  to  blame,  In  the 
condition  ut'the  working  classes  in  Liver|KH>l,  fs|K--cially  lliofic  uftho 
lowest  grade,  it  is  only  justice  to  add,  that  nowhere  arc  there  more 
ardent  aHpinitiuns  and  more  zealous  eiforts  for  their  Bmelioration. 
Pity  it  IS  that  nmnv  uf  these  are  pni&oned  by  the  spirit  of  part}',  and 
that  the  accomplishment  of  an  adcnowlcdged  good  is  often  adjourned 
until  sonie  doubtful  question  of  religion  or  politics  be  ailjusted,  the 
connection  of  which  with  the  ubjccl  in  view  it  would  pnxzlcQildipu* 
himeelf  to  determine.  It  woidd  be  a  decided  improvement  to  intro- 
duce the  old  rule  of  controversy  in  Liverpool, — 


**  Ere  we  to  further  argument  ad\'nnce, 
^f  is  mighty  fit  that  we  should  have  a  dance  ;*' 


4 


for  a  dance  is  more  pleasant  and  less  mischievous  than  a  contx^^P 
sial  debate ;  and  it  is  more  pleasant  to  listen  to  a  fiddle  than  to  a  long- 
wimled  orator. 

Liverpool  is  peculiarly  fortunate  in  possessing  an  encnfetic^  intel- 
ligent, and  enterpriiiing  middle  class,  and  it  bids  fair  not  merely  to 
perpetuate,  but  greatly  to  increaite,  in  all  its  elements  of  prosperity. 
There  IS  not  within  the  seas  of  Rrttain  an  educjttional  estnblisuiment 
bettCT  conducted  than  the  schools  for  the  middle  and  hij;her  classes 
connected  with  the  Mechanics'  Institute;  there  is  nowhere  a  ctiurse 
of  instruction  better  calculated  to  form  and  unite  the  characters  of  a 
man  of  business,  a  gentlemau.  and  a  Christian.  Liverpool  muHt  im- 
prove; fur  the  fuutulHtions  of  its  advancement  are  securely  laid 
the  hearts  and  souls  of  a  future  generation. 


LOVE'S    GOOD    MORROW, 


ar   CKAHLBS   MACKAT. 


SiiiKE  hriLilitly  thrau);li  her  casement, sua ; 

ThcHt,  ijale,  soft  odours  bnog  h^r  ; 
Ye  merry  birds,  that  huil  the  day^ 

Your  swetleat  music  ^lin^j  her  ; 
Smiltf,  Nature,  on  licr,  as  »hf  wakes, 

And  bide  all  sig^his  of  sitrrow  ; 
And  have  no  sounds  but  those  of  joy 

To  bid  ray  lore — good  tnoirow  1 

Good  morrow  to  those  luitrous  eyes, 

With  brtiihl  good  humour  beaming  I 
Good  morrow  to  tliose  ruddy  lips, 

Wltero  smites  art'  ever  teeming  I 
Good  morrow  to  that  happy  hce, 

Uudimin'd  as  yet  by  sorrow  I 
Long;  be  thy  heart  as  fre*  from  care — 

Good  morrow,  love — good  morrow  1 


ir* 


THE  COBBLER  PIIVSICIAN. 

BY   R.   B.    PEAKE. 

CHAPTKR    I. 

It  was  on  m  miserAble  evening;,  in  a  narrow  dirty  street  in  Psdua, 
■nno  1005,  thiit  a  vamper  of  ancient  boots  and  shoes,  named  Giuseppe 
Lob«,  familiarly  called  Criapino  by  the  neighbours,  stepped  I'rom  tfie 
tbreibold  of  hi&  humble  dweHiiif;.  Feeling  the  pattering  of  the  rain 
on  hift  Kcanty  garments,  he  ^i^hed,  and  exclaimed,  "StAntbonv, 
vhat  a  night!  and  all  tbingtf  combine  to  drive  me  out  of  doom.  I 
have  ooi  a  soldo  in  the  world, — there  is  nothing  to  drink, — nothing 
to  eat, — and  my  wife,  poor  creature,  has  just  made  nic  a  present  of 
mothcrr  little  cobbler  !  " 

Cri*pino  waa  already  the  father  of  more  children  than  he  could 
contrive  to  feed,  and  it  wq$  agreed  that  he  should  go  out  and  seek  a 

naor  for  the  small  individual  just  launched  into  existence.  To 
^iraiise  of  the  then  constitution  of  Padua  be  it  recor<led,  that  god- 
fathers and  godmothers  were  connidcred  virtually  liable  for  the  sup- 
port of  their  godchildren.  The  poor  cobbler  made  the  best  ot  Im 
way  ti>wards  the  market-place.  At  the  door  of  his  shop  stood 
Master  Garaba,  the  mercer.  Crispino  thought  that  he  would  try 
if  the  thne  would  fit  with  him,  and  said, — 

"  Good  IFaJtter  Gsmba,  if  ever  I  needed  a  friend,  it  is  at  this  mo- 
mtnL  Vou  and  I  ought  to  have  a  feeling  of  mutual  sympathy,  con- 
iFtitrfftg  that  your  hose  are  drawn  on  the  same  feet  with  my  boots 
and  shoes.  Excellent  Master  Gamba,  my  wife  has  just  presented 
me  vith  a  fine  little  cherub;  if  you  would  but  become  godfather — " 

♦•  Good  night."  cried  Gamba, — he  was  a  man  of  few  words, — and 
•hut  his  sliop-dfrar. 

Oriipino  crossed  the  street  to  a  house  where  dwelt  one  Signer 
Snquarico,  by  trade  a  chemist,  a  great  newsniongerj  whose  shop 
was  the  gosNping  station  of  all  Padua.  The  cobbler  vean  aware  that 
he  could  not  depend  on  the  charity  of  tianquirico,  but  thought  he 
■ogbt  consent  out  of  vanity  ;  so  he  stepped  in  cup  in  hand. 

*"  Signer,  the  fact  is — " 

•*  Pact !  "  said  Sanquirico.  "  What  is  it?  Out  with  it.  Has  the 
King  td  France  got  a  fresh  mistress  i" " 

"  Alack  !  no,"  replied  the  cobbler  ;  "  hut  my  wife  is  again  in  bed, 
and  I  tlirow  myselt  on  your  benevolence  to  stand  sponsor." 

"Why,  Crispino,"  muttered  Sanquirico,  "you  can  afford  to  get 
drank  twice  every  day  at  least.  What  business  have  you  to  drink 
soinnch?  " 

"  When  J  drink,"  said  the  cobbler,  thinking  to  propitiate  the  die- 
mist  with  a  jest,  "  it  is  not  husinest,  but  pleasure." 

^  You  do  not  pay  your  debta,"  continued  Sanquirico,  "  and  that  is 
aot  to  your  credit." 

**  Partlon  me,  Signor,"  said  the  cobbler,  "  it  is  to  my  credit.  But 
the  boy  is  aa  fine  a  little  boy  ad  ever  was  born." 

"DoabtleM,"  replied  Sanquirieo;  "  but  I  don't  like  children.  A 
ftadacts  for  them,  like  that  for  olives,  is  quite  an  acquired  taste." 

••  Will  you  for  once  open  your  heart  to  the  destitute  ?  " 

"  Bcgoae !  "  laid  the  chemist ;  "  you  are  drunk  now.** 

•ofc,  mi,  «• 


THE    COBBLER    I'HVSICIAK. 


Sanquirico  shut  the  cobbler  out.     At  tliis  mument  came  up 
laun(ires5,  uitli  a  basket  ot*  Hnen  uii  her  bead. 

*'  Ko,"  she  flaicl,  "  MaKter  Cri^pino,  I  Henr  tliat  you  are  a  fathe 
ngnin.  I  vvouUl  willingly  become  godmother,  but  I  am  only  the  wife 
of  a  hard-working  mason  ;  however,  frienil,  here  is  a  portion  of  my 
earnings-  Take  it  home,  and  Saint  Anthony  send  you  comfort !  " 
And  the  good  Bianca  glided  away  with  the  glow  that  accompanies  a 
charitable  action. 

Crispino  wiped  his  eyes,  and  exclaimed,  "  There's  a  goddess  ofa 
waHherwoman  !  May  the  sins  of  all  her  family  be  clcar-btarcbed! 
May  none  of  her  relations  be  crimped,  collared,  or  hung  on  a  linel  ?^B 

His  rhapsody  vra»  put  an  end  to  by  his  accidentally  letting  thff^ 
coin  slip  through  his  fingers;  it  <lropped  into  a  ^nllyhole,  and  dis- 
appeared.    Poor  Crispino  sat  down  on  the  step  uf  a  door,  and  nmde 
up  hid  mind  that  ill  lurk  had  now  done  its  worst.     He  was  aroufted 
by  the  appearance  ofa  cavalier  wrapped  in  a  cloak,  who  turned  the 
corner  of  the  street,  and  in  a  state  of  great  excitement  exclaimed 
aloud,  "  Malicious  Fate  !  thou  hast  struck  thy  bitterest  blow.     Mj^^ 
only  love  deprived  of  reason, — thnt  innocent  mind  gone.     All  n^^| 
other  sufferings  vaniah  when  compared  to  this."  ^1 

"  The  gentleman  is  in  trouble,  us  well  as  myself,"  thouglit 
Crispino. 

"On  my  return  to  this  fatal  city,"  muttered  the  cavalier.  "  I  find 
my  commissiion  superseded, —  my  bond  imperatively  demanded, 
tliere  such  another  wretch  on  earth  ?  " 

"  Good  sir/'  said  Crispino. 

"  Away,  friend, — away ! "  cried  the  stranger,  now  for  the  first  time 
seeing  the  cobbler.     "  If  you  are  craving  alms,  I  can  afford  none." 

"  Do  you  happen  to  want  a  godfather  for  ifovr  new-born  off- 
spring? "  asked  Crispino. 

"  Trifle  not,  fellow  !  I  am  in  a  stale  of  desperation." 

"  So  am  I,"  said  the  cobbler.  "  Here  are  two  of  us  in  a  state  of 
desperation.     Let  us  be  uncomfortable  together." 

'I'hc  cavalier  turned  from  him.  "  If  you  are  desjierate,  seek  re- 
fuge in  death,  as  I  shall  do.  Away,  wretch,— away  !  "and  he  rushed 
rapidly  down  the  etreet. 

*•  Ble»ti  my  soul !  "  cogitated  the  cobbler.    *'  Seek  refuge  in  death  !l 
The  thought  pleases  n;e,  and  I  will  follow  him.     I  am  proscribed. 
One  calls  me  a  drunkard ;  another  a  rogue.     1  dare  not  return  to 
ray  starving  home.     Ves ;  I  will  go  and  die  ;  creep  away  from  the 
gaze  of  my  neighbours,  and  breathe  my  last,  utmoticed.     No  aouia 
shall  see  a  cobbler's  end !  " 

Poor  Crispino  stalked  mournfully  down  the  street,  with  an 
tempt  at  dignity,  which   his  figure  and  habiliments  converted  inta 
the  sublime  of  the  ridiculous. 


% 

ac 
ff-      . 


CHArTKR   II. 


to 

I 


Mrantiuk  Crispino  wandered  on,  unconscious  whither,  until  he 
arrived  in  a  small  square  surrounded  by  dismal  uninhabiie*!  dwell- 
ings, depopulated  by  the  plague  during  its  last  dreadful  visit.  In 
the  centre  was  an  uucicnt  well,  known  for  agctt,  though  no  one  could 
tracr  the  traiUtion,  by  the  name  of  the  Ji  ell  of  Drat  It.  The  scene 
was  oiie  of  extreme  clesolaiion,  and  the  bats  flitting  across  on  ilieir 


TU£   COBBLER    PIIYSICUN. 


159 


leatbem  wings  startled  Crispino,  and  recalled  his  senses,     lie  gazed 
rncantl^  around^  and  simddered. 

"  Thr  most  diamal  hole  in  all  Piulua  • — yonder  is  the  Wellof  Death, 
I  401  inspired  by  the  place.  Yon  well  i«  deep  enougli  to  drown  a 
liroken-htrartL'd  cobbler."  A  convent  bell  of  a  very  mournful  tone 
toll«l.  '*  There  'a  mv  funeral  knell — I  will  do  it — it  is  only  one 
jump  I  Lucky  I  'm  Jrunk.  It  would  not  be  respectable  to  do  such 
a  thin^  in  one's  sober  senses.  Good  b'ye,  wife ! — farewell,  children  ! 
Betler  to  die  than  witness  your  tiuflerings.  Courage^  o\d  Crispino, 
nul  good  b'ye  to  you  also  !  " 

He  thook  hands  with  himself,  wAlke<l  to  the  well,  and  was  in  the 
■ct  of  stepping  on  the  [tarnpet,  when  something  cold  f»rasped  his 
hand,  and  a  hoIIow-6ounding  female  voice  inquired,  *'  What  seek 
yoa  ?  " 

Crispino  pnused,  he  looked  round,  and  by  the  dim  light  saw  a  tall 
figure  enveloped  in  dark  robes,  the  face  shrouded  with  a  black  ved. 
Ania  the  sepulchral  voice  uttered,  "  What  seek  you  ?  " 

The  cobbler's  knees  knuckeil  together.  He  stammered  out,  "  I  seek 
dtatb,  and  I  don't  care  who  knows  it." 

Thr  female  in  the  black  veil  replied,  *' Those  whom  he  seeks  be 
liDils:  it  is  uot  always  so  with  those  who  seek  him.  Why  eeek  you 
dsMh^" 

**  I  hare  cause  enough,"  answered  Crispino  doggedly*  Turning 
aside,  be  muttered,  "  Is  not  this  hard  that  I  can't  even  drown  inyticlf 
viliiout  Interruption !  By  St.  Anthony,  there  is  no  liberty  in  the 
l^ace  f     Why,  good  woman,  do  you  interfere  with  my  concerns?  " 

The  appafling  ficure  answered,  "  Because  it  is  my  vocation.  I 
peoetrate  the  nio«t  hidden  places." 

"  I  admire  your  penetration,"  said  Crispino. 

*^ake  this  purse,"  said  the  female ;  "  it  will  relieve  the  wants  of 
yovr  family." 

Crispino  held  out  hie  hand,  and  to  his  surprise  and  joy  felt  that  it 

•■*•  a  weighty  one.     "Ringing  gold  !"  exclaimed  the  cobbler,  his 

'  "iiiR:  in  the  proportion  ua  they  had  bL*en  dejiressed.  "  By  the 

I  am  itupified  !     Oh  !  what  a  godmother  !     Good  lacly^  1 

buptf  you  will  pay  me  frequent  visits." 

"iVay  not  for  my  visit*,"  replied  the  mysterious  stranger.  "  I 
■igbt  pay  ynu  one  which  would  perchance  prove  fatal.  Learn  that 
1  mpect  neither  rich  nor  poor,  old  nor  young.  None  can  avoid  my 
viut,  which  I  mu*l  frequently  in«ke  when  least  expected.  Lead  to 
your  bouse  ;  the  good  woman  needs  ajtsistance." 

The  Inll  female  move<l  n)tijeatically,  but  with  a  noiseless  step ;  she 
hcckotied  Criepino  to  fuUuw.  The  cobbler  chinked  the  purse,  that 
Vto  all  ri};ht:  an<l  he  began  to  imagine  the  old  lady  had  fallen  in 
lov«  with  him.  This  tickled  him.  "  What  an  adventure!  A  little 
eUrrly,  it  is  true;  but  my  grandmollicr  uscil  to  say  th&t  an  old 
htok  always  made  the  best  broth."  Again  liie  female  beckoned,  and 
tWr  pniorrded  together  through  the  silent  streets. 

We  mart  now  place  our>>clves  in  the  private  cabinet  of  the  Com- 
maD«laal  of  Fadua,  where,  seated  at  a  table  covered  w  ith  papers, 
appeared  his  KxceUi'ncy  llie  Count  di  Vicunxa.  He  had  a  low  fore- 
beaJ,  a  contracted  brow ;  his  eyes  were  sunken,  his  cheeks  indented 
villi  CMTV,  his  liair  was  grey,  his  beard  pointed,  and  he  held  in  liis 
iosd  a  small  gnldeii  crucifix,  which  ever  and  anon  he  glanced  at 

1.8 


140 


THE    COBBLER    PHYSICIAN. 


thoughtfully.  At  his  side  stoiKl  a  p«T6on  al>out  the  fame  n^e,  sleekj 
and  straight-haired,  with  protrndinff  eyes  and  a  hooked  nose.  Thit 
was  Signer  Abilemecco,  steward  to  the  Count.  He  was  in  the  un-^ 
pleasant  position  of  receiving  a  severe  Jobation,  which  he  endured 
with  that  patience  which  characterises  bad  servants  who  bold  good 
situations. 

"  How  is  it,  Abileraccco,  that  during  iny  absence  the  Lieutenant 
Albano  haa  again  intruded  on  my  ward,  Valentina?  " 

Abilemecco,  somewhat  startled,  (for  Ite  had  been  liberally  bribed 
by  the  opp*>site  parly,)  replied,  with  a  meek  and  demure  manner, 
"  That  Albano  contrived  (the  Holy  Virgin  knows  liow  !)  to  gain  ad- 
mittance is  true;  but  he  beheld  not  the  Lady  Valentina.  I  pity  the 
poor  young  lady,  and  implore  you  not  to  keep  her  immured  in  Padua. 
Send  her  lience  under  careful  guardianship.  If  her  love  is  to  be  hope- 
less, heal  the  wound  ;  grant  her  the  view  of  hill  and  dale,  of  flower 
and  field."  The  Count  frowned  ;  the  major-<iomo  continuc<l.  **  With 
grief  I  have  noticed  tliat  the  uidiappy  Valentina'a  intellect  baa  pap^| 
lially  sunk."  ^B 

"  Tush  !  "  said  the  Commandant ;  "  let  me  not  hear  this  whining. 
You  know,  Abilemecco,  public  duties  claim  my  attendance.  I  charg^^ 
you  with  the  care  of  Valentina  :  let  her  be  strictly  guarded,  perm<^| 
Cainilla  alone  to  wait  on  her;  and  ahe,  too,  must  be  watched,  tho^' 
no  letter  be  conveyed." 

Afier  Abilemecco  had  left  him,  the  Count  paced  the  apartment. 
"Would  that  she  no  longer  existed  !  "  he  exclaimed.  *'  Her  lou  of 
intellect  affords  a  plea  for  confinement.  But  should  she  recovei^H 
and  marry  this  Albano,  then  nin»it  I  r;.>nd(:'r  up  an  account  of  ni^H 
guardianship.  That  accursed  faro  table  !  —  I  have  laid  my  toils  for 
her  minion  though  —  ere  to-morrow  he  will  discover  the  loss  of 
his  commission,  M-hilc  the  purchased  bund-debt  (triply  laden  with  a 
Jew's  interest)  will  exliaufit  and  incjirceratc  him.  I  have  ventured 
too  deeply  to  retract." 

CHAT^KR    III. 

Tbr  morning  dawned  through  the  chinks  of  tlie  rude  shutters  < 
the  cobbler's  dwelling,  and  waked  up  a  jay  in   a  wicker  cage,  who 
kept  jumping  from  the  flour  to  hi:*  perch,  and  from  perch  to  flmir, 
with   occdhionally  an  anxious  pei^p  to  ascertain  whether  there  waj 
any  breakfast  in  preparation.     Nina,  a  daughter  of  Cnspino,  who 
had  been  in  attendance  on  her  mother  all  night,  .stepped  in,  and  be- 
gan to  arrange  the  furniture.    The  mother  had  fallen  to  sleep;  pious 
resignation  had  borne  her  through  her  trial.     Nina  suddenly  ex- 
claimed, ^_ 
"  Where  is  Stefaro  ?    Why.  brother  Stefano,  I  any,  get  up !  "       ^M 
She  drew  aside  a  faded  curtain  which  concealed  a  recess,  for  whic^^ 
Stefano  had  grown  too  long  ;  he  was  doubled  up  in  it  like  a  portable 
boot-jack.     With  a  yawn  which  threatened  that  the  young  gentle- 
man's head  might  come  in  halves,  he  twiated  himself  out  of  his  dor- 
mitory partially  attired,  and  rubbing  his  eyes,  he  drawled  out, — 

"  \Vhai,  in  the  name  of  the  saint*,  has  happeneft  while  I  have  bem 
asleep .'  "  said  the  boy. 

"  We  have  got  another  little  brother,  Stefano." 
Stefano  coolly  remarked.  *'  Well,  our  family  increases  like  ral^ 
And  where  is  the  old  buck  ?  " 


THE    COBBr.ER    PHYSICIAN. 


141 


■  If  you  are  ■peaking  of  father,"  replied  Ninn,  "he  left  the  house 
hours  »(jo,  in  despair." 

At  tht«  luoinent  Crispino  w:t$  heard  oiitiiide  the  window^  hnwling^ 
I  ^rightly  ditty  then  much  in  vogue  with  the  Paduans.  The  jay 
erected  its  crert  feathers,  jumped  on  and  off  its  perch  with  increaiteu 
rapidity,  and  chattered  in  mi  unknown  tongue. 

Nina  shrugjfed  her  shouldera  —  "I  fear  that  somebody  /las  given 
fftther  credit  (or  a  bottle  of  wine." 

In  walked  CriBpino,  elated  and  laughin/;.  "Nina,  my  girl,  1  am 
th«  happiest  dog ! — kis.s  me,  girl,  kisa  me  !  Look  here,  here  is  a  purse 
of  gold  !  "  He  pulled  it  from  his  pocket,  and  tlie  bright  broad  pieces 
gUttercd  in  the  morning  gun.  ''  Run,  Nina,  and  buy  every  comfort 
^our  pour  mother  requires.  Eh  !  your  looks  aeem  to  inquire  where 
It  coined  frutn  ?  Nina,  1  hnve  obtained  a  wcalUiy  godmamma  for 
fittle  Arir-f ome .'  " 

Away  flew  Nina  with  the  good  news,  while  Stefano  was  ingeni- 
fttwly  cfevising  the  best  method  of  putting  on  that  portion  of  his 
jupare]  called  in  those  days  "  trunks,"  rn  after  ages  *'  breeches." 
H'hile  fiutening  the  waistband,  "  Fother,"  said  he,  "  how  strange  it 
ii  that  my  clothes  have  grown  too  wide  for  me  ! " 

*•  None  of  your  threadbare  juke»,"  retorted  Crispino. 

**  Are  we  going  to  have  something  to  eat,  father  ?  Look  at  my 
waistband  ;  here  is  room  for  it  whole  loaf." 

"  Vou  idle  raical !  how  many  years  have  you  gorged  on  the  earn- 
iijga  of  my  labour.^  " 

**  Gorged  )  "  thought  Stefano,  ns  he  pl:iced  his  hand  on  his  stomach. 

"Am  not  I  a  cobbler  i*  "  continued  his  father;  "and  have  you  not 
always  Iwen  a  jr/<i//-fed  beast  ^  But  here,  boy,  take  that  coin  ;  bring 
s  plentiful  breakfast  —  the  best  wine,  and  a  bucket-full  of  macca- 
roni !" 

8tcf«no  stored  at  the  gold,  bis  eyes  glistened,  while  his  mouth 
watered.  Klfet  a*  a  huund  on  so  deUcate  an  errand,  away  he  scam. 
pered  into  the  street. 

TTic  cobbler  now  beg.nn  to  reconsider  his  late  adventure.  "  Aa 
we  walketl,"  said  he,  "  through  the  streets,  that  exemplary  old  wo- 
mn  told  nie  I  must  abandon  my  profession.  *  Quit,'  said  sne,  '  your 
nment  pursuit,  and  follow  the  practice  of  phyaic'  Physic  !  Hu  t 
ha !  I  a  physician  ! — who  know  no  more  of  menicine  than  a  hog  !  As 
for  my  curing  anybody,  it  would  be  like  curing  bacon — aW  gammon  f 
—  But  the  old  lady  naa  iilipped  away.  Where,  1  wonder.  Is  the 
ther  ?  " 
'  Here,  Crispino,"  uttered  an  unearthly  voice. 

The  cobbler  turned,  and  saw  the  black  drapery  and  veil  seated  in 
kit  arn)>cli}iir.  He  started^  and  tremblingly  utlerpt),  "  Rlcsii  my 
KKol,  fair  WignoraJ     How  and  when  did  you  enter?  " 

The  Udv  or  phantom  answered  him  not,  but  inquired,  "  Have  you 
muMlrreu  my  proposal?  I  will  insure  your  fortune  ;  but  to  merit 
this,  you  must  pay  implicit  obedience  to  my  directions.  Present 
youfieir  boldly  to  whoever  may  require  a  physician,  and  mark  me! 
wfceD  Id  the  prcwnce  of  the  ailing  person,  cast  your  eyes  around  at- 
tCRtiveJy.  If  ur  hrad  appears  to  you,  ]tronounce  the  p.itii'tit  past 
hope  ;  yon  will  be  right :  if  you  do  nut  behold  me,  a<lniiut9tcr  but  a 
litilr  water,  and  thr  sufferer  will  recover.  Make  good  U6c  of  the 
'lich  will  flow  in  upon  you."     The  form  then  disappeared. 


14S 


THE   COBDLKR    PUVSICIAN. 


Crispino  was  in  a  state  of  great  perplexity.     *'1%  she  a  aorce 
—or  when  1  am  practising  according  to  the  f;c>od  lady's  instruc 
and  tliey  discover  that  1  am  an  ass,  will  nhe  be  there  lo  ward  off 
tlie  blows?     However,  I  have  promised.    U'the  first  trial  laiU,  1  can_ 
but  go  back  to  my  lapstonc.     I  have  a  targe  family  to  boot,  —  and 
woT.«e  than  that,  to  shoe  f  " 

He  waa  interrupted  by  tlie  return  of  Stefanu  laden  with  breads ; 
fowl,  sausages,  milk,  a  rope  of  onions,  a  huge  platter  of  ready^ 
dressed  ninccaroni,  and  a  flask  of  wine.     At  the  t^ight,  old  Crlspiud 
brightened  up.     '*  Tftty  decide  the  question,"  said  he.     He  poured^ 
out  a  cup  of  wine,  and  drank  "  Success  to  Doctor  Giusejjpe  Loba, 
commonly  colled  Crispino."  ^_ 

"  Listen  to  me,  Stelano.  —  no  more  cobbling,  no  more  lapstoneSa|H 
nor  lasts.  I  intend  to  chnnge  my  profession  to  that  of  "  doctor."^* 
Let  me  feel  3'our  puUe,  if  you  have  got  such  a  thing  ;"  and  Crispino 
took  Stifano  by  the  arm.  "  I  don't  know  exactly  where  to  find  it- 
To  get  my  hand  in,  I  must  practise  on  ray  family.  Here,  child, 
go  and  purchase  a  couple  of  dozen  of  leeches,  and  X  will  try  and 
leant  my  art  by  putting  them  on  your  back." 

"  Two  dozen  leeches !  "  shrieked  Stcfano.  "  Look  at  me  !^I  coul 
not  nfibrd  a  meal  for  three  of  them !  " 

"Well,  well,  at  any  rate  I  must  have  a  proper  dress.  At  the 
Jew's  ut  the  comer  for  these  la»t  nine  years  has  hung  a  black  velvet 
suit  If  I  must  he  a  doctor,  it  is  but  honest  to  go  into  mourning 
before  I  commence  practice.  Henceforth,  my  son,  call  mc  Doctor 
Crispino." 

"  I  will.  Doctor  Crispino.  "  How  drunk  he  is  ! "  thought  Stefano. 

The  cobbler  sent  hi»  son  for  a  »heet  of  pasteboard,  and  dipping 
brush  into  a  pot  of  blackings  scrawled  on  it. 


% 


CBlBPmO    HAS   LSFT   BIS  COBBLRBB  STALL, 
ACTS  AB  A    DOCTOB,   AND  CUBEB  VOU  ALL. 

After  several  glances  of  admiration  of  bis  handiwork,  he  nailed  it 
vutAide  the  street  door. 


CHAFTBR   IV. 


mff^^i 


'4 


The  day  advanced ;  the  stream  of  population  flowed  throo^ 
Patlua  ;  the  peasants  cried  their  vegetables,  poultry,  and  fish;  the 
Doctors  Belcuorc  and  Perruca  were  Mpping  cups  uf  chocolate  pre- 
pared for  them  liy  Sanquirlcn,  the  chemi.st,  at  whose  e£tjd>li!thuent 
ihej'  made  their  morning  rendezvous.  J 

"  Doctor  Bclcuore,"  inquired  the  chemist,  "  how  is  your  beautifutl 
patient,  the  Signora  Valentina  ?  " 

■*  Her  disorder  is  more  mental  than  corporeal.  I  do  not  like  the 
letli'irgic  symptoms." 

Another  physician  entered  the  shop.  This  was  Doctor  Furetto,  a  ^J 
little,  red-faced,  pasaiuitate  man,  with  thin  white  hair  sticking  out^| 
in  all  directions  like  herring-bones.  He  clenched  in  his  hand  the^^ 
placard  which  he  had  torn  from  the  ci-deimnt  cobbler's  door,  and  was 
in  a  state  of  ungovernable  rage. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  most  sweet-tempered  doctor?"  whispered^ 
Kanqoirico — "  Humph  ?  " 


TlIK   COfiflLEA   PHYSICIAN. 


145 


*'  fidiold,"  exclaimed  Puretto,  "  an  attack  on  tbe  iirofesMon  !  The 
dronkm  shoemaker,  Cnttpinu,  han  luid  tJie  audacity  to  exhibit  this 
pUcird  OH  the  door  of  his  rut-devoured  tenement !  "  Belcuore  and 
Pnrmca  laughed.  "  Right,"  said  Furetto  ;  "  expose  roe  to  ridicule ; 
yoa  are  my  rivals  !  " 

At  this  moment  a  jfreal  outcry  arose  in  the  street ;  a  poor  artificer 
iud  &Ueu  iTom  tiie  ruof  of  a  house,  a  rna5on  who  was  repairing  a 
htluMmde^  and  had  tumbled  into  a  large  tjink  of  water  in  the  court 
beneath,  whence  he  was  immediately  carried  to  the  laboratory  of 
Sanijuirico, — the  mob  fullowinjT,  us  custoniary  on  such  occasiom^. 
The  dcK'tor.«  rendere'i  their  aid  ;  they  opened  a  vein.  Belcuore,  with 
t  shake  of  the  head,  exclaimed,  "  It  is  useless  !"  At  this  mi>mcnt 
a  fcnude  forced  her  way  through  the  crowd,  and  rushed  into  the 
laboratory. 

"liartojo!  Bartolo!  it  is  Bianca,  your  wife  I  Oh!  he  is  sense- 
len  !  "  And  ahe  franticlv  knelt.  "  Good  Signors,  re^itore  him  !  lie 
wuever  a  kind  husbana  !     Again,  again  try  your  skill  t  " 

Jielcuore  humanely  said,  "  Aly  gmul  woman,  lamentations  will  be 
Ino  avul ;  endeavour  to  calm  your  feelings." 

At  tiiiH  moment  Criitpino  entered,  full  dresued  in  the  old  suit  of 
bbrk  velvet,  which  did  not  fit  him  at  any  point. 

Furetto  muttered,  "  What  is  this  mountebank  6gurc?  " 

"  Stgnor  Furetto,"  gravely  aaid  Crispino,  *'  1  beg  to  inform  you 
Atf.  1  also  am  a  phvsictan  ;  so  do  not  send  your  shoes  to  my  shop 
mf  more  to  be  hecl.pieced." 

'.  phyncian  I  pah  !  "  replied  Furetto. 

i|iino  looked  anxiously  round  to  see  if  the  godmother's  pale 
liroold  appear,  lie  gazed  with  great  attention,  then  suddenly 
■id,  "  Shall  1  cure  him  ?  "  Belcuore  exclaimed,  "  Cri«pino,  this  i» 
no  time  for  jesting."  Crispino  replied  in  an  animated  tone,  "  I  am 
ia  nn  joking  humour.  Bartolo  was  my  friend.  Something  inspires 
ne  with  ci>nfidence  that  I  aliall  put  the  old  man  on  his  leva  again. 
Hope  for  the  best,"  uiid  he,  turning  to  Bianca.  And  he  again 
hoktd  round  mysteriously.  "  Suk  is  iiot  here!"  muttered  he; 
"bat  if  I  foil,  how  they  will  pummel  me  !  " 

*"]t  is  bopelcBfl,"  uid  Belcuore.  "Come,  brothers."  And  tbe 
^octun  quitted  the  room. 

**  Signer  8anquinco,"  said  the  cobbler,  "  prithee  bring  a  bottle  of 
raw." 

Kov,  as  the  curiosity  of  the  chemist  was  excited  to  observe  what 
eitraTii^nce  the  cobbler  would  commit,  he  took  a  bottle  of  wine 
trnm  m  sbelf ;  and  placing  it  in  Crispino's  hand,  ihquired,  "  How  will 
jmx  make  the  poor  fellow  swallow  the  wine?  " 

"Make  Itim  swallow  it! "  replied  Cribpino ;  "the  wine  is  for  me, 
I  an  oervous,"  uaid  he  ;  and  he  tasted  it  from  the  neck  of  the  bottle. 

**  iDGorrigible  drunkard  !  "  angrily  exclaimed  Hanquirico;  and  tbe 
byilKidcTs  gathered  round  Crispino  murmuring. 

^  Back,  J  say,"  said  Crispino ;  "  don't  crowd  on  me;  this  is  tlie 
critkal  mmnrnt." — Crispino  tremblingly  pourcil  a  little  wine  into  the 
OMMtkaT  Bartolo,  looked  round  with  extreme  anxiety,  muttered  "  No 
pale  head  1  —  lla  1  hurrah  !  By  Saint  Anthony,  he  moves  !  He  16 
iliwr- 

BiM  raiaed  her  hu<band,  '*  Ah,  friend ! "  she  excUimed,  "  how 
1 1  cxprtaa  my  gratitude  !  " 


144 


THE   COBBLER   FUYSICIAM. 


"  Not  a  word,  Bianca.     If  your  husband  dies  again,  bring 
me.     The  fatigue  of  this  operation  has  overcome  me.     The  draught 
as  heforc."     And  Criupino  took  a  hmg  drink  at  the  bottle. 

And  the  mob  shouted  "  Long  life  to  Doctor  Crispjno!  "  Lifting 
the  new  professor  into  a  chair,  they  hoisted  him  on  their  shoulders, 
and  carried  him  all  over  the  city  of  Padua. 

Time  passed,  and  Doctor  Crispin©  became  the  admiration  of  Pa- 
dua. He  was  never  once  wrong  in  his  calculation ;  if  he  affirmed 
that  the  patient  would  live,  the  patient  recovered.  All  wondered 
how  lie  came  by  his  knowledge.  He  had  cunning  enough,  however, 
to  keep  his  secret,  and  fees  poured  in  ;  but  the  proverb,  '  Set  a  6m- 
gar  on  horseback,'  &C.  was  verified  by  the  cobbler-physician.  He 
removed  his  wife  and  family  into  a  better  dwelling ;  but  they  were 
little  the  better  for  it,  as  Crispino  now  drank  mure  llian  ever.  No- 
thing was  done  to  educate  his  children ;  and  as  for  Master  Stefano, 
notwithsUmding  he  was  attired  in  a  piled  velvet  suit  of  gaudy  colours, 
his  hands  and  face  were  much  of  the  same  hue  ai  when  he  sat 
amongst  the  old  boots. 

CHAPTER  V. 

In  a  dark  mean  caf^y  in  a  filthy  alley  in  Padua,  sat  a  bulkv  st 
wart  fellow  of  most  villanuus  aKpcct ;  his  Idng,  coarse,  black  hair 
hail  been  quite  innocent  of  the  luxury  of  a  comb,  two  of  his  great 
sausages  of  fingers  perturming  the  office  of  thnt  implement.  He  bad 
a  broad  gash  across  tlie  nose,  where  the  wound  had  healed  into  a 
seam,  which  added  anything  but  beauty  to  a  sinister  aspect  of  the 
organs  of  vision.  The  figure  wore  a  jerkin  of  ilirty  buff  leather, 
patched  in  various  parts ;  no  shirt ;  vest  and  trunks  of  red  5rrge, 
the  latter  met  by  a  wide-mouthed  pair  of  boots  of  untanned  leather. 
He  had  a  long  stiletto  in  his  belt,  to  which  also  was  attached  a  rusty 
back-sword-  Before  this  interesting  person  wa4  a  rough  table,  on 
which  stood  a  pewter  stoup  with  some  dregs  of  brandy,  and  a  Vene- 
tian drinking.glass.  This  respectable  gentleman's  name  was  Andrea. 
Perhaps  we  ought  not  to  be  too  curious  to  inquire  bis  profession: 
he  must  speak  for  himself. 

"  Here  is  the  shnrpest-etlged  dngger  in  all  Padua— but  let  me  ar- 
range my  little  affairs  with  regulnriiy.  Plaintiff,  the  Count  di  Vi- 
cenza;  defendant,  the  Lieutenant  Albano.  The  Count  is  my  client: 
I  am  engaged  profess!  on  idly  :  the  most  acute  advocate,  for  I  gene- 
rally make  my  way  to  the  heart  in  a  moment!  This  is  a  love  affair. 
The  Count  says  this  must  touch  the  heart!  Ho!  ho!  ha!  they 
should  designate  me  as  the  Cupid  of  Padua,  for  many  are  stricken 
by  me  in  all  loving-kindness  ]  " 

Sijcnor  Andrea  drew  forth  bis  stiletto,  and  rubbed  its  edge  on  a 
small  hone  which  lie  took  from  his  vest ;  poured  the  remainder  of 
the  brandy  into  the  glass,  and  tossed  it  off;  then  wiping  his  fingers 
un  his  hair,  bawled  to  an  old  woman  in  an  inner  ap.irlment,  "Celes- 
tina,  chalk  it  up."  He  then  put  on  his  greasy  broud  hat,  and  made  a 
»aU\i  into  his  alley. 

Meanwhile  Lieutenant  Albano,  being  aware  that  the  catchpoles  of 
the  law  were  inquiring  for  him,  on  account  of  a  certain  unpaid  bond, 
kept  himself  scc!luded.  He  contrived,  however,  to  mtike  his  way  in 
the  dwelling  of  Doctor  Helcuore,  and  the  good-natured  physician 
admitting  him,  the  Lieutenant  exclaimed — 


TOE   COBBLER    PHYSICIAN. 


145 


"  I  cannot  exist  without  intelligence  of  Valentino.  Think  of  the 
•Ute  of  her  I  adore  I  " 

"Give  time,"  said  Belcuore.  "Time  is  the  most  equitable  of 
jadgcs,  and  }'0U  must  submit  to  Uh  decision!." 

"  Abu  !  "  replied  Alboiio,  "  Time,  like  De.ath,  is  portrayed  scythe 
in  hand, — and  dme  will  be  death  to  me  !  Procure  me  but  an  inter- 
view witli  Valentina." 

**  Your  pre«ence  might  produce  a  crisis  unfavourable  in  her  pre- 
lent  weak  titate/'  replied  Belcuore. 

Alhano  left  the  huuse  of  Belcuore,  and  wandered  about  he  scarcely 
knew  whither.  At  len^fth  he  rested  liis  fevered  head  against  a 
marble  column.  Andrea  stalked  along  the  pavement  stealthily,  like 
A  tiger  seeking  its  prey.  He  hastily  piiUcil  from  below  his  hat  a 
block  vizor,  which  concealed  his  countenance ;  nnd  was  preparing 
to  aim  a  blow  at  Albano's  heart,  when  a  form  passed  between  thera 
^4  tall  womon  in  cable  garments.  This  for  the  moment  saved  Al- 
bono ;  who,  stepping  from  the  portico,  crossed  the  street,  and  en- 
tered  o  cuBee>nouse,  with  tlie  intention  of  writing  once  more  to 
Valentino.  The  bravo  watched  htm  into  the  cq/'e,  but  dored  not  en- 
Ut,  because  there  were  sevtral  j>ersons  seated  therein. 

Kow  Ilfaster  Siefano  had  purchased  at  an  armourer's  an  antique 
bor*e-pistal  wherewith  to  amuse  himself,  being  entirely  a  gentleman 
of  leisure,  and  loaded  it  with  twenty  shoemaker's  pegs,  and  a  piece 
of  candle  by  way  of  wadding.  He  had  seated  himself  at  the  step  of 
a  door,  and  began  to  cat  a  few  comfits  to  ]>as9  the  time.  In  a  few 
nuaates  the  Lieutenant  issued  from  the  coffee-house,  with  ttie  letter 
b«  had  penned,  and  was  rucking  his  brains  as  to  the  mode  in  which 
H  coiild  be  conveyetl, 

Stefano's  cu^io^ity  was  here  aroused  on  perceiving  a  tall  man  in  a 
block  ma>k,  making  his  way  iptickly  behind  Alhano^  and,  raising  his 
ana  with  the  intention  of  stabbing  nim  over  the  shoulder.  Stefano 
Otteted  a  loud  cry,  resembling  that  of  a  puppy-doE;  who  has  been 
Ucked.  The  Lieulen;int  turned,  and  instantly  grappled  with  his  un- 
known adversary.  Andrea  was  of  superior  strength  ;  he  dashed  the 
UeutcnanI  down,  and  was  again  raising  his  stiletto  to  immolate  his 
rietim,  when  Stetano,  sitting  on  the  step,  could  not  resist  painting 
bis  pistol  at  the  bravo.  He  pulled  the  trigger.  Andrea  uttered  a 
yell ;  a  fearful  curse,  and  fell  backwards  heavily  on  the  pavement. 
SleCuiD,  perceiving  the  effect  he  had  pruiluced^  jumped  up,  his  knees 
knocking  together,  turned  the  corner  of  the  piazza,  and  scampered 
off, 

"  Ad  attempt  on  my  life ! "  ejaculated  Albano.  The  report  of  the 
l^stnl  brought  out  several  persons  from  the  coffee-house ;  and  at  this 
period  Cri^pino,  who  had  been  enjoying  himself  in  a  neighbouring 
Urem,  was  crossing  the  place  in  his  way  homeward.  "  Help — help 
Br.  friends,  to  raise  this  miserable  man  ! "  exclaimed  Albano. 

"  Is  he  alive,"  haid  Crispino.     Andrea  still  writbetl  convulsively. 

**Ile  aimed  at  my  life,"  said  Albano;  "but  some  unseen  hand 
brought  him  down  with  a  shot." 

••Ah!"  exclaimed  Crispino,  "then  somebody  aimed  at  his  life, 
umI,  it  seems,  has  /ill  it.  Our  godmother  has  a  hand  in  this.  Now, 
Lseutniant,  if  you  want  to  know  whether  this  man  wilt  recover,  J 
*[U  tell  yon."     And  Crispino  looked  around  deliberately. 

**SpCiiki  friend,"  exclaimed  Albano. 


•'>.     And  ^Judtlenly  lif  wiw  the 
■  ••■■  Hxed  on  the  bud_\  ul'the 

.■  -i::!!  the  cobbler  had  lor  mi 
-...  =-<Mis  a]>pe  irance,  he  tremlved 
■      i.  i  this  per.-on." 

;'rnsf. 
.;t--:ii])t  on  inv  lite?  "  thoupht  Al- 
..  :;if  Count,  is  implicated  in  this. 
,    ••  wretch." 
■;'  the  event.  Albano  and  Crispino 
'.■•■diictd  from  within  the  red-^erje 
■    j-Mitaining  these  words  :  "  Ax  a prtpji' 
_    vi-  Ihv  rin^  vf  ifimr  victim.     It  is  an 
■i/r'nirrr." 
.      sesit."  thought  Albano;  and  he  inimeJi- 
..  J  of  Cri.s|)ino,  to  diitgiiise  himself  in  the 
iid.  above  all,  the  mask  of  Andrea,  and 
uiit  de  Viccnza,  with  his  own  opal  riiii: 
i^iitina)  in  his  hand.     Having  thus  far  eun- 
-    i;;reeably  surprised  by  the  cobbIer-phy>i- 
•f  -lad  been  sent  for,  and  directed  to  repair 
-i>cc:;d  purpose. 
■»:-;v;ite  ^'ate  of  the  palace;  where  stooil 
:  :W  the  cobbler-pliysician  and  the  bravo. 
.  .  :o  black  mask  on  liis  face. 

•■.mediate  audience  to  Doctor  Crispino/' 
.  ■  crossed  to  the  supposed  bravo,  and  ad- 
;-t-.  ■*  Andrea,  it  is  my  master's  desire  that 
-x.  ;iiul  that  you  do  not  speak  to  any  one 
\  .M  brought  any  token  to  the  Count  ?  " 
.■.\\»  the  opal  riii^, 
■-.   ^.lU'way.    Come.  Crispino." 
'. .    If  Crispino.   if  you  please.     I  am  the 
V:'.d  he  strutted  into  the  court.      Albano 
•v'  -in-hcd  doorway.     Abilcmecco  soon  re- 
V  Imiio  to  follow  him,  wlio  congratulated 
^•.-  more  see  Valcntina. 


*  ilXl'lKU    M. 

'  A\  had  but  (»nc  window,  overlooking^  a 

^.vl  the  untbriunat<'  \'alentina.     The  ap- 

,  by  a   narrow  staircase,  which  leii  to  a 

■  vmu.      'i"he   apartment   was    hung  with 

•  ■  tion  of  tlu-  adventures   uf  AnKidis  de 

•^'  easement;  on  a  table  in  the  centre, 

x».ri'  scattered.    On  one  fii<le  was  a  white 

■  ■'..;;///(/'/('  pedestal.  Old-fashioned  hliih- 

<    E'urni>hed  this  apartment  ;  and  on  the 

■    .1    di.-ttirbeJ   shunber.      C.imilla,  her 

•or  mistress.     "  J*oor  soul !  "  she  ejacii- 

...  fc'Uccd  her  c_\cs  for  many  weary  hour*. 


TUB  COBBLKR   PHYSICIAN. 


14-7 


1  have  placed  the  harp  npar  the  window,  that  the  air  may  chance 
to  vibrate  the  strings."  For  Camilla  had  found  that  V'alcntina  had 
breti  aroused  from  her  state  of  stupor  by  the  wild  harmony  tims 
rrcMCcd.  Valentina,  sighin;^  deeply,  opened  her  ej-es,  which  had  be- 
oome  bollow,  and  lacked  a  healthful  lustre.  At  this  moment  a  strain 
of  melody  swept  across  the  hiirjt-strinps.  Valentina  raised  her  head, 
and  tnnurnfuliy  uttered,  "  Hark  !  the  spirit  of  Albano  wanders 
oeund  !  "     And  the  tears  Howeil  rapidly. 

"  Slpnora, "  said  Camilla,  "  lend  rae  the  lute  for  one  short  minute." 
Valentine  resigned  the  lute  reluctantly  to  her  attendant,  who  said 
irchly,  "Our  grim  guard  shall  be  outwitted:"  anil  she  shook  a 
small  envelope  from  the  centre  aperture  of  the  lute,  and  gave  it 
to  her  ini*:tre5s. 

"Ah.  Heaven!"  cried  Valentinaj  seizing  the  billet.  "It  is  Alba- 
Do's  writing." 

Both  miiftress  and  raaid  were  cnmparstively  happy;  bat  it  was  of 
■hort  duration  :  for,  while  they  M'ere  thus  engaged,  the  Count  had 
eotered  the  ante-room  unheard,  and  stealthily  stepped  into  the  cham- 
ber. He  listened  for  a  moment;  then  snatched  the  precious  letter 
from  Valentina's  hand. 

*'My  commands  again  disobeyed  I  Know  for  your  punishment," 
said  the  Commandant  malignantly.  "  that  your  minion  is  dead  .'  " 

"Dead  !  "  cried  Valentina.  "  Monster,  you  but  wickedly  invent 
this  to  sear  my  heart." 

"  He  ha^  \ei\  the  gentle  Valentina/'  replied  the  Count,  "  a  legacy, 
—this  opal  ring  !  " 

"  Vea — yes !  "  shrieked  Valentina.  "  It  was  Albano's  ring ;  it  was 
my  gift  to  him  ;  he  would  not  have  parted  with  it  but  with  cxist- 
tate.  Wretch  that  I  am  1 "  and  the  poor  girl  again  sunk  insensible 
an  the  couch. 

Albano  in  his  disguise  now  entered  the  room,  and  the  Commandant 
deacendrd  to  consult  with  the  newly-made  pliyfiJcian.  The  Hcutcnnitt. 
BMcd  on  ^'ftIentina.  His  heart  bleil  at  beholding  her  misery.  As 
he  approached  the  couch  Camilla  interposed,  "  Avaunt!  "  said  she, 
"it  la  fruitlcsK  to  appeal  to  your  sympathy.    Behold  your  victim — " 

She  was  interrupted  by  tlie  voice  of  Crispino,  as  he  ascended  the 
itaira,  aaying,  "Snow  me  to  the  Lady  Valentina.  Fie*  Mistress 
Abigail."  said  he,  as  he  walked  into  tlie  room,  "  don't  look  so  cross. 
I  will  cnre  your  lady." 

Camilla  bestowed  on  the  cobbler-physician  a  look  of  contempt. 
He  crovscd  to  the  couch  ;  and,  touching  Valentina,  said,  "  Her  hand 
ind  innples  are  cold,  and  her  heart  has  ceased  to  beat."  Anil  he 
looked  round  the  room  with  anxiety,  drew  his  breath,  and  said, 
"The  godmother  is  md  in  the  room.  Calm  yourself,"  turning  to 
Albano  ,-  "  be  aisured  tliat  Valentina  will  recover.  Ah  !  ha  I  Ah  I 
ha !  I  will  recover  her.  Come  hither,  little  Abigail,  and  do  not 
ip<Ml  your  pretty  face  by  rucli  sour  looks.  The  disorder  of  your 
tBistreu  is  in  the  heart.     She  is  in  love." 

Camilla  cried,  "  Hush !  yonder  wretch  will  overhear." 

"  Brtwrcn  ourselves,  yonder  wretch  will  be  delighted  to  hear," 
rr|i  lino.       "  Hnrk  ye,  Abigail,   I  am   about  to   prewrribe, 

—  V  f  ik  you  of  a  husbnnd  of  her  own  choice  ?  —  to  be  taken 

rmrocdiatcly.     Hush  1  yonder  is  the  man  she  loves." 

'^  Tbe  terrible  Andrea !  "  said  Camilla. 


148 


THE   COBBLEK   PHYSICIAN. 


Albano  unfastened  the  visor ;  andCamilla^  taken  unaware,  shriek-^ 
ed  loudly,  exclaiming,  "  IJoly  Virgin  !  it  is  the  Lieutenant !  " 

'■  Hush — hush  I  "  (*id  Crispino,  "  you  will  ruin  us  all." 

Albano  had  hardly  replaced  his  madk  before  the  Count  entere 
the  room,  and  inquired  the  cause  of  the  shrieking. 

*'  I  have  a^toni^hcd  little  Abig»il  here,  your  Excellency,"  said 
Crispino.  "  I  have  prescribed  for  the  lady.  Now  my  strict  orders" 
are,  that  she  is  to  be  kept  quiet,  and  that  you  do  not  intrude  on  her 
rest."  He  then  took  the  Coniniflndant  on  one  side.  hihI  wliispered, 
"  And  let  that  fellow  ^minting  to  Albano)  he  within  call ;  he  will 
probably  be  M-anted.  The  Comniandatit  directed  Cribpino  Xv  follow 
Itim  to  his  cabinet ;  and,  as  the  old  ro^e  went  out,  Crispino  nigniB- 
rantly  put  his  finger  to  the  side  of  his  no^e.  and  in  a  whisper  to  Al^^| 
bono  exclaimed,  "  Hurrah  for  the  cobbler  !  "  ^| 

Crispino  was  closetted  for  some  time  with  the  Commandant  of 
Padua, —  an  honour  of  which  he  was  not  a  little  vain.  After  flatter- 
ing him  on  his  extraordinary  popularity,  the  Count  presented  him 
with  a  bag  of  golil,  and  ninkcu  nini  to  bring  to  the  palace  a  certain 
fatid  drug  prohibited  from  being  sold.  From  that  moment  all  that 
was  bad  in  Crispino's  nature  became  predominant.  He  again  drank  ; 
but,  instead  of  being  enlivened  by  the  liquor,  it  caused  a  brutal 
feeling  within  him.  He  went  to  his  home.  "  The  Commandant  of 
Padua  has  given  me  his  friend^iihtp,  and  a  weighty  purse.  This  U 
fortune  without  labour.  What  does  he  want  with  that  drug?  What 
is  that  to  nieP     He  hai!  bought  nie." 

As  he  raised  his  eves,  Crispinu  suddenly  perceived  the  tall  ladyl 
in  black  sitting  oj)posite  to  liim.     He  started,  and  stammered  out, 
*'Ha!  godmother,  welcome  !** 

She  ga^ed  at  him  mournfully,  nnd  said,  "  Hypocrite!  you  know 
that  I  am  not  a  welcome  guest  When  I  ]>ut  you  in  the  road  to  ob- 
tain riches,  I  did  not  calculate  on  the  sudden  alteration  of  your  dis- 
position J  Unjust  to  your  children,  you  suffer  them  to  wandcrr  an 
vagabonds.  You  have  shown  tlic  blackest  ingratitude  to  thcfriend»_ 
who  succoured  your  misery  !  " 

"  Good  signora,"  said  Crispino,  "you  will  confer  an  obligation  bj 
not  interfering  with  my  family  cdnccrns." 

"  You  have  leugucd  yourself  with  a  villain,"  continued  the  stra 
person. 

''  You  wear  me  out  with  your  preaching.    Go  home  and  to 
there 's  a  good  old  witch." 

*<  Crispino,"  replied  the  woman  in  black,  *'  we  depart  hence 
gether." 

"  ]  will  go  out  no  more  to-night,"  sulkily  muttered  the  cobbler. 

"Come  then,  spite  of  yourself!"  sternly  cried  the  figure;  and 
Crispino  felt  his  wrist  claspe<l  liniily  by  chilling  bones  of  fingen, 
which  almo^t  froze  him.  She  led  Crispino  on  with  solemn  steps, 
nor  stopped  nor  snnke  until  they  arrived  at  the  dismal  square  in 
which  Bt*>od  the  Well  of  Death.  The  mysterious  being  mounted  on 
tlie  parapet,  and  Cri.spino,  powerless  in  her  grasp,  was  compelled  to 
follow  her.  They  gradually  sunk  lugether  tlown  the  well  to  a  great 
depth.  Crispino  felt  his  feet  touch  a  cold  floor,  and  heard  the  sepul- 
chral voice  utter,  "  This  catacomb  is  my  home.  It  is  time  you  should 
know  who  I  am.  I  will  show  you  the  decorations  of  my  dwelhng. 
Behold  !  "     As  the  darkness  broke;  a  most  extraordinary  scene  pre- 


THE    COBBLEa  PHYSICIAN. 


140 


seated  itself  to  the  alarmed  Crispino.  Countless  rows  of  lamps  were 
disposed  ill  every  direction,  extending  in  interminable  perspective. 
"  Behold,"  uid  she  of  the  sable  garb, — "  Behold  the  Lights  op  Life 
m  the  Cavern  of  Dkatit.  Each  lamp  contains  the  life  of  a  human 
beine.     As  the  oil  consumes,  so  decays  the  exiatence  of  man." 

Crifipino  stared,  and  exclaimed,  "  There  is  one  almost  extin- 
guished J " 

"That  is  the  life  of  a  miser,"  replied  the  phantom;  "one  who 
daring;  many  years  practiced  self-denial  to  accumulate  wealth:  he  is 
now  at  his  last  extremity:  his  relatives  have  seized  his  idol  richcx, 
and  leave  him  to  die  on  a  pallet.  See,  tlie  lamp  expires ! "  Pointing 
to  another,  "'  Behold,"  said  she,  *'  that  is  the  flntterinjjf  existence  of  a 
haughty  desjmt.  One  who,  to  uphold  an  artiBcial  consequence,  has 
led  armies  to  battle,  and  sent  thousands  bleeding  to  their  graves. 
The  glaring  meteor  of  ambition  ha!>  fallen  tn  this  little  flickering 
light.     'Tis  gone,  and  leaves  the  wretch  benighted  in  his  errors  !  " 

Crispino,  shaking  with  terror,  asked,  "  Is^a  roy  life  there  ?  " 

"  This,"  exclaimed  the  phantom, 

"  What,  that  one  so  nearly  out  ?  "  cried  Crispino  falteringly. 

'Yen.  It  has  but  few  minutes  of  existence.  Hear  ine.  Ingrate! 
;  were  in  despair  and  wretchedness.  It  was  ordained  that  I  should 

Ittver  you,  and  point  the  path  to  fortune.  How  have  you  returned 
these  benefits?  Instead  of  employ  ir)g  your  wealth  in  good  deetls,  or 
training  your  children  in  the  right  way>  hardened  and  obdurate,  you 
have  acted  repugnantly  to  humanity.  But  it  was  time  to  check 
your  iniquity.  You  at  length  have  arrived  at  Ueatb's  Dock.  See, 
the  light  dwindles!  one  breath  from  my  lips  would  instantly  anni- 
hilate it." 

The  lamp  flickered,  and  the  female  in  black  leant  over,  prepared 
to  extinguish  it ;  when  Crifipino.  filled  with  fear  and  remorse,  cried 
out,  throwing  himself  on  bis  knees,  *'  Mercy  I  mercy  .'  Kepentance  ! 
lincere  repentance." 

"  The  light  bums  bright  agftin  !"  solemnly  exclaimed  the  phan- 
Umu  ^'  One  triJil  more  I  31ortal,  return  to  the  world,  and  your  du- 
ties.    But,  remember !  " 

As  the  morning  dawned,  the  cobbler  awoke  from  an  uneasy  slum- 
ber. He  was  seated  at  the  tablf  ;  and  had  been  sleeping  in  the 
chair  which  he  had  occupied  the  previous  night.  He  endeavoured 
to  collect  his  scattered  ^eni^es,  and  then  recollected  distinctly  all  he 
had  seen,    lie  trembled  at  the  remembrance. 

Crispino  ascended  to  the  chamber  occupied  by  his  wife,  who  was 
seated  with  an  open  missal  before  her.  As  he  entered  the  door, 
Nina  exclaimed,  "  It  ie  ray  father  ! " 

*'  Yeii,"  replied  Crispino ;  "  a  father  come  to  ask  forgiveness  of 
Heaven,  and  of  you,  for  all  neglect  and  unkindness,"  and  he  knelt 
by  the  bed,  and  said,  "  Pray  on,  Nina.  Return  thanks  to  Heaven 
that  your  father  has  bade  farewell  to  his  follies.*'  The  poor  wife, 
rejoicing  in  the  ninceritv  of  his  tone,  shed  tears  plentifully. 

The  Count  di  V'icenza  was  convinced  of  the  death  of  Albano  ;  and 
Valentina  having  partintly  recovered,  was  suffered  to  quit  the  turret- 
chamber.  The  Count  guve  orders  for  a  ft'te,  at  whicli  he  intended 
Valentina  should  ap|>ear,  and  that  then  the  subtle  poinon  to  be 
broaght  by  Crispino  should  be  given  to  her.     Should  thb  plan  fail, 


loO 


THE   COBBLER    PHYSICIAN. 


he  had  itill  the  ready  knife  of  Andrea.     He  accordingly  ordered. 
Abilcmccco^  to  bring  Andrea  to  htm.  M 

"Close  the  door,  brave  Andrew,"  said  the  Count.     "I  would  un^l 
fold  to  you  the  wish  of  my  heart.     Yon  have  experienced  ray  libe- 
nility.     Vou  must  be  prepared,  perhaps  this  nigbt,  witlt  your  trusty, 
stiletto."  ■ 

The  young  Lieutenant  for  the  instant  forgot  bimselC  and 
claimed,  "  Detested  coward  atid  villain  !  " 

The  Commandnnt  rose  in  surpriiitej  it  was  not  the  sound  of  tfa 
voice  of  his  emissary ;   and  he  called  lustily,  "Ho!  Abilemccco  J 
treachery  I "     The  steward  was  rapidly  on  the  spot ;  the  visor  wm 
torn  ofT,  and  the  Count  stood  aghajit  at  the  sight  of  Albano. 

"  Ves,  monster !  I  am  a  witness  of  your  guilt,  and  live  to  de- 
nounce you." 

He  wa.1  instantly  seized.  ^'Abilemecco,"  exclaimed  the  Command- 
ant, **  Convey  your  prisoner  to  the  oubUdle  beneulh  the  moat.  "  By 
what  cursed  fatality  has  this  event  occurred  ?  '*  thought  the  CuunL 

The  guests  were  aa-wmbling.  The  spacious  apartments  of  tlie 
palace  were  brilliantly  illuminatetl.  Strains  of  music  floated  around, 
and  beauty  crowned  the  fascinjitian  of  the  scene. 

Afeantime  Crispino  arrived  in  the  court  of  the  palace :  he  knew 
not  how  to  face  the  Count,  for  he  had  not  brought  the  drug.    "  Now 
I   have  discovered  that  I  have  a  conscience,"  said  he,  "  I  am  mighty 
chary  of  my  proceedings.    Bless  my  heart  I  only  think,  if  my  light^ 
had  been  pulled  out." 

The  tall  lady  glided  from  behind  a  column,  and  ejaculated,  **  Cris 
pino." 

"  Ye — yea," 

"  A  good  man  keeps  his  promise." 

*'  I  assure  you,  Signora,  that  I  have  been  on  my  best  bchavioarj 
ever  since  I  left  your  door."  1 

The  phantom  said,  "You  promised  the  Count  to  procure  him  « 
certain  drug." 

"  I  have  promised  to  be  honest  and  virtuous  for  the  future,"  re._ 
plied  Crispiiiu.  I 

"  Keep  both  promises."  and  she  put  a  phial  in  his  hand ;  "  here  i«| 
the  drug;  take  an  opportunity  to  give  it  to  the  Commandant.  \{ 
shall  not  be  idle !  A  few  minutes  more,  Cri^pino,  and  I  relieve  you  < 
of  my  presence  for  ever." 

Notwithstanding  the  hell  in  his  breast,  the  hypocntical  Count 
di  Vicenza  appeared  to  be  conversing  with  great  .ifirfbility  among 
Iiis  guests.  ■'  Thanks,  my  charming  friends.  The  Liidy  Valentina, 
partially  restored  to  the  blessing  of  health,  welcomes  ye  beneath 
this  roof.  She  is  yet  an  invalid  ;  but  could  not  feel  happiness  until  fl 
again  surrounded  hy  those  she  has  the  pleasure  to  esteem."  V 

And  now  the  dancing  commenced  ;  the  music  mounded  ;  the  fea- 
thers waved,  and  the  gems  glittered.  The  volets,  in  riclily-lsced 
liveries  handed  round  the  ices,  confcctiouarvi  and  sorbets. 

Crispin©  entered ;  his  heart  beating.  The  Count  approached, 
and,  taking  him  on  one  side,  deniando<l  the  potion.  Crispino  gave 
him  the  phinl.  and  said  to  bimaeif,  "  Ueavcn  forgive  roe,  if  I  have 
done  wrong ! " 

The  Commandant  took  a  crystal  goblet  of  lemonade,  and  secret- 
ly emptied  the  contents  of  the  phial  into  iu    lie  then  sent  Abite- 


THE    COnULKU    PHYSICIAN. 


151 


n«cco  to  order  Crispino  to  come  to  him.  "Carry,"  said  he  to  the 
o«l»bler-nhys.iciiWi,  "  carry  that  restorine;  draught  to  Valentiiia)" 

Crifptno  dared  not  dittobey,  for  the  eye  of  the  Count  waa 
vitching  him  narrowly.  He  crossed  to  the  sofa,  on  which  Valen- 
tina  was  seated^  and  delivered  the  fatal  goblet  into  the  hand  of 
Camilla,  who  stood  by  the  side  of  her  mistress.  He  was  quaking 
with  dread,  when  his  mind  wn3  relieved  by  the  figure,  which  he  «up- 
pii»cd  to  tie  Camilla,  turning  ;  to  his  great  Niir])ri)ie  he  saw  the  HKxn 
Bt' the  godmother.  She  protiuced  instantaneously  a  second  goblet, 
nactJy  resembling  the  other,  which  Valentiim  received,  and  drank 
Uirrefrotii. 

The  Count,  who  had  been  looking  on  from  a  distance.  exultin^Iy 
•bicrved  that  Vojentina  had  tasted  of  the  goblet.  "  She  hoA  im- 
bibed the  poi«on,"  thought  he,  and  he  called  toAbilemecco  for  wine. 

Abilemecco  advanced  towiirtU  a  page,  who  whs  bearing  a  silver 
■Iver  covered  with  crystal  drinking-cnps,  when  Crispino  saw  the 
phantom  suddenly  place  the  goblet  which  nhe  held  on  the  iuilver.  The 
atxt  moment  it  was  bnrne  by  Abilemecco  to  the  Commandant, 
Tho.  putting  it  to  his  lips,  drank  greedily.  Cri«pino  was  transfixed 
with  astonishment.  In  an  iiMtint  tlie  Count  exclaimed  wildly, 
"TVfcheT)'  !  treachery!  I  nm  poisoned  !  Abilemecco  I  fuithle&A  viU 
toi,  thoa  hast  betrayed  thy  master  ! "  He  rushed  franticly  at  the 
Meword,  and  plungeil  a  poniard  into  his  breast.  The  Count  fell 
wtilliiDg  on  the  floor.  A  scene  of  great  confusion  immediately  en** 
hmL 

CriipEno  thought,  "  All  is  as  it  should  he,"  and  he  looked  round 
ta  the  Ust  time  for  the  hkad.  It  was  there.  The  Cummanclant 
bccnne  livid ;  he  gnashed  hts  teeth,  and  expired  in  the  greatest 
hsluica.  ^___ 

Onr  historian  here  breaks  off.  He  does  not  wind  up  his  tale  to 
icondutioa,  nor  assure  us  of  its  truth  ;  but,  many  years  afterwards, 
■hra  that  great  philosopher,  Lord  Uacon,  had  his  sentence  of 
ODpraMmment  and  fine  remitted  by  King  James,  ond  shone  out  in 
thai*  literary  productions  which  have  made  his  weaknesses  to  be 
fiiguUeii  by  posterity,  he  had  nccnsion  to  send  over  a  learned  clerk 
Id  Padua  Co  obtain  a  copy  of  a  curious  controversial  work  connected 
«ith  the  then  subject  of  his  studies.  Thi»  (^entlenum  heard  the  sin- 
plar  hialnry  of  the  person  who  had  been  called  the  cubbler-phy- 
■cian,  and  also  of  the  supposed  appearance  of  one  of  the  j'aiu'ae 
fiBitly,  Atropoi>  ;  but,  It-arned  as  he  was,  he  could  not  quite  recon- 
dlr  the  Hc.ithen  Alythulogy  with  the  existing  state  of  afiaira.  It 
affrareH.  however,  that  a  hale  old  fellow,  one  Gmaeppe  Loba,  com- 
Mmty  called  Crispino,  had  retired  on  a  little  independence  acquired 
by  making  and  vending  boots  and  shoes ;  that  he  bore  a  good  cha- 
rtcirr:  was  patronized  by  a  Colonel  Albano,  who  allowed  him  an 
iMwritr ;  and  that  an  undersized  young  fellow,  of  voracious  appe- 
tite, Stttkno  by  name,  who  boasted  that  Crispino  w  iis  hit)  father,  ncld 
tlir  honoarablc  po-tt  of  a  drummer  in  the  Colonel's  regiment ;  and 
thai  was  all  tlic  student  cnuld  gather  of  the  history  of  the  Coddlkr 
PflmcJAM,  OR  THB  Well  op  Death! 


15S 


WRECK   OF  TH 

A    BAt. 
BY   HSNRY    U'. 

It  was  tho  scliooiier  Hesperus 

That  sail'd  ilie  wintry  sea; 
And  tlie  skipptr  had  ta'en  his  Utile 
daughter 

To  bear  him  company. 

Hlui:  were  her  eyes  as  ihe  fairy-flax, 
Iler  cheeks  like  the  dawn  of  d^y. 

And  her  bosom  swecl  as  the  hawllwra 
buds 
That  ope  in  the  month  of  May. 

The  skipper  he  stood  beside  the  helm, 

With  bis  pipe  in  his  mouth, 
And  watch 'd  how  the  veering  flaw  did 
blow 

The  smoke  now  west,  now  south. 

Then  Qp  and  spake  nn  old  sailur, 
Had  nail'd  tlio  Spanish  Main, 

"  I  pray  tiiee  put  Jnio  youder  port. 
For  I  fear  a  hurricane. 

"Last  night  the  moon  had  a  (golden  ring, 
And  to-night  no  moon  wc  sec  1 " 

The  skipper  he  blew  awhifFfrom  his 
pipt'. 
And  a  scornful  laugh  laugh'd  he. 

Colder  and  louder  blew  the  wind, 

A  gale  fioro  the  iiorth-ea>it ; 
The  snow  fell  hissinjj  in  the  briue. 

And  the  billows  froth'd  like  yeast. 

Down   came   the  •tons,  and  smote 
amain 
The  vessel  in  its  strength ; 
She   shudder'd    and    paused,    like   a 
frighted  steed, 
Then  leap'd  her  cable's  length. 

"Come  hither  1  come  hitlier  t  my  tittle 
daughter, 

And  Ju  not  tremble  so ; 
For  I  can  weather  the  roughest  gale 

Tliai  ever  wind  did  blow." 

He  wrapp'd  her  warm  in  his  seaman's 
coat 

Against  the  slinging  blast; 
He  cut  a  rope  ftora  a  brolcea  spar. 

And  bound  her  to  the  mast. 

"O  &i1i«t!   1  hear  the  churcli-bells 
ring— 

Oh !  say,  what  may  it  be  ?  " 
*<  Tis  a  fog-bell  on  a  rock-bound  coast  1 " 

And  he  steer'd  for  the  open  sea. 

"  O  father  t  I  hear  the  sound  of  gutu — 

Oh  I  say,  what  niiiy  it  be  f " 
"  Some  ship  in  dislrcis,  that  CiUiuot  live 

In  such  an  angry  sea  !  " 


E    HESPERUS. 

LAI). 
I/ONGPBLLOW. 

*'  O  father  t  I  see  a  gleaming  light — 
Oh  1  say,  what  may  it  be  V 

But  the  father  answer 'd  nerer  a  word, 
A  froaen  corpse  was  he. 

Lash'd  to  the  helm,  all  stiff  and  aUrk,] 

Witli  his  face  lo  the  skies. 
The  lanlt^rn^leam'd  through  iheglenm-l 

ing  snow 
On  bis  fiv'd  and  glassy  eyes. 

Then  the  maiden  clasp'd  her  hand»,and  J 
pray'd 
That  sav^d  she  mittht  be; 
And  she  thought  of  Christ,  who  still'dj 
the  wave 
Od  the  lake  of  Galilee. 

And  fast  through  (he  midnight  dark 
and  dri:ar. 

Through  tlie  whistling  stectand&now, 
Dke  a  sheeted  ghost  the  vessel  swept 

Toward  the  reef  of  Norman's  Woe. 

And  ever  the  fitful  gusts  between  I 

A  sound  came  from  the  land ;  ' 

It  was  the  sound  of  the  trampling  surf 
On  U)c  rocks  and  the  hard  sea-sand. 

The  breakers  were  right  beneath  her 
bows, 

She  drifted  a  dreaiy  wreck. 
Anil  a  whooping  billow  swept  the  crew  ^ 

Like  icicles  from  ber  deck. 

She  struck  where  the  white  and  fleecy  ^ 
waves 

Look'd  soft  as  carded  wool; 
But  tlie  cruel  rocks  titey  gored  her  »id« 

Like  the  honu  of  an  angry  buU. 

Her  rattling  shrouds,  all  ib«ath«d  la  ] 
ice, 
Willi  the  masts  went  by  the  boaid. 
Like  a  vessel  of  glass,  she  store  and 
sank. 
Ho!  ho!  the  breakers  roar'd ! 

At  daybreak,  on  the  bleak  sca-beoch, 

A  fisherman  stoo<l  aghast 
To  see  the  form  of  a  maiden  fair 

I.ash*d  close  to  a  drifting  mast. 

The  salt  sea  was  froren  on  her  breast. 

The  salt  tears  in  her  eyes; 
And  he  siiw  her  hatr,  like  the  browa  j 
sea- weed, 

On  the  billows  (all  and  rise. 

Such  was  the  wreck  of  the  Hespenu, 
In  the  midnight  and  the  snow  I 

Christ  save  us  all  from  a  dca^  like  (his 
On  the  reef  of  Nortnan's  Woe  I 


l/>.^ 


THE  CORPUS  MSa 


rnis  is  an  age  esst-nlially  nitiunalixlic  ami  inqiiiriiijr.  Beyond  llie 
Tttinty  of  nothing  )ii>in<;  eertdin,  tliere  is  riu  Tart  ofivliicfi  we  cuii  hi* 
a»  orrtAin  as  to  lie  certain  of  it.  Have  we  grown  up  from  buytiood  in 
■emv  fondlT-cherixhed  belief?  Straight  an  academic,  who  has  gnidn- 
•tcd  at  the  London  Univentity,  ariseH  to  n&Hirre  us  that  we  are  quite  in 
OTTor,  •'  All  Tery  well,  you  know,  twenty  years  ago,  but  no  man  of 
nmnNia  lense  will  beliere  such  stuff  now  o'  days.  Haven't  you  seen 
IHi/fMar  It  item  h  bird's  Enquiry  ^  (JHSt  number  of  the  Cabinet  Cyclo- 
padia).  'E^ad  .'  he  handles  it  in  pretty  style — oil  a  falbicy."  —  We 
tat  recaircd  to  doff  all  our  old  poetic  feeling,  to  cut  the  poor  thinpi, 
"and  in  the  street,  too,"  whilst  we  must,  farsnoth,  cap  the  mammotlm, 
ucgalntherid,  and  other  beasts  of  burthen  of  the  bke  nature.  Pity 
tbe  whole  tribe  of  innovators  is  not  in  the  transition  state  they  are  au 
tmd  of  talking  about ; — the  end  of  the  transit.  Botany  Bay. 

TTiiuking  thus  on  these  |X)iuts,  and  being  t'outent  to  remain  in 

■>f  dark  E^pt  as  ciimpared  with  this  so  much  tnlked-of  Goshen,  it 

wn  DO  nnail  dflijilit  to  me  to  find  the  wherewithal  to  crush  inie  of 

the  data  nf  repttlcs,  whom  my  rouI  nbhont,  on  their  own  dungtiill.     It 

&a«r  •light  to  be  known  to  all  the  male  portion  of  the  lieges,  that  of 

late  y«Lr*  a  stmnf;  attack  has  been  made  upon  the  earlier  ]>ortion  of 

Ui«  Roman  HinU'ry,  by  a  certain  stolid  German,  culled  Niehuhr,  who 

Lkta  knit  Komulus  and  Clieeks  the  I^lnrine  by  an  airy  copula  ;  and  made 

na  IVnij>ilius,  like  Jack  Kohinson  or  Jem  Crow,  figure  as  the  hero 

Pvf  ■  pepnlor  song.     It  had  been  better  for  tliis  lenrned   pundit  had  he 

*Wan  flootented  tostick  to  hrs  meerschaum  and  murrkraHt  amid  the  iio- 

iMwer  dattde  ahadesofGottingen,  Bonn,  or  any  other  of  tho*(e  studious 

■ammitin.    I  will  spare  him.  under  the  idea  that  iH-fure  this  Huntulus 

kM  lirMwht  an   action  for  dofauiation  of  chamcter  ngainist  him  before 

B>y  Lurd  Chief  Justice  MinoK,  and  a  respectable  and  enlightened  jury 

M  twrUtf  ancient  Romans,  wrapped  up  in  their  vlitionary  togte. 

But  to  i\\K  point,  and  let  Dr.  Arnold  beware  how  be  proceeds  with 
fci*  craile  history  — history,  indeed  !  In  the  library  of  Corpus  Cfaristi 
CcUcfir,  Cantbritige,  it  has  been  mv  good  furtuoc  to  meet  with  some 
tadeot  Pdlinipfcftts,  written  over  with  monkisb  legends,  similar  to  those 
NCvnlly  brought  before  the  public  by  Thomas  Ingoldsby.  Suspecting 
ftan  lAtir  ipitearunrc  that  there  was  something  in  them  more  than 
■»t  the  eye,  I  inuantlv  detenuined  to  apply  to  the  very  enllgbtuned 
int  liberal  .Master  of  llie  college,  \v\w  received  me  with  his  usual  ur. 
Wakv.  I  ttjitrd  the  object  of  my  vikit,  mentioning  that  I  had  disco- 
*Wta  in  the  library  of  the  college  some  ilSS.  wliich  appeared  tome 
la  pwfi  a  gottd  deal  of  interest,  and  I  was.  therefore,  anxious  to  try 
VpiB  ibein  Aogelo  Mai's  Albolutrum  or  bleaching  liquid,  which  the 
Inroed  Abbe  hu.i  already  used  with  great  effect  in  the  noble  library  of 
Ue  Vatican.  The  Master  replied,  with  great  courtesy,  "  that  Ite  n  iiihed 
MMdtody  would  take  the  butch  cheap,  as,  from  the  nature  of  the  pupi-r, 
Ary  wvn*  scarcely  capable  of  being  applied  to  their  usual  purpose  of 
piB-wadft.  Indeed.  »ir/'  added  he,  "  to  tell  the  truth,  I  shnuld  be  glad 
lorxcfasnge  tbe  whole  lot  with  Mr-  Stevenson,  for  bis  magniticetit  col- 
Wtam  of  Kuinances,  or  anything  that  the  KcIIowb  noutd  read.  I  may 
(ell  yoB,  sir. — but  il  need  not  go  any  further —  that,  except  about  this 

VOL.  rill.  M 


COEPOS   USS. 


KkdfiniC  it  a  perfect  v^cunm. — a  deserted  cbo- 

-  ife  FeUnvs  of  this  college,  after  they  've  taken 

-^iM^vA*  ft  d^gnv,  never  take  anytliing  el»e>  except  when 

«tt»  «dfc  oadk  other,  n-hea  they  're  taking  their  whnck  out 

r^^lRt*  or  taking  their  leaves  after  they  're  taken  their 

Mdnally  tht-y  take  a  cold. — D'  ye  take  me.  Sir  ?  " 

-t^rfo^  ftf  couth;,  to  the  Miistcr's  jocosity:  "  When  do  the  jokes 

^  T«c  BBS  crer  fall  upon  a  deaf  ear  ?  "  and  so  ended  my  intcr- 

*«■•  mA  t&is  di^itory. 

I  iMliimi  d  in  triumph  to  my  rooms,  with  the  treasure  ander  my  vm* ' 
jttditm  iato  the  gutter  a  sliady-Ioukiug  bachelor  in  a  white  bat,  im- 
UVHk  in  a  Fellowship  examination  jmper,  and  a  collie  Tutor,  who 
WHK  wftlking  down  Trumpitigtou  Street,  smiling  at  the  tamp-posts. 
win  Uttiiictiixiate  bedmaker  was  the  next  victim  of  my  nTath,  which 
sttuovd  its  maximuoi  in  a  kick  to  a  poor  animal  uf  the  dog  species, 
miiich,  despite  threats  on  the  parts  of  the  college  authoriticft,  bad  been 
fur  sutue  three  terms  snngly  domesticated  in  my  rooms.  Now  wu  tlt« 
time  fur  the  gmnd  projection,  the  liquid  was  applied, 

"  Joy,  joy  for  ever,  my  task  is  done, 
T)ie  AISS.  cleaned,  and  Nicbuhr  done." 

The  under-writing  appeared  beautiful  and  distinct.  Flere  is  a  spe- 
cimen of  it.  []It  must  be  premised  that  the  spaces  which  appear  un- 
filled jirise  from  the  sporting  propensities  of  the  guanliuns  of  the  library, 
uudtbat  iti  the  uriginul  MS.  these  are  of  a  circular  farm,  tlie  undoabted 
it  of  a  gun-punch.J  The  Latin,  an  all  scholars  will  perceive  ot  a 
ce,  )t>  of  the  most  early  Jute :  clearly  as  old  as  that  of  the  sons  of 
iKnttmi  Ambarvales,  or  agricnlturul  society.  I  found  that  my  first 
I  iMi.  W  rest  one  of  the  problems  of  classical  antiquity.  The  trea- 
H  neither  more  nor  less  than  a  Komon  Neu-spajier.'  I  had  fir^t 
_  [whifct  must  have  been  a  part  devoted  to  the  Sporting  intelli- 

mmn    Tb«  ptfagraph  was  in  Uncial,  or  (for  the  benefit  of  the  vulg&r) 
QMibJ  leCiers*  &od  ran  thus  : — 

'■  xL^nn .  ROMvr,  svbs  (^aunwad)  no .  finzr . 
p» .  K  .  iVNi .  (gunri'ad)  vbtt  (gHNtvad)." 

^||l»  lib  •videutly,  if  written  correctly   with  the  blanks  filled  up, 

"  .\tb«  Kituiuli  subscriptiva  venalio  erit  pridie  kalendais  Junii "  (the 

^.i  ...^J  adiuits  of  dispute-)     We  should  interpret  the  whole  adver- 

ihitt: — "  The  Royal  Subscription  Pack  will  throw  off  nt  Albn, 

h,  uoisstt  the  weather  prove  'vd':"  or,  again,  the  last  word 

Ob*  uguiBcation,  that  "  heavif  vei  (in  later  times  called  Cerr- 

■^yMtittX  be  provided  for  the  sportsmen.     Again,  it  may  be  a 

.Miilit  W  those  appended  to  such  notices  in  our  own  daya, — 

%  '  ,^.ii,"*  eouivaleat  to  *'  Take  care  not  to  ride  over  the  yoaiw 

^^  .•  Jrwiuiul  outrage  peri>etrated  by  the  Fellows  of  Corpun 

<  L  this  point  should  ever  be  set  at  rest.     The  wholo 

otuurkiible  for  many  reasims,  but  chiefly  for  these ; 

"'  I  subscription  pack  of  hounds,  the  fair  inference 

\iitrd;  secondly,  if  the  pack  were  a  subscrip* 

w»  thill  there  must  Iiave  been  certain  well-de- 

..u  existing  Iwtween   the  several  orders  of  the 

tiianly  recreations  were  studiously  prouiotcd  by 

.    1    \.^\ti  the  citizen  and  tliu farmer  were oa  ciirefiill] 


TBE  COaPUS   MSS. 


U5 


respected.  The  condact  of  our  William  I.  and  RomuluK  present  some 
ttriking  onalos^es  and  contrasts,  which,  with  certain  fulluwing  adver- 
tUfnients,  will  go  far  to  prove  ttie  existence  of  ganie-Iawft  iimoiirrst  the 
indent  Romans.  Before  proceedings  I  wilt  mention  to  my  readers 
that  it  is  not  my  intention  to  present  them  with  any  more  exHmples  of 
tlie  newspaper  in  the  unciiil  character:  I  shall  merely  give  the  sub- 
Mance  in  En^rli^h,  quoting  the  Latin  where  there  Reenin  any  obscuritr. 
Any  i^ntlemnn  who  wishe.s  to  follow  the  subject  out  further,  need  onfj 
Apply  to  Mr.  Bcntley,  who  will  at  once  gratify  him  with  a  sight  of  fac- 
nmileB  of  the  original  MSS. 

But  we  will  jHUS  rapidly  over  the  comparatively  uninteresting  adver- 
ttttiig-«l»eett  and  go  at  once  to  the  "  leading  article,"  which  we  discover- 
ed ia  the  next  MS.  to  which  we  applied  the  "  Alljolutrum."  We  call 
U  "  the  leading  article,"  as,  from  the  enlarged  characters,  and  conceited 
tone  of  the  writer,  it  evidently  pniceeded  fn)m  the  pen  of  one  who 
iUcd  a  pMt  corresponding  to  that  of  "  editor  "  of  one  of  our  owu 
Jouroftli.  It  was  a  rigarouti  appeal  to  the  Koman  public  on  the  im- 
portant subject  of  the  mode  to  be  adopted  of  propagating  their  name 
and  lineage  by  meoiix  of  matrimony.  It  commenced  "  pop  .  boss."  evi- 
dently meaning  '*  Komun  people  I "  and  proceeded  in  the  nervous 
termh  which  we  subjoin,  freely  translated. 

"  With  regard  to  '  the  Society  for  the  Propagation  of  the  Konmn 
Dame/  we  would  direct  the  attention  of  our  rendejrs  to  an  article  in  our 
find  page-  We  cannot  supfMiJte  them  to  be  ignorant  of  tlie  object  of 
that  cociety,— sensible  as  they  must  be  at  every  moment  of  the  wnnt 
wUdi  it  propoaes  to  remedy.  There  are  other  wants,  which  may  not 
ht  Ml  at  all  timet,  by  all  agen.  nor  in  all  phuies  ;  but  the  female  sex 
rew  oar  youth,  delight  our  age,  adorn  our  prosperity,  cheer  our  ad- 
Ttrtity-  delight  us  when  at  home,  give  Us  no  trouble  when  abroad, 
Bprnd  the  night  with  us,  travel  with  us,  rusticate  (or  pcrhapa  we  should 
■ay,  are  ru!>ticated)." 

Here  we  must  pause  a  moment  to  draw  some  important  inferences. 
0>r  rrad«rs  will  nlresdy,  the  learned  at  leoKt  amnng^it  them,  have  de- 
tteted  the  impudent  pla;j;iaritim  of  Cicero  in  \m  cclelirated  apostrophe 
to  literature  in  the  oration  for  Archlas  the  |>oet.  It  in  word  for  word 
takco  from  this  paa&age,  subMtitutiog  "  literature  "  fur  "  wives,"  and  be- 
^■a  (for  those  who  choose  to  refer  to  the  [ius»age),  "  Nam  ueteroe  itefjue 
tmpoRua  stmt  aeqne  ntatum  omnium  ueque  locorum/'  &c  Thia  is 
in  aoeordance  with  what  onn  might  have  expected  from  Cicero,  that 
Mirtest  literary  humbug  of  antiquity,  that  Dionysiuft  Lardner  of  old 
Hwnf .  wbo  never  aigncd  his  name  to  a  familiar  twopenny-post  commu- 
■ication  to  Athens,  without  attaching  to  it  an  alphabetical  chaos  of 
fiVerary  and  adentific  titles.  The  second,  and  perhaps  more  important 
lafertnoe.  connected  with  this  extraordinary  extract,  ia  as  follows  : — If 
aica  were  rusticated  (and  "  nisticantur  "  is  the  word)  in  the  days  of 
Rcmuluii,  whence  were  they  rusticated?  From  Universities!  The 
tfriadoaiaii  is  inevitablp  that  there  were  Universities  in  ancient  Rome  ! 
■ad  morv,  that  thete  Univemitiea  were  unfettered  by  the  monkish 
natlklimn,  which,  in  one  point  at  least,  turn  our  own  into  Trappist 
aHaawteries,— whore  female  foot  may  never  tread, — for  bed-makers,  if 
women  they  mu»t  be  called,  certainly  deserve  to  be  ranked  as  a  sepa- 
rate apeciea*  The  Hnman  undergraduate  we  nee,  when  from  the  coo- 
aa^oanee  of  youthful  indiscretion  he  was  obliged  for  a  while  to  quit  his 
taarara  of  Academe,  might  still  tiud  solace  in  the  arms  of  a  loving  wife, 

u  2 


.     .:.i.-rjUii  l":..-cr-.t:t:-. 

.:  LMiiifiirt-!  i't  ::..:•  '"■rt. 
.('  ciiiinot  licl:»  rr.vviiij 

i  tlll'UlSulvus. ■■»  r  CiV.' 

■  r'.-Ti\  jtiite  (tt  K, :  .  ■«  it!. 

\VI;;it.  «*e  s:iy. —     ■  :  »■.■ 

■.:  liiiun  :i  certii::  ~   .»■;■ 

Z    :"  tlii>.'  —  hoM-  l-;.^  nr'* 

t:.'.  r.y  r      Ituniuiirs  h-vt' 

..»i'.  t-i  the  Siibiin< — -vt* 

:-.  l.f  ilr.i\vii  up. — 'lut  t!it? 

i:  .:::;.  iri-ut'i-vinii  shiciid 

..  :":■■::;  :.::   liTihirij'y  Wiiiit 

.-.-■.■-  ■:.*..    it  s-iic!!  ;i  iliiii;; 

.. ;  ;   :::  in  tlu-  scc-niii 

-■ !.■  \-i'  cliri»ti'iU'(l 

..  r.:z    ii'n'a'H  in 

■      -  :.:i:i..n:" 

.    •  .      .  .._e  tlie  n'rittT 

-  --   -.     G,:ier.il  \';i]- 

:  ■  .-  ti.^ro  was  a 

.r*-lvf!'  htk'  ill  :i 

-   .^. :  t.»  l:.i:nt  in 

:    • .  .    .       .,.:i>n  b^jtwei'ii 

■    -     :  X  '-'••:!ir  ;iri» 

_       ■         J  t  -  :\xn  tr.c 

■    ■■:■  '.\i:\^  ..t 

,-■    •    .  -.:.^\.."th^- 

.  :      . .  .-r  rr>t 

-.     ::  l-.,:.r>.!ri 

-    ■   ■:■.■  t\:-t- 

,        :-.' '\\Vr:i«l 

:• :    v.i;  t..r 

.     ■    .:.:    .:  il.o 

.■    .•■■._I  „.{i 

■»--.;   •  \*  r:«T. 

.<     ^  r    ■'..<. 'l.'r- 

■    '  ,  r  -■.,  \i  .> 

.       I.  .:■:  vi.- 


THE    CUUPUS    MSS. 


137 


a  tingnldr  posture,  flinging  stones  to  the  beat  of  their  ability.  Here 
th*?  dtrfendnnts  were  observed  to  HmiJe.  The  L!ct«r  then  wunt  on  to 
it«tr,  that  tlio  prisoners  were  standing  on  the  stuint  of  the  Capitol, 
■looping  futM'ard,  and  casting  stones  from  between  llieir  legi*.  The  Prator 
tekrd  if  he  had  anythinu  more  to  add  to  his  statement:  he  replied  in 
the  negative.  The  priwmerB  ivere  then  called  on  for  their  defence. 
FUkiaSf  who  WHS  the  spokesman  of  the  party,  Miid,  that  lie  and  his 
cmpanions  could  certainly  not  deny  the  fact ;  but  they  based  their 
defence  on  another  };rnund,  namely,  that  tlio  flinging  of  stones  at  that 
buur.  uod  for  tlie  purposes  which  they  had  in  view,  could  in  no  way  be 
cunatrued  into  a  statutable  oflence. 

"  PrciSiToa.  On  what  grounds  do  you  justify  it? 

**  FABfns.  It  can  scarcely  be  unknown  to  your  lordship  that  the 
Bonaa  name  ia  likely  to  i>erish  for  ever  from  the  face  of  the  earth. 

**  Pr  j^Tun.  Has  the  man  seen  a  Nymph  ? — What  has  this  to  do  with 
the  qcestion  in  hand  ? 

"  Kabius.  Everything,  O  judge  !  If  yuu  will  but  grant  me  a  patient 
bearing  I  mil  proceed  to  explain.  My  companions  and  I  were  trying, 
like  Deucalion  and  P^-rrha,  to  renew  the  human  race. 

"  The  Af agifitrate  was  here  about  to  address  the  prisoners  in  a  violent 
•trsin  of  invective,  for  daring  to  insult  the  bench  with  a  legend  which, 
in  hi*  idea,  had  never  existed ;  but  the  clerk  arose  from  his  seat,  and 
entreated  a  moment's  consultation  with  him.  In  a  few  minutes  he 
■foceeded.  *  I  cannot,  O  accu.scd,  deny  the  trnth  of  the  tale  which  you 
Dare  just  given  voice  to.  But  bv  your  conduct,  you  either  intended  to  call 
ike  poliev  of  the  government  in  question,  an  atfair  of  no  small  moment 
in  ft  a«wlr-born  city, — or^  taking  the  milder  viuw  of  the  question, — you 
WWlmll  Uiree  have  been  intoxicated  at  the  time.'  The  defendants  ad- 
■ittvcl  the  justice  of  the  remark. 

*•  pRJKTOR.  You,  then,  O  Kabius  and  Larlius,  I  fine  in  five  nxxe^  a- 
|iH<e,  or.  in  default  of  payment,  adjudge  you  to  a  fortni>'lit*s  hurd  labour 
at  the  ftlill.  Uut  oniMnnlius  rents  a  heavier  stain.  How  long,  O  Alanlius, 
vile  ibou  abuse  our  patience  P  How  long  shall  this  madness  of  thine 
ttaai|W  unpunished  }  When  will  this  unbridled  btddnesa  of  thine  come 
le  an  eod  ?  What^  then — does  not  the  watch  nightly  sit  at  the  Capi- 
tol ?  Dties  not  the  police  of  the  cily,^-doe«  not  the  fear  of  the  people, 
^dp  aut  the  devoted  meetings  of  the  sober  citizens,  —  does  not  this 
nn  spot  on  which  my  chair  rests,  guarded  as  it  is  by  an  elficient  police, 
^-oa  none,  I  say,  of  these  things  make  you  blush,  and  lose  your  counte- 
aaoce  ?— With  all  these  omens  about  you,  with  the  city  flonrisliing  as  it 
dtc%,  h»»  it  never  occurred  to  your  mind  that  you  are  ruining  yourcon- 
«Citol«m,  disgusting  your  friejids,  and  leading  vour  aasociates  to  de- 
eiracttna.  i  6ne  you  in  ten  aijies,  and,  in  default  of  payment,  adjudge  ' 
ywn  to  one  month's  hard  labour.  And  let  me  warn  you,  that  if  vou 
pBiiit  in  your  dissolute  course,  I  will  no  longer  permit  you  to  escape 
■f  die  payment  of  a  sum  of  money." 

Tlios  ends  this  interesting  trial.  I  may  perhaps,  if  this  paper  should 
attract  the  notice  which  from  these  valunble  extracts  it  deserves,  pro- 
ceed with  them,  befiire  laving  the  whole  in  a  more  compendious  form 
bcfenr  the  world.  For  the  mfonnation  of  the  curious,  I  may  as  well 
aentioa  that  the  MH.  alluded  to  is  nuiiked  H.  U.  M.  in  tlw  Corpus 
iabnry. 


THE  FALL  OF  THE  HOUSE  OF  USHER. 


Dunixo  the  whole  of  a  dull,  dark,  and  soundless  day  in  tbcl 
nuiitmn  of  the  year,  wlicn  the  cUmkU  hung^  opjjrcssively  low  in  the! 
heaverts,  I  had  been  pa&sing  alone,  un  horseback,  tlirou(|;h  a  Biii^ulor- 
ly  dreary  tract  of  country;  iind  nt  length  found  myself  as  tlie  shades] 
of  the  evening  drew  on  within  view  of  the  melancholy  House  ofl 
Usher.  I  know  nut  how  it  was — but,  wiU»  the  first  glimpse  of  the  < 
building  a  sense  of  tnsuflerable  gloom  pervaded  my  spirit.  I  say  in- 
superable ;  for  the  feeling  wus  unrelieved  by  any  of  that  halt-plea- 
Burablc,  because  poetic,  sentiment,  with  which  the  mind  usually  re- 
ceives even  the  sternest  natural  images  of  the  desolate  or  terrible. 
I  looked  upon  the  «cene  before  me  —  upon  the  mere  house,  and  the 
bimple  lanilscaj>c  features  of  the  domain—  upon  the  bleak  walls ^ 
upon  the  vacant  eye-like  windows  —  ufjon  a  few  rank  Hedges  —  and 
upon  a  few  white  trunks  of  decayed  trees— with  an  utter  depression 
of  soul,  which  I  can  compare  to  no  earthly  sensation  more  properly 
than  to  the  after-dream  of  the  reveller  upon  opium — the  bitter  lapie 
into  common  life — the  hideous  dropping  off  of  the  veil.  There  was 
an  iciness,  a  Kinking,  a  sickening  of  the  heart, — an  unredeemed  drear- 
iness of  thought,  which  no  goading  af  the  imaginiilion  could  tor- 
ture into  augnt  of  the  sublime.  What  Mas  it — I  paused  to  think — 
what  was  it  that  so  unnerved  me  in  the  conteniplalion  of  the  Hi>u8e 
of  Ifsher.^  It  was  a  mystery  all  iiiMiluble;  nor  could  I  Qrapple 
with  the  shadowy  fancies  that  crowde<l  upon  me  an  I  pondered.  I 
WHS  forcetl  to  fall  back  upon  the  unsatisfactory  conclusion,  that 
while,  beyond  doubt,  there  arr  combinations  of  very  simple  natural 
objects  whit'])  have  the  power  of  thus  atfecting  us,  still  the  reiuon 
and  the  analysis  of  this  power  lie  among  conMuerstions  beyond  our 
de|)th.  It  was  poKsible,  I  reflectedj  that  a  mere  diflerent  arrange- 
ment of  the  particulars  of  the  scene,  of  the  details  of  the  pictur^j 
would  be  sufficient  to  mo<]ify,  or  perhaps  to  annihilate  its  capacitj 
for  sorrowful  inipreiisinn ;  and,  acting  upon  thjt  idea,  I  reined  mj 
horise  to  the  precipitous  brink  of  a  black  and  lurid  torn,  that  lay  in 
tiiirufflcd  lustre  by  the  dwelling,  and  gazed  down — but  with  a  sfaud 
der  even  more  thrilling  than  before-^  upon  the  re-modelled  and  in 
verted  images  of  the  grey  sedge^  and  the  ghastly  tree-stems,  and 
the  vacant  and  eye-like  windows. 
Nevertheless,  in  tliis  mansion  of  gloom  I  now  proposed  to  mysrlj 
•  a  iwjourn  of  home  weeks.  Its  pruprietor,  iiuderick  Usher,  had  be 
one  of  my  boon  companions  in  boyhood ;  but  mnnv  veara  hnij 
elapsed  since  our  last  meeling.  A  letter,  however,  hod  Intel'v  reache<j 
me  in  a  flistaiit  ]mrt  of  the  country  —  a  letter  from  him  —  which,  in 
its  wildly  importunate  nature,  ha^  uthnitted  of  no  other  than  a  per- 
Bonal  reply.  The  filS.  gave  evidence  of  nervous  agitation.  The 
writer  stKike  <if  acute  bodily  illness;  of  a  pitiable  mental  idiosyn- 
crasy wliich  oppressed  him  ;  and  of  an  earnest  dehire  to  see  me,  as 
his  best,  and  indeed  his  only  personal  friend,  with  a  view  of  attempt- 
ing, by  the  cheerfulness  of  my  society,  some  alleviation  of  his  ma- 
lady. It  was  the  manner  in  which  all  this,  and  much  more,  was 
said — it  was  the  apparent  heart  tJiat  went  with  his  request — which 


THE    FALL   OF   TUP.    UOUSE   OF   USHER. 


\oO 


•llowed  me  no  roooi  for  hesitation,  and  I  accordingly  obeyed  vhat  I 
still  considered  a  very  siiif;ular  summons  forthwith. 

Although  as  boys  we  hod  been  even  intimate  associates,  yet  I 
really  knew  little  of  my  friend.  His  reserve  had  been  always  ex- 
reuive  and  habitual.  I  was  aware,  however,  that  lu's  very  ancient 
lainily  had  been  noted,  time  out  of  mind,  for  a  peculiar  sensibility 
of  tempenunent,  di&playing  itself  through  lonj^  ages  in  many  works 
of  exalted  art,  and  manifested  of  late  in  repeated  deeds  of  munificent 
^ct  unobtrusive  charity^  am  well  as  in  a  passifinate  devotion  to  the 
mtricacie^j  iMrrhaps  even  more  than  to  the  orthodox  and  easily  re- 
cognisable beauties  uf  musical  science.  I  have  learned,  too,  the 
ireiy  remarkable  fact  that  the  stem  of  the  Usher  race,  all  time- 
honoured  as  it  was,  had  put  forth  at  no  period  any  enduring 
branch  ;  in  other  words,  that  the  entire  family  lay  in  the  direct  line 
of  descent,  and  had  always,  with  very  ti*ifling  and  very  temporary 
variatioa,  so  lain.  It  was  this  deficiency,  I  considered,  while  run- 
ning over  in  thought  the  perfect  keeping  of  the  character  of  the 
premises  with  the  accrcditc<l  character  of  the  people,  and  while  spe- 
cuUling  upon  the  possible  influence  which  the  one  in  the  long  lapse 
of  centuries  might  have  exercised  upon  the  other  — it  was  this  defi- 
ciency, perliapa,  of  collateral  issue,  and  the  consequent  undeviating 
transmission  from  sire  to  son  of  the  patrimony  with  the  name,  which 
bad  at  length  so  identified  the  two  its  to  merge  the  original  title  of 
tbecfftate  in  the  quaint  and  etiuivocal  appellation  of  the  "  House  of 
Usbo',"  — an  appellation  which  seemetl  to  include  in  the  minds  of 
ibcpesaantry  who  used  it  both  the  f'iuiiily  and  the  family  mansion. 

1  Dave  said  that  the  sole  effect  uf  my  somewhat  childish  experi- 
ment of  looking  doMD  within  the  tarn  had  been  to  deepen  the  first 
singular  impression.  There  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  consciousness 
of  ue  rapiil  increase  of  my  superstition  —  for  why  should  1  not  so 
ttrin  it?  — served  mainly  to  accelerate  tlie  increase  itself.  Such,  1 
bare  long  known,  is  the  paradoxical  law  of  all  eentimcnts  having 
terror  as  m  basis.  And  it  might  have  been  for  this  reason  only,  that 
vbeD  I  again  uplifted  my  eyes  to  the  house  itself,  from  its  image  in 
the  pool,  there  grew  in  my  mind  a  strange  fancy  —  a  fancy  so  riiH- 
Cldouf,  indeed,  that  I  but  mention  it  to  show  the  vivid  force  of  the 
wasatSons  which  oppressed  me.  I  had  so  worked  uj>on  my  imngin- 
■Kion  as  really  to  believe  that  around  about  the  whole  mansion  and 
donain  there  hung  an  atmosphere  peculiar  to  themselves  and  their 
immediiite  vicinity  — an  atmosphere  which  had  no  afBnity  witli  the 
sir  of  heaven,  but  which  had  reeked  up  fmni  the  decayed  tree»,  and 
the  grry  wall,  and  the  silent  tarn,  in  the  form  of  an  inelastic  vapour 
or  gaa,  dull,  sluggish,  faintly  discernible,  and  leaden-hued.  Shaking 
off  from  my  spirit  wh.tt  muMt  have  been  a  dream,  I  bcannetl  mure 
oarruwly  the  real  aspect  of  tlie  building.  Its  principal  feature 
•fcmed  to  be  that  of  an  excesaive  antiquity.  The  discoloration  of 
■gH  had  been  great.  Alinute  fungi  overspread  the  whole  exterior, 
hnging  in  a  fine  unglcd  web-work  from  the  eaves.  Yet  all  this 
VM  apart  from  any  extraordinary  dilapidation.  No  portion  of  the 
BUMnr}'  had  fallen;  and  there  appeared  to  be  a  wild  inconsistency 
between  its  still  perfect  adaptation  of  part9,  and  the  utterly  porous  and 
nridently  decayed  condition  oi' the  individual  stones.  In  this  there 
was  much  that  reniiiiilcd  me  of  the  specious  totality  M'  old  wood- 
work, which  has  rotted  for  long  years  in  some  neglected  vault,  with 


ICO 


TIIK    FALL   OF   THE    HOUSE    OF   U8HKR. 


no  disturbance  from  the  breath  of  the  external  air.  Beyond  tliis  in. 
dication  at' extensive  decay,  however,  the  fabric  gave  bttle  token  of 
instability.  Perhaps  the  eye  of  fl  scrutinizing  observer  niifi;ht  have 
di&c<ivered  a  barely  perceptible  fissure,  which,  extending  from  the 
r<K»f  of  the  building  in  front,  made  its  way  down  the  wall  in  a  xig- 
zAff  direction,  until  it  became  lost  in  the  sullen  water*  of  the  tarn. 

Noticing  these  things  1  rode  over  a  short  cHUJ«.'way  to  the  house. 
A  servant  in  wailing  took  n»v  horse,  and  1  entered  the  Gothic  arch- 
way ot'  the  hall.  A  valet  of'  ste.ihhy  step  thence  cnmhicted  tne  in 
bilence  through  many  dnrk  and  iiitricflte  passages  in  my  progpeai  to 
the  ttHftio  of  his  master.  Aluch  tltat  1  encountered  on  the  way 
contributed,  I  know  not  how,  to  heighten  the  vague  sentiment*  of 
which  I  have  already  spoken.  While  the  objects  around  me — while 
the  carvings  of  the  cellingj*,  the  sombre  tapestries  of  the  walls,  the 
ebon  bliicknegs  of  the  floors,  and  ihc  phantasmagoric  armorial  tro- 
phies, wtn'cli  rattled  m  I  strode,  were  but  inalters  to  which,  or  to 
auch  as  which  1  had  l>een  accustomed  from  my  infancy.  While  I 
hesitated  ni»t  to  acknowledge  how  familiar  was  all  this,  1  still  won- 
dered to  find  how  unfamiliar  were  the  fancies  which  ordinary  image* 
were  stirring  up,  On  one  of  the  staircases  I  met  the  physician  of 
the  family.  Iliscountcnance,  1  thought,  wore  a  mingled  expression 
of  low  cunning  and  perplexity.  He  accosted  ine  with  trepidation. 
nnd  passed  on.  I'he  valet  now  threw  open  a  door,  and  ushered  me 
into  the  presence  of  his  master. 

The  room  in  which  I  found  myself  was  very  large,  am]  exces- 
sively lofty.  The  windows  were  long,  narrow,  anti  pointed,  and  at 
BO  vast  a  distance  from  the  black  oaken  floor  ns  to  be  altogether  in- 
accessible from  within.  Feeble  gleaniR  of  encrinisoned  light  made 
their  way  through  the  trelliced  panes,  and  served  to  render  suffi- 
ciently distinct  the  more  prominent  objects  around.  The  eye,  how- 
ever, struggled  in  vuin  to  reach  the  remoter  angles  of  the  chamber, 
or  the  recesses  of  the  vaulted  and  fretted  ceiling.  Dark  draperies 
hung  upon  the  walls.  The  general  furniture  was  profuse,  comfort- 
less, antique,  and  tattered.  Alany  books  and  musical  instruments 
lay  scalteretl  about,  but  failed  to  give  any  viudity  to  tJie  scene.  I 
felt  that  I  lireathed  an  atntnjiiphere  of  sorrow.  An  air  of  stern,  deep, 
and  irredeemable  gloom  hung  over,  and  |>crvaded  all. 

1-Jpon  my  entrance  Usher  arose  from  a  sofa  upon  which  he  had 
been  lying  at  full  length,  and  greeted  me  with  a  vivacious  warmth, 
which  had  much  in  it.  I  nt  fir»t  thought  of  an  overdone  cordiality 
—  of  the  constrainerl  effort  of  the  ennutff  man  of  the  world.  A 
glance,  however,  ut  his  countenance  convinced  me  of  his  j>crfect 
sincerity.  We  sat  down  ;  and  for  aomc  moments,  while  he  spoke 
not,  I  gazed  upon  him  with  a  feebng  half  of  pity,  half  of  awe. 
Surely  man  had  never  before  so  terribly  alured  in  so  brief  a  period 
as  had  Roderick  Usher  f  It  was  with  difficulty  that  I  could  bring 
myself  to  admit  the  identity  of  the  wan  being  before  me  with  the 
companion  of  my  early  boyhood.  Yet  the  character  of  his  face  had 
been  at  all  times  remarkable.  A  cadaverousness  of  complexion ; 
an  eye  large,  liquid,  and  luminous  beyond  comp.irison ;  lips  some- 
what thin,  and  very  pallid,  hut  of  a  Hur|>asfiingly  beautiful  curve  ;  n 
nose  of  a  delicate  Hebrew  model,  but  with  a  breadth  of  nostril 
unusual  in  similar  formations;  a  finely-moulded  chin,  speaking,  in 
ill)  want  of  prominence,  ol  a  want  of  moral  energy  ;  hair  of  a  more 


OF    THE    HOUSE    OF    USHER. 


■'  tfiMiity ;  the«e  features,  with  an  inor- 

r;>ions  of  the  temple,  made  up  alto^' 

.atitylt)  be  forgotten.     And  now,  in   the 

-  prevailing  cliaructer  of  theae  features,  and 

Lie  wont  to  convey,  lay  so  much  of  change 

I    I   spuke.     The  now  ghastly  pallor  of  tne 

I  irsf    miraculous  lustre  of  the  eye^  above  all  things 

II  nwed  me.     The  silken  hair,  too,  had  been  ttuffered 
All  uiihetftled.  and  88  in  its  wild  gosEumer  texture  it  floated 

Ht»u  fell  nbi>ut  the  face,  I  could  not  even  with  effort  connect 

[|ue  expression  with  any  idea  of  simply  humanity, 
lie  manner  of  my  friend  1  wait  at  once  struck  with  an  inco- 
ncT — an  inconsistency ;  and  I  soon  found  this  to  arise  from  a 

lo  of  feeble  and  futile  struggles  to  overcome  an  habitual  tre- 
]»(iiancv,  an  excewive  nervous  ngitjition.  For  something  of  tliis  na- 
t«r<  1  had  indeed  been  prepare<l,  no  less  by  his  letter  than  by  remt- 
uuurence»  of  certain  boyish  traits,  and  by  conclusions  deduced  from 
hu  [Mculiar  physical  conformation  and  temperament.  His  action 
va*  allematrly  vivacious  and  sullen.  Ili^t  voice  varied  rapidly  from 
a  Insnoloufl  indecision  (when  the  animal  spirits  seemed  utterly  in 
abeyance)  to  that  species  of  energetic  concision  —  that  abrupt, 
««igbty>  unhurried,  an<l  hollow-sounding  enunciation — that  leaden, 
«U-baUnced,  and  ]>erfectly  modulated  guttural  utterance,  which 
may  be  obnerved  in  the  moments  of  the  intense^t  excitement  of  the 
leat  drunkard,  or  tlie  irreclaimable  cater  of  opium. 

It  was  thus  that  he  spoke  of  the  object  of  my  visit,  of  his  earnest 
desire  lo  see  me,  and  of  the  solace  he  expected  me  to  afford  him. 
He  entered  at  some  length  into  what  he  conceive<l  to  be  the  nature 
«f  hU  nittlady.  it  was,  he  said,  a  constitutional  and  a  family  evil, 
■nd  one  for  which  he  despaired  to  find  a  remedy  — a  mere  nervous 
aflbction,  he  tmme<liately  added,  which  would  undoulitedly  soon 
paaa  off.  It  displayed  itself  in  a  host  of  unnatural  M-n^tions.  Some 
«rtlicM>«  as  he  deuiled  them,  interested  and  bewildered  me, — al- 
tboogh,  perhaps,  the  ierm$,  and  the  general  manner  of  the  narration 
had  uieir  weight.  He  suffered  much  from  a  morbid  acutencRS  of 
the  lenwa ;  tlie  most  insipid  food  was  alone  endurable ;  he  could 
wear  onlr  garments  of  certain  texture;  the  odours  of  all  fl<iwers  were 
enprcadve  ;  bis  eyei  were  tortured  by  even  a  faint  light ;  and  there 
were  bat  peculiar  sounds,  and  these  from  stringed  instruments, 
which  did  not  inspire  him  with  horror. 

To  an  anomalous  species  of  terror  1  found  him  a  bounden  slave. 
"I  shall  neriiih,"  said  he,  "I  mwW  perish  in  this  deplorable  folly. 
Thus  —  tj)u»,  and  not  otherwise,  shall  I  be  losL  I  dread  the  events 
■f  the  future,  not  in  themselves,  but  in  their  results.  I  shudder  at 
the  thought  of  any,  even  the  most  trivial  incident,  which  may  ope- 
rate upon  this  intolerable  agitation  uf  soul.  1  have,  indeed,  no  ab- 
bomacc  of  liangcr,  except  in  its  absolute  effect — in  terror.  In  this 
mmmrwmi — in  this  pitiable  comlition — 1  feel  that  I  must  inevitably 
abandon  life  and  reason  together  in  my  struggles  with  some  fatal 
demon  of  fear." 

1  teamed,  moreover,  at  intervals,  and  through  broken  and  cquivo. 
cal  hinta,  another  singular  feature  of  his  mental  condition.  He  was 
enchairiMl  by  rrrlain  luptTstitious  iuiprcAiiions  in  regard  to  the 
dwcUiog  which  he  tenanted,  and  from  which  for  many  years  he  luul 


PF    USBBR. 


tmiaeace  wluce  sapponititia 

J  here  to  be  restiOcd- 

»  the  mere  £orm  and  sut 

oT  long  «B&K^Ke,  he  aoid,  ub- 

1  the  fitywyc  of  the  grey  walls 

i.  JBlo  which  dwr  ^  looked  down, 

t  the  morale  of  dm  existence. 

1  with  hesiution,  that  much  of  the 

him  coiUd  be  traced  to  a  more 

^  J--—  -jrigin ;  to  tlie  serere  and  long-ooo- 

^^v^jK  «rident1y  approaching  dis&ulutioa  of  a 

.^  itt»  "Milp  companion  for  lone  yearn  ;  his  Uit 

^ttatltk.    Uer  decease,  he  said,  with  a  bitter- 

,  would  leave  him  (him   the  hopeless 

if  ^  ancient  race  of  the  Ufthers.     As  1^^ 

«  (,for  BO  was  she  called)  passed  slow^^f 

■a  uf  the  a])urtinent,  and,  without  having 

appeared.     I   regarded  her  with  an   utter 

with  dread.     Jier  figure,  her  air,  her 

;ute«t  clevtioijeineni  were  those — were 

J  utht'f  sufficient  term,)  were  identically 

■■KT  who  8iit  beiiide  me.   A  feeling  of  stupor 

-  ;'t>iluwed  her  retreating  steps.     As  a  door 

.1    exit,  my  glance  liought  instinctively  and 

...MM  ut  the  brother;  but  he  had  buried  his  face 

..^Mtd  only  perceive  that  a  fur  more  'than  or- 

^    vvcr»pread   the   emaciated   fingers,    through 

mMMonate  tears. 

'..Mix  Madeline  had  long  baflled  the  skill  of  her 

ji«  l^Mthy,  a  gradual  WR»iing  away  of  the  per- 

:iiiMarfa  transient  af1ectiun»  of  a  partially  cata- 

.««  the  unusual  diagnosis.     Hitherto  she  had 

■  jml  the  pressure  of  her  malady^  itnd  had  not 

^'  bed  ;  but>  on  the  closing  in  of  tlie  evening 

^  -c.  she  succumbed,  as  her  brother  told  me  at 

.-. --L'.    agitation,  to  the  prostrating  power  of  the 

«  >^xL  ihal  the  glimpse  1  had  obtained  of  her  pet- 

^mMJt  be  the  lost  I  should  obtain  ;  tliat  the  lady, 

-«uMld  be  seen  by  mc  no  more. 

tikUiuK  ber  name  was  unmentioned  by  either 

U,  Juring  thiR  periwl  I  was  buried  in  eamoit 

-n    the  melancholy  of  my  friend.     We  juiinted 

i>icned>  as  if  in  a  dream,  to  the  wild  ixnpro- 

ijii^  guitar.     And  thus,  as  a  closer  and  still 

mU  me  more  unreservedly  into  the  recesses  of 

,  .!ul  1  perceive  the  futility  of  all  attempt 

...  vivi'li  darknctm,  as  if  an  inherent  |H)siLive 

h  «y^t  all  objects  of  the  moral  and  physical 

1^  ndiation  of  gloom. 

,  ^MH  oe  a  mcuKiry  of  the  many  solemn  hours  1 
%^  1^  master  ol  the  House  of  Usher.  Yet  I 
^gMK  to  convey  an  idea  of  the  exact  character 
^-'^^  ^f^Huations  in  which  he  involved  me,  or  led 


THE   PALL   OF   THE    HOUSE    OP   USUER. 


16a 


me  ihc  way.  An  excited  ant]  highly  distempered  ideality  threw  a 
•nlphureous  lustre  over  all.  His  lunfr  improvised  dirges  will  ring 
for  ever  in  my  ears.  Amung  other  things,  I  bear  painfully  in  mind 
a  certJiin  ftinpiilnr  pervrrxion  and  ampliflcation  nftnc  wild  air  uf  the 
hal  waits  of  Von  VVeber.  Krom  the  paintings  over  which  his  elabo- 
rate fancy  brooded,  and  which, grew  tonch  by  touch  into  vague- 
nesse*,  'it  which  I  shuddered  the  more  thriUin^ly,  liecause  I  shudder- 
ed knowing  not  why  —  frnni  these  paintinip;  (vivid  as  their  images 
now  are  before  me)  I  would  in  vnin  endeavour  to  educe  more  than  a 
■Bu])  portion,  which  should  lie  within  the  compass  of  merely  writ- 
tra  wordft.  By  the  utter  simplicity,  by  the  nakedness  of  hi«  de- 
aigru,  he  arrested  mid  overawed  attention.  If  ever  mortal  painted 
an  idea,  that  murLiI  was  Roderick  Usher.  For  mc,  at  Icaiit,  in  the 
circa mstances  then  rsurrounding  me,  there  arose  out  of  the  pure  abs- 
Iractiufiii  which  the  hypociiorulriac  contrived  to  throw  upon  bis 
eui«aii9.  an  intensity  of  intolerable  awe,  no  shadow  of  M-hich  felt  I 
ever  yet  in  the  contemplation  of  the  certainly  glowing,  yet  too  con- 
crete reveries  of  Fuseli. 

One  of  the  phantasmagoric  conceptions  of  my  friend,  partaking 
Bat  so  rigidly  of  the  spirit  of  abstraction,  may  bo  uhadowed  forth, 
^though  feebly,  in  words.  A  small  picture  presented  the  interior 
ti  an  immensely  long  and  rectangular  vault  or  tunnel,  with  low 
vatU,  »TOooth,  white,  and  without  interruption  or  device.  Certain 
itf  rT'*^ry  points  of  the  dcisign  served  well  to  convey  the  idea  that 
th£a  exi:avotion  lay  at  an  exceeding  depth  below  the  surface  of  the 
earth.  Ho  outlet  was  observed  in  any  portion  of  its  vast  extent,  and 
no  torch,  or  other  artificial  source  of  light,  was  discernible  —  yet  a 
flood  of  intense  rays  rolled  throughout,  and  bathed  the  whole  in  a 
Jy  and  inappropriate  spU'iulour. 
i  1  have  just  spikcn  of  that  morbid  condition  of  the  auditory  nerve 
_rtklch  rendered  all  music  intolerable  to  the  stiflerer,  with  the  ex- 
wption  of  certain  efiecln  of  stringed  instruments.  U  was,  perhaps, 
tlw  uarrow  llinit.s  to  which  he  thus  confined  himself  upon  the  guitar, 
vhicb  g»ve  birth,  in  great  meaiure,  to  the  fantastic  character  of  his 
BcHbrniBnces.  But  the  ierv\d  /'aiililt/  of  his  impromptus  could  not 
fir  Ml  accounted  for  :  they  must  have  been,  and  were  in  the  notes, 
a*  well  as  in  the  words  of  his  wild  fantasias,  (for  he  not  unfrcquent- 
tjr  Accompanied  himself  with  rhymed  verbal  improvisations,)  the 
reaalc  of  that  intense  mental  collectedness  and  concentration  to 
vliich  1  have  previously  alluded  as  observable  only  in  {utrticular 
■raiBents  of  the  highest  artificial  excitement.  The  words  of  one  of 
ibcae  rhaps<idies  I  have  easily  borne  away  in  memory.  I  was,  per- 
haps, the  more  forcibly  impressed  with  it  as  he  gave  it ;  because  in 
the  nnder  or  mystic  current  of  iu  meaning  I  fancied  that  I  per- 
ceived, and  fur  the  fir»t  time,  a  full  consciousness  on  the  part  of 
Utber,  of  the  tottering  of  his  lofty  reason  upon  her  tlirone.  The 
terse*,  which  were  entitled  "The  Haunted  Palace,"  ran  very  near- 
ly, if  not  accurately,  thus : — 


Id  ihc  smncft  of  our  valleys^ 

Dy  kmkJ  aiigrls  ieii»iittd, 
Otici;  n  Oir  mid  itLuely  palace— 

Siiow-whiic  palace — roared  its  lictid. 


'    nc'  wn;se  of  dsbek. 

■  I'tiM^ri  domiDion — 


i*.  .w^iK.  :«■<  ai>  air. 

It. 
'.  ^torioiu,  golden, 
.  .^  «u«M  •liti  dou  and  flow ; 
a  in  tbe  olden 


.u  '.;««*}  OifiU^  ^r  that  dallied, 

.  ujMi  a«M«et  day, 
'.-bih  Lilt!  nunptirts  plumed  and  pallid, 
>.  --^lui^'U  odour  went  away. 

III. 
\  auuerers  Id  that  happy  valley 

I'hruugh  two  luminous  windows  saw 
"tiiiiu  moving  musically 

To  n  lute's  well-iun^d  law, 
Ltouud  about  a  throne,  where  sitting 

['orphyrogene !) 
Ill  aiiite  his  glory  well -befitting, 
'l*he  sorereigo  of  the  realm  was  seen. 

IV. 

Vut^tl  with  pearl  and  ruby  glowing 

^V;is  the  fiiir  palace  door, 
!  hcwuiib  which  came  flowing,  flowing,  flowing, 

.Viiu  sparkling  evermore, 

V  iv^p  of  Kcboes  whose  sweet  duty 
VS  AS  but  to  sing, 

ti  ^iMC«s  of  surp^sing  beauty, 
'.'!i«  wit  and  wisdom  of  their  king. 

V. 

<*,;  evil  things,  in  robes  of  sorrow, 

\.xsul'd  the  monarch's  high  estate; 
lj)«  Itft  us  mourn,  for  never  morrow 

SmU  dawn  upon  him,  desolate!) 
iiHi,  n.>und  about  his  home,  the  glory 

■.Sat  blush 'd  and  bloom'd 
X  Xkt  d  dim-remcmber'd  story 

v^tlie  old  time  eniomb'd. 

vr. 
\pii  irav«llers  now  within  tliat  valley, 

I'StiMHih  the  red-Iitten  windows,  see 
\  k34  Knius  that  move  fantastically 

Vo  a  discordant  melody ; 
\^^ic,  liktf  a  rapid  ghastly  river, 

I'^tv'mch  the  pale  door, 

V  \iu«ous  throng  rush  out  for  ever, 
AiM  lau$l>t — ^^^  smile  no  more. 

.;  -x•»»cm^«'  '*>•'  suggeations  arising  from  this  ballad  led  us 

»*«in  .»i'  thiHUfht.  wherein  there  became  manifest  an  opinion 

hich  1  Hieiilion  not  so  much  on  account  of  its  novelty, 

»u  h*vf  thought  thus,)  as  on  account  of  the  pertinacity 


THE   FALL  OF   TlIK    IIOUSi:   OF  USllEK. 


1G5 


with  which  he  maintained  it.  This  opinion,  in  its  penera)  form,  was 
that  of  thv  sentience  of  all  vegetable  thin^.  But,  in  Iija  disordered 
fancy,  the  idea  hail  a.s«unied  u  inure  darinj;  character,  and  tre^|Mssed, 
ander  certain  conditions,  upon  the  kingdom  of  inor^rHiiixalion.  I 
bck  words  to  express  the  full  extent,  or  the  earnest  abandon  of  his 
persiuuion.  The  belief,  however,  was  connected  (as  I  have  previ- 
ottsly  hinted)  wirh  the  frrcy  stones  of  the  home  of  liis  forefathers. 
The  conditions  of  the  Mintience  had  been  here,  he  imagined,  fulfilled 
in  the  metluKl  of  collocation  of  tliL'se  stones, —  in  the  order  of  their 
arrangement,  n»  well  as  in  tliat  of  the  many  fun(;i  which  oversprratl 
ihcm,  and  of  the  decaye<I  trees  which  stood  around,  —  above  all,  in 
tile  long-undisturbed  endurance  of  this  arrangement,  itnd  in  its  re> 
duplication  in  the  still  waters  of  the  turn.  Its  evidence  —  the  evi- 
dence of  the  sentience— was  to  be  seen,  he  said,  (and  I  here  started 
M»  be  spoke,)  in  the  sradNot  tfel  ci-rtuin  ruudrnxalivn  of  an  atmwinhcre 
•f  iheir  om-H  afntut  tfic  tvolrrs  and  ike  walls.  The  result  was  disco- 
Ter«l>lc,  he  addeil,  in  that  silent,  yet  importunate  and  terrible  influ- 
cncc,  which  for  centuries  had  moulded  the  destinies  of  his  family, 
•imI  which  made  liim  what  I  now  s/iw  him  —  what  he  wns.  Such 
opinioM-t  need  no  comment,  and  I  w*)ll  mnke  none. 

Our  books — the  books  which,  for  years,  had  formed  no  Dmall  por- 
tioo  of  the  mental  existence  of  tlic  invalid — were,  as  might  be  sup- 
poaed,  in  strict  keeping  with  this  character  of  phantasm.  \Ve  pored 
tii^etbcr  over  fuch  works  as  the  Ververt  et  Chartreui<e  of  Gresset; 
th«  Belphegor  o^  MachiavelU  ;  the  Selenoj^raphy  of  Brewster  ;  the 
BcttTcn  and  Hell  of  8u  edeiiborg  ;  the  Subterr.inean  V'ovage  of  Ni- 
dwlM  Klimni  de  H.ilber^f  ;  the  Chiromancy  of  Robert  Flud,  of  Jean 
d'indigine.  and  of  De  la  Chambre ;  the  Journey  into  the  Blue  Dis- 
tmce  of  Tieck  ;  and  the  City  of  the  Sun  of  L'ampanella.  One  fa- 
vourite volume  WAS  a  small  octavo  edition  of  the  Directorium  Intpit- 
sflorium,  by  the  Dominican  Kynicric  iXc  Gironnc ;  and  there  were 
MMajfca  in  Pomuonius  Mela,  about  the  old  African  Satyrs  and 
fX^^rpam,  over  which  Usher  would  sit  dreaming  for  hours.  His 
chief  delight,  however,  was  found  in  the  earnest  and  repeated  per- 
a«al  of  an  exceedingly  rare  and  curious  book  in  quarto  Gothic — the 
■wnoal  of  a  forgntten  church — the  "  Vigilist  i^lortuorum  secundum 
Chorum  Kcclesis  Maguntinie." 

I  could  not  help  thinking  of  tlie  wild  ritual  of  this  work,  and  of 
its  prubable  influence  upon  the  hypochondriac,  wlicn  one  evening, 
having  informed  me  abruptly  that  the  Lady  Madeline  was  no  more, 
hectjiced  his  intention  of  preserving  her  corpse  for  a  fortnight  (pre- 
vioaaljr  to  its  final  interment)  in  one  of  the  numerous  vaults  within 
the  main  walls  of  the  building.  The  worldly  reason,  however, 
a^ifcnrd  for  tbii  singular  proceeding  was  one  which  I  did  not  feel 
sliiberty  to  dinpute.  The  brother  had  been  led  to  this  resolution 
(m  be  told  me)  by  considerations  of  the  unusual  character  of  the 
BBsUdy  of  the  deceased,  of  certain  obtrusive  and  eager  intpiiries  on 
the  p«rt  of  her  medical  men,  an<l  of  the  remote  and  exposed  situation 
of  tlie  huriaUground  of  the  family.  I  will  not  deny  that,  when  J 
called  Id  mind  the  siuioter  countenance  of  the  i>ers<'n  whom  I  met 
tip'm  the  etaircaM.'  on  the  day  of  my  arrival  at  the  house,  I  had  no 
<lrftin>  to  oppotie  whnt  1  regarded  as  at  best  but  a  luirmlcss,  and  not 
by  any  means  an  unnatural,  nrecaution. 

At  the  rrqnnrt  of  Utther,  1  persnnnlly  aided  him  in  the  nrrAnge- 


UH 


THE    FALL    OF   THE    HOUSK    OF    USII' 


III  ihc-  iiimiiirch  Tliouglii's  doiiiiiiioii — 

It  stuoil  ilieix-! 
Never  seraph  spread  a  pinion 

Over  f;ibric  lialf  so  fair. 


I 

iiii- 
f.l" 


Kamiffrs  yellow,  glorious,  goldt'ii, 

till  its  roof  did  float  and  Hnw  ; 
(Tliis— all  this— was  in  the  oldt-i 

Time  long  ago) 
And  t!v«ry  guiitle  air  that  dall. 

Ill  thitt  sueet  day. 
Along  the  ramparts  pliitnr-l 

A  wing'd  odour  went  uv 


III. 

Wanderers  in  that  hiii'i'- 

Tliroiijjh  two  lumi' 
Spirits  moving  mtiMr.' 

To  a  lute's  well-t'.; 
Hound  aliout  a  ttirt-i.- 

(I'orphjrn^eiir!. 
Ill  Miiti:  Ink  ti,h-T\ 

The  sovc'iuj;;!! 


'.  ■.■!l 

:    Ml. 

■  V.  I  irst 

'!    iti'jiri^it 

■  pitrtiou   of 

..jU  which  we 

'I'llf    dllOT,    of 

Its   immense 
it  moved  upon 


AmlnM  with  pi 
W  :is  till-  f.!M 

Throiii;!]  w\,:i.  .1 
/\iid  -ij'ii.; 

A  tiiiiip  1-f  !  . 
\\;.s  ):■•  ■ 

Itl   V.iUf^  ■   ' 

Ti..   w  ■ 


■  >ii  tressels  ■within  this 

.'  yt't  unscrewed  lid  of 

t.  iiant.     The  exact  sinii- 

.  liorc  again  startled  anil 

•  w.y  thoughts,  murmured 

I'd  that  the  deceased  anil 

.ics  of  a  scarcely  intellij^ihlc 

.-in.    Our  glances,  however, 

.ould  not  regard  her  unawed. 

.  the  lady  in  the  maturity  of 

.>  of  a  strictly  catitleptical  cha- 

.•  upon  the  bosom  nnd  the  face, 

.'  upon  the  lip  which  is  so  ter- 

,«vretl  down  the  lid  ;  and,  having 

-  way  with  toil  into  the  scarcely 

.,-  portion  of  the  house. 

;-ft'liiivinf;  elapsed,  an  observable 

H„i  .  _      ■ -e  mental  disorder  of  my  friend. 

\  ^^.^    His  ordinary  occiipatiuns  were 

i,\:  .^^-cfrom  chamber  tci  chamber  with 

^'  ^  ^p.   The  pallor  of  his  countenance 

■^'  *'  _  ;>astl_v  hue;  but  the  luminou>ness 

'  _,    The  once  occasional  hufskinetiii  of 

'  _  _-u  a  tremulous  tpiaver,  as  if  of  ex- 

'  _  ^■o.-H^t'd  his  utterance.     There  were 

".•(  M^  unceasingly  ngitated  inind  was 

"~"^vT»"l.  to  divulge  wliich  he  struggled 

"*  ,  r  "»•*.  again,  I  was  oblipeil  to  resolve 

•  ^"    ..-  -ijAries  of  madiie>>,  ;is  1  beheld  hiui 

"■*''^.  hours  in   an  attitude  of  the  pro- 

..     '\.  -^tt>  some  iiiiagiiiary  sound.     It  was 

-     ^'  ^-lietl.  —  that  it  infictcd  nie.     I  felt 

.  -."■"*'     ..  ^vrtain  di-crtes,  the  wild  influences 

'   '*'',„jji,e  sttiK'rstitions. 

,^-     .  ■'"  J  v^riug  l»  bt'd  lati'  in  the  night  of  the 

^t.  •     "^.^  pljifiitg  ofthe  I^ady  Madeline  within 

'**^  'i  ,y  t'ull  power  oi*  j^iifli  ('celiiigs.    Slei'p 


_.*•"'*'" 


.»>'^'^'-.. ,  \\\v  hiiurs  wiuu'tl  ami  waned  away- 
,1 ..  »V'''*'  w  i^rvi'us"t.>-s  which  had  dominion  over 


I.J.  or  THE    HOUSE    OF   08HBR.  167 

.•>rv<l  to  believe  that  much,  if  not  all,  of  what  I  felt, 

;DLunugDric  influence  of  the  gloomy  furniture  of 

'i^^k  and  tattered  (Iraperies,  whicli,  tortured  into 

-f  a  rising  tempest,  swn>-cd  fitfully  to  and  fro 

'  <a   ni&tled  uneasily  about  the  decorations  of  the 

i  >TiA  were  fruitless.     An  irrepres*tible  tremor  (jra- 

lay  frame,  and  at  length  there  sat  upon  my  very 

if  utterly  caustless  alarm.     Shaking  tliix  off  with  a 

:le,  I  uplifted  myself  ujwn  the  piUow!!,  and,  peer- 

hin  the  intense  darkness  of  the  chamber,  hearkened 

iiiit  wliy,  except  that  an  instinctive  spirit  prompted  me^ 

;i  low  and  indelinitc  sounds  which  came  through  the  pauses 

••orm  at  long  intervals,  I  knew  nut  whence.     Overpowered 

i  tense  sentiment  of  horror,  unaccountable  yet  unendurable,  I 

r .  >■•,  ,<-\  ray  ch»tl»es  with  haste,  for  I  felt  that  I  should  sleep  no 

in..rf  (Luring  tlie  night,  and  endeavoured  to  arouse  myHclf  from  the 

■iti«Ue  condition  into  which  1  had  fallen,  by  pacing  rapidly  to  and 

mi  ihrtKigh  tlie  apartment. 

I  bod  taken  but  few  turns  in  this  manner,  when  a  light  step  on  an 
■djotoinx  staircase  arrested  ray  attention.  I  presently  recognised  it 
as  that  of  Usher.  In  an  instjinl  al\erward&  he  rapped  witli  a  gentle 
touch  at  my  door,  and  entered,  bearing  a  lamp.  His  countenance 
WM,  as  nsual,  cadaverously  w«n ;  but  there  was  a  species  of  mad 
hilarity  in  his  eyes,  an  evidently  restrained  hysteria  in  lus  whole 
demeanour.  His  air  appalled  me  ;  but  anything  was  preferable  to 
Ihc  aolitude  which  I  liad  so  long  endured,  and  I  even  welcomed  hi« 
fiwcwm  aa  a  relief. 

"AikI  you  have  not  seen  it?"  he  said  abruptly,  after  having 
■Ured  about  him  fur  some  moments  in  silence.  "  You  have  not, 
then,  aeen  it?     But,  stay  !— you  .^hhll." 

That  speaking,  and  having  carefully  shaded  his  lamp,  he  harried 
t*  iMM  or  the  gigantic  casements,  and  tlirew  it  freely  open  to  the 
Mom. 

The  irapetuous  fury  of  the  entering  gust  nearly  lifted  us  from  our 
fret.  It  was.  indeetl.  a  tempestuous,  yet  sternly  beautiful  night,  and 
cue  wildly  singulnr  in  its  terror  and  its  beauty.  A  whirlwind  had 
•pfiarently  collected  its  force  in  our  vicinity ;  for  there  were  fre* 
qiicnt  and  violent  alterations  in  the  direction  of  the  wind  ;  and  the 
txcavding  density  of  the  clouds  (which  hung  eo  low  as  to  press  upon 
the  turret*  €>f  the  house)  did  not  prevent  our  perceiving  the  life-like 
velocity  with  which  lliey  flew  c^treeriiig  from  all  jiuinta  against  each 
other,  without  paJt^in^  away  into  tlie  distance.  I  say  that  even  their 
exceeding  density  did  not  prevent  our  perceiving  this ;  yet  we  hiid 
■o  sHoapae  of  the  moon  or  stars,  nor  was  there  any  flashing  forth  of 
thr  lii^tning  ;  but  the  under  surfaecs  of  the  huge  masses  of  agitated 
Tapottr,  as  neil  as  all  terrestrial  objects  immediately  around  us,  were 
gMwiag  in  the  unnatural  light  of  a  faintly  luminous  and  distinctly 
fWbl*  gMeous  exhalation  which  hung  about  and  en&tirouded  the 

IMBMIOn. 

**  YcHi  must  not  —  you  shall  not  behold  this  !"  said  T,  shudder- 
tngly,  to  ITsher ,  as  I  led  him  with  a  gentle  violence  ft'om  the  window 
to  a  seat.  **  These  appearances,  which  bewilder  you,  are  merely 
I  III  lilt  al  plienoinena  not  unconniion :  or  it  may  be  thiit  they  have 
Ihilr  ghiutiy  origin  in  the  rank  miasma  of  the  taru.     Let  us  doae 


and  (luifceTMU  Co  i 

I  will  reail,  and  roa  sl»U 
■  tiUt  terrible  night  tof^echcr. 
.«*  I  had  tAken  up  was  the  *'  Mad  TnH  " 

imt  I  had  called  it  a  favouritr  a£  Ufltcr*! 

aiBHiK;  for,  in  truth,  there  is  little  in  it* 

*«  IMwIJTity  which  could  have  had  interest 

Edttlity  of  mj  friend.     It  waa,  however, 

.^ r  m.  hand  ;  and  1  indul|;ed  a  vague  iwfie 

Bi.  wOMiW  now  agitated  tlie  hypochondriac  wugbit 

<urj  of  nental  diitorder  is  full  of  simitar  ano* 

unnMneM  of  the  folly  which  I  should  read. 

ndeed.  by  the  wild  overstrained  air  of  vivaeitf, 

'.lied,  or  Bpparetitty  hearkened,  to  the  wordi 

4»tf  accU  congratulated  myself  upon  the  Miccea« 


4 


tt? 


it  well-known  portion  of  the  story  where  Eth- 

fri^t,  having  Kought  in  vain  fur  peaceable  ad- 

■  ing  of  the  l)emiit>  proceeds  to  make  good  in 

__     ilcre,  it  will  be  remrmberedj  the  words  of  tb* 

1 .  V  ho  was  by  nature  of  a  doughty  heart,  and  who 

'  i:li;il,  on  account  of  the  pawerfulnesa  of  the  wine 

>  '  .!-[i,  waited  no  longer  to  hold  parley  with  the 

.  was  oi'  an  obstinate  and  raalicefiil  turn  ;  but, 

.[n.»^(  his  shoulders,  and  fearing  the  rising  of  the 

.  hi*  mace  outright,  and  with  blows  made  quickly 

.-^a^oo^  of  the  dour  for  Ids  gauntleted  hand,  and  now 

ktfurdily,  he  so  cracked,  and  ripjied,  and  tore  all 

iHiiae  of  the  dry  and  hnllow-fiounding  wood  ala- 

Bt»l  throughout  the  foreat." 

,  .Atww  of  this  sentence  I  Rtarte<l,  and  for  a  moment 

,.^^-«rtfd  lo  nie— (a)ih(iiigh  I  at  once  concluded  that 

^K^  Wl  decfived  me)— it  nppeare<l  to  me  that,  from 

jir*T  portion  of  the  mansion  or  of  its  vicinity,  there 

:■■  my  ears  what  might  have  been,  in   its  e:£act 

M  vr.tlie  echo  (but  u  stifled  and  dull  one  certainty) 

.     ,  iiul  ripping  sound  which  Sir  Launcelot  had  ao 

x>l.    It  wu9,  beyond  doubt,  the  coincidence  alone 

^  ,'  .  >v  attention  ;  for,  amid  the  rattling  of  the  sashes 

_  ind  the  ordinary  commingled  iioiaes  of  the  still 

^^mk  *^  sound  in  itself  had  nothing,  surely,  which 

^0imtf^^  *»*  tli^ttirhed  nie.      I  continued  the  story. 

^  Campion  Etlielred.  now  entering  within  the  door, 

^-a^.ai4  untaxed  to  f}erceive  no  signal  of  the  mnliceful 

Aa  A*  *>***'  thereof,  a  dnis;on  of  a  scaly  and  prt>digioua 

^^^  ^»  fiery  tongue,  which  sate  in  guard  before  a  pa- 

>  ^_l^  II  tfoor  of  silver ;  and  upon  tlic  wall  tliere  hung  a 

^^_  Ihm^  with  this  legend  eawritten :  — 

*  «%•  fMfrtdt  herein  a  cnnqucmr  luth  bin, 
WW  iknt'*  ^*^  dragon  the  slileld  he  khall  win.' 

.  twKt^  •***  ro*"^*'  *"^  struck  upon  the  he.id  of  the 
^  j^bfliMe  him,  and  gave  up  his  pesty  breath,  with  a 


THE    PALL   OP   THE    HOUSE    OP    USHER. 


109 


ihriek  so  borrid  and  harsh,  and  withal  so  piercinff,  that  Ethelred  had 
fiuD  to  cloae  his  ears  with  his  hands  a^inst  the  dreadTuI  noise  of  tt, 
ttie  like  whereof  was  never  before  heard." 

Here  aj^n  I  paused  abruptly,  and  now  with  a  feeling  of  wild 
amazement,  —  for  there  could  be  no  doiilit  whatever  that,  in  this 
instance,  1  did  actually  bear  (although  from  what  direction  it  pro- 
ceeded I  found  it  imposMble  to  say)  a  low  and  apparently  distant, 
but  harsh,  protracted,  and  most  unusual  screaming  or  grating  sound, 
•»the  exact  counterpart  of  what  ray  fancy  had  already  conjured  up 
aa  the  sound  of  the  drugon's  unnatural  shriek,  as  described  by  the 
roinancer. 

Oppreased  as  I  certainly  was  upon  the  occurrence  of  this  second 
and  most  extraordinary  coincidence,  by  a  thousand  conflicting  sen- 
sations, in  which  wonder  and  extreme  terror  were  predominant,  I 
still  retained  sufficient  presence  of  mind  to  avoid  exciting  by  any 
ob»erv«tion  the  sensitive  nervousness  of  my  companion.  1  was  by 
BO  moint  certain  that  he  had  noticed  tlie  eounas  in  question  ;  af- 
(bough,  assuredly,  a  ntrange  alteraiion  had  during  the  last  few  mi- 
nuter taken  place  in  his  demeanour.  From  a  position  fronting  my 
own,  he  liad  gradually  brought  round  his  chair,  so  as  to  sit  with  his 
£aee  to  tlie  door  of  the  chamber,  and  thus  I  could  but  partially  per- 
ceive his  features,  although  I  saw  that  his  lipa  (rembled  as  if  he 
were  murmuring  inaudibly.  His  head  had  dropjied  upon  his  breast ; 
yet  1  knew  that  he  was  not  asleep,  from  the  wide  and  rigid  opening 
of  the  eye  aa  I  caught  a  glance  of  it  in  profile.  The  motion  of  his 
body,  too,  was  at  variance  with  this  idea  ;  for  he  rocked  from  side 
to  side  with  a  gentle  yet  constant  and  uniform  sway.     Having  ra- 

e]y  taken  notice  of  all  this,  I  resumed  the  narrative  of  SirLaunce- 
which  thus  proceeded  :— 
"  And  now  ihe  champion,  having  escaped  from  the  terrible  fury 
of  the  dragon,  bethinking  himself  of  the  brazen  shield,  and  of  the 
breaking  up  of  the  rnchantment  which  was  upon  it,  removed  the 
carcass  from  out  of  llic  way  l>eft*re  him,  and  approached  valorously 
orrr  the  mIvit  pavement  of  the  castle  to  where  the  shield  was  upon 
llie  wall ;  which  in  swith  tarried  not  for  his  full  coming,  but  fell 
tlown  at  his  feet  upon  the  silver  floor  with  a  mighty  great  and  ter- 
rible ringing  sound." 

No  anoner  had  these  syllables  passed  my  lips  than,  as  if  a  shield 
of  brasa  had  indfe<l  at  the  moment  fallen  heavily  upon  a  floor  of 
ailrer,  I  became  aware  of  a  di-itinct,  hollow,  metallic,  and  clangor- 
oo»,  y«  apparentlv  muffl«l,  reverberation.  Completely  unnervetl,  I 
lUrted  convulsively  to  mv  feet ;  but  the  measured  rocking  movement 
oTL'tbrr  was  undisturbccl.  I  rushed  to  the  chair  in  which  he  sat.  Hia 
eye*  were  bent  fixedly  before  him,  and  throughout  his  whole  coun- 
lenance  there  reigned  a  more  than  stony  rigidity.  But,  as  I  laid  my 
haiitJ  upon  his  shoulder,  there  came  a  strong  shudder  over  hi-^  frame, 
a  sickly  fcmile  quivered  about  his  lips,  and  I  saw  that  he  spoke  in  a. 
low,  hurried,  and  gibbering  murmur,  as  if  unconscious  of  my  pre- 
tence, ({ending  closely  over  his  person,  I  at  length  drank  m  the 
hidrotts  import  of  his  words. 

"  Xot  hear  it?  Yes,  1  hear  it,  and  have  heard  it  Long — long — 
long— many  minutes,  many  hours,  many  days,  have  I  heard  it — yet 
1  dami  not— oh,  pity  me,  miserable  wretch  that  1  am  !— 1  dared  not 
— 1  d*red  nut  speak  t     Tr  have  put  her  UviNg  in  the  tomb  I     Said  I 

VOL.  Till.  W 


170 


THE    PAl.L   OF   THE   HOUSE    OF   USHER. 


not  ray  senses  were  acute  ?  I  noro  tell  tou  that  I  heard  her  first 
feeble  movements  in  the  hollow  coffin.  I  heard  them — many,  many 
days  ago  —  yet  I  d»re<l  not — /  dared  mtt  xfteak!  And  now — to-nifjh 
— Ethelred — ha  1  ha  ! — the  breaking  of  the  hermit's  door,  and 
death-c^y  of  the  draj^on,  and  the  clangour  of  the  shield, — say  ratlte 
the  rendmg  of  the  coffin,  and  the  grating  of  the  iron  hingei,  and  her 
Bti'u^:gles  within  the  copi>cred  archway  of  the  vault!  Oh  !  whither 
shall  I  fly  ?  Will  she  not  be  here  nnon  ?  I*  she  not  huirying  to 
upbraid  me  for  ray  hiiste?  Have  I  not  heard  her  footsteps  on  the 
fttair  ?  Do  I  not  di8tingui.<>h  that  heavy  and  horrible  beating  of  her 
heart  ?  Aladman  !  "  ■ —  here  he  spnmg  violently  to  his  feel,  and 
shrieked  out  his  syllables,  as  if  in  the  effort  he  were  giving  up  his 
soul — "  niadman  f  I  fell  ^ou  thai  she  now  standt  it'tlhout  the  door  !  " 
As  if  in  the  superhuman  energy  of  his  utterance  there  had  been 
found  the  potency  of  a  8|>e1l,  the  huge  antique  panels  to  which  the 
speaker  pointed,  threw  slowly  back  upon  the  instant  their  ponderous 
and  ebony  jaws.  It  was  the  work  o'C  the  rushing  goit ;  but  then 
without  those  doors  there  did  stand  t)te  lofYy  and  enshrouded  figure 
of  the  Lady  Madeline  of  Usher.     There  was  blood  upon  her  white 


robes,  and  the  evidence  of  some  bitter  struggle  npon  every  pMrtifM 
of  her  emaciated  frame.  For  a  moment  she  remained  trembling  ani 
reeling  to  and  fro  upon  the  threshold,  then,  with  a  low  moaning  cry,"! 


fell  heavily  inward  upon  the  person  of  her  brother,  and  in  her  hur- 
rible,  and  now  final  death-agonies,  bore  him  to  tlie  floor  a  corpw,  and 
a  victim  to  the  terrors  he  had  dreaded. 

From  that  chamber,  and  from  that  mansion,  I  fled  aghast  The 
storm  was  still  abroad  in  all  its  wrath,  as  I  found  mvMlf  crossing 
the  old  causeway.  Suddenly  there  shot  along  the  palfi  a  wild  light, 
and  I  tunied  to  sec  whence  a  gleam  so  unusutd  could  have  issued, 
fur  the  vast  house  and  its  shadows  were  alone  behind  me.  The 
radiance  was  that  of  the  full,  setting,  and  blood-red  moon,  which 
now  shone  vividly  through  that  once  barely- discernible  fissure,  of 
which  1  have  before  spoken,  as  extending  from  the  roof  of  the  build- 
ing in  a  KigJtag  direction  to  the  base,  ^^'hi1c  I  gazed,  this  fissure 
rapidly  widene<l, — there  came  a  fierce  breath  of  the  whirlwind, — the 
entire  orb  of  the  satellite  burst  at  once  upon  my  sight,  — my  brain 
reeled  as  I  saw  the  mighty  walls  rushing  asunder, — there  was  a  long 
tumultuous  shuutintr  sound,  like  tlie  voice  of  a  thousand  waters,  — 
and  the  deep  and  dank  tarn  at  my  feet  closed  sullenly  and  silentlj 
over  the  fragments  of  the  *'  House  of  Usher." 


A  PROPOS  TO  THE  DOCTOR'S  LAMENTED  DEATH. 

Wb*t  's  ilie  news  ?— Why,  ihey  say,  Deaih  has  kill'd  Doctor  Morrison,— 
The  Pill-malcer  ?— Yes— JTien  Death  will  be  sorry  sooo. 

[From  the  French: — 

(Juoi  lie  nouveau  ?    La  Mort  rienl  d'eolever  Bois  rude. 
Ce  fameux  m^eciu  T—Oui.— Quelle  ingratitude  f] 

J.  A.  J. 


ni 


COUNTY  LEGENDS. 

BT   THOHAa    IKOOLDBBY,   KSQ. 

No.  I. 

iSlottDU  S^acht   of  ^|)rctD0tirrric* 

THK  SHROPSHTUE  BLUEBEARD. 
A  LEGEND  OF  "  THE  PROUD  SALOriANS." 

tt-tcrtni  UrmporilmSf  in  sgro  Salnptpnu,  Qnidani^  ml  nnmen  Johnnnm,  He 
£2BBU)UI1  deinde  nancDpattm,  uxores  quamplunmHs  dticdi,  raecnt  ec  (,iu  refer- 
«■!)  mwadiKBt ;  oesa  Boliioi  ami  mim  miMfnituilinis  reliQ>]titfiu.  Tt^in  dcuium  in 
lapaate  delioto,  vel  **  m>DU  rubra,"  ut  (licuni  Jurboooaulu,  dopniiuiuii,  onufiiM 
niof»primitur.— RAODLraos  oe  Oicsto* 

Oa  1  why  doth  thine  eye  gleam  so  brigbt. 

Oh  I  why  doth  thine  eye  gleam  so  briglit? — 

The  Mother 'i  at  home. 

The  Maid  may  not  roam, 
She  never  will  meet  thee  to-night  I 

By  the  light 
Of  the  moon — it '»  impossible — quite  I 

Yet  thine  eye  is  stili  brilliant  and  bright, 

SlottUu  ^At&f ! 
'  It  gleams  with  a  fiendish  delight — 
"  *Ti«  done — 
She  is  won  ! 
Nothing  under  the  sun 
Can  loose  the  charm'd  ring,  though  it  *•  slight  I 

Ho!  ho! 
It  fits  so  remarkably  tight !  " — 

Tlie  wire  is  as  thin  as  a  thread, 

33[ou'Dti  S^arht  I 
7*he  wire  is  as  thin  b»  a  thread  ! — 
"  Though  slight  bf  tlte  chaint 
Again  might  and  main 
Cannot  rend  it  in  twain — She  is  wed ! 

She  IB  wed  t 
She  is  mine,  be  she  living  or  dead  ! 

Haw  I  Iww  1 1  •■— 

Nay,  laugh  not,  I  pray  thee,  so  loud, 

filou^irSlacltrl 
Oh  t  laugh  not  to  loud  and  so  clear ! 
Though  sweet  is  thy  smile 
Tlie  heart  to  beguile, 
Yet  thy  laugh  is  quite  shocking  to  hear. 

Oh  dear  I 
It  makes  the  blood  curdle  with  fear  ! 

N  3 


tSt  COUNTY   LEGENDS. 

The  Maiden  ii  gone  by  the  glen, 

Bloa1)i(  3adu  [ 
She  U  gone  by  the  glen  and  the  wckkI — 
It  'i  a  very  add  thing 
She  should  wear  such  a  ring. 
While  her  tre&BCs  are  bound  nlth  a  snood. 

By  the  rood  ( 
It's  a  thing  that's  not  well  understood  I 

The  Maiden  is  stately  and  tall, 

Slottbu  Jsrfcc  1 
And  itately  xhe  walks  in  her  pride  ; 
But  the  Young  Mary-Anne 
Runs  as  fast  as  she  can. 
To  o'ertake  her,  and  walk  by  her  side : 

Though  she  chide 
She  deems  not  her  sister  a  bride  t 

But  the  Maiden  is  gone  by  the  glen, 

SSIotiHic  9ar&t  1 
Mary-Anne*  she  is  gone  by  the  lea ; 
She  o'ertakes  not  her  sister. 
It 's  clear  she  has  mias'd  her. 
And  cannot  think  where  she  can  be  ! 

Dear  me  I— 
"  Ho  1  ho  t— We  shall  see— we  shall  see  1"— 

Mary-Aone  is  gone  over  the  lea, 

£}I()u1rtt  Sadttl 
Mary-Anne,  she  is  come  to  tlic  Tower ; 
But  it  makes  her  heart  quail, 
For  it  looks  like  a  jail 
A  deal  more  than  a  fair  Lady's  bower, 

So  sour 
Its  ugly  grey  walls  seem  to  lour. 

For  the  Barbican's  massy  and  high, 

Bloutrit  Slachc  I 
And  the  ook-door  is  heavy  and  brown. 
And  with  iron  it 's  plated. 
And  machecollated 
To  pour  boiling  oil  and  lead  down  ; 

How  you  *d  frown 
Should  a  ladle-fuU  fall  on  your  crown  1 

The  rock  that  it  stands  on  is  steep, 

ISIouliic  ^atkt  I 
To  gain  it  one  '■  forced  for  to  creep ; 
The  Portrullis  is  strong, 
And  the  Drawbridge  is  long, 
And  the  water  runs  all  round  the  Keep; 

At  a  peep 
Ywt  c«u  see  thai  tlie  Moat 's  very  deep  I 


BLOUDIB   iACKB    OF   SUKhWSIlERRIB. 
The  Drawbridge  is  long,  but  it 's  down. 

And  the  Portcullis  bangs  in  the  air  ; 

And  no  Warder  is  near, 

With  his  horn,  aud  his  spear, 
To  give  notice  wheo  people  come  there. — 

I  declare 
Mary* Anne  bu  run  into  the  Square ! 

The  oak-door  U  heavy  and  brown, 

StauHft^acltrt 
But  the  oak-door  is  standing  ajar, 
And  no  one  is  there 
To  say,  *'  Pray  take  a  chair, 
Tou  seem  lired.  Miss,  with  running  so  far— 

So  you  are — 
With  grown  people  you  're  scarce  on  a  par  I " 

But  the  Young  Mary-Anne  is  tiot  tired, 

Slotitiit  ^artit  I 
Slie  roams  o'er  your  Tower  by  hergell'; 
She  runs  through,  very  soon. 
Each  boudoir  and  saloon, 
And  examines  each  closet  and  shelf. 

Your  pelf, 
All  your  plate,  and  your  china, — and  delf. 

She  looks  at  your  Arras  so  Bne, 

Blautfir  Slarlti  I 
So  rich,  all  description  it  mocks ; 

And  she  now  and  then  pauses 
To  gaze  at  your  vases, 
Your  pictures,  and  or-molu  clocks  ; 

Every  box, 
Eve^  cupboard  and  drawer  she  unlocks. 

She  looks  at  the  paintings  so  rare, 

SSIotitiir  9ac6tl 
That  adorn  every  wall  in  your  house  ; 
Your  impayabte  pieces, 
Your  Paul  Veronesea, 
Your  Rembrandts,  your  Guidos,  and  Dows, 

Morlund's  Cows, 
Claude's  Landscapes, — and  Landseer'e  Bow-wowa. 

She  looks  at  your  Statues  so  fine, 

SionHit  Slarfat ! 
And  mighty  great  notice  she  takes 
Of  your  Xiobe  crying. 
Your  Mirmillo  dyinj;. 
Your  Hercules  strangling  ilie  snakes, — 

Mow  he  shakes 
The  nasty  great  things  as  he  wakes  1 


173 


174  COUMTT  LEGENDS. 

Your  LaocooD,  hit  ■erpents  and  boys, 

SloaHuaMcktl 
She  views  with  some  little  dismay ; 
A  fine  copy  of  that  I  can 
See  in  the  Vatican, 
Unless  the  Pope's  sent  it  away. 

As  they  say. 
In  the  Globe,  be  intended  last  May.* 

There 's  your  Belvidere  Phcebus,  with  which, 

Sloubu  Sociu  I 
Mr.  Milman  says  none  other  vies. 
(His  lines  on  Apollo 
Beat  all  the  rest  hollow. 
And  gwned  him  the  Newdigate  priae.) 

How  the  eyes 
Seem  watching  the  shaft  as  it  flies  I 

There 's  a  room  full  of  satins  and  silks, 

maiau  9adu  I 
There 's  a  room  full  of  velvets  and  lace, 
There  are  drawers  full  of  rings, 
And  a  thousand  fine  things. 
And  a  splendid  gold  watch,  with  a  case 

O'er  its  face. 
Is  in  every  room  in  the  place. 

There  are  forty  fine  rooms  on  a  floor, 

Slanllu  Sociu ! 
And  every  room  fit  for  a  Ball, 

It  8  so  gorgeous  and  rich, 
With  so  lofty  a  pitch, 
And  so  long,  and  so  broad,  and  so  tall ; 

Yes,  all, 
Save  the  last  one — and  that 's  very  smalL 

It  bcmsts  not  stool,  table,  or  chair, 

)9louaie  ^acitc ! 
But  one  Cabinet,  costly  and  grand. 
Which  has  little  gold  figures 
Oflittle  gold  Niggers, 
With  fishing-rods  stuck  in  each  hand. 

It 's  japann'd. 
And  it 's  placed  on  a  splendid  buhl  stand. 

Its  hinges  and  clasps  are  of  gold, 

WovaU  Saffct  t 
And  of  gold  are  tts  key-hole  and  key, 
And  the  drawers  within 
Have  each  a  gold  pin, 
And  they're  number'd  with  1,  2,  and  3, 

You  may  see 
All  the  figures  in  gold  filigree  I 

*  "  The  Pwe  U  said — thii  fact  it  hardlv  credible — to  haveM^d  the  Looeoon  and 
the  Apollo  Bwvidere  to  the  Emperor  of  Russia  for  nine  miUiont  of  fnmoB.'* 

GMe  and  TroMlier. 


BLOUDIE   JACKE   UP   SHREWSBEBRIE. 
Number  ]  '«  full  of  emeralds  erecn. 

Number  3 '«  full  of  diflmorul  and  pearl ; 

Kui  what  c1np8  she  see 

In  drawer  Number  3 
Tliat  makes  all  her  senses  to  wliir), 

Poor  Girl ! 
And  each  lock  of  her  hair  to  uncurl  ? — 

Wedding  Fingers  are  aweet  pretty  things, 

To  salute  them  one  eagerly  strives, 

When  one  kneels  to  "  propose  " — 
It 's  another  guehpte  chose 

When,  cut  ofT  at  the  knuckles  with  knives, 

From  our  wives, 

They  are  tied  up  in  bunches  of  tives. 

Yet  there  they  He,  one,  two,  three,  four ! 

Sloutiir  3n(in\ 
There  lie  they,  6ve,  six,  seven,  eight  I 
And  by  them,  in  rows, 
Lie  eight  little  Great-Toea, 
To  match  in  size,  colour,  and  weight  I 

From  their  state, 
It  would  seem  they  *d  been  scvcr'd  of  late. 

Beside  them  arc  eight  W'edding-ringg, 

)3lau1)ic  ^acbt  I 
And  the  gold  is  as  thin  as  a  thread— 
**  iio  !  ho  I — She  is  mine — 
This  will  make  up  the  Nine  I  "^ 
Dear  me  I  who  those  shocking  words  said  ? — 

—She  ried 
To  hide  herself  under  tlie  bed. 

But,  alas !  there 's  no  bed  in  the  room, 

SSlouOic  ^iicftc! 
And  she  [>eeps  from  the  window  on  high; 
Only  laticy  her  fright 
At  the  terrible  sight 
Down  beloWy  which  at  once  meets  her  eye  I 

"OhMyll" 
She  half  utter'd, — but  stifled  her  cry. 

For  she  saw  it  was  You  aod  your  Man, 

SSlouHic  jlarhel 
And  she  heard  your  unpleasant ''  Haw  I  haw  1 " 
While  the  Maiden,  stone  dead. 
By  the  hair  of  her  head. 
O'er  the  bridge  you  were  trying  to  draw. 

As  she  saw — 
A  tiling  quite  contra-ry  to  law  I 


175 


176  COUNTY  LEGENDS. 

Your  Man  haa  got  bold  of  her  lieeU, 

iSloutiir  ^ynchr! 
StouHic  ^atkt !  you've  got  holtl  of  her  hair  I— 
But  Dor  •^(ictic  nor  his  Man 
Can  see  Young  Mary-Anne, 
Site  has  hid  herself  under  ttie  stair. 

And  there 
Is  a  horrid  great  Dog,  I  declare  I 

His  eyeballs  are  bloodshot  and  blear. 

He  'i  a  sad  ugly  cur  for  a  pet ; 

He  seems  of  the  breed 

Of  that  "Billy."  indeed, 
Who  used  to  kill  rats  for  a  bet ; 

1  forget 
How  many  one  morning  he  atv. 

He  has  skulls,  ribs,  and  vertebrae  there, 

ISIoutlif  ^Rciitl 
And  thigh-bones;— and,  though  it 's  so  dim. 
Yet  it 's  plain  to  be  seen 
He  has  pick'd  them  quite  clcafty^ 
She  expects  t«  be  torn  limb  from  limb. 

So  grim 
He  looks  at  her — and  she  looks  at  him  I 

She  has  given  him  a  bun  and  a  roll, 

StotiHu  Sacbt ! 
She  has  given  him  a  roll  and  a  bun. 
And  a  Shrewsbury  cake, 
Of^ailin'i  own  make. 
Which  she  happened  to  take  ere  her  run 

She  begun — 
She  'd  been  used  to  a  luncheon  at  One. 

It  "s  "  a  pretty  particular  Fix," 

Btoulitr  Sfarttf ! 
— Above,— there  'b  the  Maiden  that's  dead  ; 
Below — growling  at  her — 
There  "s  that  Cannibal  Cur, 
Who  at  present  is  munching  her  bread 

Instead 
Of  her  leg,  or  her  ami}  or  her  head. 

It's  *'  a  pretty  particular  Fix,** 

She  is  caught  like  a  mouse  in  a  trap ; — 

Slay  1— there's  something,  I  think, 
That  has  slipp'd  through  a  chink. 

And  Ml'n,  by  a  singular  hap, 

Slap, 

Into  poor  little  Mary- Anne's  lap  1 


BLOUDIB    JACKC  OF    SUHBWSBERRIE. 

It's  a  very  fiae  little  gold  ring, 

Sloutiie  Slarfce  I 
Yet,  though  sliglit,  it's  remarkably  &tout. 
But  It 's  matio  a  sad  stutn, 
Which  will  always  remain 
On  her  frock — tor  Blood  will  not  wash  outj 

I  doubt 
Salt!  of  LemoD  won't  bring  it  about ! 

She  hat  grasp'd  that  gold  ring  in  her  hand, 

SUutiir  Sackt ! 
In  an  instant  she  itands  on  the  floori 
She  makes  but  one  bound 
O'er  the  back  ol'  the  hound, 
And  a  hop,  skip,  and  jump  to  the  door. 

And  she's  o'er 
The  Drawbridge  *he  'd  traversed  before  I 

Her  hair  *b  floating  loose  in  the  breeze, 

S3Iouljic  3aciit  I 
For  gone  is  her  "  bonnet  of  blue." 

— Now  the  Barhican'g  past  I — 
Her  legs  "  go  it "  as  fast 
As  two  drumatitdcs  a-beating  tattoo,     * 

As  thej  do 
At  Kcveillie,  Paradct  or  Review ! 

She  has  run  into  Shrewsbury  town. 

filouDu  ^adit  I 
She  has  called  out  the  Beadle  and  May'r, 
And  the  Justice  of  Peace, 
And  the  Rural  Police, 
TtU  "  Battle  Field  "  swarms  like  a  Fair, — 

And  see  there  !— 
E'en  the  Parson  's  beginning  to  swear!  t 

There '«  a  pretty  to-do  in  your  Tower, 

fiUutlit  jiacfci  I 
la  your  Tower  there  *8  a  pretty  lO'du  I 
All  the  people  of  Shrewsbury 
Playing  old  gooseberry 
WiUi  your  choice  bits  of  taste  ond  virhl ; 

Each  bijou 
U  upset  in  tlieir  search  after  yuu  I 

They  are  playing  the  deuce  with  your  things, 

asiouHit  3acfcc  I 
There  's  your  Cupid  is  broken  in  two, 
And  so  too.  between  usi  is 
Each  of  your  Venuses, 
The  "  Antique"  ones  you  bought  of  the  Jew, 

And  the  new 
One,  George  Robioi  swears  catnc  from  St.  Cloud. 


177 


j^yrr  lzgrnds. 

.-^      .  nureii  behind, 

Bloutlu  ^suki  I 
i-'-.«..  ~  .uiured  before; 

.  r<<   LI  ^«r  many 
_K^      .  Ai^  •JKTS  'i  a  score, 

If  not  more, 
-«..T»  xihi  am  CD  the  floor. 

..uiiiuic  vou  up  stairs  and  down, 
SbuUit^afkcI 
- .  smu  io  puss  is  forbid, 
\:n^  ihvy  turn  out  the  closets 
.ju  lii  their  depositfr— 
t7*c  .-  -:ue  dust-hole — come  lifl  up  the  lid  I  " — 

So  they  did — 
..iiy  could  not  find  where  you  were  hid  I 

u . — they  will  have  you  at  last, 

SlouUu  ^a^t  I 
^.  .uiueys  to  search  they  begin  ; — 
'  he^  have  found  you  at  last  I— 
^icre  you  are,  sticking  fast, 
,.  .  .^-  <inw»  doubled  up  to  your  chin, 

Though  you  're  thin  I 
.'«.  -ii*.  ■  what  a  mess  you  are  in  I — 

H.  .  .Lfiible  pickle  you  're  in, 

SlouKic3lacficl 
^.  ■n*.'^  is  as  black  as  your  hat ! 
"  .\.i  :iue  Holland  shirt 
,  . .;  jvcr  dirt  I 
,    %  .  our  poiut-lacc  cravat  I 

What  a  Flat 
^  .^li  .ui  asylum  as  that ! 

^  j^.ufct'ly  help  laughing,  I  vow, 

SSlouUu  Stacbr  I 
.is*  ot"  their  turmoil  and  strife ; 
'  . ..  "('  uot  fit  to  be  seen  1 
■  Cm  -ook  like  Mr.  Kean 
j^..  «tiicre  he  murders  his  wife  1 — 

On  my  life 
.» .J  S?  icraped  with  a  knife  I 

^.,  ^(1  you  down  flat  on  your  back, 
SlouUtt  Starbt  I 
^.1  J  you  down  flat  on  your  back  I 
,^   ::v»  ^uack,  and  they  thwack, 

^M.  '•  funny-bones  "  crack, 
..I*  >urviched  on  the  rack, 

At  each  whack  I^ 
^.     *.wi  *  aivftge  atuck  I 


BLOUDIE   JACKE   OF  SHREWSBERRIE. 


179 


They  call  for  the  Parliament  Man, 

)3louQit  ^Acbt  I 
And  the  Hangman,  the  matter  to  clinch, 
And  lUvy  call  for  the  Judge^ 
But  others  cry  •'  Fudge  I — 
Uon't  budge,  Mr.  CafccalV  an  inch  1 

Mr.  Lynch  -f 
Will  do  very  veU  at  a  pinch  I  " 

It  it  uselew  to  •cuffle  and  cuff, 

)3Ioutlu  jlAcbi ! 
It  U  uaelc&8  to  struggle  and  bite  I 
And  to  kick  and  to  scratch  I 
You  have  mot  with  yuur  match, 
And  the  Shrewsbury  Buys  hold  you  tight. 

Despite 
Year  determined  attempts  "  to  shew  fighu" 

They  are  pulling  you  all  sorts  of  ways, 

Sloubic  3tnch(  I 
They  are  twisting  your  right  leg  Nor-Wust, 
And  your  left  leg  due  South, 
And  your  knee  's  in  your  mouth. 
And  your  bead  is  poked  down  on  your  breast, 

And  it's  prest, 
I  protest,  almost  into  your  chest  t 

They  have  pull'd  off  your  arms  and  your  legs. 

As  the  naughty  boys  serve  tlie  blut-  flies : 

And  they  've  torn  Irom  tltcir  sockets, 
And  put  in  their  pockets 

Your  fingers  and  tltumbs  for  a  prize  1 

And  your  eyee 

A  Doctor  has  bottled — from  Guy's4 

'  Jalwo  M  Etrtdie  actrnt  u  Provosi  Alanhal  to  tbe  ftnny  of  Williun  the  Con< 
•Mrar,  util  rKvivFil  fruui  tliAi  loooBrch  ■  grant  oi  Uic  dignity  uf  Hereditary  Urand 
PaaaDoasry  of  liai^UniL,  togctlier  «-itfa  k  "  crnft  or  parwl  of  L-md,"  kiiowu  )iy  tite 
tMMtff  ibc^QM  WItlir,  w-  Mtddx.  tubflheM  t^  him,  and  the  hcingrnirralof  hla 
My,  In  Qtvad  Serjatnirf,  by  tli«  yearly  pmenutlon  of  '*uic  htfuipeo  cnvattr." 
AfiB-  nmalninf  for  MT«nil  (cenerBUunt  in  the  unte  njune.  the  iilbn  puacd,  by 
narriag*  uf  iba  baixcu,  iniu  iLu  acuent  family  </  lli«  Kirbn,  and  ihencv  K'^io 
«p  ifast  vf  CaUmift,(Ut  Elia.  lAM.)  —  At^itnwn  CaUcrmft,  Ktq.  of  Saffron  flill, 
m,  Mid(tx.  U>e  j«re*ctii  rcinoentaiire  of  tlie  Ketches,  eserciMd  his  "  fuuciiun  "  on 
•  nry  rvcvnt  occaiioiif  aiul  claimed,  And  was  aUoirtd  the  fee  of  1^<I.  under  the 

sbcImu  gnni  as  )|NnnMn'a  tIBaqn. 

Aaas<— Ut  aad  4ia,  Quarterly,  Arf;ent  and  Sable:  in  tlie  fint  quarter  a  Gib* 
tec  ef  the  weMid,  noiwed  proper,  OtBcmft.  Sod,  SaUle,  three  Nigbt-cajts  ^Vrgmt, 
Mrfted  Oulca,  S  and  1.  KHcKa.    Srd,  Or,  a  NoHgny/ntnint,  A'irby. 

fturvoBTKBS. — D«*t*r-.  A  Sheriff  in  hii  pride,  robed  Onlee,  chained  and  eol- 
hnd  Ot.  —  diawtar  :  An  Ofdiuary  diipUyed  proper,  «gBed  and  baadsd  Amot, 

DM^OtlleB. 

Motto. — Stc  iTea  ad  sbtba  I 

t  IVi  Amnrican  Jusltnian,  C^rmpilrr  iif  the  •*  Yankee  Pandoota," 
X  A  kimilar  approDriaiion  is  aaJd  to  liavo  been  lUitdo.  by  an  esiiiieni  pncuiioiicr, 
rf  ibeae  of  liM  late  liaaMiMr  Conrveisier. 


..^..idMOHMra  >md  torn, 

SlonUu  Sarite ! 
. .  ^-  -tt"  uiiat  imi  thej  chop ; 
.   .    ..iMt  ue  'vaoie, 
.  ._i  ^  *  juie 

.^  .  :iiu  :aUed  the  "OSpttle  Coppt," 

And  they  pop 
,     .wjii.  ja  Lbe  top  I 

^       cik  .Je  angers  and  toes, 

Sloullif  Sia(&(  1 
_*  jw  juaj  TOur  prey. 
_   ._<«E  auiEers  and  eight  toes 
_^.^iy  uutatoeSr 
^  ^f  •*  "  they  're  called  to  this  day ; 
— So  they  say, — 
.^^1  uig  them  in  May. 

.  _.^  ,.  :ne  dear  little  Girl  ? 

SlouSte  ^ackt  I 
.  _-»  -.  :ne  young  Mary-Anne? 
...  -3  9adly  afraid 
-t.  .-wG  >atHl  an  Old  Maid, 
__  _  ^^^  Liuc  every  Young  Man 
Had  a  plan 
^^    ,,,    ke  •*  poor  Sister  Fan  I  " 

.  ^i!  ■»  aow  leading  apes, 

filouDit  3acbe  I 
^  .  ju^itrors'  small-clothes  betow; 

.    A.   t'ten  been  told, 
eu«»e  it  is  so — 

No!  No! 
.B  rain  is  "  No  Go  I  " 

MORAL. 

,  «  uonil  I'd  fain, 

33Iou%ir  ^Rsht ! 
^  .ii..K>  should  draw  from  my  pen, — 

.*gut  take  these  flights 
._    ^hi»-ihiny  nights, 
jfcfr**w«"»  young  men, 
*  "  Down  a  glen  I — 

_^:  r«tf  one  in  ten  !  " 

_^  V^our  terrible  Tower, 
^  SlouXrttaaclit! 

V   SKm  'iberties  take, 
^  u*-«»  ^a****"*  *"■  Spouses, 
.   ^■AW*^  houses ; 
^   ,  jrtJther,  they  '11  make 
-* —     "  A  Mistake ! 


GA8PARD  DE  BESSE. 


BY  MISS    LOUISA   8TUART  OOSTELtO. 

Abott  the  commencement  of  the  eighteenth  century  there  ex-* 
irtcd  in  Provence  one  of  those  remarkable  chftracters  who  from  time 
to  time  Appear  in  a  country,  Amtue  and  affrif^ht  its  inhabitants  by 
their  actions,  become  its  hero,  and  leave  behind  them  a  name  illus- 
triou-i  in  popular  tradition.  iSuch  was  Robin  Hood  in  England  ; 
Fra  Diavolo  in  Italy ;  Rob  Roy  in  Scotland ;  Joac  in  Andalusia ; 
and,  not  Ie«s  renowne<1  in  Provence  was  Gaspard  de  Besse.  The 
nndy  shore*  of  the  Durance,  and  the  verdant  mountains  of  the  Var, 
were  alike  the  scenes  of  hia  exploits :  sometimes  he  was  spoken  of 
At  enf^Bffed  in  daring;  adventures  in  the  environs  of  Aix,  and  in  the 
Venaisftin :  the  possessions  of  the  Holy  Father  were  placed  under 
contribution  by  aim,  as  well  as  those  under  the  jurisdiction  of  the 
Dake  de  Vlllars,  then  jrovemor  of  Provence.  He  contrived  to  elude 
all  pursuit ;  to  escape  all  ambuscades  ;  and,  while  he  was  sought  in 
the  deep  gorf^es  of  OUioules  he  was  deep  in  his  depredations  in  the 
woods  of  Ksterel. 

He  is  said  to  have  carried  his  audacity  so  far  as  to  venture  evea 
into  the  lion's  mouth  ;  and  has  been  known  to  sign  with  his  own 
hand  descriptions  of  his  person,  which  the  local  authorities  had 
caused  to  be  placarded  on  the  inn-doors»  and  other  pUces  of  public 
resort 

There  was  no  want  of  superstitious  dread  attached  to  his  name, 
— which  circumstance,  doubtless,  was  mainly  insirumeiiul  in  a^sist- 
Mg  hii  views;  that  he  bore  a  charmed  life,  and,  also,  that  he  was 
d^ftble  of  rendering  himself  invisible,  were  facts  uncontested  by 
most  of  the  country  people,  to  whom  his  deeds  were  familiar. 

Often  as  the  peasant's  family  crowded  round  the  hearth  at  night 
wondrous  tales  were  circulated  of  the  famous  robber,  accompanied 
with  all  the  exaggeration  which  fear  suggested.  Nevertheless  there 
lUDgled  with  the  awe  he  inspired  but  little  detestation :  it  was  true 
that  he  attacked  and  despoiled  castles;  but  then  the  cottage  was 
■afe  from  his  ravages  ;  and,  though  he  exacted  heavy  payments  from 
the  carriages  of  rich  travellers  passing  through  his  territories,  he 
permitt^  the  humble  cart  or  waggon  oi'  the  ponr  firmer  to  pass 
unmolested.  Gaspard  de  Besse  was  neve^  known  to  shed  blood, 
ncept  in  selfdrfence:  no  assassination  had  ever  been  charged 
igBinK  him  ;  and  frequently  he  abandoned  an  enterprise  rather  than 
become  conqueror  at  the  expense  of  human  life. 

The  ladies  of  the  higher  classes  of  ^Vix  were  very  far  from  looking 
upon  thin  bold  maruntler  witli  eyes  of  dislike  or  severity:  not  a  few 
amongst  them  were  content  to  pardon  his  thefts  in  consideration  of 
his  elegant  manners,  for 


b 


"  He  wnoM  tslk — ye  Godt  1  how  he  would  lalkt 
A»k  with  flnrh  noftness,  Heat  wiih  such  a  trnce. 
That 't  wss  a  pleaaure  to  be  robb'd  by  him  I  " 


FTe  never  failed  In  the  roost  gallant  and  complimentary  manner  to 
restore  or  leave  some  jewel  when  he  took  possetision  of  a  caiket ; 
and  be  pleaded  with  to  much  coniiderate  forbearance  that  ih'ise  fair 


^ 


180 


wilt  have  alarmed,  would 
hncti,  in  which  their  Im- 
Bd  to  present  him  with  the 

^^^  the  largest,  softest,  and  moet 

r  waring  in  the  richest  ring. 

T  were  seen,  the  indulgence 

m  catraordinATy.     One  lady, 

anecdote  of  GnKpard,  which 

X"  she  said,  "  infinitely  more 

.^^^■y  WUning  her  beautiful  hnml  than 

^N^a^hsr  ingers;"  and,  on  her  eatreai- 

-9  A  I'avtMinte  one.  he  had  exclaimed, 

.jm  nKuUection  wiU  be  attached  to  the 

J— tfa  of  July  when  Madame  de  Ser- 

.:AeiMu  which  she  posscnscd  near  the 

Jiat  time  of  the  year  in  Provence  the 

^^fcjQ  cases  of  absolute  necessity,  no  one 

^r-mA.  roads  during  the  day.     Madiuue  de 

uitted  Aix  in  the  evening,  and  night 

'  ii«rrow  and  secluded  cross-road  which 

..■\tx  Marie  de  Roparade.     Aware  that 

■tn"'*'""  by  daylight,  and  having  some 

.^^■iftnpiats  respecting  Gaspard  de  Besse, 

.  Imaring;  w^th  his  band  in  the  vicinity  of 

.^■•d  her  people  to  take  every  precaution. 

^aA  ftrward  witli  all  the  speed  that  the 

j^  MriulioQs  armed  with  pistols,  and  the 

.4^»upt  their  place  on  the  box,  each  dmi- 

^0^^    Their  beautiful  mistress,  memntime, 

^^MiOb  nearly  lulled  to  sleep  by  the  mono- 

,^Mk  sod  the  soil  and  perfumed  air  which 

.^ift*  distance  she  alrcatly  hailed  the  bright 

^/ia^  in  the  rays  of  the  moon.      Ruu^ed 

^hiaked  forth,  and  began  to  trace  the 

,  Tinr.  when  a  woody  eminence  suddenly 

.  Jtf  same  moment  her  carriage  stopped 

-<il'  Bun-uunded  by  a  band  of  brigand^ 

,^icAng  a  moHt  formidable  aspect.     It  was 

—^  was  useless ;  her  servanu,  therefore, 

,c-«n»ited  at   their  heads,  came  to  the 

^^tlht  best  policy.     The  terrified  beauty, 

-^  ^1  mi  time  in  taking  off  her  bracelets, 

,^  Mid  drawing  her  veil  over  her  face,  she 

^Ift  Qrinkets.  to  the  intruders. 

4]4^ota  were  heard  ;    and  with   the 

g^ntfd   cavaliers  rushed   amongst  the 

;^iou8  attack  with  tlieir  sabres.     Ma- 

•-«  oTjoy,  not  unmingled  with  alarm,. 

irtge,  covering  her  head  with  the 

li  in  thin  position  she  could  not 

^  by  a  soft  voice  clo.se  to  her  ear, 

^ijan  entreated  her  to  diamias-ill 


GASPARD   DE   BE8SB. 


188 


tev,  for  that  the  band  of  Gaspare!  de  Besse  was  dispersedj  and  ihe 
could  punue  her  way  in  safety. 

Summoninfr  courage,  the  ventured  to  ]ook  round  her,  and  became 
aware  that  the  brood  moonligbt  fell  only  on  the  forms  of  the  two 
firiendly  cavaUers,  who  were  utationed  at  her  carriage  door,  their 
hata  in  their  hands,  and  each  in  an  attitude  of  the  greatest  respect. 
Uadatne  de  Serviane  then  learned  that  one  of  the  gentlemen  was 
Uonaieur  de  Prieure,  a  peraon  of  condition  of  Avignon,  who,  accora* 
panicd  by  his  servant,  was  on  his  way  to  a  small  country-house^ 
which  he  had  lately  bought,  not  far  from  Sainte  Marie  de  Rt'parade. 
Monmirur  de  Prieure  escorted  the  beautiful  I^larquisc  to  the  (jatej*  of 
her  chateau  of  Arnajon,  and  did  not  leave  her  till  he  had  obtained 
permt^^iion  to  wait  on  her  the  fnlluwing  day. 

Wlien  the  morrow  arrived,  the  Marquise,  still  agitated  and  ner- 
Toua  from  her  recent  terror,  but  lovely  in  her  paleness,  receivetl 
with  every  mark  of  grateful  acknowledgment  the  generous  man 
who  had  thrown  himself  into  so  much  danger  on  her  account,  and 
had  rendered  her  so  important  a  service.  She  now  observed  that 
'  de  Prieurt*,  aihled  to  a  remark.ibly  handsome  exterior  infi- 
!  gnce  and  refinement  of  manners,  much  elegance  of  discourse, 
[•lid  an  air  of  good  breeding,  which  at  once  told  his  position  in 
k  Mcietj.  There  was  a  peculiar  dignity,  amounting  almost  to  pride, 
hi  hia  demeanour^  and  a  scar  on  his  forehead,  the  faint  line  of  which 
WH  loat  amidst  the  profusion  of  his  hair,  proved  that  his  courage 
had  been  put  to  more  than  one  proof. 

An  aecfuaintance  began  under  such  romantic  circumstances  was 
likely  to  become  intimate.  Monsieur  de  Prieure's  country-house 
»aa  but  at  a  short  distance  from  that  of  Maitame  de  Scrvaine  ; 
at  l«act,  two  leagues  to  a  cavalier  accustomed  to  hunting,  was  but  an 
iiMcnificant  ride :  his  presence,  tlierefore,  at  the  chateau  was  conti- 
■■M  ;  no  day  passed  without  his  visit ;  and  the  fair  Marquise  would 
have  felt  extremely  disappointed  if  his  usual  hour  had  arrived  with- 
out bringing  her  new  and  agreeable  companion,  whose  anecdotes  of 
the  gav  world,  and  of  the  hcnt  society  of  Aix,  amui^cd  her  inlinitely. 
Bat,  tonugh  it  was  evident  he  spoke  of  that  which  was  familiar  to 
hfan.  he  acknowledged  that,  in  his  present  mood,  society  w.is  dis- 
tuteful  t'>  him.  and  th.it  it  was  with  the  )mrpose  of  avoithng  it  that 
hf  had  retired  to  that  neighbourhood  to  bury  himself  in  woods,  sud 
roaaa  undisturbed  amongjtt  the  scenes  of  nature.  Whenever,  there- 
tore,  *ny  of  her  friends  happened  to  arrive,  Monsieur  de  Prieure  in* 
variably  took  his  leave,  with  entreaties  for  her  excuse  of  his  misan- 

HeantiTDe  the  adventure  had  made  a  great  noise  in  the  district, 
■nd  it  was  whispered  that  the  pretty  widow  was  far  from  insensible 
I*  the  good  qualities  of  her  deliverer.  What  gave  some  colour  to 
this  rttioaur  was,  that,  instead  of  a  sojourn  of  a  few  days,  according 
to  her  origtoal  intention,  Aladame  de  Servainc  had  allowed  several 
weeks  to  eUpKe  without  aiiiiotincing  her  purpose  to  return  to  Aix. 
ilooaieuT  de  Prieure  appeared  equally  contente<l  in  bis  sylvan  re- 
Iraat ;  they  met  dailvt  and  all  day  long;  both  were  young,  both  at- 
tnctire,  and  both  free  to  choose;  what,  therefore,  could  be  mora 
likfly  than  that  a  marriage  should  complete  the  rom.ince. 

It  u>  happened  tliat  a  party  of  fricndti,  who  no  doubt  were  not 
l^ithuot  a  certain  degree  of  curiuaity  on  the  aubjvct,  arrived  aud- 


mtij  at  the  chateau  orAmajon.  Momteur  de 
vnotaiit  of  this  circumstance,  was  BurpHsed  oa 
t  tbe  usual  time  to  find  so  much  company  :  though 
'  annoyed,  he  was  too  well-bred  to  allow  hii  feelin)^ 
■  with  the  cheerfulness  of  tlie  party  whom  he  joined  :  he 
iav  into  cm  venation,  partook  of  the  dejeuner,  and  took 
^ammk  tarm  :n  the  gardens  with  the  young  Marquise  and  her 
.^■gai^  AQ  thia  time  a  gentleman,  AIon«iieur  le  Comte  de  Pontenar. 
«^  hK*n^rda  constantly  fixed  on  Monsieur  de  Prieure,  who  on 
ttt»  >Mle  «p|>eared  disturbed  by  his  observation.  Scarcely  had  he  en- 
!■»(  tin  takmt  when  he  started  in  evident  astonishinenl ;  and,  epeak- 
m^  A  few  words  in  a  low  voice  to  his  chasseur,  the  latter  imniedi- 
alii^  de|>arted  in  some  haste.  Monsieur  ile  Prieure  soon  appeared 
n»  x«eover  the  embarrassment  of  finding  himself  in  to  marked  a 
OMOner  the  o^ect  of  a  stranger's  scrutiny,  and  was  seated  in  one  of 
t^  arbours  of  the  garden,  discoursing  with  much  animation,  when 
llW  servant — the  same  who  had  assisted  him  in  the  rescue  of  Ma- 
dame de  Sjervaine,  approachetl,  and  whispered  a  few  words  in  hia 
mn-  He  nwe,  and,  turning  to  the  Marquise,  begced  her  to  excuse 
hit  departure,  as  an  afTuir  of  some  moment  called  him  hence. 

"Hold!"  suddenly  exclaimed  Monsieur  de  Fontcnay  ;  "  furtber 
OODcealnicnt  is  useless." 

■'  What  do  you  mean.  Count  ?  "  was  the  general  question.  ^| 

■' St*>p  !    wretch  and    deceiver!"  cried  J^Ionsiuur  de  Pontenay.^l 
"  A»si«t  me,  friends !     Hecure  the  impostor  1     la  it  possible  that  you 
do  iH>c  recogniftc  Gaspurd  de  Besse  \  " 

*'  If  Huch  be  the  case,  this  is  somewhat  a  bold  proceeding  on  your 
Wft,  Cuuut,"  coolly  remarked  the  accused,  snatching  a  pistol  ofilered 
^It  by  liia  servant  ;  and,  opening  a  po&sage  ior  himself  and  atteo- 
d»Mf  .!>-.., .-h  the  astonished  group,  whom  the  terror  of  his  nam* 
h»t.  *  with  alarm,  and  who  stood,  unable  to  offer  any  impe- 

itawoL  w   hts  Hight.     They  reached  the  garden  gate,  where  two 
pMMcAil  hor«c«  were  in  waiting,  and  each  mounting,  they  rode  off 
■  "  •Li««d,  waving  their  hands  to  a  body  of  armed  police,  who, 
■Iw  chftttWir  of  Monsieur  de  Fontenay,  had  at  the  moment 
^U*^**^  l><^'*»  *  considerable  distance,  already  exhausted  with  their 

<•  ih*  feelings  of  the  beautiful  widow  when  she  discover- 

sMger  to  which  she  had  been  expubed,  when  by  degrees 

'    hpcnme  apparent  to  her  nnnd,  and    she  saw  how 

..i  iHH'nmade  the  dupe  of  this  singular  and  fascinating 

.-Ut^tfugh  she  thanked  Monsieur  de  Fontenay  very   sin- 

-*i  hiftUmely  interference,  she  could  not  alutgether  smother 

<4  that  so  accomplished,  so  refined,  so  delicate,  and  so 

._    4  luvsc,  as  generous  as  he  was  bold,  sbould  be  so  utterly 

ji  Wr  reicarda. 

WHWKUUg  two  letters  were  found,  one  in  the  boudoir  of 

other  on  the  chimney-piece  in  the  dining-room, 

[ « }jt0  OMAnt  de  Fontenay.     The  latter  was  brief,  nod  was 

i  afwiu    Gaspard  de  Besse  neither  foreets  nor  for- 
}  tkNir  of  vengeance  is  arrivcfl,  you  wtlT  not  escape 

t  nn  thus ; — 


GA8PARD   DE    BESSE. 


1S5 


"The  lecret  which  I  have  never  dared  openly  to  confess.  In  ipite 
of  the  rasny  opportunities  which  your  cunmllng  sweetness  gave  me, 
but  wbicli  my  every  look  and  word  niuitt  h^ive  revealed  to  you,  I  am 
now  bold  enough  to  declare.  Yes,  too  lovely  woman  !  I  ndtire  you, 
and  am  tbrce<l  tu  lell  my  pusnion,  not  with  a  hope  of  mitigating  your 
fcom,  not  with  a  thought  of  being  heard  with  indulgence,  ala&!  I 
tell  it  only  as  my  excu!<«I  Forgive  the  extravagance,  the  delirium 
of  a  passion  whicli  Could  make  an  uiitca^t  forget  hiii  position, — 
which  could  encourage  one  so  unworthy  of  you  to  cling  to  hope 
eren  to  the  last,  and  nourish  in  his  heart  the  fatal  tenderness  which 
could  never  meet  with  return.  To  be  near  you  daily,  to  hear  your 
ruice,  and  meet  the  soft  glances  of  your  eyes,  unconscious  as  you 
were  of  who  he  was  who  lived  but  in  your  presence, — this  lias  been 
my  happiness  too  long — it  has  been  my  crime!— but  the  temptition 
was  too  greal,  and  I  yielded.  liut  ask  your  heart  if  I  deserve  no 
iiMlulgence?  I  am  a  rubber, — an  outlaw.  1  am  guilty  uf  all  that 
your  friend:^  and  my  enemies  may  charge  mc  with ;  but  you  were 
lacrcd  in  my  eyes.  ICxcept  by  my  presumptuous  love,  which  I  con- 
ormled,  have  1  deserved  your  reproachcti  ?  No :  you  were  always  in 
my  power,  and  I  took   no  advantage  of  it.     A  short  existence  of 

rurity  and  happiness  has  dawned  upon  me  ;  and,  now  that  it  is  past, 
can  look  back  to  the  time  without  remorse,  and  with  ever-spring- 
ing delight,  though  the  object  of  my  wild  intaginings  is  never  to  be 
mine,  iteceivc  my  blessing  —  my  Bojouni  near  you  has  made  me 
wtMihy  to  bless  you — and  adieu  t 

"Gaapakd  de  Bksse." 

There  had  been  a  long  interregnum  of  hostilities  on  the  part  of 
the  celebrated  chief,  and  the  country  residents  round  were  enjoying 
their  security,  when,  innnediately  al^er  the  discovery  at  Madame  de 
Serviane's,  the  depredations  of  Gaspard  and  his  band  became  more 
tretneodous  than  ever.  Chateaux  were  pillaged,  nnd  robberies  in- 
numerable connnltted  ;  but  everything  in  the  possession  of  Madame 
d*  6erriane  was  respected, — not  a  grape  from  one  of  her  vines  wa^ 
taken^  and  she  felt  secure  in  ttie  midst  of  confusion.  Whatever  were 
ber  secret  feelings  on  the  subject  of  the  roninntic  Iwiidil,  her  pride 
Ibrbaiie  all  intiulgcncc  in  regret,  or  at  least  all  appearance  but  of 
indisnation  ;  and,  whetiier  from  pique  or  vanity  it  is  difficult  to 
dicide,  she  was  induceil  to  accept  the  addresses  of  M.  de  Fontenay, 
who  had  been  a  suitor  for  her  hand  during  the  greater  part  of  her 
IwnyeArs'  widowhood. 

Tbc  Count,  who  since  the  event  which  had  banished  the  strange 
lorer  of  the  Marquise  had  lived  constantly  a  guest  at  the  chateau, 
wai  in  the  habit  of  spending  some  hours  every  morning  in  the  chase 
m  the  neighbouring  woods.  The  security  which  reigned  in  every 
part  of  Madame  de  Herviane's  domains,  and  the  reports  of  the  police 
that  Gaspard  was  engaged  in  his  pursuits  in  Upper  I'rovence.  had 
UiUed  suspicion*  and  Alonsieur  de  Fontenay,  without  any  arms  but 
the  sword  he  usually  wore,  amused  himself  in  his  ordinary  manner. 

The  middle  of  September  had  arrived,  and  one  morning  the  young 
hBDUman  was  pursuing  his  devious  way  through  the  middle  of  a 
wooded  nolley  entirely  solitary,  when  two  cavaliers  on  a  sudden 
fUried  Dut  of  a  tliick  copse,  and  stood  before  liim.  He  had  no  difli- 
cidly  in  rtcoguiaing  Gaspard  and  his  attendant.     Flight  was  out  of 

VOU   VIII.  o 


186 


GASPAKD    DE    BESSE. 


the  question.  The  lior<e  ol*  the  bandit  had  a  repuUtion  for  swilU 
uess,  to  which  he  had  ofleii  proved  his  just  claim  ;  besides,  the  na- 
tiiral  bravery  of  the  young  man  made  iiim  unwilling  to  withdrxw 
from  the  conHict,  however  unequal.  He  drew  his  aword,  therefore^ 
and  resolved  to  sell  hi.s  life  dearly. 

"  I  promised  you  this,  Count,"  said  Oospard.  "  I  keep  my  word. 
You  are  now  tn  my  power,  and  you  wilt  not  easily  escape  me." 

*'  Have  I  attempted  it  ?  "  coldly  replied  the  Count.  "  But  if  yoa 
seek  my  life,  it  will  not  be  yours  without  a  struggle." 

"If  I  desireil  to  kill  you,"  answered  Gaspard,  contemptuously, 
"  it  would  have  cost  inc  little  trouble."  At  the  same  time  he  ahowe<l 
die  pistols  in  his  belt.  "  But  I  am  do  assassin  ;  it  is  a  duel  that  I 
require." 

*'  You  jeat,"  exclaimed  dc  Pontenay.  "  How  long  is  it  since  men 
of  (amily  have  lieea  in  the  habit  of  lighting  duels  with  robbers  on 
the  highway? " 

"  If  noble  blood  is  necessary  on  this  occasion,"  said  Gaspard,  with 
a  smile.  "  I  can  satisfy  your  punctilious  feelings," 

As  he  spoke,  he  udvunt-ed  close  to  the  Count,  and  seizing  his  arm 
before  he  was  aware,  Lwnt  down  towards  him,  and  rapidly  pro- 
nounced a  few  words.     The  Count  started. 

"  Is  this  true  ?  "  he  exclaimed.     "  It  is  very  strange  !  " 

"  I  atlcht  itH  truth  by  the  soul  of  my  mother,  whose  tomb,  covered 
with  its  armorial  bearings,  is  to  be  seen  in  the  cathedral  of  Aix." 

"  I  am  at  yuitr  service,"  said  Monsieur  de  Funtenay,  dismounting 
from  his  horse  at  the  same  moment  as  Gaspard  ;  and  the  combat  be- 
gan. At  the  lliird  pass  Monsieur  de  Kcntcnay,  wounded  in  the 
shoulder,  lay  extended  on  the  grassj  disarmed,  and  bis  swcwd 
broken. 

The  counten.incc  of  Gaspard  was  horribly  pale;  strong  emotions 
seemed  struggling  in  his  bo!-om.  lie  btnt  over  his  fallen  adverwry, 
and  had  r.-iised  his  arm  to  strike  the  last  blow,  when,  drawing  a  deep 
breath,  and  with  a  violent  effort,  he  started  back. 

"No  I"  he  cried  aloud,  —  "it  shall  never  be  said  that  Gaspard 
killed  an  enemy  vanquiahe<l  and  disarmed.  Rise,  Count  dc  Fonte* 
nay,  and  depart,  but,  above  all,  J<trget  we.  If  we  should  ever  meet 
again,  you  will  do  well,"  he  added,  smiling,  "  not  to  recognise  your 
old  acqunintiuice." 

Gaspard  sprung  upon  his  horse,  and  both  robbers  instantly  dlaap* 
peared. 

The  Count  was  curefid  not  to  speak  of  his  adventure.  He  invented 
an  excuse  for  his  wound  and  the  broken  sword,  and  lost  no  time  i: 
pressing  the  beautiful  widow  to  name  the  day  of  their  nuptials. 

Several  montlis  had  now  elapsed,  and  preparations  on  an  extensiv 
scale  were  being  made  for  the  event  at  the  chateau  of  Arnajon.  A 
small  select  party  hud  been  invited  to  be  present  at  the  signature 
of  the  contract,  and  the  most  brilliant  of  the  distinguished  families 
of  Aix  were  assembled  iu  the  decorated  drawing-roums  of  the  bride 
elect.  All  was  gaiety  and  enjoyment,  and  a  general  air  of  cheerful- 
ness and  happy  security  rei^nt*d  throughout  the  society,  when  the 
sound  of  a  horse's  feet  galloping  ni  full  speed,  and  making  the  paved 
court  re-echo  with  the  datti-ring  din,  e-autted  a  panic  in  every  breast. 
The  saloon  dour  was  tlirowu  open  violently,  and  a  cavalier,  cov 


4 


I 


GASPARD    DE    BESSC. 


t87 


vith  du«t,  and  enveloped  in  a  large  cloak,  ruahed  into  the  apart- 

MCBt. 

**  Tlwnk  God  i  "  cried  he,  "  I  am  yet  in  time !  I  bare  come  before 
tfae  boar." 

He  took  off  the  broad  hat  which  concealed  his  fenturen,  and  the 
bride  and  bridegroom  recognised  the  features  of  Ganpard  de  Bessc. 
Atadanie  de  Serviane  threw  herself,  overpowered  with  terror,  into 
the  arms  of  De  Fuiiteiiav,  whu  in  the  (irst  niovpment  of  his  rai^  had 
drawn  his  sword.  At  tliis  sight,  ail  the  pentlcmen  ])re«cnt  followed 
hi«  example;  but  Gaspard,  with  a  cunternptuou5  glance  throwing 
open  his  nuuiUe,  discovered  to  them  that  his  pistols  were  ready  to 
us  hand. 

"  Silence !  and  listen  to  me,"  cried  he,  in  an  authoritative  voice  ; 
and  such  was  the  ascendancy  Uiat  he  po^sessed^  tliat  every  sword's 
point  was  lowered  instantly.  "Icome  not  here,"  he  continued,  "to 
injure,  but  to  save.  Know,  also,  that  we  do  not  meet  on  equal 
rroundv.  You,  Count,  who  Bland  there  impatiently  playing  with 
Uie  hilt  of  your  sword,  can  l>c«t  judpe.  The  castle  is  surrounded, 
bi  one  moment  fitly  men,  as  determined  as  thuse  befure  me,  and 
better  armed,  will  be  here,  and  one  drop  of  my  blood  shed  would 
coat  the  lives  of  all.  Believe  me,'  he  added,  seeing  the  indecision 
of  the  jrenttemen  whom  he  addressed,  "  my  voice  would  be  more 
powerful  to  save  you  than  all  those  swords.  Sheath  them,  therefore, 
and  leave  me  the  maRtrr  in  this  business.  Remain  passive,  and  I 
mwer  for  you  with  my  head,  otherwise  you  are  dead  men." 

Scarcely  had  he  finished   speaking  when   cries  and  shrieks  re- 

aounded  tlirough  the  building;  the  courts  and  gardens  were  ^lled 

with  banditti,  whose  grim  faces  appeared  at  the  windows,  and  who 

bad  already  forced  the  doors,  armed  with  poniards  and  piKtoI.s.     A 

"  arful  silence  reigned  in  the  »Hloon.     Gaspard  firmly  and  resolutely 

kept  hi*  ptJition  beside  the  fainting  form  of  the  ^larquise.     The  ban- 

Iditti  wlvanced  to  within  a  few  paces  of  the  terrified  guests,  when 

■their  ctiicf  stepped  forward  and  presented  IiimstOf.     Lund  acclama- 

Ftionx   hailed   hi^  presence;  but  at  a  sian  from  him  they  ceased  at 

ftmce,  and  retreated  as  by  magic  into  the  outer  courts,  where  they 

rnaained  silent  and  immovable,  waiting  his  commands. 

"  You  are  safe,"  he  !>;ud,  turning  to  the  company.     "  I  learnt  only 

tlii*  vrry  morning  the  project  suggested  by  one  of  my  lieutenants. 

Twenty  leagues  seiwratetl  inc  from  this  chateau,  which  he  proposed 

lo  pillage  lo-nif;ht.     You  see  how  necessary  my  presence  was,  and 

^_Umu  rckiktance  would  have  l)een  fatal." 

^m  When  he  hiul  conctudctl,  he  walked  up  to  the  table  on  which  lay 
^Vtbc  contract  of  marriage ;  he  stooped  down,  with  a  smile  on  his  lip, 
^Baad  taking  a  |)en,  nflixed  his  signature  to  the  jviper  beside  those  of 
^"  the  witnc»es,  —  aitd  who  wot)  there  bold  ctmugh  to  say  hitn  nay? 
Tlien  with  the  calmest  aspect,  as  though  there  was  nothing  out  of 
^vShe  ordinary  course  of  things  in  his  situation,  he  knelt  at  the  feet  of 
^B^taiUnie  dc  Scrvianr,  and  taking  a  ring  from  his  girdle,  he  placed  it 
^^  an  her  finger,  entreating  her  to  wear  it  as  a  souvenir  of  his  visit. 

The  AlurtjuiMe,  with  a  deep  blush,  recognised  a  ring  which,  in  a 
moment  of  confidence,  she  bad  herself  presented  to  her  disguised 
Urvrr. 

Five  minulc?t  .iftiTwardtt,  the  Durance  scparntcd  Gaspard  and  his 
*       *[  frooi  ihc  chJttcau  of  jVrusjon, 

O  2 


188 


MORN  AT  SEA. 


Many  years  aAer,  this  redoubted  chief  of  brigands  was  taken, 
judged,  and  condemned  to  death.  Many  persons  of  rank  used  their 
utmost  endeavours  to  obtain  his  pardon,  and  the  Countess  de  Fonte- 
nay  and  her  hu»band  were  not  amongst  the  least  strenuous ;  but.  in 
spite  of  their  active  exertions,  the  result  was  unfavourable.  The 
judges  would  hear  of  no  extenuation  ;  the  trial  was  carried  on  with 
rigour.  So  dangeruus  and  so  fascinnting  a  robber  could  not  hope  to 
meet  with  leniency  ;  and  Gaspard  de  Bme  underwent  the  punish- 
ment of  the  wheel  in  the  public  square  at  Aix. 

L.  8.  C. 


MOttN  AT  SEA. 


BY    JAMBS   ALDttfCn. 

Cluarly  with  mcDLil  eye, 
Where  the  first  slanted  ray  of  sun-iight  springs, 
1  see  lije  mom  with  golden-frioged  tdaffs 

Up  pointed  to  tlie  sky. 

Id  youth's  divinest  glow. 
She  stands  upou  a  wandering  cloud  of  dew, 
Wliose  skirts  are  aun-illumcd  with  everY  hue 

Worn  by  Cod's  cov'nuii  bow  ! 

The  child  of  light  and  air  I 
O'er  land  or  wave,  wlicrt'er  her  pinioits  move. 
The  shapes  of  earth  are  clothed  in  hues  of  love 

And  truth,  diviuely  fair. 

Athwart  this  wide  abyss, 
On  homeward  way  impati«nily  I  drift; 
Uhl  might  she  War  me  now  where  sweet  flowers  lift 

Tlieir  eyelids  to  her  kiss  ! 

Uer  smile  hath  overspretd 
Tlic  bcaven-refleciing  sea,  that  evenaore 
Is  tolling  solemn  knells  from  shore  to  shore 

For  Its  uucoflia'd  dead. 

Most  like  an  angel  friend. 
With  noiseless  footsteps,  which  no  impress  leire, 
She  comes  io  gentleness  lo  those  who  grieve. 

Bidding  the  long  night  end. 

Uow  joyfully  will  hail, 
With  re-enliven'd  hearts,  her  presettce  ftur, 
The  helpless  shipwTCck'd,  patient  in  despair, 

U'iitthing  a  far  off  sail. 

Vain  all  AflecfJon's  arts 
To  clicer  the  sick  man  through  the  night  liave  been  ; 
She  to  his  casemrnt  goes,  and  looking  in, 

Death's  sliadow  thence  de|>arts. 


189 


TIIE  TRUE  STORY  OF  THE  MERCHANrS  WARD. 

raoriNQ   TOB    TBUTU   OP   TBS  OLO  SAW,  THAT   WBKN  ONK    DOOH 

smrxa  another  opens. 


THE    BfEnCIIANT. 

It  is  veritably  reported  of  a  certain  sapient  philosopher,  that  he 
one  sumnier'a  day  took  with  him  a  large  flask  of  Venice  glass  into 
ti>e  sunfthine,  and  fiUinff  it  with  the  rays  of  light,  corke^l  it  up,  and 
carefully  enwrapping  it  in  the  ample  folds  of  his  cloak,  took  it  in- 
continently to  his  cell,  expecting  that  on  the  arrival  of  night  he  might 
UM  it  as  a  substitute  for  hid  lamp  !  Disappointment  was,  of  course^ 
the  only  result  he  obtained  from  his  experiment. 

As  difficult  have  other  men  found  it  to  catch  and  confine  the  subtle 
rays  of  beauty.  Lattices,  jalousies,  and  dark  chambers  have  alike 
proved  useless  and  unavailing,  and  the  beams  of  loveliness  have 
Kmggted  into  liberty  despite  every  precaution. 

**  Earty  (o  bed,  aod  early  to  rise, 
Msiie  a  man  beattlty,  wealihy,  and  wi^,** 

sbd  "  Catch  a  weasel  asleep."  were  the  favourite  sayings  of  the 
thriAy  Master  Morton  Hardingc,  unc  oi  the  luckiest  traders  in  the 
city  of  London  (for  he  really  possessed  but  a  very  »mal1  complement 
of  brains),  and  his  richly-laden  argosies  were  continually  traversing 
1^  WAS,  bringing  great  gains  to  his  growing  exchequer. 

Being  a  man  of  good  repute  and  known  wealth,  he  was  above  the 
sofpicion  of  wrong ;  his  ample  means,  like  unto  many  another  rogue 
ia  grain,  placing  ruraj  fortunately  for  his  soul's  health,  above  tempt- 
■cion. 

Among  his  friends — such  friends  ns  worldly  men  may  claim— was 
one  Muter  Robert  Dormer,  who  in  hU  day  1)a<I  been  a  trader  of 
■erne  eminence  ;  but,  having  amassed  a  considerable  fortune,  retired, 
upon  the  death  of  his  spouse,  from  the  care  and  turmoil  attending 
upon  commerce,  and  spent  the  remnant  of  his  days  in  the  society  of 
iua  only  daughter  Agnes. 

Scarcely,  however,  had  she  attained  her  tenth  year,  when  ruthless 
death  snatched  from  her  her  indulgent  parent,  beque.'ithing  her  to 
the  trust  ami  (guardianship  of  Ilardinge,  a<i  well  as  the  whole  of  liis 
vcmlth,  of  which  Agnes  was  not  to  become  mistress  until  she  arrived 
■t  the  ripe  age  of  twenty-four.  In  the  management  of  the  fortune, 
Hanlinge  found  both  pleasure  and  pro6t ;  but  in  the  management 
of  Aliatrcst  Agneas  be  discovered  neither. — the  cause  whereof  will 
.be  utitfactohly  shown. 

}  TBB    WARD. 

AdMEs  Dormer  yiM  as  wild  as  a  young  fawn,  and  as  graceful 
withal.  Under  the  eye  of  her  indulgent  parent  she  had  grown  at 
will,  iinpruned  and  unimproved,  flourishing  witli  all  the  Ixauty  and 
luxuriance  of  an  untrained  vine.  Nature  had.  fortunately,  bestowed 
upon  her  auch  perfections  both  in  mind  and  body,  that  even  educa- 


190 


THE  TRUE   STORY    OF 


lion,  or  the  want  of  it  rather,  could  not  entirely  efface  her  gootl 
quftlities.  8he  possesseil  a  quick  and  playful  wit,  that,  like  sun- 
shine to  a  landscape,  threw  a  charm  over  every  conversation  in 
which  she  joined.  She  acquired  knowledge  without  an  effort :  and 
even  the  cold  and  calculating  g^uardian  avowed  that  she  was  superior 
to  his  best  clerk  in  the  attainments  of  reading  and  vriting,  render- 
ing him,  when  in  the  humour,  the  most  valuable  assistance  in  the 
arrangement  of  hij*  accounts. 

And  had  he  been  a  votary  of  the  sea-born  Ventia,  instead  oi  the 
eui'tli-born  Plutiis,  he  certainly  would  have  become  enamoured  of 
hU  beautiful  ward  ;  but  in  the  love  of  gold  was  concentrated  all  the 
best  affections  of  his  nature. 

Being  unmarried, — for  the  expense  of  a  wife  and  family  affrighted 
his  prudence, — Agnes  had  no  one  of  her  own  sex  to  coiuinune  with, 
except  the  scrvantft  of  his  establishment,  which,  in  his  pride,  he 
certainly  kept  up  with  a  due  regard  of  hia  rank  and  wealth. 

As  Agnes  grew  to  wonianht>od,  Hardinge  naturally  conceived 
there  was  some  danger  of  his  ward's  forming  an  attachment  which 
might  prove  detrimental  to,  and  nip  the  fruits  of  his  productive 
guardiaiiHhip  in  the  bud  ;  he  theretbre  secretly  resolved  to  take 
every  precaution  to  prevent  the  occurrence  of  such  a  calamity. 

TRK    NURSE. 

With  due  caution  Hardinge  sought  for  and  selected  a  matron, 
whose  age  and  ugliness  would  have  alone  recommended  her  as  th« 
very  flower  of  duennas  to  the  most  suspicious  don  in  Ilispania. 

Uniler  the  title  of  nurse,  he  introduced  this  elderly  female  to  his 
household,  who  was  henceforth  to  be  the  dragon  in  the  garden  of 
Hesperide^.  Her  very  appearance  at  the  6rst  introduction  seemed 
to  have  an  influence  upon  the  light-hearted  Agnes  ;  for,  to  the  asto- 
nishment of  HardiTige,  »he  accosted  her  with  so  much  gravity,  ami 
such  a  quiet  and  chastened  demeanour,  that  the  raercbaDt  was  de- 
lighted. 

This  satisfaction,  however,  was  speedily  destined  to  be  a  little 
troubled.  Seizing  an  opportunity  when  she  was  alone  with  him, — 
"  Uncle,"  said  Agnes,  for  soshe  usually  styled  her  guardian,  "  Uncle, 
methinks  of  all  virtues,  economy  is  one  of  the  Iwst,  seeing  that  it  is 
one  of  the  most  productive." 

"  Well  said,  and  wisely,  child,"  replied  Hardinge. 

**  And  therefore,"  continued  Agnes,  gravely,  '*  if  I  can  prove  you 
one  of  the  most  economical  of  men,  uncle,  you  must  consequently  be 
one  of  the  best." 

"  In  what  mean  you,  child  f  "  demanded  Hardinge. 

"  In  the  pickling  department  of  your  housewifery,"  replied  Affnei. 
"  By  'r  Lady  !  the  saving  of  vinegar  by  the  introduction  of  Nurse 
Beatrice  must  prove  enormous;  for  truly  methinks,  uncle,  one  sour 
look  oi  hers  will  suffice  to  pickle  a  whole  jar  of  cucumbers." 

Hardinge  was  confounded,  and  before  he  could  summon  up  coq*  j 
rage  to  parry  this  hporlivc  thrust,  the  lively  Agnes  had  beaten  a 
retreat  to  the  music  of  her  own  laughter. 

TUS    COMPACT. 

BcATRicE  proved  to  Agnes  the  very  shadow  of  beauty  ;  for  nej- 
[tfaer  ut  home  nor  abroad  did  she  stir  but  the  lynx-eyed  nurse  wms  at 


TUB    MBIICHANT'S   WARD. 


191 


her  heels.  All  her  pood  humour,  however,  prove*!  insufficioin  to 
shield  her  against  the  depressing  cffectR  ul'  this  jinnuyance ;  nnd  she 
resolved,  with  that  decisiun  which  was  such  a  reiiinrkable  feature  in 
her  character,  at  once  to  express  h(>r  mind  upon  the  subject. 

The  old  woman  was  induslrioll^ly  plying  her  needle,  while  the 
light-hcarteil  Agufs  wajt  lUtletsIy  turning  over  her  table t.s. 

"  Sweet  nurse,"  said  »he,  ''methinks  thou  hofit  remarkably  good 
eyes." 

"  Our  Liady  be  prnsed  I "  replied  the  nurse,  reverently,  *'  my  sight 
u  good." 

"  And  thou  canst,  doubtle^is,  see  as  far  through  a  millstone  a.H  most 
fuika,  I  Irow,"  continued  her  charge. 

"  Sooth  can  I !  "  caid  the  old  woman,  witli  .t  knowing  «hHke  ofthc 
head,  and  attempting  what  she  intended,  poor  soul !  for  a  siuite,  but 
which  degenerated  into  nothing  more  nor  less  than  an  awful  grin ! 

"  And  thou  ha£t  an  eye  to  thy  interest  in  the  Aervice  thou  hast 
taken  of  ray  very  worthy  and  worshipful  gunrdy?  " 

•'  Well,  well,  child."  said  the  nurse,  "  1  believe  1  do  know  on 
which  side  my  bread  's  buttered." 

"  A  good  saying, — and  1  'II  match  it  with  another,— fair  word<t 
butler  no  parsiiipH ;  and  therefore,  nurse,  will  I  without  phrase  in- 
form lliee.  that  I  am  not  only  rich,  but  free, — nay,  I  love  liberty  as 
much  as  any  little  bird  of  the  air,  atul  feel  that  being  caged  wouUI 
kill  me  outright.  Besides,  I  am  too  great  a  tNiby  to  be  put  into 
leading-strings ;  it  is  now  some  years  since  I  bade  farewell  to  them 
ami  the  go-cart." 

"  Tut,  tut,  sweet ! "  cried  Beatrice;  "  whnt  arl  thou  driving  at?  " 

"  None  arc  so  blind  as  tliose  who  won't  see."  answered  Agnes^ 
archly  ;  "  there  'a  another  of  thy  fiivourite  proverbs  for  thee.  Now, 
mark  me,  —  ]  would  that  thou  shouldst  practise  this  same  wilful 
blindness  in  respect  to  my  actions." 

"  Dear,  sweet,  goo<l  lady,  whnt  d*»sl  thou  mean?" 

"This, — that  when  we  are  walking  abroad,  and  thy  Wary  eye 
should  chance  to  see  some  gay  young  cavalier  kiss  his  hand  to 
me-^— " 

"  Very  improper  I  "  exclaimed  the  nurse. 

'*  Verj-,"  said  Agnes ;  "  and  therefore  shut  thy  virtuous  eyes 
against  tlie  impropriety,  and  couMMjufntly  there  will  be  no  need  of 
rrporting  the  naughty  impertinence  of  the^ie  gnllauts  to  my  afllicted 
guordy.  Let  me  alone  suffer  tlie  indignity,  and,  depend  on  'i,  I  'II 
bear  it  like  a  woman;  knowing  that,  sooner  or  later,  I  shall  meet 
my  rewanl." 

The  heiress  then  proceeded  to  inform  Beatrice  that  she  would  act 
M  she  pleased  in  despite  of  all  opposition ;  that  she  was  fully  per- 
suaded of  the  sordid  rcasniih  her  guardian  had  for  keeping  her  se- 
cluded ;  and  finally,  that  if  Beatrice  did  not  become  perfectly  neuter 
in  the  struggle  she  would  torment  her  continually,  and  lead  her  such 
a  dance  that  she  should  rue  the  day  when  she  had  undertaken  the 
office  of  a  spy  ;  on  the  contrary,  tliat  if  she  would  only  be  conveni- 
ently blind  and  deaf,  m  became  a  woman  of  her  years  and  discretion, 
she  would  patronize  her,  and  told  her  to  calculate  the  advanUigcs. 

The  old  woman  was  certainly  staggered  ;  but  a  little  com^iidera- 
tlon,  and  certain  weighty  confiiderations  offered  by  Agnes,  made 
duty  kick  the  beam. 


190 


-9  i*iiA.£taKi  or 


•  Bon  of  an  opulent  vrt 
■' ;  anil  in   ihe  quantity  of  1 
iierer  in  Saint  F&ul's  attracted 
"-•u*  fop. 

i(t  exjicctatinnB,  haA  been 

(0  regarded  him  as  an  ex- 

cuD^equently,  of^en  sat  at  the 

vouth,  not  less  ordiuary  than 

..  :    with  the  charms  of  the   amiable 

-.'re named  her  suitor  the  Knight 

:ut  his  port  was  very  well  for  a 

ftutt  of  him  ! 

.  .^:,  failetl  in  driving  her  awkward 

■jresencc.     The  fact  is,  the  love  of 

-  .^fcc  of  interest,  Master  Hording;  for 

'.kkBt  the  Utter  was  to  receive  a  handsome 

livery  of  his  beautiful  ward  and  her  for-  i 

-vrt  W  ynstone. 

,r"il  in  the  forenoon  in  the  busy  aitles  of  J 

.tr>:ti^a5  a  kind  of 'change,  where  thaf 

-je  ctty  resorted  to  traniiact  their  nfTuirB, —  i 

,.    mt*i^  by  a  smart  page  in  the  livery  of  1 

■^  '<ry«4tone. 

I,"  said  the  page ;  "  I  have  that  to 

limed  Wyndtone. 

f  bands  of  her  page,"  replied  Andrew, 

j^*."*  said  the  elated  suitor.     *•  I  'U  e'en 
.  -««d  il." 
^  j^  better  read  it  first,  and  place  it  in  thy 
^^K  mny,  perchance,  be  some  response  to 

,  aid  read  the  foUuwing  invitation  : — 
/  vespers,  strike  thy  guitar  beneath  my 

_^^J^A  3ia*teT  Gerard,  turning  over  the  laconic 

*.  ^jtrient."  said  Anclrew,  with  a  ro^ish 
*  ^^»^^0ng  *^*"  ^^  other  ha<l  wit  to  com- 

^^^-g^Jicd  Wynstonc.     "  1  'H  not  fail  —  oajr 

^  ^gm,  hU  hand  in  hid  pocket,  playing  with 


»Nt  bi>  ear,  while  bis  arm  was  rude- 


i*^™ 


!"  cried  Andrew.     "  What  strange 
you  pages  are,"  retorted  .Master  . 


TUB    MEBCUANT'S    WARD. 


193 


i^ftlmtine,  a  most  elegant  youth,  and  one  of  those  same  ^a^*  "  yniin|r 
cavHlirrs  who  kisftcd  their  hands  to  Apnes,"  when  she  walker! 
abrcNul,  unci  who  had,  moreover,  very  reimonjible  hopes  that  his  at- 
tentions were  favourably  received.  "  Traitor !  did  I  not  see  thee 
e'en  now  deliver  n  letter  to  yon  dunder-headed  bumpkin  ! — a  walk- 
ing popinjay! — the  mark  of  ridicule,  at  whom  every  finger  points." 
"  I  confess  —  I  confess,"  replied  Andrew  calmly,  "that  1  did  de- 

I liver  unto  his  mo-st  fine  worship  a  letter  indited  by  the  hands  of  my 
bir  mistresa." 
"  And  addressed  to  him  ?  "  cried  Araster  Valentine/ in  jealous  sp- 
hrehension. 
"  Nay,   there  waa  no  address,"  said  Andrew,  "except  in  the  de- 
fivery  thereof." 
I    •*  Then  it  most  have  been  intended  for  me." 
I   **  It  WBH — I  confess  it  wa.f,"  replied  Andrew, 
r   **  And,  darrst  tbou  tell  me  thisj*  "  cried  Master  Valentine^  raising 
bii  walking-suff. 
^—      "Nay,  spare  my  shoulders,"  aaid  the  pa^e,  "for  I  have  spared 
^nbine,  8ir  \  alentinc.  seeing  that  that  very  billet  contained  a  thra»>h- 
^'ing.    I  do  not  allude  to  the  up-strokes  or  the  down-strokes  in  which 
the  fair  hand  of  my  mistrew  hath  writ  the  same;  but,  of  a  verily, 
no  more  nor  less  than  a  sound  drubbing.  Master  Wyn&tonc,  dejiend 
on  't.  will  receive  the  content!)  in  full,  to  his  heart's  discontent." 

"Thou  duubte-lungued,  double-faced  rogue,  explain  this  rid- 
dle!"  exclaimed  Mai4ter  Valentine,  somewhat  oppeascd,  and  sorely 
pazzleiL 

And  Andrew  forthwith  informed  him  that  Agnes  had  scarcely 
gfrritteu  her  letter,  when  her  guardian,  coming  suddenly  in,  had  dis- 
overetl  her  before  »he  had  superscribed  it,  and  that  he  took  the  un- 
forliinnte   billet,  anil,  summoning  Andrew   into  his  presence,  with 
luoek  politeness,  bade  him  instantly  deliver  it  to  the  "gallant  suitor 
'' Jitstrieaa  Agnes,"  who,  on  her  part  strongly  but  vainly  protested 
_  "     :  this  arbitrary  proceeding.     But  the  page  on  his  way  over- 
bearing Ilardinge  inform  the  sturdy  porter  ot  his  establishment  that 
^^IB  lUkpected  "  there  might  be  nn  intruder  in  the  court  that  night," 
^^pnd  ordering  him  to  prepare  a  coujile  of  &tout  nnken  staves  to  give 
^B)htm  a  "  welcome,"  he  had  taken  the  liberty  to  peep  into  the  un- 
furlunate  epistle,  and  wisely  concluding  from  its  ambiguous  terms 
that   it  might  suit  Master  Wynstone  as  well   (or  better,  under  the 
circtimiitjincek,)  as  Aluster  \''aientine,  he  had  <ninningly  delivered  it 
accordingly,  vowing  that  he  really  knew  no  other  gallant  suitor,  or 
M  such  acknowledged  at  the  house,  than  the  aforesaid  Alaster  Wyn- 
stone. 

7*be  lover,  of  course,  loudly  applauded,  and  amply  rewarded  the 
•droit  and  faithful  Master  Andrew,  who,  gleefully  putting  up  Oie 
wcU-camed  nobles,  declared  that  "  really  serving  two  musters  was 
not  only  very  easy,  hut  extremely  pleasant  and  pro&table  withal," 

Thr  appointed  hour  at  length  arrived  ;  and  with  it  the  delighted 
Ifaater  Wynslone  and  hia  music,  quite  perfect  in  a  most  bewitching 
I       wrcnade,  as  crammed  with  coticeita  as  a  wedding-cake  with  confeC' 
Mtiooar}-. 

^V     Th«  dimr  of  the  courtyard  stood  "  grinning  "  raoat  invitingly  open, 
rod  be  stepped  in. 

But  Karcrly  had  he  struck  on  attitude  and  his  guitar,  and  war* 


-^   -EK£E    EPOCHS. 

-    — E  -sarra  of  his  amatory-  ditty,  when  his 

-:—  <<-iail  or  shriek,  which  ran  throuf^h 

a,j.   _■-;   ■  zjTitions  altogether  quite  novel  in  the 

~^—.i^  j:j_-.iiiipe,  aided  bv  his  porter,  fell  so 

.  :"::ni:.^  Knig:ht  of  the  \\'oo(len   Caxkt  that 

ii.::.   ^\io  rushed  pell-mell  into  the  court. 

_  ;:■">.  :\v  the  light  of  which  the  astonished 

— .   :he  woeful   features  of  his  most  dear 

.  --"e-.;.  he  led  the  tender  lover  (tender,  at 

^    ■:   !:ad  received,)  into  his  mansion,  and 

-      ■-  -x''KiIll. 

uc"-'  of  trouble.     Agnes,  Beatrice,  and 

.^      Kfi'ortf  the  merchant  obtained  any  tidin^^ 
.vi:   111   applicant,   in   the  person   of  Master 
ii-s"-i  upon  the  guardian  in  the  character  of  his 
Luueuiate  arrangement  of  her  affairs. 


■  S  THREE  EPOCHS. 

A    B\LLAD. 
I. 

.-.  but  a  tkiolntr  slirim  , 
-   ■:i^hislia(li;  ami  licnilocl;  entwine  ; 
m:  :Iity  weave;  are  nil  wrt  with  llic  tears 
'  .'w.  ■-  tlie  tombs  of  piL-it  vt-ars  .' 
-,  •  t."  sir.iy  witlitrM  fiowers  may  l>c  seen, 
■.  .■«,  Willi  thoir  vtTiliin?  slill  j^n'oii  : 
»    :  i-k.  ilrtary,  ilcsoliire  halls, 
-,  I'li^^rim  who  calls. 


-•<■.   /     A  wilihrnpss  wiflp, 
-  ••N  js  r.ist  as  the  tiowLT  hy  its  sidp. 
■  ■.n[  Llossnms,  p<i(.)r  cliiliiri-ii  of  tl.iy, 
.  .    V  niiy  will  sunn  fiidi'  ;i«;iy  .' 
»;;:isinni.'  yoiir  pathway  may  li.;ht, 
.-, -.vr'd  liy  storm  tie  tin;  iir^ht : 
.  ■■•IS  <lull  ]ilanet  i>f  (lllr^  ; 
I,-.  t!ic  sake  (if  its  iiuwcrs  ! 

Ml. 

■  ..  ■     Morv  hhst  it  woiilil  >;i:tm 
.    ^  •   'y  Viifriiiirh  ■iaw  in  his  dn  ,un  ! 
,,  .  "i-"! — an  t'Xi]ni>it('  Mplii-rc — 
.»       .'o  not  sPt'k  for  it  hin  ! 
'J     .    -;  -111-  il.snlat.-  Viiit— 
,   .        -."t  flowiT-i  vhili-  ffm/  li'it  : 
-  -c    i^Kit  liri'jlit  Iii'inililiil  sluTc, 
"     .1    irt'  rcmnnbcird  nn  innn'! 

W  .  I'.itw.iisns  SkaIiI  . 


105 


JOURNAL  OP  OLD  BARNES,  THE  PANTALOON, 

ON   A   TRIP   TO    PABIS,    1830l 


"  At  nine  '  apparlcmeuis  li  laucr  garni '  out  of  ten  tliev  refiiaed  to 
Uke  ua  and  our  tricka  in ;  so  I  told  Seymour  to  carrj-  his  u-indmill 
buck  to  the  hotel,  nnd  Runaldson  to  follow  him  n-itb  the  pro}>erty 
nriuiii ;  and  presently  1  had  tlic  uitisfaction  to  see  Seymour  blown 
round  the  corner,  irindmiU  and  all. 

"  Harlequin  now  came  to  us,  and  we  succeeded  in  hiring  lodging. 
Utflequju  (the  Jew-Frenchman)  introduced  me  to  his  ^vife.  Looked 
like  a  screw,  though  he  iufurmed  me  that  she  was  the  betit  of  crea- 
tan^  Slade  au  agreement  to  lodge  and  board  with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Har- 
lequin, and  returned  to  the  hotel  to  pay  our  bill.  Great  mw  with 
the  Lidies  about  the  chargcH:  very  extravagant.  Swore  cuntuderaldy 
in  English,  and  made  them  take  off  one-third  of  the  amount.  Did 
the  hotel-keeper,  as  I  found  he  wanted  to  do  me.  I  puid  him  in  Kng- 
liah  •hiUioESf  inatead  of  francs ! — ha  !  ha  '.  Off  to  our  new  apartments, 
39,  Rae  Cfaanee  d'Antan.  No  dinner  ordered.  'Hiat  looked  rather 
omiDoiu  as  regarded  the  boarding  part  of  the  business.  Cnivc  the 
screw  a  scrutinising  glance,  and  went  to  Mr.  Wood's  to  dinner.  Good 
English  dinner,  liottletl  porter,  .St.  Kmiliun  wine,  and  gnig  to  qiialif\'. 
Stayed  till  evening,  laughing  and  talking.  Told  them  how  I  served 
EUar,  tlie  harlequin,  who  came  over  here  with  me  6ve  years  ago,  and 
m  livetl  togi'tlier  in  the  house  of  a  Aliulame  Hambayet.  (>ood  old 
crMtarel  we  were  both  in  love  with  her.  I  believed  I  pretended 
more  than  I  really  felt,  or  I  Ahould  never  have  got  my  stockings 
mended  ;  but  I  found  out  that  she  liked  KUar  tlic  better  of  the  two. 
She  had  seen  his  neat  ligiire  in  the  patched  jacket,  and  that  had 
tickled  her  fancy.  1  was  jealous — as  moAt  pantaloons  are, — and  I  hit 
upon  an  tngentuus  and  diabolical  expedient  to  disgust  Madame  Bam- 
bayct  with  Ellar.  I  succeeded.  She  looked  ujHtn  him  with  horror 
ever  afterwards.  The  pantomime  in  wluch  we  both  played  at  the 
theatre  had  a  great  rtin  ;  it  was  the  first  English  pantomime  that  had 
been  carried  over  there  for  many  years,  consequently  we  hud  no  rc- 
hMn*U  after  it  was  produced,  ana  nothing  to  occupy  our  time  in  the 
aoming ;  so  .sometimes  we  used  to  amuse  ourselves  hv  going  to  St. 
Cload*  and  angling  in  the  Si'ine.  where  we  caught  a  sort  of  gudgeon. 
Our  bttit  was  a  box  of  gentles  ;  and  this  b(tx  was  kept  with  our  otiier 
tackle  in  the  closet  of  our  double-bedded  room.     One  night  it  so  hap- 

erned  that  I  came  home  earlier  than  usual.  I  had  quarrelled  with 
Uar  about  this  same  Madame  Bambayet.  So,  when  I  got  in,  out  of 
revpnge,  I  boldly  emptied  the  contents  of  tho  gentle-box  into  Ellar'ti 
bed.  underneath  the  sheet ;  got  into  my  own  bed,  and  pretended  to  go 
la  oiccp.  Ellar  soon  came  home,  and  retired  to  rest.  1  chuckled  ;  fr>r 
I  karw  that  Madame  Bambayet  would  como  into  our  room  the  first 
thing  in  the  morning,  to  gee  whether  we  wanted  anytliing.  i^Iailame 
4id  come  in  ;  and,  peering  about,  she  saw  wlmt  she  did  not  quite  nn- 
daratand :  those  gentles  that  found  Mr.  Kllar's  bed  too  warm  for  them 
had  made  their  way  on  to  the  sinning  tile-floor,  and  there  were  hun- 
dndj  of  them  hopping  and  rolling  in  all  directions.     She  exclaimed 


196    JOURNAL  OF  OLD  BARNES,  THE  PANTALOON. 

'Grand  Dieu.'  ques  oue  c'e«t?'      Kllnr  was  usleep ;    m  I    quietly^ 
p<iiiilp<l  tt)  him,  Hiid  said,  '  He  could  not  help  it,  Bitt  he  nai  subject  fo 
them  ! '     Oh  !  I  wish  you  could  Lave  seen  the  look  of  horror  deptcte 
on  the  old  lady's  physiognomy!      *  Ah  !  les  vilaines  betes  I'      FAUti 
wflkin^,  iind  raising  himself  up,  sluKtk  otf  itnotber  hundred,  and  Ma 
dnijti^  Bambayet  hastened  as  quickly  ns  possible  out  of  the  room. 

"  When  I  Went  down  stitira  tlie  old  Indy  proposed  sendinj;  for  a  me- 
dical man ;  but  I  told  her  '  it  was  of  no  use  ;  that  it  was  aU  over,  aud 
Af  r.  KILir  was  only  troubled  that  way  three  or  four  times  a  yetLr>  and 
that  it  was.  a  ^reot  relief  to  his  cnnKtitutinn. 

"  I  settled  his  business  with  Madame  Bambayet,  for  she  never  paid 
him  any  attention  ufterwards,  aud  did  nut  wonder  at  his  always  look* 
ing  DO  |>ale ;  in  fact,  she  was  ^lad  when  he  was  gone ! 

"  I  went  home  about  ten  o'clock  to  my  new  apartment  (do|»-hoIe)^ 
which  Jlre.  Jew- Frenchman-Harlequin  was  to  cet  ready  for  me,  or,- 
more  properly  apenklng,  a  clothea  cupboard,  into  which  they  had^ 
crammed  a  lHKlstead>  table,  choir,  washing-stand,  so  that  I  could  hardly 
turn  myself  round.  Grumbled  to  rayi^elf,  hut  quite  loud  enough  fur 
my  hostess  to  hear  me.  Got  into  bed  gnim])ling,  and  endeavoured  to 
go  to  sleep;  but  a  sort  of  French  ladrhird,  called  'pvnaiset,'  (dic- 
tionary,) attacked  me  at  all  points,  and  I  was  obliged  to  get  up  in  my 
own  defence,  and  slay  away  as  fast  as  possible.  This  amusement 
lusted  till  daylight,  about  three  o'clock,  when  they  sounded  a  retreat; 
and  glad  enough  I  was  to  observe  their  numbers  disappear.  By  de- 
grees I  so  far  got  them  under  that  I  fell  into  a  sort  of  slnmber  till 
seven ;  when  I  disturbed  my  hostess  and  her  spouse,  and  ColumbtnaJ 
and  her  momma,  to  breakfast.  Queer  breakfast  for  boarders:  weakj| 
watery  coffee,  stale  bread,  no  eggs,  not  a  bit  of  cold  meat.  *  How  did 
you  rest  ?  '  inquired  mir  landlady. — *  Oh/  replied  Columbine's  mamma, 
'  charmingly.  I  am  delighted  that  we  are  out  of  that  nasty  hotel.  We 
feel  quite  another  thing.'  — '  And  pray,  Jlr.  Barnes,  how  did  you 
sleep  }  I  hope  you  found  everything  comfortable  ?  '— *  Verj-,'  said  I  ; 
'  but  I  n'ish  I  had  stayed  at  the  hotel,  instead  of  coming  here  to  be 
eaten  up  alive." — '  What  ?  'said  the  hostess,  '  eaten  up  !  I  am  ^ure  we 
slept  beautiful;  and  I  did  not  feel  or  see  one :  there  is  not,  1  am  sure, 
a  single  punaUc  in  the  place.'  — '  Aladam/  said  I  gravely,  *  tliere  may 
not  be  a  iingle  one  in  the  place  ;  but  I  assure  von  that  there  are  many 
married  ones,  ay,  and  w»/A  vrrtf  large  Jhmiiirs'  As  a  proof.  I  re- 
quested her  to  inspect,  and  make  a  report  of  the  desperate  navoc  I  bad 
made  among  such  a  host  of  nightly-marauding,  btooa-tbirsty  sleep-de- 
stroyers. ]  now  made  up  my  mind  to  be  iieremptory ;  and  if  tbingi 
were  not  put  into  comfortable  order,  that  I  would  imitate  another 
actor, — that  I  would  be  Afr.  Decamp.  I  saw  by  the  sodden  t^dukle 
of  the  Jew- Frenchman's  eye  that  he  did  not  want  to  lose  me  as  • 
boarder  aud  lodger,  and  the  screw-driver  glanced  at  the  screw !  Har- 
lequin looked  at  lits  wife.  "Everything  shall  be  quite  right,  depend 
uiMm  it,  to-night,  Mr.  Barnes.' — *  I  am  not  to  be  caught,'  says  I. — 
*  We  will  catch  everything,'  replied  my  hostess.  1  was  still  sulky  ;  I 
had  not  been  pleased  with  what  they  called  brcuk^t.  I  had  been 
offered  some  very  shy  coffee.  I  like  tea  better.  I  said  so ;  hut  the 
next  morning  it  had  not  improved — in%teod  of  vhy  coffee  we  had  shy 
tea.  Upon  my  hinting  that  I  should  take  up  my  future  quarters  at 
Air.  WwhI's  house  of  entertainment,  ^Irs.  Harlequin  winked  to  her 
husband,  (as  she  fancied,  unperceived  by  me,}  nod  with  an  iuftiaualing 


JOURNAL  OF  OLD  BARNES,  THE  PANTALOON.    197 

iDiDe,  said,  '^G-  ,  dear,  let  u-s  Iinve  a  very  nice  dinner  to-day-' — 
'  V«,  mr  lore,'  replied  the  Jew. — '  Well,  then,  go  to  the  restiuniteur's, 
Ukd  order  some  of  their  nicest  thin^,  you  Icnow.  Perhaps  Mr.  Barnes 
wvald  walk  with  you ;  and  then  lie  will  tell  you  what  he  likes  lest. 
Aad,  dear,'  (here  they  huih  winked  again,)  '  be  sure  to  go  to  Moni«ieur 
Alalftsteqnc's,  the  u-ine-merchant,  and  let  us  have  some  good  wine.' 
Sc  harlequin  putted  mc  on  the  shoulder,  accomjunying  that  friendly 
action  with  the  tatiiiCiictory  words, '  Never  mind,  Jemmy,  my  boy ! 
ererytfaing  «]iall  be  all  right  to-night.  I  will  take  care  of  that.' — 
'  YoH  take  care  of  that,'  iuiid  my  landlady.  'Impassible!  mv  dear. 
You  hare  got  to  go  round  to  all  our  tradespeople.  Perhaps  Mr.  Barnes, 
as  I  said  before,  will  go  with  you.  It  will  be  a  nice  little  walk  fur 
InDi.  So,  go  you  and  see  after  the  wine  and  the  brandy,  (aud  here  she 
laid  particular  emphasis,)  and,  depend  upon  it,  when  you  are  at  Mr. 
Ualuteque'i,  and  give  uur  ouder*  (another  wink^  and  1  winked  too, 
I  soppoM  by  sympathy,)  '  you  will  botli  be  sure  to  have  a  glass  of 
good  wine  or  brandy.' 

"  Xow  waa  1  placed  in  the  hands  of  these  two  instruments.  I  found 
one  to  be  a  harpy,  and  the  other  a  iiar  (I  'm  afraid  I  have  nut  s{ielt 
tbcK  wtirds  correctly)  ;  but  they  both  knew  that  1  had  an  engagemen 
of  eight  pounds  a  week,  and  they  meant  to  suck  four  out  of  it.  Uut 
the  proof  of  the  pudding  came  in  the  eating.  Breakfast  ivos  bad 
enongh.     Now  I  will  recapitulate  the  dinner — ahem  ! 

"  The  cloth  was  laid.  I  begiin  to  hum  a  little  air,  for  I  did  not  like 
tte  look  of  it.  I  am  much  mixtiiken  if  it  was  not  one  of  the  ttheetii  that 
•one  of  us  had  slept  in  (not  mine;  'Aa/ 1  could  verify  by  the  corpses  of 
the punauet).  I  thought  of  Columbine's  mamma!  However,  said  I 
lo  UTsclf,  "  Barnes,  cut  your  coat  according  to  your  cloth!"  Tried 
the  iron  blades  of  the  knives ;  there  was  not  one  that  would  carve  a 
cnraipet.  Presently  there  was  placed  on  the  table  a  piece  of  lean, 
boUeo-to-death  mcut,  which  they  dignified  ^vith  the  name  of  beef ;  but 
which  looked  to  mc  more  like  the  flesh  of  a  Tothill-ficlda  donkey ! 
Thin  was  accompanied  by  a  large  mesa  of  mashed  uniims.     The  beef 

twlldl  into  strips  —  for  the  knives  would  not  go  through  it;  and  it 
laving  previously  done  its  best  to  enrich  soup  for  somebody  el.io,  it 
was  about  as  nourishing  as  a  Iniiled  wontted-stocking  would  be.  Then 
eun«  what  they  called  a  fricandeatt  de  veau,  aus  ^jnnards ;  but 
wkich  rowmblea  the  upper  part  of  a  man's  arm,  with  a  hundred  drawn 
tretfa  fetuck  in  it,  aud  laid  in  a  hod  of  dark-gretm  slime:  when  I  was 
Informed  that  it  was  veal  larded  with  bacon,  and  spinach^  I  thought 
Ibst  tbe  real  bad  spoiled  the  bacon,  and  the  bacon  bad  ruineil  the 
fCftl^  and  both  had  gammoned  the  spinach.  Thoy  then  brought  some- 
dlio^  which  1  ioiagined  to  be  soap,  but  they  said  it  was  cheeae  ;  and 
it  WDold  have  puzzled  any  liteniry  savan  to  have  exactly  defined  its 
quality.  Then  Ciime  the  drinkables  — fin  ordinaire.  I  alwiiys  before 
aad  tlmught  the  words  were,  lin  an  diner.  It  vras  sorry,  rot-gut  stuff; 
fintr  glaaaes  would  make  you  xnclanchuly ;  eight  would  sour  you  for  a 
wsdu  Tbe  best  part  of  tbe  meal  was  some  strawberries ;  but  1  never 
too^  them. 

I  bwan  to  compare  myself  to  a  ship  in  war-time,  and  thought  that 
I  wnM oaardcd hy  the  enemy;  at  any  rate  I  had  comnluints  to  make 
■gaiiial  tke  viciualUng  department.  Went  out  after  this  splendid  £sre, 
witk  crnmbling  giszards-  In  the  Tuileries  Oardens  accidentally  met 
Mr.  Mudpole,  witli  his  washing-book  in  his  bond.     He  had  been  all 


198 


JOURNAL  OF  OLD  BAKNBS,  THE  PANTALOON. 


orer  Pun's,  as  he  told  me,  studying  xoolt^,  ophiologr,  ichthyoloj^y*  or- 
nJtbuln^%  entomolugy,  geolugy,  coiich()I<igy,  minernIfigT,  althon^h  hU 
fuvuuritu  punuit  waij  l/ie-nUy^y.  He  had  been  inspecting  the  gohetttu 
till  he  was  afl  pole  as  a  ghost.  He  bad  aI»o  in^ipccted  Versaitltn^  and 
declared  thut,  though  he  bad  been  delighted  with  the  allt^rtcal,  my- 
thulogicul,  and  blHloricid  statues^  the  perplexing  labyriiitbtr,  the  fbum- 
iirg  cuscadvs,  &nd  the  disporting,  leapuigly,  frolicsume  gold  and  silver 
fish,  yet  bi^  mind  was  irresiistibly  directed  to  contemplate  iiwhile  the 
Nebuchadnt'Zzar-like  spirit  which  murt  have  prompted  Jjouh  the  Four- 
teenth in  the  erection  of  a  palace  so  voluptuous,  and  who,  uuder  the 
ambitiouH  influence  of  a  vanity  analogous  to  that  of  the  Kaatem  m(H 
narcb,  whenever  he  surveyMl  the  greatnp&t  and  extent  of  mi  mighty  a 
project  in  the  completion  of  so  splendid  and  gorgeous  a  stnicture,  with 
vaunting  am^ance,  in  effect,  would  soliluquixe,  '  Is  not  this  great  Ba- 
bylon which  1  have  built,  for  the  houst^  uf  my  kingdom,  by  the  might 
of  my  power,  and  for  the  honour  of  my  majesty?'  Aludjxile  soon 
talked  me  off  to  Wood's ;  previously  to  which  he  asked  me  to  take  the 
trouble  to  read  a  part  of  the  preface  to  his  journal,  which  he  had 
merely  sketched.  I  begged  that  he  wutUd  allow  me  to  take  the  paper 
home,  as  I  could  not  read  in  the  ojten  uir  without  my  spectacles. 

"  When  I  opened  it,  it  rnn  thus  :— '  In  ihc  prestnialion  of  the  sub- 
sequent journal,  the  writer  humbly  and  deferentially  craves  indulgence 
for  tliat  deliciency  which  he  may  e-xliibit  of  grammutic:il  correctness  or 
svntactical  propriety  and  precision.  He  is  readily  inclined  to  believe 
that  his  delineations  will  Ufipear  much  after  the  same  infelicitous  con- 
dition with  those  of  tiie  unaided  etfusions  of  an  uninspired  and  unini- 
tiated scribbler,  whose  tboughta  had  never  been  impregnated  by  a 
draught  from  the  sacred  stream  Uiat  laves  the  fabled  mount  of  Heli- 
con, or  favoured  with  the  requisite  attiatus  or  impulses  of  the  augu&t 
and  venerated  Nine,  and  whom  genius  in  fiction  has  ever  been  wont  to 
invoke  as  the  dispensers  of  wisdom,  and  as  the  beneficent  and  befriend- 
ing pairone«aes  of  all  who  in  this  manner  beseech  their  auspicious  , 
favour/ 

"  I  read  thia  over  once  or  twice ;  but  I  confess  it  recalled  to  my 
recollection  the  spinavh!  Went  home  to  my  lodging  sulkily,  merely 
to  see  what  sort  of  society  1  was  likely  to  expect,  tound  Columbine 
and  her  mamma,  Mr.  and  Airs.  Harlequin,  and  a  personage  I  had  not 
been  intrtHluced  to  before,  a  large  while  poodle  dog  as  big  as  a  slieep,  < 
who  looked  as  if  he  took  a  great  deal  of  Scotch  snntf  in  both  his  eyet. 
He  hiul  been  ;isleep  all  day,  which  accounted  for  my  not  seeing  him. 
Well,  home  I  went,  in  the  hopes  of  pajuing  an  agreeable  evening  ;  but, 
somehow  or  other,  there  was  not  any  cunvenution  going  on.  I  tried  to 
start  it  once,  but  in  vnin  ;  so  I  sat  twiddling  my  thumbs.  Presently 
the  poodle,  who  resti-d  his  mwe  on  the  table,  opened  wide  his  jaws,  and 
gaped  awfully.  This  the  unimal  did  a  second  and  third  timeu  It 
became  infectious  ;  for  Columbine's  mamma  extended  her  mouth  al* 
moat   as  wide,  which  was  sympatlieti cully  followed   by  her  dutiful 

[  daugliter.  This  made  Airs.  Jew  Frenchman  gape  also,  which  canaed 
Harlequin  to  stretcli  his  jaws  and  legs  at  the  same  time.     This  they 

'  fiU  repeated.  I  became  uneasy,  and  determined  nut  to  be  guilty  of  the 
same  rudeness ;  but.  Lord  !  the  d — d  poodle  looked  at  mc  wisifullv  in 
tlie  face,  and  yawned  again  so  wide,  that  off  I  went,  and  the  whole 
party,  dug  and  all,  continued  ^ping  fur  two  hours.     Now.  this  wm 

,  what  1  uiU  a  pkuaaut  evening.     I  tried  this  several  other  times ;  bat 


JOURNAL  OF  OLD  BARNBS,  THE  PANTALOON. 


199 


it  WM  alvay «  tbe  snme,  and  the  fumily  circle  vawncd  everlantingly. 
u>  bruke  in  upmi  my  diimt'.siic  ctiinfoiis,  that  1  waa  compelled  to  U 
rly  lo  Air.  Wood'^Jmidiry  for  society. 


f> 


"V( 


''^'G^:^ 


A- 


\i- 


'$9uuii  uur  pantomime  tvas  re:i(ly  at  the  tlieatre,  and  with  great  note 
rprvpsntion  out  it  came.  *  Hole  de  Pdntaloon,  par  Monsieur  BaruL's, 
niere  artint  dett  Thentres  Royuiea  de  Londres  ;'  and  I  um  pruud  to 
tlimt  we  ^ve^e  iittmctive  :  fur  the  nmniigerwas  not  a  iNinkrupt  until 
we  bad  rfturiied  to  Knghind.  T1il>  audience  received  us  witU 
cnntft-nnd  uttrntiim  ;  none  of  that  noise  nud  whistling,  and  '  Hcy-ho! 
[ Ititiy  Uurruughs,'— '  Throw  him  over,'— uud  '  Order,  order,'  tliut  »alute 
^  jfoor  e«r«  fn»m  the  gentlefolks  who  viwt  our  upper  galleriew.  wbtre  tbe 
ipcnton  ivbo  calJH  nut  '  Silviicf ! '  makett  more  noiia'  than  all  the  rest, 
LftiM]  empty  gingor-)>err  biittli>»>  are  llunu;  at  the  bald  head»  in  tbe  pit. 
Vtio  ;  tJte  people  are  bi'tter  behaved  to  botli  ncturs  and  authors ;  and  if 
n  pmum  UAppeuii  to  be  {rertinaciouslv  tritublesonie  in  any  wuy,  he  is 
tiinled  iMit  of  the  theatre  by  a  gen^d'arme,  in  an  uniform  somewhat 
like  tbat  worn  by  tbe  Oxford  Ulum,  in  Digbtou'ii  time.        *  * 

•  •  •  •  4 

Excitement  of  acting  during  tbe  remainder  of  the  month  ;  took  tiw 

IviBfji  1>nindT  and  water.  lU  :  biliuuti ;  coulil  not  eitt ;  but  compelled 
ill  tumblr  QWiut.  Air.  Mudpole  diHCovi-rt^l  that  I  wiui  a  stnge-phiyer, 
and  cut  me  in  alHimiuution  ;  got  drunk  out  of  spite.  He  Wiut  moved 
by  une  ftjnrit,  I  by  another  ■' 

•  ■  •  •  • 

DiJ  not  continue  my  journal  for  many  days ;  baud  uuKtendy  ;  never 
Itt  any  time   any  grcal  xhaicx  a^  a  writt-r.     Brandy  dua'l  agrM  Willi 
|Bie.      RtmiIti'  to  try  mm  for  u  fuw  duyx. 
Friday- — Oh  !   my  head  !     It  splits  I 
"  Monday.  July  'J'". — Kvcrybody  in  a  pucker,  because  King  Cbarlea 
"^Tmtli,  Frinc**  I'oligimc,  and  Peyroiuiet  huve  taken  it  into  their 
"  I  to  »top  the  liberty  of  the  prebu.    I  baw  the  tM>pulace  go  and  break 


£00    JOURNAL  OP  OLD  BARN£S,  TUB  PANTALOON. 

the  wfndowft  at  the  Treasurv*  and  at  Polignac'g  house.  Btinies,  mj 
boy,  Iiere  will  be  a  row.  OW*rve  what  is  goinj;  <iit,  hut  keep  your 
hetiil  out  of  mischief.  Report  that  the  troops  ore  ordered  into  Puis. 
*  No  writin;;  behiw  iweiity  printed  paj;&t  shall  appear,  except  with  the 
authority  of  the  miuister.  Secretary  of  State  fur  the  Interior  of  Pflrts. 
Writings  published  without  authority  shall  be  immediately  fteised,  the 
presses  mid  types  used  in  printing  tliem  fihitll  be  plaeed  in  a  public 
depftt,  and  under  seals,  or  rendered  unlit  fur  use.'  Hal  ha!  ha! — 
here,  in  1830,  to  issue  such  an  order  !  What  could  Polignac  and  Pey- 
ronnet  be  thinking  about  ?  .-Vs  for  Charles  the  Tenth,  the  priesu  had 
driven  bis  poor  soul  uti  into  a  corner. 

"  Tuesday,  97th  July. — The  National  and  the  Temps,  two  principal 
newspapers,  appeared  as  usual,  without  huv  license,  and  tbry 
printed  nbuut  five  times  as  many  as  was  Ui^ual.  People  reading  the 
mounted  un  chairs  in  all  directions.  Cannon  tired  at  Vinceunes 
alarm  the  populace  early  in  the  morning,"— some  said  they  were  sho 
ing  the-  reporters.  Soldiers  were  marching  into  Paris  all  day. 
tradesmen  began  to  bhut  their  shops ;  and  if  Pulif;nac  and  Pe\TOni] 
hud  shut  up  theirs  then,  much  bloodshed  would  hare  been  spared. 
Columbine's  mamuiu  asked  me  my  opinion,  whether  we  i»houId  be  kept 
prisoners  of  war?  I  told  her  I  did  not  think  it  likely  that  any  one 
would  keep  her.  'l*herc  must  have  been  betwcH^n  four  and  five  thou- 
sand people  in  the  Palais  Royal.    Tltese  were  cleared  nut  by  the  troops. 

Saw  jlr.  W W ,  a  London  gentleman,  I  used  to  know  at  the 

Sans  Pareil  theatre,  a  friend  uf  old  Scott.  He  had  a  specuhition  with 
the  diligences  in  Paris.  He  was  in  a  terrible  stew.  The  mub  had 
taken  three  of  his  coaches  to  barricade  the  street.  He  had  no  re- 
source ;  and  when  the  soldiers  and  populace  be^n  to  fight  in  earnest, 
he  had  the  pleasure  to  see  the  balls  whizzing  through  the  panels  and 
glasses  of  each  uf  his  dillys.  But,  Lard !  tliey  took  sufoa,  tubla,  roll- 
ing-stones, wheel-harrows,  anything  ti>  block  up  the  wav  ;  tbey  ua- 
jiavcd  the  Rue  St.  Honore ;  they  put  the  lamps  out.  "the  soldier* 
tired  on  the  ]>eo]ile,  and  killed  several.  Police  officers  went  to  tbe 
two  newspaper  otHces,  broke  the  doors  open,  and  brought  away  the 
types  and  presses  —  several  devils  (printers')  seized.  Much  firing  of 
guns  in  the  night.  Put  my  bed  on  the  floor,  or  I  sliuuld  sot  have  had 
a  wink  of  sleep.  Heard  a  monstrous  noise,  peeped  out  of  the  window, 
and  SBW  labourers  carrying  about  the  dead  bodies  of  the  men  that  bad 
been  bhot-  Turned  sick,  and  wished  myself  at  the  Crown  and  Cusliion, 
Little  Russell  Street,  Covent  Garden.  Theatres  closeil.  Brought 
home  a  bottle  of  brandv  W'ith  me  from  Wood's,  thank  God!  or  I  dun't 
reallv  know  wliat  would  have  become  of  me. 

"  Early  in  the  murnlng  the  walls  were  all  covered  with  billa  and 
placards,  put  up  by  the  press;  opents  of  police  pulling  them  down 
again.  Seymour  came  up  in  a  funk,  nnd  said  the  mob  were  currying 
about  /ri^r-coluured  flags  iu  all  directions.  The  drums  beat  to  aim, 
and  I  could  scaircely  btaiid  on  my  legs,  1  was  so  nerrous. 

"  How  could  the  ministers  hnve  made  themselves  such  stupid  atnee? 
When  the  row  began,  Prince  Polignac  said, '  Tina  is  nothing.  In  two 
hours  all  will  be  quiet.'  Alack-a-day  t  it  was  quiet  enough  with  sol- 
diers and  populace  too— many  hundreds  of  them.  The  students  of  ibe 
Polytechnic  School  marched  to  the  Post  Office  in  military  order,  and 
mouuled  guard  there.  I  admired  the  young  gentlemeDs  respect  f 
fftleri. 


CONTRASTS    IN    TUB    LrPE  OP    A    POET.  201 

"  Tbe  battle  raged  in  many  qunrters  of  tlie  city.  I  was  witne&a  to  u 
conflict  thut  took  place  at  the  Font  Neuf,  nn  the  Qua!  Aqh  Augustias. 
The  people  drove  a  partv  of  soldiers  into  the  Murche  li  la  Volaille,— 
duck-o-biddy  tuorket  (dictionary),^ — und  continuet)  tiring  upon  them; 
tlir  soldiers  defended  tbemsclves.  Lord  \  to  hear  the  shrieks  of  the 
old  wuuien.  tlit>  ciickling  of  llie  live  cocks  and  hens,  and  the  qiuicking 
«f  the  duckiti  and  the  j^tiblin^  of  the  turkeys,  and,  oh  I  the  smashing  of 
the  crates  of  eggs,  as  the  bullets  went  through  them.  M;iny  u  poor 
old  fat  poultry  wife  fell  with  her  face  iii  her  own  giblets  ;  and  several 
Ixukets  gf  liberated  pigeons  were  dashing  about  iu  oil  directions.  And 
when,  at  the  climax,  ihe  populace  obtained  a  victory  over  the  troops, 
one  hearty  auk  gave  a  prodigiotiH  crow^  which  was  responded  to  by 
fiftr  others  in  ditferent  partM  of  the  market.  I  was  pleatied  with  the 
Oftilic  cocks  !  XupoleonS  eagles  could  not  have  behaved  better.  '  Vive 
la  Libert*^ !   Vive  la  Patrie  ! ' 

"  His  Majesty  Charles  the  Tenth,  perceiving  the  state  of  affairs,  cut 
his  aiick^  and  went  off  with  his  staff  to  Versailles,  the  good  folks  of 
which  huiiiCed  tlie  /W/ir- coloured  Hag  iu  cuinpliment  to  him,  which  be 
took  as  a  bint.  The  ParUians  entered  the  Iloynl  Palace,  and  made 
frvr  with  the  eatables  and  drinkables  they  found  in  it,  also  of  two 
ikocwaod  musket*.  The  King  bolted  with  his  crown-jewels,  and  was 
won  b«ck  at  bisAraJ-quarters,  Holvrood  House,  '  Auid  Heekie,' — olw, 
like  Old  Bumes,  more  frightened  titan  hurt. 

"  Conclusion  of  the  Journal. 

"Janes  Barnrs,  wnripjut." 


CONTRASTS  IN  THE  LIFE  OF  A  POEl'. 

t  eold  af^emtKin  in  December,  flboul  the  middle  t*rro  of  EUiaheth's 
rtifa,  a  young  Mivnlii-r  rcHte  m:r(»4d  the  long  narrow  bridge.  whiiOi  then  all 
but  blockaded  the  Tlmtnej.,  a  little  hetutr  the  !t))ot  where  the  splendid  »truc- 
t«r<  of  Hennie  now  span*  it«  width,  )iierc«d  into  five  arches  of^  nu^sl  magni- 
ftecat  ««cep,  and  bi^^n  ttrcliitcclural  Iwauty.  lie  waH  nbuut  thirty  years  of 
■A,  uf  fine  figure,  and  good  birth,  jtidKint;  from  tlie  Monlero  cap  fuini^iutf; 
With  IU  appearance  of -itudied  neglect  over  liiii  lofty  and  poliahed  forehead, 
fturtiy  concealing  hib  brows,  mid  partly  adding  relief  to  iFia  mttt  expression 
of*  )uun£  and  niaidy  countenance,  in  which  were  easily  tracealde  all  the 
swbic  feelings  of  hia  period  of  life,  and  senliinenlti  ui'  the  etill-reniainin|f 
rItiTidrimiincaa  of  the  time  ;  for  a  Queen  wati  then,  an  now,  regn.mt,  and 
the  age  of  the^e  plorious  and  ennobling  sentimenta,  the  daughters  of  chival- 
rj,  hod  not  >et  quite  paitited  attay. 

Si)ihiuif  while  hill  rapid  glance  caught  the  towers  that  frowned  above  the 
huk-i-overed  WNterv  to  hta  left,  with  a  itentimenCnot  unlike  that  apparently 
CKBaalewi  feeling  which  we  have  all  sometime  or  other  experienced  under 
■bnibr  drcumfttaoces — that  fore- shadow  log  of  the  future  which  telU  of 
oowamc  evil,— he  punued  hiK  leisurely  coarw  mtoks  the  traject  uf  old  Lon- 
Am  Bridge  i  and,  when  he  had  reached  itit  Miuthern  extremity,  turning  up 
the  Bankkide,  spurred  the  rouula  into  the  noble  liarb  on  which  he  was 
riJinf .  dirrciing  bin  head  towards  the  Globe  theatre. 

H«  rallo(»ed  rapidly  by  the  ftorrftfw  —  for  it  waa  ittll  aomewhat  of  day 
.—  •loQchintf  hi*  cap  rather  rnure  rloxely  than  before,  last  he  should  be  seen 
by  aoy  of  their  innatea,  and  huled  thua  early  in  the  afWaooa  by  his  nauM 


ftm 


CONTRASTS   IN   THB    LIFE   OP    A    POET. 


In  the  piililio  w»v ;  he  did  not  even  del^  n  pUnce  at  tlie  vell^nown   _„ 

the  C'lirdinara  lint,  —  one  which  he  wiis  in  the  hiihit  of  rrequrntin^,  —  but 
nnle  pn*t  it  with  inrrpiuii'd  mnidity ;  »nd  ]>s^^iiijr  the  Hear  (iarden  and  the 
Kofic,  prepared  to  dismount  heneitth  the  Atliist  supporting;  u  (ihihe,  under 
which  was  inscribed  that  motto  which  su^i^ested  to  its  gri^atei^t  frequenter 
one  of  the  most  beautiful  paasBges  of  his  wurk^ : — 

'•Total  mimdiiii  ngit  histrionem." 

Alif^htinK  in  the  niidnt  of  a  iTowd  of  gnllants  lod  hither  on  the  Bamc 
errand  with  himself  —  the  purauit  of  pleasure, —  he  looked  around  for  a  boy 
to  whom  he  (thouhl  entru^it  ihecnre  of  hix  hor>ie,  while  he  witno»M.Ml  (he  per- 
furmanee  of  the  duy,  which  he  saw,  from  the  large  imnounfiup'-piii»er  affixed 
to  the  wall  hc'^de  the  entnmce,  wa^  Marter  Heywood'-i  then  popular  tra|^ 
dy  of  "  The  Rape  of  Liicreoe."  I-'or  some  time,  however,  his  twairh  was  in 
vnin  ;  fur  there  wai;  h  crowd  uf  nobles  and  folhiwurs  of  the  court  about  the 
theatre,  and  far  the  space  of  some  minutes  he  could  not  see  disenf^tufed  any 
of  the  IftdH  uf  the  clow  he  was  seeking,  so  fully  occupied  were  they-  While 
thus  delayed,  he  saw  a  second  ravtUier  in  the  same  predicament,  who  imnie- 
diately  afrpronched,  und  addressed  him. 

"  What !  Waller !  you,  Um,  hurt*  '■  I  thouf^ht  yon  were  one  of  thofie  in- 
vited to  attend  her  Majesty  on  the  Oreenwieh  party  to-dny.  Vou  should 
not  so  wtoii  h;ive  forgotten  your  rare  ffood  fortune.  A  velvet  rliwik.  and  » 
well-tihapfvl  Ipg,  have  nuule  you  at  nnCB  the  ruyal  favourite,  and  won  a  prise 
for  which  the  whole  court  has  long'  been  vainly  sighing  '  Why  thus  abeoDt 
yourself  fr<im  the  smiles  of  the  royal  I*iii?  " 

"  Huiih  .'"whiitpered  he  whowa»  thiin  addre^ised:  "  feAr  you  not  tbat  aorae 
of  the  court-gallants  may  hear  you,  and  falsely  report  to  our  mistress ;  nay. 
may  Kuy  that  «e  opokt^  lighttv  and  jejitin^ly  of  her  favours?  Tliat,  yuu  well 
know,  with  her  would  be  nothing  less  than  treason  ;  for,  :dthougli  a  queen, 
ahe  is  also  a  woman  ;  and  they  are  all  alike  sensitive  when  touched  in  the 
tender  point." 

"  What,  man,  would  i/on  have  her  more  or  leea  than  woman?"  was  the 
rjirelessly  haznrdcd  rejily  ;  "think  you  were  she  either,  that  your  ulight 
aerviee  would  have  been  ro  rewarded  ?  Easex  will  improve  the  opportunity 
of  your  uh&oncc  ;  for  I  heard  uf  the  Queen's  quarrei  with  him  the  »»lber  day 
while  yon  Htnod  in  the  presence-chamber,  and  he  abused  you  to  her  faoe^ 
Nay,  hark  I  fenr  fitit;  1  »ee  you  would  interrupt  me.  But  to  me  it  appear* 
not  sufficient  that  you  nhould  have  amnneoora,  Walter :  you  muttt  go  on." 

**  Bemember  ynu,  I  pr»y,  of  whom  it  is  ytm  speak  thus,  and  where  it  is 
we  wait.'* 

"  Nonsense  !  **  was  the  reply ;  "  none  of  your  wise  saws  fur  me.  See  vou 
not  that  we  are  ko  far  alone  that  none  can  overhear  a  word  between  us.  Fur- 
get  not  the  ariHwer  Hhe  made  you  at  U'hitehall  when  you  bcraped  your 
moping  on  the  glats  with  your  ring  : — ■ 

*  Fain  would  I  climb,  but  that  I  fear  to  fsH  ;  * 

and  she  with  her  diamond,  that  some  1  wot  of  are  so  far  gone  in  lore  m  Io 
aay  only  shares  the  lustre  of  her  eye,  replied  to  your  des|>onding— > 

*  ir  that  thou  fear,  then  climb  tlioii  not  ac  all.' 

WhBi  thinkest  of  that  for  encouragement,  man  ?  " 

"  Again  I  nay  bush  !  "  answureil  Kaletgh,  fur  ho  it  was  who  thus  addr 
the  Karl  of  Southampton.  "  How  soon  it  has  trnmipired!  I  thouubt  my 
(fracious  mistress's  encouragement  had  not  yet  travelled  beyond  the  intnte* 
diate  atteridantK  \*{  the  Queen  ;  but  so  it  is  ever.  £nvy,  not  love,  no  doubt, 
liaa  noised  it  abroad  thus  rapidly." 

While  the  knighta  held  Ihia  converse  they  saw  approach   a   youth  of 

ftrepouening  appearance,  with  n  countenance  incUning  in  the  rlaaaical  out- 
ine,  and  in  whose  features  jvpoaed  the  clemenu  in  which  the  sttui  som** 
times  manifMta  itaelf  tberej  wnile  bia  eye  spurkJed  with  oil  those  evideno 


I 


I 


CONTRASTS    IN    THE    LIPK   OF  A    PORT.  203 

«f  gmini  that  poets  and  painters  delight  to  detect  or  tmnfrinp  in  that  fipeak- 
iaconran  of  tlio  mind  within.  Itowerin^  his  cap  with  tnucli  gracefuJaew 
M  BB  camp  up,  he  thiw  lieapnl<i!  their  farour  :  — 

"  Noble  CAvalit>n,  shall  I  have  the  pride  ta  taiy  that  I  have  held  the  horaei 
f  tbemofit  gallant  Italei^h,  and  the  princely  Earl  of  Southampton?" 

"Said  I  not,"  whispered  the  rormer,  aiiiide  to  his  companion,  *' that  we 
hail  iwed  of  caution  in  what  we  said  here  ?  You  find  that  we  are  known  even 
lo  DieM  ra^cgedlinp." 

**  We  were  seekinfc  a  bo^  to  hold  our  horses ;  Bay,  are  you  tntstwnrthjr?  " 

i"  Master  Allevn  wiUtipeak  for  m?,"  was  the  youlh'it  hrieTruply. 
1    **  Tbou  art  of^Moster  Alleyn'a  acquaintance!,  then  ?  " 
I    "  Yet,  mart  mihle  ;  he  anil  I  have  poMoed  Mine  pleasant  hour^  loyether  at 
|h«  Star ;  he  UiiKhin)^  at  niy  jests,  I  drinkin;^  hi4  canary  and  hippo4;riw : 
■ihich  has  had  the  better  Uar(;uin  boott  not  me  to  say." 
The  twn  horsemen  (jave  him  their  steeds  in  charge  on  the  streoprth  of  the 
■eqnaiutance  he   iiluimed   with  Allevn,  thi*n  in  his  palmipist  repute  at  the 
theetrfe.     And  when  they  remounted,  at  the  close  of  the  iierformnnces, 
tbev  rawarded  him  witli  a  ^oat,  and  an  additional  penny  to  drink  their 

"  There  U  eomethtng  about  that  boy,  wretched  as  is  the  calling  he  now 

nerctMS.  whicli  telU  me  that  he  po^teise^  (fenius,  and  will  tumie  day  have  a 

■una."  said  Southampt^m  to  hii:  rjimpHnion,  lu  they  rattled  homewards  hy 

the  Cron  of  Chepe,  on  their  w.iy  towurd'*  the  hiir  nigh  the  Temple  :  not  far 

fttim  whirh,  on  the  Stmnd,  IkUIi  re-ijded.     "  I  Khali  make  inquiry  after  him 

^^M  tlw  Ulobe  to-morrow  ;  and  if,  as  he  says,  he  he  known  to  Master  AUeyn, 

^■irhy  tkere  ntnst  be  something  good  in  him,  and  be  shall  osll  upon  me  of  a 

^Kiwmiac  at  Soutbamuton  House." 

"  Ki^ht/'  was  Ralei/h'fi  reply.    "  The  lad  does  seem  a  promising  and 
■nartmie,  and  nomething  may  probably  come  of  him." 
Savthainpton  kept  his  word,  inquired  of  Alleyn,  and  the  boy  did  visit  him. 

•  ••■••• 

VMn  had  since  paused  away  nt  the  periml  when  we  resume  the  broken 
Uak  of  oar  sketch.  Queen  Klizaheth  was  keeping  court  ut  her  palace  of 
VtituiMOT,  and  its  magnifir^nt  park  vua  thmnged  with  the  gallants  who  com- 
fomA  it.  The  two  cavaliers,  with  whom  the  reader  has  already  made  ac- 
qvriiMaaae,  formed  part  of  a  iplendid  cort/^e  of  the  lovely  and  the  noble  who 
~— rTTirfH  her  Majesljr,  as  she  rude  through  what  is  now  called  the  Little 
Park, 

Tlwn  was  scarcely  any  difference  even  in  the  minute  features  of  the 
•eeoKiy  throttgh  which  they  passed*  and  thuse  which  it  pre-sents  at  thin  dny. 
Ufsape  of  oakfl.  already  aged,  cast  their  broad  sharlows  on  tlie  cavalcade  as 
)  idooff,  forming  green  umbrageous  vistas,  through  which  thecye  pene- 
\m  bstless  cxiriositv,  and  whfrh  iire  now  only  a  little  more  Kombru  in 
lity  of  their  shaiV;  imd  the  velvety  turf  they  pranced  over,  press^ 
mlrwt  the  hoofs  of  their  coursers. 

Juero  rude  nearly  in  fnmt  of  the  party,  Burrounded  by  her  maids  of 

our,  in  modest  urray,  and  cuilfed  In  a  iimnner  to  hlmme  our  mtxleni  dam- 

,  if  any  attack  on  their  dearest  privilege  of  dressing  themselves,  when 

tklf  id>it,  in  the  least  becoming  manner  cnutd  produce  a  blush  in  them.  A 

iHga  oak,  whose  braociiea  were  beginning  to  Hhuw  Kyniptom^  of  decajr. 

■Itnuted  her  attention  for  a  moment ;  and.  after  a  brief  whisper  to  the  LfMiy 

Aaam  Fitton.  who  nide  on  an  ambling  Shetland  pony  beside  her  lirace,  she 

ed  tM  her  chanibi-rlain  t»  advance  tuwanlH  her.     Me  nbeyed  with  nn 

_^_,'  tlwt  annied  D(mvinringly  of  bis  own  high  opinion  of  tlio  dignity  of 

?■!  vhicli  be  occupied  al>uut  her  Higfaneu's  person. 
aS\  hini  to  ivtue  hither." 
The  rhantberlain  obejed ;  a  gallop  of  a  minute  or  so  brought  bloi  to  the 
ntfft  of  a  group  in  the  rear  ef  the  prinripal  piirty,  gathered  round  a  gentlo 
ui.  tu  whom  all  near  were  livtenlng  with  gratified  attention,     lie  was  nnr- 
[catlng  a  story,  tio«  two  young  lovers,  despite  their  parents'  mutual  and 


coirniASTs  iM  TOB  un. 


A  rocT. 


kar;  laA  W«  tber  hod 
r  tm  bdj-Wre  dead,  and 
4hm  akthrau^  knr«  of 
is  the  Idght  eyes  of  lib 
—  of  the  gepUwDen 

r  Mijtifty  dc^rot  jronr 

.  «•  tke  Qwen.    Bomof 

ciRkM««Bd  EUoabeth. 

nttBg  Wr  fimbcr  plea- 

■«  wilkm  nadi  of  her 
ikaiUK,  pointed  to  tbtt 
=  Uft  Ibl  betheipot— 


i^rtaL  hotnd,  had  roved  tUml  bilk  to  mA  i 
tkpo^^fiaal  niiitake  one  talc«a  po<BH,i 
Am,  un  awaking  from  a  tranee,  aM  f 
hsK,  waoidoot  nrvive  him.    Aad 
JadLf  fineaei*.  and  «iehs  broke  i 
of  ifaat  ontTTinrrfl  party. 

Thtt  Chamt»«rliiin  motioned  to  tl»e  nanal 
nrcoeoce;" — and  both  galloped  togeClMa 
Uwlf  in  hJo  saddle  aa  be  approadiad  tW  i 
be  wfaom  the  had  tliiu  commanded  aear  hia  rta 

MU1*- 

"  Hitber."  said  the  Qupen.  He  obefal.  aaj 
Mafaatf  vbo,  plocinK  Iiit  hantl  famQiariy  •■  haa 
aged  «ak  which  had  jtitit  attracted  her  attcatiaa 
Mvfc  »cU  ita  fealum  j  but  mind  you  do  «M  lA  I 
hwuBed.** 

"  A<  roar  Grace  pleaaeth,  ihall  it  be.—  ev^  aafcr  w  oak  dhall  be  the 
localitr."  And  again  bowing,  he  wtm  about  to  iiiht  aia  fcnaflr  station  in 
tha  fcar.  when  an  indication  and  nod  from  E&Bheik  4eMiaed  him  bf  her 
aide-  flbe  ooarrned  with  him  for  »ume  Uow  aa  AeTi«4e  afeag  together  in 
her  HMal  affable  tuoe,  and  coodeecended  e%-en  tA  pcod  «■!  to  hwobMrtratT 
bMMtiaa  in  Che  Rylvan  way  thruugii  the  midat  of  «hick  thejr  vcro  piwhi„ 
and  hit  ooDTCvae  w««  euMjueoce  it«elf,  to  whkb  tke  ronl  lady  rode  i 
^■Bglittd  liatenar.  The  courtien  envied  him  hia  haafiaaB  m  baring  m  loii|_ 
the  cxdnaive  poaaeaaioo  of  her  Highnws's  car  ;  while  the  eye*  of  the  young'' 
tfaaiacli  of  the  court  Mremed  pleaKed  that  he  Khoald  be  oo  rewarded  by  their 
royal  huly.  t^ide  by  side  did  the  Queen  and  Iter  hieblr-Ckrottred  companiua 
tmu  ride  along  npurt  from  her  tfuite,  both  ttppurcntlT.  to  all  within  power  of 
remaHiing  it,  equally  gratified ;— he  with  the  pride  which  became  one  ao 
highly  honoured,  —  she  with  aensatJons  of  deep  delist  with  his  rich  and 
Tsried  conversation. 

At  the  ludf^  which  led  t«wiirdt<  Datrhet  Ford,  the  Queen  called  to  her 
ladiee  to  approach, after  having  previuuftly  cumutaiided  her  oompunon  todina 
with  her  at  the  Castle,  on  the  conclusion  of  his  afb^mooa'f  ride ;  and  wbm 
all  her  moideiu  had  gathered  round  their  mialreas,  Elixabeth  thus  addrcMed 
the»i. — 

*'  U'e  have  maniiu?d  It  all : — three  merry  wives  of  our  royal  boroogh  wifi 
loug  bare  rea<Mtii  tu  he  proud  uf  what  we  have  this  day  done  for  them." 

•■  H  hilt  meaiieth  your  Ui^hness?  "  vflntured  th«  Ijidy  Anne  Kition. 

"  Oh,  a  secret ;  by  our  royal  word,  a  secret.     But  wait  until  we  go  to  lown^ 
la  rtviaw  our  troops  upon  the  BUckheath;  it  shall  be  all  enacted  for  our 
aniuiameBt." 

Thiti  closed  the  ooDveraatifin.  The  royal  party  dined  together  at  the  Castle, 
Olid  anK)iMC«t  the  most  liiKhly-hnnnuretl  of  the  (ziieHU  was  he  kKo  had  that 
day  bad  the  previous  honour  of  ridin|;  alon^de  Kltzjtheth.     After  dinner^' 
o^uiii  uita  the  alert   rhaiiiberlain   dtM-pntrhed  to   him  by  hi«  roval  mibtreflSi^ 
bukiniig  from  her  own  handd  a  4;ohI(!t  of  clioireMt  Malmasine,  of  which  «he  luidl 
druitk.  to  bu  hestth,  and  H>ked  him  oven  to  pledge  it  in  return,  while  IhaJ 
biuu(iiutli(it;  hall  reMtundtid  with  arclumatioot. 

"  \V.-u<  I  iiMt  right?  "  whispered  Southampton  to  a  cavalier  seated  at  Ih 
1^    ,  I  <.    ,j^,  him,  and  who  a]>io  durinrthat  day  and  at  the  baoi]uet  had  been^ 
by  thi'  Qiu*eir!(  notice.    "  H'aa  I  not  right  when  I  laid  he  wouid 
^.,  ,  .1.- .,  minie?  " 

!'lK*t,"repIied  Itiileich,  to  whom  he  addrpftsed  him«clf.    "  Ths 
Ii:ii>  -vll  dooorveth  his  boiioiini ;  for  he  h.is  got  that  which  earned 

ln«ni  nniure.     I<ong  may  he  live  to  wear  them  !" 
^  t  couipanion  was  the  boy  who  had  drunk  canurv  <  '  '   " 

i«l«>u»  uuti  <ihw  had  held  the  knighti.'  hordes, 


SlIAKSrBAHB. 


.  boy  ' 


£■  Kalioh  Mohan. 


S05 


STANLEY  THORN. 

^r   THK  AUTHOR  OK  "  VALENTINS  VOX." 


CHAPTBR  XX. 

Dwcribt  ilie  perfurmaim  of  ik  Plk&rtoitlc  f«at,  which  IringB  Bob  mto  tempgnry 

trtiuljle. 

At  tlie  appaiotcd  hour  the  following  morning  Stuiiley  called  upon 
Sir  William,  with  a  rieiv  to  iin  arrangt'inent  of  their  books;  and  the 
mult  proved  that  Stiuilev  tiud  lost  tu  Sir  Willium  about  four  thousand 
puundH.  and  had  won  of  Major  Foxe  two  thousand  oight  hundred. 
This  to  Stanley  was  a  most  uiisiatiafactory  result.  He,  of  cuunw,  knew 
before  that  he  had  ]o«t ;  but  he  had  certainly  no  idea  of  being  a  luser 
to  the  extent  of  twelve  hundred  pounds.  He,  however,  appeared  tu 
care  u  little  0.1  possible  about  it ;  and  when  the  honourable  Baronut 
expressed  his  Mirrow  at  having  won  so  much  of  him,  he  entreated  him 
MC  to  fe«l  at  oil  annoyed  at  that  circumstance,  —  which  was  perfectly 
inpererogatory, — and  begged  of  him  to  accompany  him  at  once  to  the 
L'nited  Service,  in  order  to  assist  in  the  settlement  with  Major  Foxe. 
To  this  Sir  William  politely  cunnented,  und  they  repaired  to  the 
United  Serrice,  and  incitiireu  for  Alajor  Foxe  of  the  pifrter.  Major 
Foxe  t  Why,  of  course  lie  was  not  there  !  Of  course  they  knew  no- 
Uiiog  uf  Iiim !  —  of  course  he  did  not^  and  never  did  belong  to  the 
tOBb! 

'  Why,  surely  the  fellow  could  not  have  assumed   that  name  to 
eire  UK  * "  cried  Stanley. 
*•  He  certainly  said  the  United  Service,"  observed  Sir  William,  who 
aifectrd  to  be  greatly  surrrrised.     "  Is  it  possible,  think  you,  that  he 
neant  the  Junior  United  Service?  " 

"  Oh  !  very  likely  I  I  thought  he  could  not  be  quite  ho  barefsced  a 
teamp.'" 

Tbeywent  to  the  Junior  Club  ;  he  was  not  known  there.  They 
examined  the  Army  F/itit  minutely  ;  he  was  not  to  be  found.  In  sliort, 
tkcic  wmi  no  Major  Foxe  in  the  service. 

On  making  this  discovery,  Stanley  said  indeed  but  little;  but  Sir 
Williain.  who  had  hod  ju!^t  as  lively  an  anticipation  of  the  event  as  if 
Wlud  actually  been  a  confederate  of  the  Alujor,  denounced  him  with 
uiexaznpled  energy.  He  was  a  scoundrel,  a  hlacklf^,  u  villtiin,  a 
nruidler !  —  he  was  everything,  in  fact,  but  un  honourable  man. 
Rtaaley,  however,  iitill  pre.ser^'ed  compumtive  silence;  and,  on  return- 
tarn  to  tbe  Albtmy,  left  the  indignant  Baronet,  having  engaged  to  dino 
I  arrth  him  At  Heven. 

Fwir  thousaad  pounds!  It  was  a  large  sum  for  htm  to  lose,  and 
that  is  one  day!  But  the  money  nm&t  be  paid:  whether  l^Iujor 
Koxr  were  or  were  not  tn  be  found.  Sir  William  must  have  the  amount 
hefaad  wvo  ;  and,  Iwing  impreKsed  with  the  necesMty  for  an  immediate 
nt,  Stanley  proc(*eded  to  the  house  uf  the  widow,  whom  ho 
in  a  pleasing  reverie,  recounting  the  delights  she  had  expe- 
d  the  preceding  day. 
Mother,"  laid  he.  after  the  customary  groetiiig,  '*  you  must  let  Ue 
t  MNae  muaey." 


tlir 
8i.1 


S04 

mortal  hiitrot 

tlirou!;}t  1.  ii  1 _i_  a 

she,<m.-,   :  -^  j'''"^°*"Lr^V 

her,  w.-iil!  ■  --'I'  1  dare  »y  •  *»*-  "  * 

lady  liriti :  -i  -  »*;ry  long  time  :  tior  you 

ofthiit  .■  ,  .;:. 

Tho  I  '  ...c  M>  much  at  o:u« ;  bat  I 

pres4'iji'. 

r*'^i  '■  -liii  iHuciuus !  my  dear,  what  on 

<.  j  I  ....  -Tnanley,  with  great  calmnen. 

Mtiii-  -  -  -udutlsat  theraces!  Mydearest 

mill-].  ..  .     ^^a  the  countenance  of  the  widow 

hati.- 

...ou,  of  coone  the  thing  would  hare 
..3  ti  was,  why,  what  in  her  judgment 
^^^  -.■  .1^  iu  the  family  !    It  \ras  nut  like  an 

l^^..  1  ;.;iking  money  out  of  the  right  pocket, 

\u'  ''hiK  dhe  felt,  and  hence  her  reply  was, 

HI  :.  Jti  [ttid* 

(I  .^^ti  rou,  my  dear  boy,  to  bet  to  such  an 

\-  ..Cher  bet  again  so  largely.     We  ahall  be 

''  ~    ._     .         t4i  continue  to  go  on  so.     But  I  thought, 

J  .%-       Aiiai's  his  name? — Foxe  —  ay.  Major 

. .  uusand  eight  hundred  pounds  of  him,  and 
iiiiaui." 

.^  M  desperate  I  Then,  if  I  gire  you  twelve 
■    ao  i«  nettle  all?" 

.  .   ;U  I  get  the  money  of  the  Major?     Is  he 
. ,  .lim  until  the  Major  pays  me  ?  " 
''tu-    htf  must  be  puid  at  once." 
..    .K'  Miijor  settles  with  me,  I'll  hand  the 

I    x-rtivtly  correct  and  straightforward.    But 
.    Aukcr's.     Let  me  see  —  how  can  it  be  ma- 
^.,  Sir  William  again  ?  " 
.;,.  .<  ith  him  tu-day." 

...M  run  away  at  u'ncu  into  the  city.     1 11  be 

».   iK'U,  and  you  shall  have  it." 

,,-  >J«e  thing  you  must  promise  me,  mother, 

M  uanie  a  word  of  this  to  Amelia.     It  can 

..,..    i\T  unhappy,  and  I  am  sure  you  have  no 

^   .«k  !uu»t  promise  me  that  you  '11  never,  never 

iM  ^'  much  again,  if  I  can  possibly  avoid  it. 
^ic  V  .\melia." 

^c  idie  would  not  nay  a  word,  and  they 

'^  .Muunt  of  satisfaction  ;  fur  it  must,  in  strict 

^^iito*^  that,  while  Stiiiiley  was  pleaMed  that 

^c  rvii>ic(>d  ill  the  op]K)rtuuity  of  convincing 

y^i\  iil>(>ut  hi>r  Mtinfthiiig  |if cuniarily  ^ul^■ 

^imO  >)ie  wnulil  not  have  failed  to  embrace 

'^a<  therefore  went  into  the  cit)  with  rather 


V* 


STANLEY   THORN. 


S!07 


a  light  heart ;  although  fthu  did  thtiik  that  Staalej  ought  not  to  Bupposc 
that  hv  \raa  at  liberty  to  launch  into  any  extra vagancioA  he  pleasKa. 

\V'U)le  Stanley  waa  at  home  waiting  rather  impatiently  fur  the  hour 
of  four.  Dob  wu.i  occupied  in  barine  his  breast  to  Joanna,  the  j^entle 
and  atfectiooate  cook.  lie  conceived  it,  and  very  correctly,  to  be  uiortj 
Kgalar  and  hunuurable  to  explain  to  her  clearly  the  poailion  in  which 
Iw  stood,  not  alono  because  she  wuh  hiet  principal  creditur,  but  because 
the  bad  invariably  treated,  biro  with  really  great  kindnetm  which  Im 
eould  not  but  feel,  inattuiuch  as  she  deemed  herself  m  duty  bound  to 
tjrmnnize  over,  if  not  indeed  to  trample  upon*  the  n^t  of  the  servants, 
in  order  that  the  contrast  might  be  rendered  thereby  the  more  striking. 
He  therefore  «indde<l  to  her  at  once  the  chief  features  of  his  uielan- 
dwly  esse ;  ucd,  when  all  had  been  explained,  he  observed,  with  niurJj 
feeltnet 

'*  Now  the  bottom  i>f  it  if,  cook,  I  owe  you  two  pound.  I  can  pay 
TOO, — ^just  pay  you. — and  I  feel  justifiable  in  settling  with  you  first ; 
but  if  I  do,  I  shiin't  liave  a  individual  copper  for  to  jHiy  my  wet  betSf 
which  won't  look  the  genteel  thing  exactly.  Now  I  dun't  want,  you 
•ee,  to  Mk  master  to  Advance.  I  don't  like  it^it  don't  Hgree  with  my 
diigeation.  It 's  a  delicate  thing,  and  looks  rutteu  ;  cunsequentiatlv 
tfce  point  in  embryo 'mounts  to  this, — do  you  want  this  here  two  ]>ouna, 
fm  know,  before  my  quarter  'x  up  ?  " 

"  By  no  manner  of  means,"  replied  the  gentle  Joanna.  "  But  why 
flkll  me  cook.^  Yuu  know  I  don't  mind  you,  Robert,  although  I  dont 
diooae  to  condescend  to  suffer  the  rest  to  come  any  familiarities.  But, 
ia  r^ard  of  this  money,  I  request  vou  'il  not  name  it.  If  you  was  in 
vtDls  of  twenty  times  as  much,  I  've  got  so  much  confidence  in  some- 
Itody,  that  I  don't  think  that  somebody  would  be  very  long  without  it. 
Bot  how  much  do  you  say  all  these  Imings  will  come  to  ?  " 

"  Whv,  I  think  three  pound  ten  will  about  settle  the  lot." 

"  Ana  you  're  only  t%vo  j>ound  ?  " 

"Oh,  but  I  can  euby  iKjrruvv  the  rest  of  old  misseses  coachman." 

*'  Borrow  of  nobody,  Robert,  but  me.  Don't  have  too  many  credit- 
Oft;  dtfu't  let  too  many  know  how  many  secrets  goes  to  an  ounce.  In 
tbr  present  deplorable  state  of  the  world  it  isn't  wise.  Here  '»  thirty 
shillings  ;  that  'It  make  it  up.  Come  1 — you  shall ! — 1  insist  I  If  you 
want  any  more,  whv,  you  know  where  to  make  the  applicHtion." 

TbU  was  kind — Bub  could  not  but  feci  it  to  be  very  kind,  while  the 
eonfidenw  he  had  reposed  in  Joanna  made  her  heart  leap  fur  joy;  for 
although  she  bud  had  recourse  to  every  ingenious  manunivre  having  a 
tcadeacy  in  her  view  to  convince  bim  of  the  strength  and  virgin  punty 
of  her  affection,— -ilthuuglL  she  had  done,  indeed,  all  that  the  delicacy 
tt  her  nature  could  sanction,  to  inspire  him  with  a  perfect  apprecintion 
of  the  chitrscter  of  that  vital  si>ark  with  which  she  longed  to  set  his 
htmst  in  B  bhize,  she  had  never  till  then  felt  quite  sure  of  success.  She 
had  theretofore  conceived  him  to  be  excessively  dull  on  this  interesting 
aabject,  and  that  dulneas  had  indisputably  outraged  to  a  painful  ex- 
tent her  refined  sensibilities ;  but  then,  being  conscious  not  only  that 
wraith  induced  favour,  but  that  favour  was  the  legititnutc  germ  of 
affection,  she  could  not,  nor  did  she  indeed  wish  to,  disguise  from  her- 
aolf  that  in  the  garden  of  his  heart  she  had  planted  this  germ,  and 
hencr.  fancying  that  xlie  had  but  to  cultivate  it  tenderly,  proceeded  to 
Mplaifi  to  him  with  much  iioetlc  feeliuf;  that  she  had  a  mass  of  money 
in  on*  of  the  savings'  banks  to  a  highly  respectable  tunc,  and  Umt  she 


2U8 


STANLEY    TUO&N. 


thoiigfit  QiMt  Kincerelr  that  unch  muss  would  go  far  towards  enabling  a 
comfortable  couple  to  commence  in  the  independent  green  grocery  line, 
if  indeed  it  would  nut,  with  the  nid  of  a  brewer,  estalilisli  tbein  ut  unci! 
in  a  public  hou^e  of  respi'ceability>  which  furnied  at  tbiit  niirticular 
period  the  very  acme  of  her  amhitiun.  Of  course  Bob's  opinions  upon 
tfaifi  subject,  were  bound  to  he  strikingly  coincident  uith  her  own  ;  and 
although  he  did  not  undefHtand  her  aim  eKBCtly,  having  no  Herioua 
ruatrinioniol  fcclin;:^  about  liim,  he  continued  to  converse  with  her  on 
Tarious  tnatteni  which  had  indirect  reference  to  those  feeliogB,  until 
Stanley  again  ordered  the  cab. 

As  the  widow  had  been  detained  for  some  time  in  the  city*  she  had 
but  just  abglited  from  her  caniage  when  Stanley  arrived.  8Le  seemed 
to  have  been  &ligbtiy  put  out  ab«Kit  souietbiug,  but  fcbc  instuntly  gave 
him  a  cheque  fur  the  umount  required. 

*' AVhy  do  you  give  me  this  thing?  "cried  Stanley,  throwing  the 
cheque  dou-n  as  if  it  were  valueless.  "  Why  could  you  not  bring  me 
the  money  ?  " 

"  A  ch(H)ue,  my  love,  loolcs  more  respectable  —  infinitely  more  re- 
apectable." 

"  So  it  would,  with  ray  own  name  attached ;  but  do  you  loppcwe  I 
want  the  whole  world  to  know  that  I  have  to  run  to  you  for  all  the 
money  I  want  ?  Your  own  respectability,  mother,  you  look  at,  not 
mine.  If  a  cheque  be  nu  emblem  of  respectability,  why  not  place  me 
in  a  poxition  to  give  cheques  of  uiy  own  ?  Here  it 's  now  half-past 
four,  and  I  must  go  galloping  down  to  the  banker's  to  get  this  thing 
cashed." 

"  Surely  that  is  unnecessary  ?     \Vliat  difference  can  it  moke  ?  " 

*'  What  difference !  Why>  1  would  not  Jet  him  see  this  on  any  ac- 
count !  I  wUh  you  had  a  little  more  thought  fur  me,  mother.  If  yoo 
had,  I  tliiiik  your  affection  would  be  much  more  conspicuous." 

"  Stanley  !  —  indeed  this  is  cruel !  But  you  do  not  —  you  cannot 
really  mean  ulint  you  say.  If  you  did,  I  should  be  UTetched-  My 
dearest  boy  !  why  are  yon  so  passionate?  You  'II  break  my  heart  !.— 
I  'ra  sure  you  '11  break  my  heart,  and  then  you  rrould  be  very  sorry, 
would  you  not  ?  Yes,  I  know  you  would,"  «Iie  added,  throwing  her 
arms  round  his  neck,  and  fondly  kissing  him,  "  my  boy  !  " 

He  returned  the  kiss  coldly,  Hud  quitted  the  room. 

Now  the  widow  regrette*!  all  this  very  much:  not  only  in  conse- 
quence of  8tanli-y's  impiTtutmity,  which  tdie  had  in  his  childliood  most 
culpably  fostered,  but  because  she  had  wished  that  particular  cheque  to 
pass  through  the  bunds  of  Sir  William.  However,  as  it  was,  »be  con- 
tented herself  with  the  cherished  conviction  tliat  he  would,  nerertlie- 
less,  understand  and  duly  appreciate  the  source  whence  it  came. 

Having  obtained  the  cash  at  the  banker's,  Stanley  in  due  time  pro- 
ceeded to  dine  witli  Sir  William  ;  to  whom,  immediately  after  dizmer 
— they  being  quite  alone — he  cheerfully  paid  the  amount. 

Sir  William  affected  to  receive  it  with  great  reluctance. 

"Upon  my  buuour/'  said  he,  **  1  am  ashamed  to  take  it  of  yon.  I 
am*  indi>ed." 

"  Ridiculous!  "  cried  Stanley.  "The  sum  is  nothing;  ftnd  you 
must  not  *  lay  llie  flattering  unction  to  your  soul '  that  I  am  nut  going 
to  have  my  revenge." 

Sir  William  was  pleased  to  bear  that  in  Stanley's  estimation  the 


STANLEY    THORN. 


209 


lift  tnconsidtfrablu.  He  was  also  pleased  In  hear  him  speak  of 
lutviug  bia  revenge :  Atill  he  appvaretl  to  be  uiust  uuwilliug  to  receive 
it. 

"  I  do  not,"  he  observed,  "care  a  straw  about  winning  any  amount 
of  a  number  of  friendo;  but  I  canm>t  bear  to  \rin  so  much  of  one. 
[  However,  as  yoa  insist  upon  my  receiving  it,  I  also  must  insist  upon 
being  alluvred  to  make  your  amiable  wife  a  present." 

"Nunaense!  nonsense!"  cried  Stanley.  '*  I  beg  you  will  do  no- 
thingof  Uie  sort." 

"Then,  by  Heavens  I  I'll  not  have  the  money  at  all.  I  maybe 
called  a  curious  fellow,  and  perhaps  I  am  ;  but  this  i»n't  quite  conge- 
nial with  a  certain  sort  of  principle,  or  feeling,  I  have  about  me." 

••  Why.  suppo«e  I  hod  won  it  of  you,  —  do  you  think  /  would  not 
have  received  it  ?  " 

"Not  with  pleasure.  I  am  sure  of  it.  I  know  you  too  well.  At 
all  events  I  11  do  what  I  say-  You  can  but  call  nie  out;  and,  although 
I  'n  not  much  uf  a  sbot^  I  '11  bock  myself  to  tire  in  the  air  on  such  an 
trorwmi  with  anv  mnn  in  Kogland." 

Stanley  smiled.  He  hsd  now  a  much  better  opinion  of  Sir  William 
than  ever ;  and,  aa  both  were  welt  siitiitBed,  they  kept  up  a  spirited, 
merry  ctmrersation,  their  full  How  of  pleasure  bt^ing  interrupted  only 
when  2kIajor  Fuxe  happened  to  be  named  ;  un  which  occasions  Sir 
WiUiaDi  invariably  felt  utmself  in  honour  bound  to  swell  with  indig- 
nation. 

At  eleven  o'clock  precisely.  Bob,  according  to  instructions,  drove  u]i 
to  the  south  entrance  of  the  Albany,  where  he  waited  with  the  must 
exemplary  patience  till  twelve,  and  then  fell  asleep,  and  dreamt  of  his 
pnuiecta  tilt  oue,  when  the  arrival  of  Stanley  and  Sir  William,  Imth 
«f  wbooi  were  somewhat  heated  with  wine,  hod  the  effect  of  making 
him  leap  ont  of  the  cab,  and  to  rush  to  the  burse's  head^  before  his  eyea 
wvre  iu  a  positively  Mrict  &enjie  ojieii. 
"  Vou  mav  as  well  jum[i  in/'  said  Stanlev,  on  taking  the  reins. 
"  Ub>  wilii  all  my  heart,"  returned  Sir  William.  "  The  air  is  re- 
frcslniig*     I  'II  MH!  yvu  safely  home,  and  then  walk  back  coolly." 

He  accordingly  ut  once  took  his  scat,  and  they  stiirted,  turning  the 
oaracr  as  if  aame  great  principle  impelled  the  near  wheel  to  grosc  the 
ghmt  of  a  pemoo  whose  hund  was  on  the  Inmp-post. 

•*  1 11  bet  ten  to  one,"  Miid  Sir  William,  on  reacliing  the  Circus, 
"(hat  yon  don't  drive  through  the  Quadrant  at  full  gullop,  without 
Incline  llie  pillars  on  the  one  side,  or  the  shutters  on  tiic  other." 
•*  Wbat,  on  the  foot-poth  there  under  the  piazza,  do  you  mean  .*  " 
••  Of  course." 

**  Safe  bet,"  said  Stanley,  who  continued  to  drive  on. 
"  Well.  1  '11  tell  you  wtaat  I  'U  do  with  you,  safe  as  it  is  :  I  '11  take 
ten  to  one  that  1  do  it." 
'  DoBp  1 "  cried  Stanley. 
'  In  6fties  ?  *' 

'  Avr  in  fiflies.     But  the  people  !  " 
'  O^  I  'U  very  soon  dear  the  course.     You  '11  see  how  they  '11  all  fly 

Tbry  Doir  clinnged  places.  Stanley  gave  up  the  reins,  and  Sir  Wil- 
IJBBt  drove  bock  to  the  Circus. 

r,  thco,"  siud  he,  '*  sit  firm.     Never  mind  the  wreanis  of  the 


JBMKBT  7H0BN. 

^U^  •-  Tii^a^ !  yu-oicks !  lally-bo !  **  be  abottted> 

''igfr'i  shop.     "  Yoj !  yoi !  yoi !  yoi ! — loloo, 

•twdk  wkUrn  the  women  vreru  Bbrivkini;.  and 
latfc.  Umk  paticp  were  running  from  all  directions. 
1^  wmmtmhmt  frigliteneU,  and  st^emed  half  incUn 
H«;  but  as  his  n^JileiM  driver  kept  a  tijfbt  rviu, ' 
Lte«fauiil  Its  if  Reynard  bad  Ihh^u  in  sigbt,  be  went  oa 
~i  the  Ifa^-^tunes  were  nearly  as  smooth  as  glasa. 
Bpleted.  Stanley's  five  bundred  sevncd  searorly 
>  pufobue.    They  bad  but  (o  pass  a  few  more 

)  uM»  •!< !  keep  on !  "  sbouted  Bub.  *'  Tlie  police!  " 
i'^oeaii)r  iigtftled  tbe  bair-bmiiied  Baronet  to  cause  tim,  m 
n  ihftrp  ioto  tbe  nud,  Ui  graze  tbe  base  of  the  last 
■  'osis 

•  >M  which  followed  convinced  Bob  that  Stanicrl 
V     He  cared,  buwever,  ucitbiug  fur  Sir  Williamo^ 
u^tsslly  pulled  back  tbe  bood  to  give  inKtructtons. 
i  ■«  c-Dc  still  gnwning  with  indignation,  and  tbe  p<ilice 
!i  great  tcfodty. 
-.     ^..^  «■,  sir  I  **  cried  Bob.     "  lie  can  do  more  thaa 
^lui'c  facaft  'cos !     There  *s  one  on  'cm  now  at  oar  heels  in 
lb*  retos — cake  the  reins,  ttir !  "  he  added.  addrv>&- 


ami  tbeo  the  Prince  won't  be  friglitcned.     That '»  right, 
^  W*     Go  fight   iato  the  New  Road«  and  then  we'll 


H  iben  aovj  Bob  ?  "  cried  Stanley,  on  reaching  tha 

'.hcf  *te  just  behind  ns,  cutting  awav  as  if  they  hadn't 
*  Uire^     Now  to  tbe  right,  sir !     I  know  every  inch 


M 


J,  :$tsaley  went  to  tlie  right,  and  In  a  abort  time 
jk  '^ptia.  and  then  dushed  through  an  infinite  variety 
Lw  ibe  left  and  right  alternately,  until  they  reached 
V  otthough  long  before  ibut  Bub  felt  sure  of  having 
it  oficim  puniuer. 
iiA  way  DOW?  "  inquired  Stnnlcy. 
•M  Uk«»  sir>  now.     You  can  ivalk  the  Prince,  if  you 
.-rfi  up  the  chase.     But  I  he^  pardon,  sir,  but,  if 
trv  thut  there  dodge  again.     It's  n  mercy  we 
>u  I  'm  sure  we  knocked  i>ome  on  'em  down.    Jl  'a 
'vtJKNf  didn't  liolt ! " 
.  U  heartily  at  this,  nutwithstdnding  be  had  lost ; 
--  ht\d  won,  felt  thut  Bob  was  c|uite  right,  and 
>)tice  bad  notbiog  to  do  with  their  escape, 
>!iddenly  seised  by  a  policeniou. 
'•;  tiiley.     '*  I^t  go  your  bold  !  " 

'  i\v  ]Mliceman,  who  still  held  on,  uotit 
,  ml  on  the  instant,  threw  his  coat  into 
^     illation. 

.  v^liiimed.     "Getaway  from  my  Uorset 
xw  you .'     What  do  you  want  ?     Do  you 


STANLEY    THORN. 


2]  I 


bew?  Staitdawayl"  And  Le  seized  the  pulicenian ;  whu,  findiitg 
tbe  horse  becoming  munoDugeuble,  relinquished  tlie  reiiiSj  und  seized 
him* 

SUnley  wss  now  about  to  leap  from  the  cab,  but  Sir  Wiltium  re- 
strained him,  and,  as  at  the  moment  Bob  Khouted,  "  Drive  on,  sir  1  ^- 
drive  ou  !  Tliere 'a  niure  of 'em  coming,  sir!  Never  minil  me,  sir! 
Drive  nn  ! "  he  ftomewhat  reluctantly  gave  the  horse  hia  beadj  and 
doslicil  away. 

Buh  mutle  no  resistance :  nor  would  he  allow  the  caJmnesii  of  his 
spirit  to  be  ruffled  ;  :LltH:it  t^vo  other  pulicemcn  came  up  at  tlie  time, 
■ad  bandied  him  with  something  bearing  the  semblance  of  ferocity- 

"  Dchnvi',"  Aaid  he,  "a  Jeetle  near  the  mark,  uud  I'll  walk,  like  a 
f^ntlemon.  I  don't  want  to  cut  away  from  you.  It  's  no  odds  to 
me .'  If  you  wasn't  to  go  for  to  hold  me  at  all,  1  'd  walk  with  you  as 
ropilar  aa  a  lamb." 

On  thift  particular  point  the  incredulity  of  the  policemen  waa  rather 
renuurkahle.  They  still  held  him  tightly,  and  continued  to  bold  hint 
until  they  arrived  at  the  tttation,  when  they  placed  him  beliind  a  piece 
of  wood  yclept  the  bar,  and  pritceeded  to  introducf!  him  to  the  notice 
«f  che  inii|>ecU»r,  who,  while  disposing  of  a  mouthful  of  a  culd  niuttou 
1^,  looked  at  him  with  supreme  official  dignity. 

"  Well,"  said  tbe  inspector,  having  listened  with  peculiar  attention 
lo  the  merits  of  tbe  cane,  as  [Hirtniyed  in  the  njtening  address,  which 
unia  aomewhat  poetical,  "  and  who  la  your  master?  " 

Bob  with  great  deliberation  passed  hia  hand  over  his  chin,  and  aaid, 
"  Wliy " 

"  lio  you  boar  mc  I  Who  is  your  master?  We  are  not  going  to 
let  yon  ctand  hatching  a  lot  of  liea.  Who  la  he  ?  What  'a  lua  oiiniu  ^ 
Wliere  does  he  live  ?  " 

**  Why."  replied  Bob,  who  was  still  unrulflcd,  "under  all  the  cir- 
eBBHUatials  of  the  case,  I  duu't  know,  you  see,  exact,  that  I  sliould 
be  rMuUr  justifiable " 

*'  None  of  your  lung  speeches  here-  It  won't  do<  Again  I  ask  who 
w  your  master  ?  " 

"  Vuu  ae«,"  returned  Bob,  with  on  appropriate  gesture,  "  it's  a  de- 
Ueate  pint  when  you  look  at  it  deliberate  I  Keely  I  don't  think  it 
wvuld  become  me  to  tell,  do  you  know !  " 

"  But  yon  must  tell !     Thai '«  all  about  it." 

"  Well,  if  I  mu*l,  why  the  fact  of  the  matter  is,  I  roust.  There 
cui't  be  two  upiniontc,  anyhow,  about  that ;  but  it  somehow  or  another 
Arikei  roe  forcible  that  i'vc  hejird  a  old  saying,  which  says,  you  can 
lake  a  horse  to  wsttr,  but  you  cau't  make  bim  drink.  Now,  that 's  a 
ptrdicameut :  and,  it  just  occurs  to  uiy  mngination  tluit,  if  I  make  up 
my  mind  that  I  won't  tell,  I  won't ;  oud,  as  true  as  I  'm  alive  I  can  t 
sve  huw  you  can  make  me  tell  legally  by  latv,  jtlthough,  no  doubt,  such 
things  wib  done  in  the  days  of  luinguhinary  Alary." 

**  Wbttt  are  you  chattering  about  ?  "  demanded  the  ins|)ector,  who 
caooeiving  his  authority  to  be  in  some  degree  c*>ntenined,  bcgiin  to  be 
nvlly  very  oiigry.  *'  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  '11  ttot  tell  me 
wlw  your  nioAtur  is?  " 

"  Why  I  don't  mean  to  say  that  I  won't ;  nor  I  don't  mean  to  say 
ibat  I  will  ;  I  was  only  just  a-iurgufying  the  pint,  whidi  seems  to  mv 
U  be  raythcr  knotty." 


312 


STANLEY   THORN. 


"  It'll  be  all  tlic  wome  fur  you,  joang  fellow!  Now,  do  you  m»n 
to  tell  me,  or  don't  yoii  ?  " 

"  I  don't  see  how  1  can  witboiit  cutting  the  throat  of  thitt  confidence 
which  ought ■" 

"  Yes,  ur  no !  We  Ve  hod  qtiite  enough  jubbering.  Will  you  tell 
me,  or  not  ?  " 

"  Kxcu«e  roe-  Not  to-night.  I  must  turn  the  matter  over  in  my 
mind." 

"Lock  him  up!  "  cried  the  inspector,— " lock  him  up!"  And,  after 
baring  as  quietly  as  a  dove  uuaergoue  the  operation  of  hainng  bts 
pockets  emptied — the  necessity  for  which,  however,  he  could  not  then 
exactly  comprehend,  —  he  was  conducted  from  the  bar  into  the  yard, 
and  introduced  into  one  of  the  cellx. 

As  far  as  the  abstract  process  of  locking-up  waK  concerned  this  met 
\m  vtewK  precisely  ■  he  expected  to  be  lucked  up,  as  a  matter  of 
course,  he  expected  that ;  but  he  did  not  expect  to  be  introduced 
into  a  cell  crowded  with  persons,  of  whom  the  majority  were  in  a  state 
of  the  moat  bestial  intoxication,  yet  such  was  the  fact.  Some  wtin 
snoring,  some  were  singing,  and  some  were  awcaiing,  white  the  efflu- 
vium which  prevailed  was  not  remarkable  for  its  fragrance.  Bob  felt 
that  this  ought  nut  to  be.  He  under8too<I,  of  course,  then,  why  his 
pockets  had  been  emptied  ;  hut  he  did  think  the  practice  of  thrusting 
all  sorts  of  characters  into  a  place  of  this  kind  indiscriminately^  was 
one  which  never  ought  to  have  obtained.  He,  however,  rvsolved  to 
make  himself  as  comfortable  as  the  circumstances— of  which  some  were 
peculiarly  unpleasant  —  wmild  permit ;  and,  having  discussed  certain 
interesting  points  with  his  conscience,  he  fell  asleep,  and  &lept  sound- 
ly till  the  clock  struck  nine.  He  was  then  aruusea  by  the  policenuui 
who  had  charge  of  the  cell ;  und  who,  being  a  decent  man  in  his  way, 
did,  with  great  consideration,  procure  him  some  breakfast,  which  Boh 
enjoyed  much,  and  then  waited  with  patience  till  the  hour  arrived  at 
which  he  and  the  rest  were  escorted  to  the  office. 

In  this  procession  be  had  the  precedence ;  and  he  had  scarcely  left 
the  door  of  the  station  when  a  stranger  placed  a  coTit  into  his  handa, 
and  walked  away  without  uttering  a  word.  Bob  recognised  the  coat 
in  an  instant.  It  was  a  frock-cout.  He  had  brushed  it  he  knew  not 
how  oft,  nor  did  he  care.  He  put  it  on  ivith  alacrity,  and  the  fit  wu 
undeniuble. 

"  Ih  that  your  own  coat  ?  "  inquired  the  policeman  who  did  him  the 
honour  to  keep  by  his  side. 

"No  :  the  buttons  of  my  own  ctmts  tells  tales,"  replied  Bob. 

"  Vour  master,  I  sup|)0($e,  sent  it  ?  " 

"  He  wliu  sent  it  is  a  trump,  and  nothing  but !  "  cried  Bob,  who  was 
proud  of  the  coat,  and  felt  happy.  "All  right!  "said  he  to  himaelf 
in  a  confidential  wliisper.  **  Am't  it  a  blessing  to  have  a  muster  that's 
grateful  ?  He  don't  core  almut  me  I  Whol  a  pitu  he  dou't  I"  Here- 
upon lioh  winked  with  peculiar  significance,  and  entered  the  office 
nith  a  tranquil  mind. 

Nearly  an  hour  elapsed  before  his  case  was  called  on  ;  and  although 
during  the  whole  of  that  time  he  n-us  perfectly  self-possossed,  on  being 
pluoed  at  the  bar,  and  called  "  prisoner  "  he  certainly  did  feel  in  some 
slight  dturee  confused.  As  the  case,  however,  proceeded,  his  nervea 
r«oov«nra  their  wonted  tone;  and  when  the  charge  had  been  made  he 


STANLEY    THORN. 


213 


Idown  Ilia  nraistcoat,  and  held  up  his  head  with  the  air  of  a  mta 
(xwtdotu  of  having  a  great  duty  to  perform. 

"  Nuvr,"  Haid  the  mugistrate,  "  what  have  you  to  saj'  to  all  tliia  ?  " 

"PleaM  vour  worship,"  snid  Bub,  "  it  wasn't  a  bact  of  mioti.  It 
wasn't  me  t^t  drove  through  the  Quadrant  at  all-" 

"  We  know  that ;  but  wiiat  dii  you  say  to  the  charge  of  having  oh- 
rtmcted  the  police  in  the  execution  of  their  duty  ?  " 

"Why,  please  your  worship,  what  could  I  do?  1  didn't  want  to 
htiH  Qtrbody-  I  'm  sure  I  'm  of  a  |Kfaceful  dispensation  enough  ;  but. 
when  I  knew  the  police  wanted  for  to  coUiir  my  master,  how  could  I 
stand  thati^  Suppose  you  was  my  muster,  what  ttould  vou  think  of 
toe  if  I  Butfered  vou  to  he  taken?  fVould  h  be  at  all  the  ticket? 
H'(mldn't  you  think  it  unpitpular  and  rotten  inoratitude?  I  rnyther 
think  you  would,  your  worship,  reely,  if  you  only  just  put  it  to  your- 
wlf  in  that  predicament,  and  argue  the  matter  cool." 

The  magvtnitc  itmiledj  and  ugiiu  consulted  the  pulicc-xheet,  and 
then  anidj  "  lA't  me  >^e:  what  do  you  sa\  ytmr  mottter's  name  is?" 

"  I  beg  your  wor^hip'fi  pardon,  but  1  Jidn't  say  at  all." 

"Well,  what  is  his  name?  " 

•*  Why,  your  worship,  ytrn  'II  ohieedge  me  by  not  asking  ;  yon  will, 
Dpan  my  word,  'cause  I  don't  n'ont  to  tell  any  falsity,  and  I  ain't  justi- 
fiafaJp  in  speaking  the  truth." 

"  But  we  must  know." 

"  Wf  II,  now,  reelv  i  I  bow,  of  course,  respectably  to  your  worship ; 
bat.  if  yoa  look  at  the  thing  in  the  ri};ht  light,  as  a  pint  of  principle,  I 
don't  think  thut  if  1  was  to  tell  you  *d  believe  that  I 'd  any  principali- 
ty ia  me." 

The  magistrate  tried  to  look  grave,  but  the  thing  was  a  failure'  He 
did,  hoivevt-r,  say,  witJi  great  apparent  severity, 

**  What  if  I  were  to  send  you  to  prison,  air,  and  keep  you  there 
until  yoa  did  tell  as  ?  ** 

"  I  bope  your  wonhip  will  think  better  of  it,"  said  Bob.  "  It  ain't 
•a  if  I  'd  done  a  single  ha'p'orth  of  injury  ;  nor  it  ain't  as  jf  it  was  me, 
yoQ  know,  as  drove  upon  the  pavement,  which,  if  I  must  speak  the 
irnlimeuis  of  my  mincl,  ia  a  thing  I  wouldn't  think  of  doing  myself; 
snd,  though  the  law  mny  say  I  didn't  ought  to  have  touched  the  po- 
lice, lint  ought  niyther  to  have  a.s»l^ted  him  in  collaring  of  muster,  your 
woTkhip  will  see  that  ftuch  a  hiw  is  right  clean  against  Nature  ;  'cause 
if  I  'd  a-done  that  I  aliould  u-bated  myself  regular  :  I  couldn't  a  been 
off  it-** 

"  Vou  are  fined  live  puunds,"  sold  the  AIngistrate;  "and  tell  your 
Bostrr  from  me  that  his  conduct  is  disgraceful." 

Bob  bowed;  und  us  lie  left  ihe  bar  a  solicitor,  whom  Stanley  bad 
cttgtkged  to  watch  the  case,  placed  in  his  hand  the  required  itum,  with 
which  tlie  fine  was  tluly  paid,  ami  he  wm  at  once  set  at  liberty.  8ir 
William^  who,  although  untwrceived  by  liim,  had  been  in  the  office, 
now  prevented  him  u  sovereign ;  and  as  on  reaching  home  Stanley 
made  him  a  (iresent  of  five,  he  could  not  but  feel  that  PWtune, 
cmiling  swretlv  upon  him,  had  designed  the  whole  thing  with  no  other 
ritw  toon  that  of  getting  him  out  of  those  pecuniary  embarrassments 
in  which  he  bad  been  so  deeply  and  so  painfully  involved. 


•TAKLCT   TBORX. 


CHAPTRB  XXI. 


TBB   UECONCIMATION. 

T^a  iARti  of  Gcncrnl  Johnson  to  etToct  a  rccfincilifltion  Iiad  boon 
n^fimSltMkf  VKaaa£a\,  Uut  be  called  ou  the  murning  uf  the  event  jast 
Kiwikii  te  uiricc  Scanlcf  ind  Amelia  to  a  auiet  ftmily  dinner,  gently 
Itkmt  they  were  not  to  feel  in  the  slightest  def^ree  ani]ir.e<)  tY 
ct  certaiji  persons  whom  they  honoured-  The  intimation  wm, 
■»,  in  an  iostant  understood;  and  notliin:;  ever  &iirtiatued  the 
farnil  hesrt-cttrring  elocpiencc  with  which  Amelia  poured  forth  hiT 
*^i^  The  GenenU,  nhhough  overjoyed  at  hannp  nccomplished  htN 
id^iMt.  oiuUl  SLurcelv  refrain  from  nheddin;;  teari^  Every  n-ord  tottch- 
mI  hi*  feelings  as  a  ^iher;  every  sentence  wi'nt  directly  to  Lis  hearL 
Npt  w^  Sunlev  unmoved.  With  all  his  fuult^  he  lored  Amelia  most 
fboilly.  He  could  not  bear  to  sec  her  aUlicted.  He  might  be  thought- 
l«H ;  be  might  neglect  her — and  hix  neglect  was  attributahle  to 
'.'  -Mie&s  nlune:  but  a  gentle  tear  front  her  \V4>uld  wound  him 

II,  the  must  severe  reproof  that  could  I»e  uttered.     In  tlilv  in- 

•UucvIh;  knew  that  her  tears  were  distilled  from  a  feeling  of  joy;  yet 
be  could  not  endure  them ;  and,  as  all  his  Kerious  etforU  to  check 
them  failed,  he  had  recourse  tr>  that  tpecieR  of  irony  which  tends  to 
make  tniubles  seem  leiis  by  virtue  of  painting  them  greater  than 
they  are. 

"'AXy  love,"  aid  he,  "thia  ia  indeed  a  dreadful  day.  Can  the 
Otncval  b«  nally  a  friend  to  bring  thiu  grent  calamity  upoa  u»> 
Whkt  lh«  rmult  uf  his  polite  invitation  may  be  one  can't  think  ;  htrt 
ia  it  uot  your  impresoion  that  it  ought  to  break  uur  hearts?  Come, 
amutt  ftfU  »iUy  girl!  Vou  tihould  amile,  not  weep.  Tears  should  be 
tularated  only  with  troubles  ;  they  should  never  be  permitted  to  dim  a 
N-   'v  •r-'spwrt :  OeneraJ,  should  they  ?  " 

ir«  aitood  fellow,  Rir,"  said  the  General,  pressing  hu  hand. 
K    luiitiii)  you,  sir.     Yuu  have  an  angel  for  a  wife,  and  yoa  know 

"  Yr^."  aaid  Stanley  phtyfully,  "  slie  is  very  fair,  conudering.    Her 
cut  ifl.  however,  extremely  tyrannous.** 

.  ■*  tight  —  (juite  right:  keep  a  tight  rein,  my  girl,  and  then 

lie  i*  n  nild  young  dog,  and  re<|utre»  to  be  t(K>ked  sharp- 

"    a.'ver,  if  yuu  mind  what  you  are  about,  I  think  it  powii- 

.'uutable  opinion  I  liave  formed  of  hi&  character  wUl  he 

>t  t  "Stanley,  "for  the  interest  you  have  token  in  Ame- 
ist  thanks.  She  is  a  good  girl ;  and  I  cannot  but 
•  ike  the  Captain  might  have  felt  himself  justified 

..iilfv  ! "  said  Amelia. 

U'  siKiil  all?  "cried  the  General.     "Not  another 

I       Take  my  advice.     But  I  '11  leave  him  in  your 

i^Idrt'wiing  Amelia.     "  You  must  instruct  him  that 

^  '<  t  that  tlic  better.     Adieu!    Remember  six.     De- 

i  W  well." 

»»i  «»%u  kA ;  ttiid  the  moment  he  had  done  so  Amelia 


'1-- 


STANLRY    THORN. 


s\s 


(m1  bcr  tiuik   of  pretrnilin};  upon  Stanley  tu  say  nutliing  dis- 

fileoxin^;  to  her  f.ittici^— a  tank  whicli  ftlio  accmnpliabed  with  eaac. 

"  For  yotir  snUv,  my  dfiirest  girl,"  said  he  affectionately,  *'  I  will 

[oa  lh»t  point  lie  silent.     I.  i»f  course,  perceive  tlutt  it  might  produce 

nnpleuHnt  feelin{r,  and  will,  therefore,  not  indulge   in  a  single 

word.- 

From  thii  time  nntil  ftix  Anieh'a  was  lo«t  in   contemplation.     She 

ewleiToured  to  think  Iienelf  Imppy.  but  her  huppincf>s  was  then  most 

.imperfect.     Her  feelinj,'>i   of  delight  were  minf»Ied  with  those  of  ap- 

I  preheoAion,  boUi  struggling  fur  the  moatery,  but  neither  guining  the 

Mcvndant. 

When  the  time  for  their  departure  had  arrived  she  became  still  more 
Berroust  The  bloiMl  left  her  clicekx,  nnd  she  trembled  with  violence 
oo  the  corriiige  tteing  iinnounced.  Stanley  trie<]  with  the  most  atfec- 
tiottate  seal  to  cheer  her.  He  Kirove  to  ciHivince  her  that  her  fither's 
•biflct  wu  not  to  inflict  an  additiumil  wound  upon  her  feelingK,  but  to 
heal  that  which  his  auger  hud  already  induced.  Still  she  dreiuled  to 
meet  him.  and  became  so  tremulnUH  on  reaching  the  General'^  rcsi* 
dence  that  she  bad  scarcely  sufficient  strength  to  alight. 

"  Courage — courage !  my  dear  girl !  "  cried  Stanley  as  he  placed  her 
mrm  in  bis,  and  led  her  gently  into  the  bouse.  "  You  are  not  my 
Amelia  to-day ! " 
[  Another  effort  ^vas  made  to  assume  nn  air  of  calmness  and  thev 
were  receiTed  with  the  most  cheering  warmth.'  Miss  Johnson,  with 
Ihe  familiar  lore  of  a  sister,  Uxik  Amelia  at  once  under  her  own  es- 
peciAl  care,  and  exerted  her  enlivening  influence  with  some  degree  of 
mecMa.  Stanley  wa-s  under  the  command  of  the  General,  who  march- 
ed bim  into  the  library,  and  remained  to  entertain  him  nntil  Captain 
•ad  Mrs.  Juliffe  arrived,  when  he  introduced  the  lady  into  the  library, 
■ad  conducted  the  Captain  at  once  into  the  drawing-room,  to  which 
AsMdia  had  been  led  by  her  afTeclionate  friend. 

The  very  moment  the  Ciiptiiin  entered,  Amelia  flew  into  bis  arms, 
which  were  extende*!  to  r»xeive  her  ;  but  for  some  moments  neither 
had  the  power  to  Kpeak.  She  wibl^d  conviiUively,  while  t)ie  big  teara 
ffnQcd  diHvn  his  cheeks  as  he  kissed  her,  and  fondly  pressed  her  again 
aod  ■cwn  to  bis  heart. 

**  Jfjr  girl !  "  he  cried  at  length,  "  my  own  dear  girl  1 — fur  dear  you 
ar»  11111  to  me,  my  child, — nay,  dearer  thun  ever.  Look  up,  my  love  ! 
Kim  me — no  in<ire  sadnen  now." 

"Dear  papa!"  cried  Amelia,  in  tonea  the  most  touching.  "You 
will  forpve  me,  pana  ?     Pray,  forgive  me  ?  " 

"  I  do  from  my  neart  I  —  from  my  soul  I  Bless  you  !  —  bless  you 
batli ! — be  hapny  !  " 

A  freah  lloofl  of  tears  was  the  only  rejoinder  Amelia  could  make ; 
■ad  as  her  father  with  the  mo^t  affectionate  tenderness  led  her  to  the 
wnf^  the  (ieDeral.  who  had  laid  birf  whole  plan,  went  for  Stanley  and 
Ml*.  Joliffe,  with  whom  he  speedily  returned  ;  and  while  Amelia  was 
bvinf;  caressed  by  the  latter,  the  Captain  was  shaking  the  former  cor- 
dially try  the  hand,  thereby  pi>rfectly  reolixiog  the  conception  of  the 
GeBeraf,  who  felt  that  bis  task  was  complete. 

Aatrtia  ma  now  most  happy.  Kestored  to  thcKve  who  from  her  ear* 
tlMt  infaacy  bad  cheriabed  and  loved  her  most  fondly,  her  heart  was 
iUcd  wiih  that  pure  joy  whose  natural  element  is  tvileuce. 


S16 


STANLEY    TUOKN. 


During  dinner  not  a  syllable  was  uttered  hax'ing  reference  eren 
remotely  to  the  cause  of  their  meeting  tliat  day.  They  appeared  to  be 
afraid  to  s)>eak,  lest  they  should  happen  to  drop  a  word  which  could  be 
supposed  to  apply  to  it.  Miss  Johnson,  however,  did  eventuully  go  to 
far  as  to  expluiu  how  exceesively  disupfHtinted  »he  had  been  on  ascer- 
taining that  Stanley  was  married,  inasmuch  as,  in  the  event  of  bis 
having  been  single,  what  the  consequence  of  her  rescue  might  have 
been  »he  realty  could  not  at  all  pretend  to  tell.  Upon  which  Stanley 
condoled  with  her  in  the  most  luppy  vein,  and  she  was  rallied  on  the 
subject  by  all  but  Amelia,  whose  heart  was  too  full  to  allow  her  to 
join  them.  i 

Tlie  hiities  retired  early,  and  their  retirement  appeared  to  be  the  signal 
for  silence.  TIiIk  part  of  the  business  seemed  to  have  been  altogc''ber 
forgotten  by  the  Genend  ;  he  hud,  at  all  events,  omitted  to  include  it 
io  his  plan,  lie  now  saw  that  the  grand  subject  must  of  necessity  be 
alluded  to  in  someway;  and  while  he  was  considering  which  ougbt 
to  speak  Hrst,  Stanley  and  the  Captain  were  waiting  anxiously  fur  e.ich 
other  to  begin.  At  length  the  General,  by  dint  of  much  reasoning,— 
for  he  reuienibered  no  precedent  by  which  he  could  be  guided, — safely 
arrived  at  the  conclusion  that  they  both  expected  him  to  break  the  ice ; 
and,  as  he  could  not  clearly  recognise  any  incorrectness  in  such  a  course, 
be  replenished  his  glass,  and  retwlved  to  pursue  it. 

"  Well,"  said  he,  having  taken  a  deep  inspiration,  "  yoo  understand 
each  other  perfectly  now,  I  presume?  You  consent  to  receive  tbis 
desperate  youn^  gentlenun,  and  be,  in  return,  consents  to  act  so  as  ttf 
render  bis  alliance  a  source  of  pleasure  to  all  concerned.     Is  it  not 

80?" 

"That  seems  to  be  implied,"  said  the  Captain.  "  But  I  have  to 
make  one  stipulation,  which  is,  that  as  I  have  certain  scrupk^  on  the 
subject,  we  must  have  this  murrioge  celebrated  according  to  the 
rites  (jf  the  Churcli  of  England,  and  in  an  Knglish  church.  Vou  will 
consent  to  this  't  "  he  added,  addressing  Stanley. 

"  With  pleasure,"  rephed  Stanley.  **  I  shall  be  happy  in  any  wajr 
to  meet  your  views." 

"  Then  from  this  hour  not  a  single  word  on  the  subject  which  caused 
our  estrangement  shall  ever  escape  my  lips.  All  shall  be  as  if  I  had 
given  my  consent  in  the  lirst  instance ;  and  nothing  that  I  can  do  to 
promote  the  happiness  of  you  both  shall  be  left  undone."  | 

"  Excellent !  "  cried  th*-  General.     *'  When  is  it  to  be  ?  " 

"  As  early  as  you  please,"  replied  Stanley.  "  Perhaps  the  sooner 
the  better." 

''  Well,  then,  let  me  see,"  said  the  Capuin,  "  ti>-morraw  ia  Satur- 
day,—  the  licence  can  be  procured  in  the  morning.  Suppose  we  say 
Monday?  The  thing  can  be  confined  to  ourselves,  und  we  can  all  dine 
at  Richmintd,  and  be  happy.     Shall  it  be  so  ?  " 

Stanley  at  once  consented,  and  the  preliminaries  were  discussed  and 
Butis factor ily  arranged  ;  and  when  the  arrangement  was  communicated 
lu  Amelia,  &he  experienced  the  truest,  the  purest  delight. 


217 


GUY  FAWKES. 

AH    niSTORTCAL   SOMANCS. 

BY  W.  irARRlSON  AINSWORTU,  ESy. 

ILLt'STJUTCD   nr   GKUROE   CKUIKbttAMK. 


BOOK  TUB  PineT. 

CHAPTEB  XVIII. 
TtJEBXPLANATIOH. 

Urrsanfc  an  exclamation  of  rage^  Catesby  luroed   fiercely 
111'        ■"      '         iind  for  a  inoincnt  apjiearcd  diitpowd    to  aceept- 
h.  -J  eontiilue  the  combat  with  bint.     Hut  as  he  re-' 

gacdnl  ti»L*  iiiher's  hft;;f;ard  features,  and  perceived  in  them  the 
traces  of  his  reccut  struggle  with  death,  —  as  he  saw  he  was 
■carerly  able  to  wield  the  olade  he  opposed  against  hini>  —  his 

»r-''    -^ d  to  compassion,  and  he  sheathed  his  sword.     By 

till  phrey  Chelham  bud  sprung  to  his  feet,  and  pick** 

ii  JaUeti   weapon,    .stood  on   his  defence.     But  Ending! 

t>.  Uy  meditated  no  further  hostilities,  he  returned  it  to 

ibr  scsbbard. 

**  I  owe  my  life  to  you,"  he  said  to  Guy  Fawkes,  in  a  tone 
df  deep  {gratitude. 

"  \  ou  owe  it  to  Viviana  Radcliffe,  not  to  me,"  returned 
Fawkea  feebly,  and  leaning  upon  his  sword  for  Rupport.  *'  Had 
it  ooC  bcTD  for  her  cries,  1  t>hould  have  known  nothing  of  this 
quBirel.  And  1  would  now  gladly  learn  wliat  huii  occasioned 
it?'* 

"  And  I,"^  otlded  Chetbam ;  "  for  I  am  as  ignorant  as  yuur- 
adf  how  1  have  offended  Mr.  Catesby.** 

**1  will  tell  you,  then,*"  returned  Catesby,  sternly.  "You 
were  a  party  to  the  snare  Kt  fur  us  by  Doctor  Dee,  from  winch 
I  oarrowlv  escaped  with  life,  and  Father  Garnet  at  the  expense 
of  a  broken  limb." 

**  la  Garnet  hurt  ?  "^  demanded  Fawkes,  anxiously. 

••  Grierouily/'  replied  Catesby  ;  "  but  he  is  out  of  the  reach 
of  hi«  enetiiieB,  of  whom,^  he  added,  pointing  to  Chetham, 
"  one  of  the  most  malignant  and  treacherous  now  stands  be- 
foce  YOU." 

••  I  am  quite  in  the  dark  as  to  what  has  hnppcnetl,**  obi*erved 
Fawkes*  **  having  only  a  few  minutes  ago  been  roubeti  from  my 
diimbvn  by  the  shrieKs  of  Viviana,  who  entreated  nie  to  come 
■nd  iqMrate  you.  Hut  I  cannot  believe  Humphrey  Chctham 
lo  lreai:ht;ruut(  us  you  represent  him." 

"Ko  far  from  luiviiig  any  enmity  towards  Father  Garnet,** 
obeerrod  Chetliam,  "*  my  anxious  desire  was  to  pru&ervc  luiu ; 

r9L*  viii.  4 


CUT    FAWCES. 


tmtit  tlwt  Timr,  I  was  repairing  lo  Doctor  Dee,   whrn' 

Mr.  Catesby  in  the  hall,  and,  before  1  cuuld  offer 
[  explaoarioQ,  I  was  forced  by  his  violeoce  and  insults  into 
'thbooatfaat." 

•*  U  this  the  truth,  Catesby-  ?  "  asked  Fawkes-  i 

"Something  near  it/  rejoined  the  latter;  "but  j>erhaps  Mr. 
Chetham  wil]  likewise  inform  you  by  whose  agency  A'iviajia 
was  iransportctl  hither  from  the  Collegiate  Church  ?" 

^'  That  inquiry  ought  rather  to  be  made  of  the  lady  herself, 
air,'*  retumeo  Chetham,  coldly.  *'  But,  as  I  am  assured  she 
would  have  no  objection  to  my  answering;  it,  I  shall  not  hesitate 
to  do  so.  She  was  conveyed  hither  by  Kelley  and  an  assistant, 
who  departed  as  soon  as  their  Cask  was  completed." 

**  Indeed!"  exclaimed  Catesby  between    hi*  ground   teeth. 
*^  But  how  chanced  it»  sir,  that  you  ariived  here  so  oppor- 1 
tunely?" 

"  I  might  well  refuse  to  answer  a  question  thus  inftolentlv 
put,"  rejoined  Chethani.  "But,  to  prevent  further  misunder^ 
standing,  I  will  tell  you,  that  I  came  by  Viviana^s  invitation  at 
midnight ;  and,  ascertaining  from  ray  servant,  Martin  llcydockc, 
whom  I  found  watching  by  the  couch  of  Guy  Fawkes,  the  me- 
lancholy business  on  which  fthe  was  engagea,  I  determined  to 
await  her  return,  whic)i  occurred  about  an  hour  afterwards^  ia  , 
the  maimer  I  have  just  related,^  ( 

"  1  was  in  the  court-yard  when  Miss  RadclifTe  was  brought 
hack,*  interposed  Martin  Heydocke,  who  was  standing  at  a  re- 
!«.i>ectful  distance  from  the  group;  "and,  after  Kelley  had  do- 
livertt!  her  to  my  charge,  I  heard  him  observe  in  an  under  tone 
lu  his  companion,  *  het  us  ride  back  as  fast  as  we  can,  and 
see  what  they  have  done  with  the  prisoners.*'* 

'*  They  made  sure  of  their  prey  before  it  was  captured,"  ob- , 
«.i-rvcd  Calft^by,  bitterly.     "  l^ut  we  have  disappointed   them. 
Dt-v  und  his  associate  may  jet  have  reason  to  repent  their  per- 
fidy/* 

'*  You  will  do  well  not  to  put  yourself  again  in  their  power,* 
ob<iVj;vvd  Humphrey  Chetham.  *' If  you  will  lie  counselled  by 
OK,  Nvu  tiiul  Guy  Fawkcs  will  seek  safety  in  instant  lligbt." 

*' .VuJ  leave  you   with  Viviana?**  rejoined  Catesby,  sarcas- 

"  shi-  *«  in  tio  present  danger,'*  replied  Chetham.    "But,  if  it 

^',  or  desirable,  I  will  remain  witli  her.*' 

il>t  it,"  returned  Catesby,  with  a  sneer;  "but 

14,  nor  desirable.     And,  hark  ye,  young  adr,  if 

■  vl  any   expectations  with  regard  to   Vivians 

nil-  you  were  undeceived.     She  will  never  wed 

.  .:vv.  nor  of  your  faith." 

■•  I  issurance  she  will  never  wed  at  all,"  replied' 
^.MJl>i  tone.     *'  But  had  she  not  crushea  my 
^  .    *!k  was  vowed  lo  a  convent,  no  menaces  of 


CUY    FAWKES. 


21 D 


youra,  who  Iiavc  neither  right  nor  title  tlius  to  interfere,  should 
induce  me  to  desist  from  my  suit." 

*•  Either  resign  all  pretensions  to  her  hand,  or  prepare  to  re- 
new the  combat,"  cried  Cateaby,  fiercely. 

"  No  more  of  this  "  interposed  Guy  Fawkes.  "  Let  us  re- 
turn to  the  house,  and  adjust  our  difl'ercnces  there." 

*'  I  have  no  further  business  here,"  observed  Humphrey  Che- 
thun.  "  Having  taken  leave  of  Viviana,"  he  added,  with  much 
cmotiisn,  *'  I  do  not  desire  to  meet  her  again^ 

"  It  is  well,  sir,"  rejoined  Catesby  ;  "  yet  slay  ! — you  mean  us 
DO  treachery  ? " 

**  If  you  suspect  me  I  will  remain,'^  replied  Humphrey  Che- 
thun. 

"On  no  account/*  said  Guy  Fawkes.  "  I  will  answer  for 
him  with  my  life." 

**  IVrhaps.  when  I  tell  you  I  have  procured  the  liberation 
of  Father  Oldcorne,"  returned  Chetham,  "  aud  have  placed 
him  in  security  in  Ordsall  Cave,  you  will  admit  that  you  have 
done  me  wron^.*^ 

'*!  have  bi-on  fjreatly  mistaken  in  you,  sir,  I  must  own,"  said 
Cate»by,  advanciiij^  towards  him,  and  extending  his  hand.  But 
Humphrey  Chcthain  foldt'd  his  arms  upon  hisbrea-st,  and  bowing 
coldly,  withdrew.  He  waa  followed  by  Martin  Heydocke,  and 
pmently  afterwards  the  tramp  of  his  horse^s  feet  was  heard 

^croHiDg  the  drawbridge. 
wal 


CHAPTER    XIX. 


TUB      DISCOVEBV. 


TRNnrniso  his  arm  to  Fawkes,  who  was  almost  too  feeble  to 
walk  unsupported,  Catesby  led  him  slowly  to  the  hall.  On 
rcachiog  it,  thev  met  Viviana,  in  a  state  bordering  upon  distrac- 
titm,  hut  her  distress  was  speedily  relieved  by  their  assurances 
lluu  the  young  merchant  nod  departed  unhurt, — a  statement 
immnliately  afterwards  confinned  by  the  entrance  of  Martin 
Hrydocke,  charged  with  a  nic(>»age  from  his  master  to  her. 
Wuhtmt  communicating  his  design  to  the  others,  and,  indeed, 
almcMt  shunning  \'iviana,  Catesby  procecdetl  to  the  outbuilding 
where  he  hud  depoMted  Garnet.  He  found  him  in  great  pain, 
and  praying  fervently  to  be  released  from  his  suffering. 

"I>o  nut  despair,  father,"  Miid  Catesby,  in  as  cheerful  a  tone 
A.«  he  could  asKume,  "the  worst  is  over.  Viviana  iu  in  safety. 
Folltcr  <^>idt'ornc  \i&%  csuiped,  and  is  within  a  short  diHtanec  of 
us  iitid  Ijuy  Fuwkes  is  fully  able  to  undertake  a  journey  of 
soy  dirttjince.  You  are  our  sole  concern.  Itut  I  am  ussured,  tf 
you  will  allow  me  to  exerciw  the  slight  surgical  bkill  I  possess  in 
your  behalf,  that  you  will  l>e  able  tu  accompany  us." 

**-Do  wilb  mu  what  you   please,  my  sun,"  groaued  Garnet. 


GUY    FAWKBS. 


'*  But,  if  my  case  is  as  desperate  as  I  believe  it,  I  entreat  yi 
not  to  bestow  any  further  care  upun  me,  and,  above  all,  not  to 
expose  yourself  to  ri;ik  on  my  account.  Our  enemies  are  sure  to 
pursue  us»  —  and  what  matter  if  1  am  captured?  They  will 
wreak  their  ven^^eance  on  a  worthless  carcase, — for  auch  1  shall 
soon  be.  But  it  would  double  the  anguish  I  now  endure,  if  you 
and  Fawkes  were  to  fall  into  their  hands.  On,  then,  and  leave 
me  here  to  perish.  My  d3'ing  moments  will  be  cheered  by  the 
conviction  that  the  great  enterprise — for  wliich  alone  I  desire  to 
live — will  not  be  unaecomplit»hfd." 

"  There  is  no  need  to  leave  you,  father,*'  replied  Catesby,  ^a 
"  nor  shall  any  consideration  induce  oie  to  do  so,  till  I  have  ren-  ^H 
dercd  you  every  aid    that  circumstances  will  permit."  ^^ 

**  My  son."  replied  Garnet,  faintly,  "  the  most  cfBcacious  balm 
you  can  apply  will  be  the  ccrlainly  that  you  are  in  safety.  You 
say  Viviana  is  here.  Fly  with  Fawkcs,  and  leave  me  to  her 
care." 

"She  must  go  with  us,"  observed  Catesby,  uneasily. 

•*  Not  so,  my  son,"  returned  Garnet ;  "  her  presence  will  only 
endanger  you.  She  must  not  go.  And  you  must  abandon  aU 
hopes  of  an  union  with  her." 

*'  I  would  as  soon  abandon  the  great  design  itself,**  returned 
Catesby,  moodily. 

"  If  you  persist  in  this,  you  will  ruin  it,"  rejoined  Garnet. 
"ThiiiK  of  her  no  more.  Itend  your  thoughts  exclusively  on 
the  one  grand  object,  and  be  what  you  are  chosen  to  be,  the 
defender  and  deliverer  of  our  holy  Church." 

*'  I  would  gladly  act  as  you  advise  uie,  father,"  replied  Catcfr. 
by  ;  **  but  I  am  spcll-lHiund  by  this  maiden." 

"  This  is  idle  from  you,  my  sou,"  replied  Garnet,  reproach- 
fully. "  Separate  yourself  from  her,  and  you  will  won  regain 
your  former  mastery  over  yourself.** 

**Well,  well,  father,"  rejoined  Catesby,  "  the  effort,  at  least, 
shall  be  made.  But  her  large  pusse.ssions,  which  wfiuld  be  so 
useful  to  our  cause,  and  whicJi  if  I  wedded  her  would  be  wholly 
devoted  to  it — think  of  what  we  lose,  father.** 

**  1  have  thought  of  it,  my  son,"  replied  Garnet ;  "  but  the 
consideration  does  nut  alter  my  opinion.  And  if  I  possess  any 
authority  over  you,  1  strictly  enjoin  you  not  to  proceed  farther 
in  the  matter.     Viviana  never  can  be  yours.** 

'*  She  shaU  be,  nevertheless,**  muttered  Catesby,  '*  and  Iwfore 
many  hours  have  elapsed,  —  if  not  by  lier  own  free  will,  by 
force.  I  have  ever  shown  myself  obedient  to  your  commands, 
father,"  he  added  aloud,  "and  I  shall  not  transgress  them  now,"™ 

"Heaven  keep  you  in  this  disposition,  my  dear  8<«i!"  ex- 
claimed Garnet.  "  And  let  me  recommend  you  to  remove  youi^ 
self  as  soon  as  possible  out  of  the  way  of  temptation.** 

Catesby  muttercii  an  afhrniative,  and  taking  Garnet  in  his 
arms,  conveyed  him  carefully  to  his  own  cbaml^,  uud  placing 


GUY   FAWKES. 


221 


him  on  n  couch,  examined  his  wounds,  which  were  not  so  se- 
rious as  eilliep  he  or  the  sufferer  had  itnagiued,  and  with  no 
despicable  skill — for  the  experiences  of  a  snltlier's  h*fe  had  given 
him  some  practice — bandaged  his  broken  arm,  and  fomcntol  his 
bruises. 

This  done,  Garret  felt  so  much  easier,  that  he  entreated  Ca- 
tesbjr  to  send  Viviana  to  him,  and  to  make  preparations  fur  his 
own  immediate  dej)arture.  Feigning  acquiescence,  Cntcsby  quit- 
ted the  room,  but  he  had  no  intention  of  complying  with  the 
rrquest.  Not  a  moment  he  felt  must  be  lost  if  he  would  exe- 
cute his  dark  design,  and,  after  revolving  many  wild  expedients, 
an  idea  occurred  to  him.  It  M'as  to  lure  Viviana  to  the  cave 
where  Father  OlHcomc  was  concealed  ;  and  he  knew  enough  of 
the  pliant  dis|>usi(ion  of  the  latter  to  be  certain  he  would  as- 
■enl  to  his  scheme.  No  sooner  did  this  plan  occur  to  him  than 
he  hurried  to  the  cell,  and  found  (he  priest,  as  Chotham  had 
staled.  As  he  had  foreseen,  it  require<l  little  persuasion  to  in- 
duce Oldcorne  to  lend  his  assistance  to  the  forced  marriage,  and 
he  only  feared  the  decided  opposition  thiy  should  encounter 
from  Vivianx 

"  Fear  nothing,  then,  father,**  said  Catesby  ;  **  in  this  solitary 
»pot  no  one  will  hear  her  cries.  Whatever  resistance  she  may 
QUike,  perform  the  ceremony,  and  leave  the  consequences  to 
roc." 

"  The  plan  is  desperate,  my  son,"  returned  OMcorne,  "  but 
so  are  our  fortunes.  And,  as  Viviana  will  not  hear  reason,  we 
h«TC  no  alteniative.  You  swear  that  if  you  are  once  wetlded  to 
her,  all  her  possessions  slioll  be  devoted  to  the  furtherance  of 
the  grr*t  cause.  "^ 

**  AU,  father — I  swear  it,**  rejoined  Catesby,  fervently. 
*' Enough,"  replied  Oldcorne.    "The  sooner  it  is  done,  the 
brtter." 

It  was  then  agreed  between  them  that  the  plan  least  likely 
to  excite  suspicion  would  be  for  Oldcorne  to  proceed  to  the 
hall,  and  uudL-r  some  plea  prevail  upon  Viviana  to  return  with 
htm  to  the  cave.  Acting  upon  this  arrangement,  they  left  the 
cell  together,  shaping  their  course  under  the  trees  to  avoid  ub- 
KTvation  ;  and  while  Oldcorne  repaired  to  the  hall,  Catesby  pro- 
ceeded to  ihc  stable,  and  saddling  the  only  steed  left,  rode 
hock  to  the  cave,  and  concealing  tnL-  animal  behind  the  brush. 
wood,  entered  the  excavation.  It  was  long  before  the  others 
arrived,  and  as  in  his  present  feverish  state  of  mind  moments 
appeared  ages,  the  suspense  was  almost  intolerable.  At  length 
he  hrani  ffxitstrps  approaching,  and,  with  a  beating  heart,  dis- 
tinguished the  voice  of  ^^iviana.  The  place  was  buried  in  pro- 
iound  darkness ;  but  Oldcorne  struck  a  light,  and  set  fire  to  a 
candle  in  a  lantern.  The  feeble  glimmer  diffuse<l  by  this  light 
was  Dot  Huffieicnt  to  jjcnctratc  the  recesses  of  the  cavern;  and 
ColHby,  wImj  stiwil  at  the  farther  extremity,  was  completely  shcl- 
i  1«rcd  from  observation. 


220 


"  But, 

not  to 
ex  post 
pursiti 

soon  1 
and  1  . 
me  1. 
com : 
livc- 

"  IKir 

((  ^ 
you  f 
say  ^ 
cart.-.' 


entli- 
hop 

Cat: 

tllA 


_   -ivTSclf,  with 

.  .  ncj  u?.cd  by 

::  iniiiunication 

..U'  or'ini|X)rtancc 

uki  scarcely  con- 

■ju  liitluT,  w!ure  I 

-•  with  you  vv.  a  >ub- 

.  '.'jr  being  taken  iVoui 

::-i  secret   wishes  and 

-..me  bis  jdace." 

..:;.-r,  dear  sir,"  rcpliid 

I.-  inii>licitly  as  I  wtmld 

.."  returned  OUUiirno.  n- 

..L'-T  hesitate  to  declare  the 

Yiui  will  recollect  llutt  I 

.:    iiileiitiuii  of  retiring  to  a 

'.iviana,  "  but " 

.-.  rnc  ;  *'  ncLiU  events  have 

.  ■•tep.     Vou  are  now  called 

.ike  your  sluuv  in  the  bu.-i- 

.  'ulier  like  otliers,  —  and  not 

.mm  yiui  by  Hravcn." 

•.*'  repHid  Viviana;  '*  and  if 

.  :iri»|)osc,  I  would  not  heailatc 

■iink  under  it." 

■V.  who  could  nflnrd  you   that 

.%er  requires/'    returned   Uld- 

iniptired  A'iviana,   fixin<^'   bcr 

^ull^hter,*'   returned    ( >ldcorne, 
man,  who  will  be  to  you  what 

-  that  you   bronj;ht   nie  here  r " 
.  "uled  tone. 

«Mdcorne;  **  but  I  have  not  vet 
•  :  should  marry,  but  vnur  ehnin.' 
■'.,111  your  father,  ami  have  vour 
•  approvf." 
.-.  1  doubt  not  ?  "  remarked  Vivi- 

■  ;\'turnL'd  Oideorne;   '*  a  irtntk-- 
,-it»n,  yiars,— lor  V'""'  husband 
\  :\ian:i.'' 
.■.>;and  you,  fatiier,"  slu-  rcj)liid  ; 


OUV    FAWKES. 


223 


**Yoii  have  guessed  aright,  dear  daughter,**  rejoined  Old- 
corae. 

'*  I  thought  I  had  made  myself  suffieiently  intelligible  on  this 
point  before,  father,"  she  returned. 

•'  True,**  replied  Uldcorce ;  *'  but  you  are  no  longer,  as  I  have 
just  laboured  to  convince  you,  in  the  same  position  you  were 
wh«rn  the  subject  was  formerly  discussed.^ 

"To  prevent  further  misunderstanding,  father,"  said  Vivi- 
ina,  *^  I  now  tell  you,  that  in  whatever  position  I  may  be 
placed,  1  will  never,  under  any  circumstances,  wed  Mr.  Catcs- 

**  What  are  your  objections  to  him,  daughter  ?  **  asked  Old- 
oorne. 

"They  are  numberless,"  reph'ed  Viviana;  "but  it  is  useless 
to  particularize  them.  I  mu!^t  pray  you  to  change  the  conver- 
Mtion^  or  you  will  compel  mu  to  quit  you." 

"Nay,  daughter,  if  you  thus  obstinately  shut  your  ears  to 
reattoa,  1  must  use  very  different  language  towards  ynu.  Arm- 
ed with  parental  authority,  I  shall  exact  obedience  to  my  com- 
mand^*" 

"  I  cannot  obey  you,  father,"  replied  Viviana,  bursting  into 
Umn, — **  indeed,  indeed  I  cannot.  My  heart,  1  have  already  told 
yoii,  18  another's." 

'•  He  who  ha.s  robbed  you  of  it  is  a  heretic,"  rejoined  Old- 
come,  sternly,  **  and  tiiercfore  your  union  with  him  is  out  of  the 
question.  Promise  me  you  will  wed  Mr,  Catesby,  or,  in  the 
name  of  your  dead  father  I  will  invoke  a  curse  upon  your  head 
Promise  me,  I  say." 

*'  Nrver,"  replie<l  Viviana,  rising.  '*  My  father  would  never 
have  enforced  my  compliance,  and  I  dread,  no  curw:  thus  impi- 
outljr  pronounced.  You  are  overstepping  the  bounds  of  your 
priestly  office,  sir.     Farewell.'^ 

As  she  moved  to  depart,  a  strong  grasp  was  laid  on  her  arm, 
and  turning,  she  beheld  Catesby. 

**  You  here,  sir  I  "  she  cried,  in  great  alarm. 

*•  Ay,''  rvpUed  Catesby.  *'  At  last  you  are  in  my  power,  Vi- 
Ttana." 

"  I  would  fain  misunderstand  you,  sir,**  said  Viviana,  trem- 
bling; "  but  your  hioks  terrify  me.     You  mean  no  violence." 

"I  mean  that  Father  Oldcorne  shall  wed  us,  —  and  that 
without  a  moment'.s  delay,"  replied  Catesby,  sternly. 

"  Monster  !  "shrieked  Viviana,  "you  will  not, — Jare  not  com- 
mit this  foul  offence.  And  if  you  dare.  Father  Oldcorne  will 
nnl  su^ut  you.  Ah  !  what  meantt  that  sign  ?  I  cannot  be  mii^- 
tokcn  in  you,  father?  You  <annot  be  acting  in  concert  with 
ihis  wicked  man  ?     Save  me  from  him  i — save  me  t " 

But  the  priest  kept  aloof,  and  taking  a  missal  from  his  ve^t, 
btatily  turned  over  the  leaves.  A'ivinna  saw  that  her  appeal  to 
turn  wo*  in  vain. 


GUT   FAWKES. 


**!>*  •"-  '^  t**  she  shrieked,  struggling  with  Catesby*  **  You 
caaift"  ne  tu  wed  you  whether  I  will  or  not ;  and  1  will 

dlft  n*lier  uian  consent.     Let  nie  go,  I  say  I     Help  !  —  help  ! " 
amk^ihmtaatAe  the  cavern  ring  with  her  screams. 

^  iUvd  her  not,  father,"  shouted  Catesby,  who  still  held  her 
fa»i-  "  but  proceed  with  the  ceremony." 

ieome}    however,    appeared    irresolute,   and  \^viana  per- 
i^vLii^  it,  redoubled  her  cries. 

**  Tnis  will  be  no  marriage,  father,"  she  said,  **  even  if  you 
proceed  with  it.  I  will  protest  against  it  to  all  the  world,  aud 
You  wlU  be  deprived  of  your  priestly  office  for  your  share  in  so 
infamous  a  transaction.^ 

•*  You  will  think  otherwise  anon,  daughter,"  replied  Oldcome, 
Iranc'ing  towards  them  with  the  missal  in  his  hand. 

If  it  be  no  marriage,^  observed  Catesby,  significantly, 
**  the  time  will  come  when  you  may  desire  to  have  the  ceremony 
repeated." 

"  Mr.  Catesby,"  cried  Viviana,  altering  her  manner,  as  if  she 
had  taken  a  sudden  resolution,  **  one  word  before  you  proceed 
with  vour  atrocious  purpose,  which  must  end  in  misery  to  us 
all.    ^here  are  reasons  why  you  can  never  wed  mc.^ 
**  Ha  !  "  exclaimed  Catesby,  starting. 
"  Is  it  so,  my  son  ?  ^  asked  Oldcorne,  uneasily. 
"  Pshaw  !  "  exclaimed  Catesby.     "  She  knows  not  what  8be 
says.     Proceed,  father." 

**  1  have  proofs  that  will  confound  you,"  cried  Viviana,  break- 
ing from  liim.  And  darting  towards  the  light,  she  took  from 
her  bosom  the  packet  given  her  by  Guy  Fawkes,  and  tore  it 
o(icu.     A  letter  was  within  it,  and  a  miniature. 

Opening  the  letter,  she  cast  her  eye  rapidly  over  its  contents, 
aud  tluMj  looking  up,  exclaimed  in  accents  of  delirious  joy, 
**  gloved  I  saved !  FatherOldcorne,  this  man  is  married  already  I  *" 
CatviNby,  who  had  watched  lier  proceedings  in  silent  astonish- 
luviit-,  and  WHS  now  advancing  towards  her,  recoiled  as  if  a  thun- 
deilKiU  hjd  fallen  at  hia  feet. 

**'  K'iui  this  be  true  ?  "  cried  the  priest,  in  astonishment. 
'*  Lv't  \our  own  eyes  convince  you,"  rejoined  Viviana,  band- 
ibfg  hint  Li>c  letter. 

"*  1    tiu  atikfied,^  said  Oldcorne,  after  he  had  glanced  at  it. 
vc  both  been  spared  the  commission  of  a  great  crime. 
'^-    it  appears  from  this  letter  that  you  nave  a  wife 
■  '\. 

•  deny  it,^'  replied  Catesby.    **  But,  as  you  were 
natter,   the  offence  (if  any)  would  hnve  lain 

.Kia  ;  nor  should  I  have  repented  of  it,  if  it  had 
_,___  *i.liieve  the  object  1  have  in  view.** 

•  it  has  gone  no  farther  f  "  exclaimed  Oldcorne. 
Mv  entreat  your  forgiveness." 

piicket  into  your  possession  .*"  demanded 


QUy   FAWKES. 


225 


"  Jt  was  given  me  by  Guy  Fawkes,**  she  replied. 

"Guy  Fawkes !  "  exclaimed  Catesby.  "Has  he  betrayed 
bu  friend  ?  " 

"  He  has  proved  himself  your  best  friend,  by  preventing  you 
from  committing  a  crime,  which  would  have  entailed  wretched- 
Dess  on  yourself  and  me,"  returned  Viviana. 

**  I  have  done  with  him,  and  with  all  of  you,^  cried  Catesby, 
with  a  fierce  glance  at  Oldcorue.  *'  Henceforth,  pursue  your 
projects  alone.  You  shall  have  no  further  assistance  from 
me.  I  will  serve  the  Spaniard.  Kngtishmen  are  nut  to  be 
trusted/* 

So  saying,  he  rushed  out  of  the  cavern,  and  seeking  hia  horsei 
mounted  him,  and  rode  olfat  full  speed. 

**  How  shall  I  obtain  your  forgiveness  for  my  conduct  in  this 
culpable  affair,  dear  daughter  ?  ^  said  Oldcorne,  with  an  im- 
ploring look  at  Viviana. 

"  By  joining  me  in  thanksgivings  to  the  Virgin  for  my  deli- 
verance,*' replied  Viviana,  protitraling  herself  before  the  stone 
cross* 

Oldcornc  knelt  beside  her,  and  they  continued  for  some  time 
ni  earocst  prayer.  They  then  arose>  and  quitting  the  cave,  pro- 
ceeded to  the  haU. 


CHAFTEB   XX. 
TBB    DEPARTURE    FROM    THE    HALX., 

Girr  Fawkes  was  as  much  surprised  to  hear  of  the  sudden 
departure  of  Catesby  as  he  was  concerned  at  the  cause  ;  but  he 
•till  thought  it  probable  he  would  return.  In  this  expectation, 
however,  he  was  disappointetl.  The  day  wore  on,  and  no  one 
cmme.  The  uncertainty  in  which  Fawkes  was  kept,  added  to  his 
unwilliDgness  to  leave  Garnet,  still  detained  him,  in  spite  of  the 
risk  be  ran,  at  the  hall ;  and  it  was  only  when  urged  by  Viviana 
ihat  he  began  seriously  to  reflect  whither  he  should  bend  his 
steps.  Towards  evening.  Garnet  was  so  much  better,  tliat  he 
won  able  to  ait  up,  and  be  passed  some  hours  in  conference 
wiUi  Oldcorne. 

"  If  1  do  not  suffer  a  relapBc,"  he  observed  to  the  latter,  "  1 
irUl  set  out  with  (.tuy  Fawkes  to-morrow,  and  we  will  proceed  by 
easy  stages  to  London.** 

**  I  cannot  hut  approve  your  resolution,'*  returned  Oldcorne  ; 
"  for  though  5o  lung  a  journey  may  be  inconvenient,  and  re- 
tard your  recovery,  yet  every  hour  you  remain  here  is  fraught 
with  ndditiunal  peril  I  will  accom)jany  you.  We  shall  both 
beiafcr  in  the  capital;  and  ]>crhup}j  Viviana,  now  she  will  be 
ao  longer  ex|H>u.-d  to  the  persecutions  of  CatcEiby,  will  form  one 
of  the  [wrty." 

"  1  ftliould  not  wonder,"  replied  Garnet.  "  I  shall  be  deeply 
coQcemed  if  Catesby  ha^  really  abandoned  the  euli-rpribe.     liut 


S96 


GUY    FAWKES. 


from 


I  cannot  think  it.  I  did  fdl  I  couM  to  dissuade  I 
aecuting  this  union,  knowing  how  hopeless  it  was,  and  little 
tliioking  he  would  he  ra&Ii  (.-nouj^h  to  seek  tu  accomplish  it  by 
force,  or  that  he  would  find  an  assistant  in  you." 

**  Say  no  more  about  iU  fnther,  1  entreat  you,"  rejoined  Old- 
corne.  "  The  scheme  failed,  as  it  deserved  to  do ;  and  I  sin- 
cerely repent  the  share  I  was  induced  by  Catesby's  artful  repre- 
sentations to  take  in  it.  If  we  have  lost  our  leader,  we  have  still 
Guy  Fawkes^  who  is  a  host  in  himself,  and  as  true  as  the  steel 
that  hangs  by  his  side." 

"He  js,"  replied  Garnet;  "but  we  cannot  spare  Catesby* 
With  many  faults,  he  has  one  redeeming  quality,  courage.  I 
am  not  sorry  he  has  been  thwarted  in  his  present  schcnief  as  if 
he  returns  to  us,  as  I  doubt  cot  he  will,  it  will  fix  his  mind 
steadily  on  the  one  object,  which  should  be  ever  before  it.  Give 
me  your  arm,  father.  I  am  glad  to  find  I  can  walk,  though 
feebly.  Thnt  is  well,'"  he  added,  as  they  emerged  upon  the  gal- 
lery ;  "  I  shall  be  able  to  reach  Viviana's  chamber  without  fur- 
ther assistance.  Do  you  descend,  and  see  that  Martin  Uey- 
docke  is  nn  the  watch.'^ 

In  obedience  to  the  injunctions  of  his  superior,  Oldcome  went 
in  search  of  Martin  Heydocke,  who  had  l)een  stationed  in  the 
court-yard  to  give  timely  notice  of  any  hostile  approach  ;  but, 
not  finding  him  there,  he  proceeded  towards  the  drawbridge- 
Garnet,  meanwhile,  had  reached  the  door  of  Viviana's  chamber, 
which  was  slightly  ajar,  and  he  was  about  to  pasA  through 
it,  when  lie  perceived  that  she  was  on  her  knees  before  Guy 
Fawkes,  whom  she  was  addressing  in  t)ie  most  pussitinule  terms. 
The  latter  was  seated  at  a  table,  with  his  head  upon  his  hand, 
in  a  thoughtful  posture.  Ama/cd  at  this  sight,  and  curious 
to  hear  what  Viviana  could  be  saying,  Garnet  drew  back  to 
listen. 

"  When  you  quit  this  house,''  were  the  first  words  tliat  caught 
the  listener^i  attention,  "  wc  shall  never  meet  again;  and,  oh! 
let  me  have  the  consolation  of  thinking  that,  in  return  for  the 
devoted  attachment  you  have  shown  me,  find  the  dangers  from 
which  you  have  preserved  nie,  that  I,  in  return,  have  preserv- 
ed you  from  one  equally  imminent.  Catesby,  from  whatever 
motive,  has  abandoned  the  conspiracy.  Do  you  act  likewise, 
and  the  whole  dreadful  scheme  will  fall  to  the  ground.** 

*' Catesby  cannot  abandon  it,'"  replied  Fawkes.  '*  He  is 
bound  by  ties  that  no  human  power  can  sunder.  And,  however 
he  may  estrange  himself  from  us  now,  when  the  time  fur  action 
arrives,  rest  assured  he  will  not  be  absent." 

"  It  may  be  so,"  replied  Viviana  ;  "  but  I  deny  that  the  oath 
either  he  or  you  have  taken  is  binding.  The  deed  you  have 
sworn  to  do  is  evil,  and  no  vow,  however  solemnly  pronounced, 
can  compel  you  to  commit  crime.  Avoid  this  sin  —  avoid  fur- 
ther connection   with    those    who  would   work   your  undoing, 


4 


4 


0V\   FAWKES. 


237 


and  do  not  stain  your  soul  with  guilt  from  which  it  will  never 
be  cleansed." 

'*  You  seek  in  vain  to  move  me," replied  Guy  Fawkes,  firmly. 
"  My  purpose  is  unalterable.  The  tempest  that  clears  away  the 
pestilence  destroys  many  innocent  livef,  but  it  is  not  the  less 
wholesome  un  that  account.  Our  unhappy  land  is  chdked  with 
the  pestilence  of  heresy,  and  must  be  freed  from  it,  cost  what  it 
will,  and  suffer  who  may.  The  wrongs  of  the  English  Catholics 
imperatively  demand  redress;  nnd,  since  it  is  denied  us,  we 
mu6t  lake  it.  Oppression  can  go  no  further  ;  nor  endurance  hold 
out  longer.  If  this  blow  be  not  struck  we  shall  have  no  longer 
t  reli^un.  And  how  comes  it,  Viviana,  that  you,  a  zealous 
Cathohc,  whose  father  perished  by  these  very  oppressors,  and 
who  are  youmelf  in  danger  from  them,  can  seclc  to  turn  roc 
from  my  pur)Ki6e  ?  " 

••Because  1  know  it  is  wrongful,"  replied  Viviana.  *'  I  have 
no  desire  to  aven^  the  death  of  my  slaughtered  father,  still 
less  to  sec  our  religion  furthered  by  the  dreadful  means  you 
propose.     In  his  own  due  season,  the  Lord  will  redress  our 

"  The  Lord  has  appointed  me  one  of  the  ministers  of  his  ven- 
geanoe,*"  cried  Kawkes,  in  a  tone  of  enthusiasm. 

**  Do  not  deceive  yourself,"  returned  Viviana,  "  !t  is  not 
far  bcaven,  but  by  the  powers  of  darkness,  that  you  are  in- 
atcd  to  this  deed.  Do  not  persevere  in  this  fatal  course,"  she 
contiouefi»  clasping  her  band^i  together,  and  gazing  imploringly 
in  his  face,  "  do  not — do  not !  ** 

Guy  Fawkcs  continued  in  the  same  attitude  as  before,  with 
fail  gaze  turned  upwards,  and  apparently  lost  in  thought. 

"Have  I  no  power  to  move  you  ?  "  cried  Viviana,  her  eyes 
fttreaming  with  tears. 

"  None  whatever,"  replied  Guy  Fawkes,  firmly. 

•*  Then  you  are  lost,"  she  rcjomed. 

•*lf  it  18  heaven's  will,  1  am,"  said  Fawkes;  **  but  at  least 
I  believe  that  I  am  acting  rightly." 

•*  And  rest  asBurcd  you  are  so,  my  son,"  cried  Garnet,  throw- 
tag  open  (he  door,  and  stepping  into  the  room.  "  I  have  over- 
heara  your  conversation,  and  1  applaud  your  resohilion.'" 

•*  You  need  have  no  feors  of  me,  father,"  replied  Fawkes.  "  1 
do  noC  lightly  undertake  a  project ;  but  once  embarked  in  it, 
nothing  can  turn  me  airide." 

"  In  this  case  your  determination  is  wisely  formed,  my  son," 
ttid  (iarnet ;  "  and  if  Viviana  will  ever  give  me  an  opportunity 
of  fully  discussing  the  matter,  I  am  sure  I  can  satisfy  lier  you 
arc  in  tiie  ri^ht.** 

**  I  will  discuss  it  with  you  whenever  you  think  propefj"  she 
nrplied,  "  But  no  arguments  will  ever  convince  me  that  your 
project  is  approved  by  heaven." 

"  Let  it  pass  now,  daughter,"  rejoined  Garnet ;  '*  enougli  has 


M^er  to  tcU  Guy  Fawkcs, 

ni^ht  without  molesbK 

i   diiuk  I  shall  be  stroi^ 

nr,  when  I  propose  that  ire 


j^aupBBT  U9,*^  pursued  Garnet. 

...  vnu,  if  jou  will  permit  me,'"  &ud 

?rc,  and  I  have  no  further  fean 

r  imd  me  that  my  future  fate  was 

a  uc  Guy  Fawkes.     I  know  not  bow 

.  tibamdon  him  while  there  is  a  hope 

mini  Guy  Fawkes,  coldly,  **  deeply  as 

I  me,  I  think  it  right  to  tell  you  that 

i    ijake  me  from  my  purpose.    If  I  live, 

^e  you  to  it,"  remarked  Garnet. 
_  iissuadcyou  from  it,"  added  Vivians. 
lain  the  victory." 
net,  smiling  confidently, 
.^joued  Viviana  ;  "  I  do  not  doubt  that 
I :  yet  still,  your  mode  of  life,  and  the 
,  w^m.  are  placed,  may  nut  unnaturally  in- 
ib     Ttiat  this  may  no  longer  be  the  case, 
.  ;"ortune  at  your  disposal.    I  require  little 
^i  I  would,  if  possible,  save  one  to  whom 
amb  I  value  so  much,  from  destruction.^ 
i;r  generosity — to  give  it  its  lightest 
'luy  Fawkes,  in  a  voice  of  deep  emo- 
stanccs  I  should  reject  it, — under  the 
E»sitivcly,  because  the  offer,  kind  as 
my  poverty  leads  me  to  act  contrary 
;>  no  power  over  me.     I  regard  it  as 
-asily  have  won  it,  I  neglected  the 
!  would  ever  induce  me  to  commit  an 
i^roved,  so  none  will  deter  me  from 
Lj  my  duty." 

,11a,  sadly.     **  I  will  no  longer  ques- 
^  your  plan,  but  will  pray  Heaven  10 

n^pects  worthy  of  you,  daughter," 

offer,*'  said  Viviana,    looking  at 
« lU  not  decline  that  I  am  about  to 

.  kos  i»  some  surprise. 
,«;k\1  to  regard  you  as  a  daughter," 
■  Ikjel  my  own   father,  I  feel  tliat  I 


GUY    FAWKES. 


229 


need  Rome  protector,  and  I  would  gladly  make  choice  of  you,  if 
you  will  accent  the  office.'* 

•*  I  willingly  accede  to  your  request,  and  am  mucTi  flattered 
by  it,  Viviana,"  replied  Fawkes.  "I  am  a  homeless  man,  and 
a  friendless,  and  the  affection  of  such  a  being  as  yourself  will  litl 
up  the  only  void  in  my  heart.  But  I  am  wedtfcd  to  the  great 
ouue.     1  can  never  be  more  to  you  than  a  father." 

**  Nays  I  asked  notliing  more,"  replied  Viviana,  blushing 
deeply. 

•*  Having  thus  arranged  the  terms  upon  which  vo  shall  tra- 
Td,**  said  Garnet,  with  a  smile,  *'  nothing  is  needed  hut  to  pre- 
pare for  our  journey.  Wc  start  early  to-morrow  morning." 
*•  I  ahall  be  ready  at  daybreak,"  replied  Viviana. 
"  And  I  am  ready  now,''  added  Guy  Fawkea.  '*  In  my  opi- 
nioDr  wc  run  great  risk  in  remaining  Iiere  another  night.  But 
be  it  as  you  will." 

At  this  moment,  they  were  interrupted  by  the  entrance  of  Fa- 
tlier  OJdcome,  who  with  a  countenance  of  great  alarm  informed 
them  (hat  he  aiuld  nowhere  find  Martin  Heydocke. 

**  Do  you  suspect  any  treachery  on  hia  part  ? "  asked  Oaniet 
of  Viviana. 

"  1  have  always  found  him  trustworthy,*" she  answered,  "and 
hia  father  was  my  father's  oldest  servant.  I  cannot  think  he 
Jd  betray  us.  At  the  same  time,  1  must  admit  Iiis  disap- 
■ance  at  tliis  juncture  looks  suspicious." 
"  If  my  strength  were  equal  to  it,"  said  Guy  Fawkes,  "  I 
would  keep  watch  throughout  the  night ;  but  that  might  pre- 
TCTil  me  from  accompanying  you  to-morrow.  My  advice,  1  re- 
nt, is — that  wc  should  set  out  at  once.'" 
This  opinion,  however,  was  overruled  by  Garnet  and  Viviana, 
rbo  did  not  think  the  dan;;er  so  urgent,  and  attributed  the  ab- 
enrc  of  Martin  Heydocke  to  some  unimportant  cause.  Guy 
Fawkes  made  no  further  remonstrance,  and  it  was  agreed  that 
should  start,  as  originally  proposed,  at  daybreak. 
he  party  then  separated,  and  Viviana  wandered  alone  over 
die  old  house,  taking  a  farewell,  which  she  felt  wuuld  be  her 
Ust,  of  every  familiar  object.  Few  thin<fs  were  as  she  had 
known  them,  but,  even  in  their  present  forlum  state  they  were 
t4tMT  to  her  ;  and  the  rooms  she  trod,  though  dismauUeJ,  were 
same  she  liad  occupied  in  cliildhood. 
Tbere  is  no  pang  more  acute  to  a  sensitive  nature  than  that 
scd  by  i|uittin>;  an  abode  or  spot  endeared  by  early 
tjons  and  associations,  to  which  wc  feel  a  strong  pre- 
skimeot  we  shuU  nevur  return.  Viviana  experienced  this  leel- 
iDg  tu  its  full  forcf,  and  she  lingered  in  each  ruom  as  if  she  hod 
;  not  the  power  to  leave  it.  Her  emotions,  at  length,  became 
>  overpowering,  that  to  relieve  them  she  strolled  fortli  into  (he 
irdrn.  Hure,  new  ubjects  awakened  her  attention,  and  n-called 
applet  times  with  painful  distiiKtQesfl.  Twilight  was  fast  deep* 


=-***r.---. 


328 

been  Baid  on  tlic 
that  if  our  cDenii< 
tion,  (as  Heaven 
enough  to  set  on 
should  journey  i 
"  Agreed,''  r 
"Father  Old 
"  And  I,  to<». 
Viviana.     "  I 
of  Mr.  Cateshv 
strangely  mixt 
that  may  be,  ''■ 
to  cling  to." 

**  Viviana  1 
I  feel  the  inti 
no  efforts  yin. 
I  will  execut 
"While  i 
"Andvvl 
«  We  shall 
"WesI). 
"Heart 
your  zeal 
difiicultio> 
fluence  y 
I  here  pi; 
or  nothii 
I  owe  fill 
«I  fi 
term — ^ 
tiou.     *' 
present. 
It  is,  si 
to  my  |: 
dross;  .1 
opportin 
action  11 
a  purpo 
_  "  Kii. 
tion  yoti 
open  VI'. 
"Yci. 
observL- 
"Yn; 
Fawkc- 
propoM 
«\Vi 
"It  ; 
repliL'tl 


.  -"tii   medium, 

^icening  and 

_^   ..  .  iood  of  tears 

.-  .;.  ind  the  whole 

:  nmes  lon^  ^go» 

Vrfumes,  it  is  well 

.  oiemory.     A  par- 

.::.  and  a  long  train 

^-c  when   it  was    first 

,-r  :  jrose,  Viviana  felt  a 

.  vz'xh  she  would  have 

-jI  of  her  power  to  con- 

id  at  length,  with  a  heart 

.  .irose  from  the  bench  011 

.  Tix-eeded  along  a  walk  to 

,     he  place. 

•  -cr  end  of  the  garden,  and 

.   -cme  fragrant  shrub,  when 

^  behind  a  tree  at   a  little 

_  .  A  vhich  was  that  of  a  soldier, 

...J.,  ind,  though  greatly  aJarm- 

s.«ani,  but  breaking  off  the 

.  ^  jiuation,  and  slowly  retraced 

:t'ar  that  tlic  soldier  was  fol- 

.^-:  oft'  at   full    speed   to   the 

_.  -.r,  he  did  not  stir.    On  reach- 

„j  not  resist  the  inclination  to 

.-  jhoulder,  perceived  that  the 

.   ,  «iie  moved,  lie  instantly  with- 

.    I'dse  was  to  close  and  fasten  the 
. »  Kawkcs's  chamber,  where  she 
_-!Ct   and    Oldcornc.     All    three 
_=.:ce.  agreeing  tliat  an  attack  was 
,;;  liS,  inull  probability,  concealed 
.tf  arrival  of  night  to  surprise  and 
'  ^^^e  of  the  younger  Heydocke  was 
'  ■'"  ^  Sx'n  secured  and  carried  off  by 
■■:»  from  giving  tht*  alarm.     The 
.^:  it  excited  consternation  amongst 
,x*'rvetl  Iiis  calmness. 
*  .    ..sc^L'd  to-night,"  ho  said,  "  and  I 
.^iivared.     Our  only  chance  is  to 
-!i>wi't^'^'  would  hii  in  vain,  as  their 
'^  ;uii  I  **'"  '*'*  iK'lpk'ss  as  an  infant, 
""'.^  ifui  precUulcs  any  assistance  from 
"*^^,j,^  leading  fn«n  ilio  oratory  to 
-- ^  ^  civing  been  stopped  up  liy  the 


GUY    FAWKES. 


331 


fluivftnt  and  hh  band,  it  will  be  necessary  to  cross  the  draw- 
C)nd^,  and  as  luxin  as  it  j^rows  sufficiently  dark,  we  must  make 
tlie  attempt.  We  have  no  horses,  and  must  trust  to  uur  own  exer- 
tions for  safetv-  Catesbv  would  now  be  invaluable.  It  is  not  like 
him  to  desert  his  friend?  at  the  season  of  their  greatest  necd.^ 

•*  Great  as  is  my  danger,"  observed  Viviano,  "  1  would  rather, 
so  far  as  1  am  concerned,  that^be  were  absent,  than  owe  my  pre- 
servation to  him.     I  have  no  fears  for  inysself." 

"  And  my  only  fears  are  for  you,"  rejoined  Fawkes. 

Half  an   hour  of  intense  anxiety   was    now  passed   by  the 

tarty.  Garnet  was  restless  and  uneasy.  Oldcome  betrayed 
is  dotation  by  unavailing  lamentations,  by  listening  to  every 
lound,  and  by  constantly  rushing  to  the  windows  to  recoo- 
Doitre,  until  he  was  checked  by  b'awkcs,  who  represente<l  to  him 
the  folly  of  his  conduct.  Viviana,  thnugh  ill  at  ease,  did  not  al- 
low her  terror  to  appear,  but  endeavoured  to  imitate  the  im- 
maveable  demeanour  of  Guy  Fawkes,  who  always  became 
more  collected  in  proportion  to  the  <langer  with  which  he  was 
environed. 

At  the  expiration  of  the  time  above-mentioned,  it  had  be- 
come quite  dark,  and  desiring  his  companions  to  follow  him, 
Guy  Fawkes  drew  his  swurd,  and,  grasping  the  hand  of  Vi- 
viaoa,  led  the  way  down  stairs.  Before  opening  tlie  door  he 
lUtmt^  intently,  and,  hearing  no  sound,  issued  cautiously 
forth.  The  party  had  scarcely  gained  the  centre  of  the  courts 
wlwti  A  petronel  was  discharged  at  them,  which,  though  it 
did  no  damage,  served  as  a  signal  to  the  rest  of  their  foes- 
Guy  Kawkes,  who  had  never  relinquished  his  hold  of  Viviana, 
oow  pressed  forward  as  rapidly  as  his  strength  would  per- 
mit, and  the  two  priests  fuUuwed.  But  loud  shouts  were  raised 
on  the  drawbridge,  and  it  was  evident  it  was  occupied  by  the 
caemy. 

Unoertain  what  to  do,  Guy  Fawkes  halted,  and  was  about  to 

Cum  to  the  house,  when  a  shout  from  behind  told  him  that 

'tr   retreat    was   intercepted.       In    this   dilemma   there   was 

atliing  for   it    but  to  attempt   to  force  a  passage  across  the 

iwbridge,  or   to   surrender  at  discretion,  and  though   Guy 

f'swkcs  would  not  at  other  seasons  have  hesitated  to  embrace 

mAt  former  ollemative,  he  knew  that  bis  strength  was  not  e(|ual 

to  it  now. 

While  he  was  internally  resolving  not  to  yield  himself  with 
life,  and  supporting  \'iviana,  who  clung  closely  to  him,  the 
■tter  of  hoofs  was  beard  rapidly  appn>uching  along  the  avc>- 
<  and  presently  afterwards  two  horsemen  galUipped  at  full 
d  toward  the   drawbridge.      This  sound  liad  likewise  at- 
ted  the  attention  of  the  enemy ;  who,  apprehensive  of  a 
Ifncne,  prepared  to  stop  them.     But  the  tremendous  pace  of 
ridera  rendered  this  im|x>8sible.      A  few  bUiwg  were  ex- 
■ged»  a  few  shots  fired,  and  they  had  crossed  the  draw- 
ridge. 


fsast 


GUY    FAWKE5. 


"  Who  coes  tWc  ? "  shouted  Guy  Fawkes,  as  the  horaemcn 
npproachea  him. 

"It  is  the  voice  of  Guy  Fawkes,''  cried  the  foremost,  whose 
tones  proclaimed  that  it  was  Catesby.  "They  are  here,"  he 
cried,  reining  in  his  steed. 

*'  Where  is  Viviana  ?  "  vociferated  his  companion,  who  was  no 
other  than  Humphrey  Chetham. 

"  Here — here,"  replied  Guy  Fawkes. 

With  the  quickness  of  thought,  the  young  merchant  was  by 
her  side,  and  in  another  moment  she  was  placed  nn  the  saddle 
before  him,  and  borne  at  a  lieadlong  pace  across  the  draw- 
bridge. 

"  Follow  me,'*  cried  Catesby.  "  I  will  clear  a  passage  for 
you.  Once  across  the  drawbridge,  you  are  sale.  A  hundred 
yards  down  the  avenue,  on  the  right,  you  will  find  a  couple  of 
norses  tied  to  a  tree.     Quick  !  quick  .'  " 

As  he  s[X)ke,  a  shot  whizzed  past  his  head,  and  a  tumultuous 
din  in  the  rear  told  that  their  pursuers  were  close  upon  them. 
Striking  spurs  into  his  steed,  Cdtcsby  dashed  forward,  aud  deal- 
ing blows  right  and  left,  cleared  the  drawbridge  of  its  occupants, 
many  of  whom  leaped  into  the  moat  to  escape  his  fury.  Uia 
companions  were  close  at  his  heels,  and  got  over  the  bridge  in 
safety. 

"  Fly  !— fly  I''  cried  Catesby, — "  to  the  horses— the  horses ! 
I  will  check  all  pursuit." 

So  saying,  and  while  the  others  flew  towards  the  avenue,  he 
faced  his  opponents,  and  making  a  desperate  charge  upon  ihesn, 
drove  them  backwards.  In  this  conflict,  tiiough  several  shots 
were  fired,  and  blows  aimed  at  him  on  all  sides,  he  sustained  no 
injury,  but  succeeded  in  defending  the  pass  sutBciently  long  to. 
enable  his  friends  to  mount. 

He  then  rode  ufl'  at  full  speed,  and  found  the  party  waitinfl 
for  him  at  the  end  of  the  avenue.  Father  Oldcume  was  seated 
on  the  same  steed  as  his  superior.  After  riding  witli  them  up 
wards  of  a  mile,  Humphrey  Chetham  dismounted,  and  resigning 
his  horse  to  Viviana,  bade  her  farewell,  and  disappeared. 

"  And  now,  to  London  !  "  cried  Catesby,  striking  into  a  road  > 
on  the  right,  and  urging  his  steed  to  a  rapid  pace. 

"  A^,  to  London  ! — to  the  Parliament-house! "  echoed  Fawkefy 
following  him  with  the  others. 


THE    BNO  OF  THS   FIB8T  BOOK. 


233 
PORTFOLIO  OP  MR.  PETER  POPKIN. 

DICKY    6DETT    IN   FAWN. 

SrcTT,  the  comedian,  had  one  son,  of  whom  he  was  very  fond. 
Tht  boy  bad  just  come  home  from  school  for  the  hoh'days  ;  and  walk- 
ihf  (luirn  the  Strand  with  his  father,  Suett  took  him  into  a  pa^try- 
(ook'i  shop  to  treat  him  to  some  tarts.  Al^er  the  lad  ha<l  eaten  as 
nuiy  S8  he  could,  Suett  put  his  hand  into  his  pocket  to  pay  for 
ibem,  when,  lo  !  there  was  no  money  there.  Suett  was  much  dis- 
concerted, and  said  to  the  woman  behind  the  counter,  "Oh,  la  I 
don't  you  know  nie,  my  dear  ?  " — "  No,  sir." — "  I  am  Mr.  Suett,  the 
comedian."  The  wuniau  replied  sulkily.  *'  She  could  not  help  that." 
—"Won't  you  trust  me,  marm?  "  said  Dicky  ;  but  the  lady's  look 
wai  enough,  and  lie  was  fain  to  send  his  son  home  for  the  money, 
while  be  remained  in  the  shop  till  his  return.  Here  he  ever  and 
anoo  poked  his  odd  face  out  at  the  door,  exclaiming,  "  O  la  !  ha  f 
hi!  Odear  !  la  !  Here  's  the  great  Mr.  Suett,  the  comedian,  in  pawn 
for  ten  penn'orth  of  tarts !  O  Ta !  only  think — ha  I  ha !  Pawned  for 
ten  penn'orth  of  tarts !  "  

WARU  PRTKNDS. 

Bernard,  the  pleasant  dramatic  author,  was  describing  an  evening* 
be  pKiaed,  when  a  larve  company  were  invited  to  a  liouse  of  very 
imuj  dimensions,  in  the  montn  of  July.  He  had  attired  himself  in 
a  new  suit,  and  the  visitors  were  so  jammed  togetJier,  that  some  of 
the  effects  of  the  black-hole  of  Calcutta  were  exemplified  in  the 
*'  perspiring  heroes."  "  When  I  got  home,"  said  Bernard,  '*  after  six 
faours'  crowding,  I  discovered  that  the  '  dye  was  cast'  all  over  my 
peraon." —  **  Av,"  replied  his  friend  Bamaby,  "  you  found  yourself 
par<j-coloured. ' 

KARLY  DINNER. 

Tokely.  the  comic  actor,  although  a  young  man,  died  a  victim  to 
Intemperance.  He  drank  to  much  ardent  spirits,  that  the  other  per- 
fiviDrra  were  compelled  to  complain  to  .Mr.  Fawcett,  the  manager, 
thst  Tokely  at  the  rehearsals  was  not  bearable ;  he  was,  in  fact, 
iDoat  offensive.  Fawcett,  with  a  kind  feeling,  and  with  real  admira- 
tion of  the  young  actor's  talents  (which  were  original  and  effective), 
oodcTtook  to  give  him  a  lecture.  He  pointed  out  to  him  the  folly  of 
liii  conduct ;  that  it  would  destroy  him  in  his  profession ;  and  expa- 
tiated »o  elo<]uently  and  in  so  parental  a  manner  on  the  subject,  that 
both  parties  shed  tears.  Fawcett,  perceiving  that  he  hail  produced 
aa  meet,  and  thinking  that  he  had  almost  gone  too  far,  told  Tokely 
that "  he  did  not  object  to  a  little  stimulus  or  exhilaration  ajirr  din- 
ner :  but  that  Tokely  must  sjtcredly  promise  him  that  he  would  not 
fat  the  future  drink  anything  prior  to  that  meal.  They  narted. 
Fawcett.  convinced  that  Tokely  would  become  a  rcfornied  man. 
Two  days  afterwards  a  rehearsal  of  a  farce  was  called  at  eleven 
o'dodt  in  the  forenoon  ;  in  this  farce  Tokely  was  to  sustain  a  pro- 
ndncnt  character ;  but,  alas  !  the  performers  in  a  budv  cnnie  and 
reiterated  their  complaints  of  him.  Fawcett  b«ckoneiI  the  unfbrtu- 
DBle  Tokely  aside,  severely  remonstrated  with  him,  and  reminded 
liiin  of  his  vow,  '*  that  he  would  not  touch  anything  drinkable  until 

VOL,  Till.  " 


sm 


GUir   FAWKES. 


gra 


**  Who  poes  there?"  shouted  Guy  Fawkes,  as  the  hor 
flpproachea  him. 

"  It  is  the  voice  of  Guy  Fawkes,*^  cried  the  fort-roi'^ 
tones  proclaimed  that  it  was  Catcsby.     "They  are 
cried,  reining  in  his  steed. 

**  Where  is  Viviana  f "  vociferated  hia  companion, 
other  than  Humphrey  Chetham. 

"  Here — here,**  replied  Guy  Fawkes. 

With  the  quickness  of  thought,  the  young  tnc 
her  side,  and  in  another  moment  she  was  plac' 
before  him,  and  borne  at  a  headlong  pace  . 
bridge. 

"  Follow  me,"  cried  Catesby.     •*  I  wiU  cl-- 
you.     Once  across  the  drawbridge,  you  tav 
yards  down  the  avenue,  on  the  right,  you  » 
horses  lied  to  a  tree.     Quick  !  quick  !  " 

As  he  spoke,  a  »hot  whizzed  past  his  tu 
din  in  the  rear  told  that  their  pursuers 
Striking  spurs  into  his  steed,  Catesby  d.. 
ing  blows  right  and  loft,  cleared  the  tini' 
many  of  whom  leaped  into  the  moat 
companions  were  dose  at  his  heels,  v 
safety. 

»  Fly  !_fly  I  ^  cried  Catesby,— 
I  will  check  all  pursuit." 

So  saying,  and  while  the  other 
faced  his  opponents,  and  makiiu'  "" 

ilrovc  them  backwards.     In  I' 
were  fired,  and  blows  aimed  nt 
injury,  but  succeeded  in  dtfei; 
enable  his  friends  to  mount. 


rlderly] 
ir,  I  " 

ive  her  ■ 
vrly  uid,^ 


I  :ivc,  aflcr  Wat 
..  c  hoird  of  lart 
t  vou  an  the  crea* 


:£9of  Argyle  and  X«ein* 
.Tiing  it  ihe  appearance 
^1  of  Kerry  remarked 
Sehold  the  two  viccf  of 


He  then  rode  off  at  full 
for  him  at  the  end  of  ihc 
on  the  same  steed  as  hi:> 
wards  of  a  mile,  Humph  < 
his  horse  to  Viviana,  li 

**  And  now,  to  Lon 
on  the  right,  and  ur^:: 

"  Ay,  to  London  !- 
following  him  with  t! 


t^utntion  in  the  Lnnda 
.iisieur  Jacques,"  was  i 
<  aver,  Mr.  Calcraft.  the 
;  might  be  produced  by 
rn  from  Cork  ;  andCiil- 
■  ,lirst  time  in  Dublin.  It 
arrive  to  play  Richard 
iudec  announced  between 
Burnett  had  to  walk  on  in 
Ti-q«es)  at  a  quarter  p-ist 
itimerous,  remained  tn  a 
Mck  "  for  tlieir  money  ;  but, 
iut  Alonsieur  Jncquet  was 
(xliibition  which  had  l»rcn 
4R  ;  mfireover,  they  confused 
,  which  ]>oor  JVlazurier  was  so 

^!  was  delivering  it  with  alt 

"!  a  man  in  the  gallery  ex- 

Startlcd  at  this^  he  pri>- 

,  tjiiiiw  called  out,  *'  Where** 


.  poih  on  as  rapidly  as 


PITBR  POPKIN. 


235 


~  tit'Ti*  jtlanstcur  Jacques  salutes  the 
'1  up,  and  cried  out^  "Ah,  the 
I'^fl'unuaiice. 

(ORD  OXFORD. 

Mtnic,  tliere  hang  a  fine  picture  of 

"  ith  the  roll  of  the  bill  in  hi«  hand 

■    iHiver,  which  was  aiippo!>cd  to  have 

11^  vote.      In  allusion  to    llarley's 

—  er.  Prior  wrote  with  a  pencil  on  the 

hJ.tly  17J5.- 

iiiriifltcr,  became  hypochondriacal  in  the 

it-tive  mind,  not  having  any  pabulum  to 

1    iti  itself.     He  became  deaf,  or  at  least 

1  some  one  asked  him  whether  he  had 

be  deaf  when  he  was  in  office,  "Faith,' 

M  afraid  of  my  headj  that  I  did  not  attend 


MONBIEUn    DB   VIVONNK. 

line,  who  was  commander  of  the  French  expedi- 

1.  writing  from  that  place  to  the  King,  closed  his 

ir<N,  "  May  it  please  your  ^Majesty,  to  finish  the 

Mit  ten  thousand  men."     lie  gave  hi«  letter  to  seal 

.  '.umissioncr  of  the  army,  who  was  bold  enough  to 

j<ncral."  

COLLSy  CISBER. 

»i»i»r  was  extremely  haughty  as  a  theatrical  manager,  and 

1  to  dramatists.     When  he  had   rejected  a  plav,  if  the 

r.  t  l1  him  to  point  nut  the  particular  parti;  of  it  which  dlH- 

uint,  he   took   a  pinch  oi'  snufT,  and  answered  in  general 

•  Sir,  there  ia  nothing  in  it  to  coerce  tny  poisionjt." 


ADRENT  BniDEGBoOM. 

in  1787  John  Philip  Kemble  married  the  widow  of  Brereton^ 
ihe  was  formerly  Alis^  P.  Hopkins),  Mr,  and  Mrs.  Bannister  under- 

r*k  to  give  them  a  wedding-dinner.  By  some  accidental  alteration 
bl  ibc  pUy-bill^,  Kemble  was  announced  to  perform  at  Drury  Lane 
theatre  on  timt  evening.  He  therefore  quitted  his  bride,  and  a 
very  agreeable  p.irty  at  Bannister'n  hou.«ie,  to  toil  through  6vc  acts 
of  Uamlet.  Aiter  which,  totally  forgetting  that  he  had  been  marri- 
ed In  the  morning,  and  adhering  to  old  and  constant  habit,  he  walk- 
ed from  the  theatre  to  bin  own  house,  and  seated  himself  in  his  easy 
chair,  with  his  lamp  and  hi*  b(K>k,  in  his  librarv*  The  bride  and 
f*ny  waited,  in  due  ex)>ectance  of  the  arrival  of  tKe  tragedian  ;  but 
in  vain.  Boiuiister  was  compelled  to  convey  the  lady  to  her  huB- 
tMiul.  who,  (at  Bannifter  informed  the  writer,)  was  rather  astonished 
H  the  bitruftion  of  visitors  at  that  time  of  night. 

"tub   light    LANTASTIC    TOR." 

Robert  JobHng  was  dancing  at  an  evening  party ;  Jobling  was  al- 
BUMt  as  fat  as  PalstaF.     A  lady  remarked^  that  for  so  corpulent  a 

R  i 


S3G  THE    PORTFOLIO   OP  MR.    PETEH    POrKIK. 

'i 

person  "his  dancing  was  extremely  lisht"  "Light,  nudun,'  Mid 
Barnaby ;  "  how  can  you  be  surprised  at  that,  considering  bis  taper 
iegsl"  J 

B.  8.  V.  P.  ■ 

An  old-fashioned  couple,  in  IB06,  received  a  card  of  invitation  to^ 
dinner  froin  somi^  much  g*yc  folks  than  themselves-  At  t!je  bot- 
tom of  the  card  was  the  then  new  R  S.  V.  P.  This  puxsled  the 
-worthv  pair.  It  might  puxzle  as  in  these  days,  although  most  of  us 
are  a  little  better  acquainted  with  the  French, — "  Retpondez  s'il  rout 
plitit."  The  old  gentleman  took  a  nap  upon  it,  from  which  he  was 
awaked  by  his  helpmate,  who  said,  after  shaking  him  up,  "  Aly  love, 
I  have  found  it  out-  R.S.  V.P.  It  means  —  remember  *ijt:  verif  , 
punciuaL"  ^^^1 

Dear  old  Tommy !  All  who  have  had  the  pleasure  Xo  be  acquainted 
with  Mr.  WTiitbread,  or  flouthill,  during  a  number  of  years,  must 
have  known  that  fine  old  fellow,  Tommy  Atktn.  We  can  tell  a  few 
tales  of  him.  Alas,  he  is  dead  and  gone!  With  all  his  fooleries,  his 
whimp,  his  extravagances,  ihere  was  a  jovial  kind  heart  about  him, 
that  endeared  him  to  most  of  tlie  persons  to  whom  he  was  introduced 
lli»  first  connection  with  Snmuel  Whitbread  was  at  collie.  Tommyj 
Atkin,  being  an  extremely  entertaining  companion,  was  afterwurd^ 
invited  by  hix  friend,  Samuel,  to  pass  a  we«>k  at  his  scat  in  Bedlbrtt* 
shire.  Tom  accepted  the  invitation  gratefully,  and,  lo  profe  hii  gra-^ 
iiludr,  he  remained  a  guest  of  that  opulent,  distinguished,  and  worth/ 
family,  for  TDiitTY  tbher  TSABa !  Store  of  this  eccentric  old  boy, 
anon.  

HOOI>-WINKSD. 

On  the  facetious  Thomas  Hood  coming  to  town  one  day,  he  called 
on  an  equally  facetious  friend,  wcU  known  in  the  literary  world, 
with  llie  intention  of  dining  with  him.  The  friend,  however,  hap- 
pened to  have  an  engagement ;  but,  as  he  had  reasons  for  not  treat- 
ing Hood  with  any  want  of  hospitality,  and  knowing  that  he  must 
return  to  Enfield  early,  be  asked  Hood  to  accompany  him  to  a  ve- 
terinary surgeon's,  where  he  was  compelled  to  go  on  bukiness.  The 
friend,  knowing  Hood's  state  of  stomach,  took  him  io  see  a  finrse'x 
toil  cut  off!  an  operation  which  positively  induced  Hood  to  decline 
any  idea  of  eating  a  dinner. 


« 


ELEGANT   COHPLTUENT. 

When  Rousseau  was  banished  from  Geneva,  he  landed  at  Dm*er,] 
Jatmary  1 1th.  17fi*>.  nnd  visited  Drury  T>ane  theatre  on  the  23rd,  to 
witness  the  performance  ol  Zara  and  Lethe,  by  connnand  o^  their 
Alajesties.  Upon  this  occasion  Garrick  played  Lusign.in  and  Lord 
Chalkstonc.  Kousseau  wa«  much  gratified,  and  complimented  hira 
by  saying,  "  Sir,  you  have  made  rae  cry  at  your  tragedy,  and  laugh  at 
your  comedy,  though  I  scarce  understood  a  word  of  your  language." 

DR.  JOHKS'S   8B08    TAX. 

This  tax  was  pro|K)sed   in  January  IjS?-     Mr.  Rose  had  n  very  I 
favuurnble  opinion  of  it,  and  it  was  calculated  that  it  would  bring  an 
addition  to  the  revenue  of  about  four  hundred  thousand  pounds  per 


LOVES   SECOND   SIGHT. 


237 


annum.  Of  this  t:ix  Major  Topham  remarked,  that  "  Dr.  Jones  and 
Ills  ^hoc-tax  l»ad  already  F>een  productive  of  luaiiy  a  pinching  appre- 
hension ;  and  for  any  club,  in  town  or  country,  wc  give  it  as  a  toast 
toourfeiluw-suflererg>  "  May  Dr.  Jones's  shoe  be  on  Mr.  Fill's /ajf  7  " 


A    BEN9fBL£    LITTLB    BOT. 

A  friend  of  Mr.  Cartwright,  the  celebrated  dentist,  took  his  son 
to  have  his  month  inspected  by  that  able  artist,  who,  with  wonder- 
ful celerity,  removed  seven  of  the  boy's  first  teeth.  Upon  the  boy 
crj'ing  out  with  surprise,  and  a  little  pain,  Cartwright  aaid^  "Sever 
mtud,  Johnny,  your  teeth  will  come  again." 

Johnny,  with  tears  in  his  eyca,  inquired, "  Will  ihcy  come  again 
he/ore  dinner,  Mr.  Cartwright?  " 

TUB    EARL  OF  CnBaTERFIELD. 

In  the  winter  1776,  in  one  of  the  public  rooms  at  Bath>  the  young 
Lord  Chesterfield  accidentally  dropped  his  snuff-box.  A  gentleman, 
who  was  standing  near  snatched  it  instantly  from  the  floor,  and  po- 
litely returned  it  to  the  noble  owner.  His  lordahip,  with  great  in- 
difference, turned  away  his  head^  and  pocketed  his  box,  without 
^■eeming  to  notice  the  favour,   which    conduct  extorted  from   the 

der  the  following  severe  but  pertinent  exclamation:  —  "I  am 
poiitive,"  said  he,  "i/iat  gentlanatt  never  read  Lord  Chesterfield's 
letter*." 


LOVE'S  SECOND  SIGHT. 

I  LOVED  thcc  loDg  before  me  met, 

My  dreams  had  traced  thy  form  so  well ; 
I  heard  thy  nsnte,  nor  could  forget 

The  leader  music  uf  iis  spell. 

Aod  when  at  last  I  saw  ihose  eyes, 

They  Mooi'd  no  wimd'nng  5fes  unknown, 
But  stais.  ib^t  from  my  native  skies 

Tlieir  beams  o'er  all  uiy  hfc  had  dut>wa. 

Whrn  thou  wert  mine,  I  a'lV'd  my  heart 

What  meant  its  strange  forfhoding  fear, 
Thftt  whis|>er'd  we  were  dooro'd  to  part, 

Even  nticQ  most  happy  and  must  dear ! 

Although  the  bloom  was  on  thy  check, 

To  me  It  wore  a  hue  of  gloom ; 
The  toiiev  thai  would  thy  fondness  speak 

Sijh'd  like  the  wmd  around  a  tomb. 

Too  much  my  trembling  heart  has  knotvu 

Timl  fjuts  a  shade  on  coming  years ; 
The  prcMDt  never  was  my  own, — 

And,  oh  t  how  sad  tl>e  past  appears ! 

Alas  1  iHb  fatal  pft  was  vain 

That  taught  Itow  frail  my  hopes  must  bo — 
Time  roiiud  HU!,  after  years  of  pain. 

All  unprepared  for  losing  thcc  ! 

Lot: ISA  SriARt  Cosixllo. 


S34 


Till 


ttfier  dinner. " 
jmxl   I'lvvrn. 
Mr.  Fawn-u. 


On  Jillll: 

footpad --   'i 
thought  it 
biiif^  him 

John  r 
iemalf,  \> 
your  j);;!' 
look  of  ■ 
"  No,  in  I 


Gan' 
eninj^  . 
and  t>i 
of  inu- 


At 
stcr  - 
of  Ji 

to  t: 

thl'i- 


tlu' 

n  \ 

ni.- 
th 

cr.  ■ 

w. 
th. 
tl- 
tv 
Hi- 
ll! 

N" 

it 
a-' 


t'i 
V- 


.f  Irish  people. 
■    ■irdiu^   I"   tht' 
■    turned  anothtr 
.uii  htre  i'o  di'iiri> 
-    ?e')jik*_ /(I //(■//,  that 
r  u'lr.u-x'^     That  wo 
..itun;  have  such  littiu 
;  laruij'h  our  steanuT^  r 
.  i'clit'vc  trei\ufnt\y  prove 
.  I.'   y.\i.\  to  mind  how  f.  .■■  < 
y^MA  has  bct-n  to  u;-,  and 
■  iKtd  manners  to  you, 
..ir-.^  '   IS  we  are  hi  such 
...  i.\:  -Mj'py  do  I  feel  in 
■•.■.K".-.*>  :.N.it   1   can   most 
!-•  v.T*.v  them  tlnit  Ire- 
■   jTition,  too ;  and  that 
*  .-;  half  so  full  of  invcn- 
■  \tok  as  cross  at   luv  as 

.:  >h  and  Irish  inventions 

_   -h  inventions  are  niere- 

■    i:nuMn>;!y  hyperbolie:d  ; 

■  .  vet  dihclnsinj;;  in  oihera 

■V  itistriirliiiti, 
■'.■,!',  look  at  the  spinniuL'- 

-  such  sameness?  Xo  va- 
..  Now  «■<■  ciuild  not  bear 
■■.iiiis  all  tvirninij  tlie  saiiie 
lint,  if  one  eoiild  be  ni.iile 
'.//   mi^ht   do  ;  or  if  thty 

»  all  toirethcr,  .ind  let  some 
be  brtler  >till.     "  JJy  the 
4'  enotii^h  tlu-n  !  " 

i  and  railway.--,"  we  have 
,mKts  and  pi_;^-drivers.  and 

■..l^d^lnp■ 

■.'le  way  ovtT  to  Livirpnul. 

bi^  shtanur  ;   for  some  av 

-  burnt  :i\T.  by  ra>oM  they 
■■.i-!iy,  which,  llioujili  p.iiiit- 
;J-h'ot  all  the  time.  Well, 
.•ft  of  lii>  twint\  piir*.  ;tnd 

.  vj  them  in  to  ^IA^^^^>^- 
.'  taking  a  ^niail  ^la»  ol" 
Wiitei-   he  had  on  the  .v.i//. 

__P ;  "  f-]/.  Terry. 


IRISH    INVENTIOX. 


SS9 


I 

I 


"  *  lla\fw&ys  to  Manshe&sther  be  this,'  siz  a  big,  red-nosed  fel- 
low, with  his  two  hands  stuck  in  his  two  breeches-pockets. 

"  •  Will  I  catch  thim  ? '  sq^s  Terry. 

''  *  To  be  Burc  you  will,  if  you  run  quick  enough/  uz  the  man 
wid  the  big  no«e,  mz  he. 

"80  aff  Terry  surted  at  the  top  of  his  speed,  and  hadn't  run  five 
miles  before  he  found  all  his  pigs  on  the  thrain,  or  the  rails,  or  what- 
ever they  cull  them,  cut  into  little  bits,  and  tlie  heads  av  thim 
ihmashrd  so  he  couldn't  tell  one  from  anotlier ;  and  divil  o'  bit  o' 
latMfaction  ever  he  got  from  the  '  boord  of  the  commct'bee  of  di- 
rrcthurs,'  only  they  tould  him  that  sometimes,  when  the  craturs  are 
unruly,  the  wheels  of  the  pig-boxes  do  come^aff,  and  that  whenever 
sich  a  thing  happened,  their  rules  made  them  cut  the  pigs  into  toor- 
tcdgcj." 

After  this  plain,  if  not  affecting  recital,  well  might  the  pig-driver 
exclaim,  "  UTiat  soort  of  inventions  are  these,  I  wonder,  that  'ud 
bum  the  hair,  and  tails,  and  'shnouts  '  aff  of  a  pour  man's  pigs',  and 
then  have  them  cut  into  bits  and  soorsctlgei  ?  "  Also,  "  what  kind 
of  justice  from  the  *  Boord  of  the  commet'hee  of  Directhurs'  ? " 

And,  we  might  add,  what  would  our  poor  pco{>lu  be  without  their 
wit,  their  humour,  and  invention?  Nothing!  absolutely  nothing 
bat  A  half-starved,  ignorant,  and  shivering  race,  in  rags  and  tattersi 
ponewing,  in  fact,  nothing  in  their  compositions  to  form  a  study, 
create  on  interest,  or  rai^e  a  smile. 

Ilut,  set  their  wits  at  work — tlieir  native,  racy,  unfathomable  wita, 
— attend  to  the  peculiar  shrug  of  the  shoulders,  the  deep  twinkle  of 
the  eye,  as  Paddy  draws  "  at  sight  "  upon  the  overflowing  stores  of 
bis  invention  ;  and  first  most  solemnly  declaring  that  '•  he  would 
scorn  to  tell  his  honour  a  lie,"  or  "  that  the  devil  a  word  of  lie  waft 
in  it,"  he  will  give  you  at  a  moment's  warning  a  string  of  pure  in- 
ventions niA  to  be  rivalled  or  surpa^ed  by  all  the  romancers  in  the 
world. 

The  most  common  occurrence  upon  which  poor  Paddy  is  quea- 
tioned  will  be  ingcniniiitly  turne<l,  or  coaxed,,  or  twisted  into  nume* 
rous  different  versions,  just  a^  he  thinks  he  can  most  succcjisfully 
gratify  the  person  he  is  addressing,  most  efficiently  serve  his  own 
purposes,  or  tickle  and  amuse  any  bystnrult-r.  Should,  however,  his 
ready  eye  detect  cither  »utipicion  or  displeasure,  straightway,  and 
without  the  slightest  embarrassment,  he  will  recorapose  his  narra- 
tive, and  will  just  as  readily  swallow  all  be  had  previously  said,  as  a 
wcll<cooked  pouto. 

Of  course  moot  people,  and  you  in  particular,  who  are  expecting 
nothing  else,  see  through  this  flimsy  kind  of  scheming  at  once  ;  but 
the  ctiriosity  of  the  case  lies  in  this — tliot  Paddy  himself  is  equally 
aware  of  probable  detection  ;  and  yet,  from  some  unaccountable  de- 
■Irc  to  bother,  flatter,  or  humbug  you, — cannot  for  the  soul  of  him 
desift. 

However  you  tnay  regret  the  want  of  truth  and  principle,  su^ 
•ccnca  as  these  are  frequently  amusing ;  Pad<ly  forces  you  tu  laugh 
U  some  ridiculous  tale  or  conceit,  which  has  little  or  no  foundation, 
•ndall  the  while  is  but  too  frequently  endeavouring  Ui  divert  your 
•ttaniioQ  from  some  deeper-laiu  scheme  of  rogucrv,  such  as  I  have 
bcfor*  endeavoured  to  represent  tn  the  history  of  Watty  Kbherty. 

To  a  certain  extent  1  had  a  kind  or  a  *'toon"  of  a  Walty  Vbu 


How  to 
living  so  ' 
map)  stHM- 
way)  can 
love  to  c. 
we  are  i 
«'  don't  /. 
siiecks  <■■' 
These  n. 
so  to  til- 
kind  ail 
what  {>. 
Larry, 
mattei  ■ 
haviii!.- 
agrci'ii 
land  ' 
sinci- 
tion  ' 
thev 

T! 
coil!-' 
lyj. 
and 
a  V 

'i 
jeu 
rii' 
Mr 

Wil- 

to 

Wli 

P" 
h.- 

d<- 

vtn 
tl. 
'u- 

Ci: 

an 
1- 

SI 


_-^'*J  quite  Ml 
"^'--  C«'*"i  "*"... 

_■  .:.id  a  tri  li  ii' 

in  (Ii'fvni!::  :j 

^.■■wfver,  I  I'liiii  I 

..Ml  iiu  invftt.'r:i:e 

.Ihrop" — thiiuirh 

•V  ahjnri'd  it,  «it!i 

—  I   was   obliu'i'd   to 

•  -.ther  aniu-i:i^.  and 

As  t'ur  ii:-*..i:.c»\ 

.  .y,  clo>e  :  ■  :.":-.•  (in*, 

.■    '.il  bi-u^T'ir-:::  i::.  out-  ■  :' 

.-.'.itry,  H'.  i"  ^  .:  i-*  h..r  . 

.:rt- :  who  tU- 1'.  in  \\v^  ? 

i.'iind  pnlatable,  in  -i  ,-. 

-.vhor  (.■lasf.c!:,  I'rom  \\\.  :.. 

vtractfd,  or  ^arnu*nta  .;:  ■: 

,-.:  Jinncrs  and  bed^  a'iiiii.'>t 

consnmniate  art,  the  ih-i- 

>haum'fn  Jiaiin  ;"  and.  it' 

■;•  present  day  wtre  a>ki'd 

t  miilt)tud]non»  a!»sfniblaj;^e 

-.-per  place.  —  probably  the 

-*  C^i  the  ]>ahn  of  inventiim  to 

:o  the  kitchen  for  his  ^un^ 

.>et ;  but  hearing  from  Tom 

,    .:  hand,  he  had  just  time  to 

.   >cene  connneneed,  and  for- 

H.iun  through  the  division  of 

■-  L'ouhl  not  see  hiin. — a  cir- 

.  voeket,  while  it  has  added  to 

.ri'fore.  was  on  Toni  J)illon  ; 

..:  an  npportiniily  fcr  the  diji- 

:  :e  young  niastlier." 

t'  ve.  Tom  Dillon  !  " 

.  in,  man,  I  'ni  all  alone.     Sit 

,:.twn.  and  warmed  liiniself. 
.;ieen  had  >nu-lt  the  tobaeeo.) 
:n,ir — no  il  i>,  and  the  m./t/ 
:■/':'  (After  a  Jidjit-t.)  -They 
.irini/i  thi>  year.  Oh,  bUir- 
.jiy  tihhaehy,  'i'om  .^    .Myself 


'.n  my  pipe. 
:-!V  li>ht. 


.'.•ill  cut  lip  the  t(>l)aeco  with 

,^.   Slianiit-nt  (jiiietly  p>it  all 

.  ■.'.CD-  haitdini;  hiui  hi-*  pipe, 


iRlSH  INTENTION. 


341 


tnd,  **  Here,  Tom,  now,  here  'i  this  pipe,  and  fill  it  jo,  as  the  tib- 
bicby  it  90  nlinty  wid  you." 

So  Tom  uid  ;  nnd  having  lit  it  as  usual,  handed  it  to  Shauneeo^ 
who  puifed  Away. 

Now,  then,  commenced  the  lug  of  war  ;  curiosity,  food  for  goasip, 
on  the  side  of  the  beggar ;  glorious  humbug,  lying,  and  invention^ 
(Ht  the  other. 

8nAia>fKBN  (looking  up  at  the  ceiling,  and  down  at  the  fire), — 
Yarnih,  Tom  Dillon,  this  is  a  warm,  snug  house;  but  whisper, 
ii.n't  Mr.  M'Teaguc  a  quare  soort  o'  man  to  have  suich  a  small 
little  hi)u»«  and  place  Here,  an'  he  going  in  his  carr'ge,  and  his  son 
and  biiuselfshtuck  up  ag'in  one  another  in  it  rpcdiri,  an'  he  keepin' 
another  horiie  along  with  that  ag'in,  and  dinin'  with  the  quality  in- 
titely,  *o  they  are.      Does  he  keep  any  other  servant  here  with 

JCfillf? 

TuM  Dillon. — Whisha  I  God  help  your  ould  bead,  now,  Shan- 
necn,  for  what  you  said.  Small  place,  indeed  \  Yarrah  !  that  man 
has  twinty  places !  This,  wher'  y*  are  now,  is  only  by  way  ot'  a 
•hootiii'-box.  He  has  this  juist  whin  it  plases  him  to  come  and 
knock  down  a  palterittge^  or  coax  the  ihrout  out  of  the  loch  beyant. 

SoAtrKKKN. — The  ^rd  save  us  I  Is  it  twinty  places,  Tom,  in 
aimeat,  and  servants  in  all  o  thira? 

ToK. — Divil  a  lie  in  tt,  and  myself  believes  it  is  twinty-three  he 
has  in  all,  only  he  only  tuk  me  ioJtJ}een.  There's  servants  in  all 
o'  thtm,  mostly  on  boord-wages,  and  he  keeps  me  here  on  boord 
vagn  ;  an*  a  httle  wecshy  woman  tidying  the  bed-chambers  above. 
You  know  her  very  well,  Shaun,  by  ra^on  &he's  a  bit  of  a  nun.  She 
rook*  his  Ihrout  illegant,  an'  his  game  ;  an'  lias  the  fresh  eggs  and 
butter,  and  hot  rowls,  and  griddle  cakes,  an'  a  furrin  thing  tossed 
up  in  the  fryin'-pan,  made  of  the  yolks  of  maybe  siventy  eggs  at 
a  time  —  and  they  call  this  an  abninack,  —  for  himself  and  the 
Tovuig  Kissther ;  an'  a  couple  of  fine  horses  I  've  to  mind,  an'  a 
■ttie  irork  in  the  gardin,  and  ri<le  up  and  down  the  counthry  tin 
mileii  round  with  arrants  and  letthers,  and  big  an'  little  parshils. 
Sore,  when  he  'a  here,  man  olive,  he  has  more  letthers,  and  notes, 
and  miMagca,  than  Dan  O'Cotmell  would  in  the  "  sason  of  parli. 
Mint'*— ao  he  has. 

ChuoxBRN. — Glory  be  to  God !  he  must  be  a  great  man  intirely  ; 
bot,  hoald  !  what  diz  he  give  ^(/,  Tom  ? 

Tom. — Yeh  I  then  not  so  much,  indeed,  by  rason  I  *m  young  yit. 
Only  eight- on '-six  pence  a- week  myself  gets,  and  seven  shilUuga  the 
cook.  But,  then,  you  nee,  Shauneen,  when  himsilf  's  at  home, 
there's  wine,  and  cider,  and  Guinness'  porter  running  about  the 
hooac  in  all  derichtiotm,  an'  he  always  brings  a  row!  »f  tibbachy  for 
tho  neighbours ;  but  he  won't  let  a  dhrop  of  whiskey  inside  the 
dare. 

SmxvH. — Ow  !  by  the  lawi  that 's  illegant,  bof>rd  wages  and  all  I 
Oil!  he  mutt  l>e  a  grand  man,  and  a  raol  gintleman.  I  wisht  he 
wa«  to  the  fore  this  minuet. 

Tom. —  Bcgor  !  if  he  was  he  'd  give  j-ou  a  shilUn',  an'  yer  dinner, 
an' a  glaaa  of  porter  to  settle  the /if'jrAa/f'rx,  on' then  he'd  give  vou  a 
bran  new  pipe,  and  a  grtsat  bit  of  tibbachy,  and  a  good  bed  to  lie  on 
•t  anyhow. 

8savNiKi«,^Yamb  \  nov»  Tom ;  where  is  he  this  way  f 


240 


hcrty  myself  in 
much,  but  he  <l 
that  way.      II, 
pnsflably  honcsi 
iiis  readiness  ' 
mine.   His  nai. 
Tiirely  depend 
smoker;  and, 
happy  am  1 1. 
more  than  tv 
"dhrop"  him. 
his  lies  were  • 

Sitting  in 
smoking  aw;i . 
those  mendir- 
exactly  to  sa 
tales,  jokes,  . 
dal;  wclconi- 
odd  shillin«r 
linen  (invar! 
everywhere 
ractcrof  a  • 
one  of  yoi. 
how  this  bt 
of  rags  on 
greatest  pi 
Shauneen 
and  was  si 
Dillon  th; 
sit  down  : 
Innately  : 
a  pair  of 
cumstani 
"ur  stoc 
nt)r  did  I 
play  of  I 
ftnter 

TOM.- 

<lown.  III 
Shau:; 
(Tom  h: 
"i^/ush, 
htuifx  ac" 
Idl  nie  • 
aii'-'nur' 
gev  thi- 

•'  I  h. 

"Wii. 

Tosi. 

Tom. 

So  S|. 
his  knif. 
Toui  hii 


•■'     He's  at 

"■t.  and  all  the 

■  run.  and  one 

■in  in  the  Cur- 

--■■-ys  an"  a  head- 

-■ri  forty  guint-a- 

:  let  man  or  boy 

::y=elf  has  a  frii/t'- 

1.-^  the  County  Clare 

:i:ncd  to  put  it  an. 

i::d  what  soort  i?  the 

■  M,  as  his  great    object 

a  ^raml  young  gin-til- 
and  fishin',  and  sUo.::  .r, 


-  M-ay.-,  gettin"  reddy  ftir  thi- 

■  -  lie  s  niorc  knoweuer  than 

\  fly  like  .shot  outof  a_i»un. 

.ri>ugh  fire  and  wather  ioi 

-  >  u-uns,;  but  he  didnt  tun: 

7.  xUlhi'  upon  a  liinvh.  but 

I  was  young  ag'in.     Here  -; 

■    mdes  to  a  gintk-nian  tii^^t  ".- 

■e  I'll  get  a  sliillin".  :...._ 

_ht  be  considered  in  t;..-  iim 

:.k  hi*  glory  nas  dinu-.ud  bv 

.  :;i  Cnrtiii,   wh„   iivt-a  wiiU  ]. 

Mr.(Jood.     Still  ihei-i'  w;i>  tin, 

.^ly  scrvani's  wits  were  diiiu-L 
v-.tntrary,  were  j-emenii,.ii>  ai.d 

■.'»>t  ni.-i.tcrs  living,  take--  :;re;U 

-   v-groinul  round  his  l,l;,„^i,.ll;i• 

•Mtion.v  with  walks  round  tik-i:i. 

<ocured  and  ^taeked.   niv  frl.  |.<I 

;  ■.-!  achnitted  to    he.  nrtleiTil  iJii. 

.:-.d  <onn  his  grouiul  ua-  nA.m! 

■  heaps,  Avhi.-h  Tim  had   <.r,!,-r^ 

.'me  h.r  a  Cmv  \u-eks.  whut  «.i. 

■  find  each   he.ip   in   it-  (ir-.t  |.,.>i- 

..tod  wliat  wa.-,  to  follow,   k-aiiin^ 

<  ytm  Wvn  about  all  tlii,  lii.u-- 
Didn't  I  tell  you  to  :^|•r^■ad  t;.;"- 

Mt.uK!   lijive  doiio  ^vvr.X  -.>..d't. 

■.livl!  you  lijive  K-li   tlH.,^.  [.^  ,p. 

,•  ,:;r.i>.s  under  llifui  ? 

L.iic  my  lu-M,   .uid  forked  h  .r,! 


IRISH    INVENTION. 


243 


'  «Uy,  and  couldn't  do  more,  (pointing  to  two  large  heaps.) 
Iyer  honor  we  iheni  two  hapes  yjuider? 
r.  (>oop. — To  be  sure  1  do ;  and  what  of  that  ? 
Tin. — Well,  sir, — Uiem  two   hapes,  —  aa  sure  as  I  'm  standing 
^•Jung  now  to  yer  honor —    (A  |>ause.) 
Mil  Good. — Come,  now,  no  nonsense. 

Tim. — Whisht,  sir,  for  God's  sake  !     Them  two  hapes— (myiiteri- 
sly)— -Uiein  two  very  hapes,  yer  honor,  1  spread  out  with  my  own 
vel  here  tliis  blessed  momia' ;  and,  hotcever,  {Aty  come  iogether 
fimf 

IFarinp,  aa  it  were,  the  spwie  in  our  hands,  the  following  scene  in 
a  putato  field,  not  far  from  my  house,  may  be  here  related  as  nearly 
at  poanble  as  it  took  plnce. 

FotMO  digging  (aa  now  and  then  rather  pompously  set  forth  in 
•vr  ncwapppers)  is  sometimes  said  to  be  performed  gratuitously,  in 
lekcn  of  admiration  of  some  great  little  man'tj  character,  many  points 
of  which  very  character  the  people,  said  to  be  thus  adoring  it,  but 
too  fre()aently  in  their  hearts  despise. 

Tbc  numbers  thus  engaged  arc,  of  course,  proportioned  to  the 
esUnt  of  the  ground  to  be  dug.  For  instance,  lor  the  work  of  dig- 
;  as  Irish  acre  of  potatoes  (more  than  one-third  larger  than  an 
^iah  acre,  forty  Irish  acres  making  sixty-five  £nglish),-^for  this 
,  Co  dig,  gatlicr  up,  and  pit  the  crop  (in  one  day),  as  many  as 
___/  inea  aud  ten  women  and  children  will  often  be  collected. 
f^twH*  people,  however,  whether  they  really  love  the  person  for 
vhoon  Uiey  arv  employetl  or  nut  (a  very  hard  tpiestion),  will  expect 
•itiiar  their  regular  wages  ( varying  front  ten  pence  to  fifteen  pence  per 
day*  eiclnsive  of  allowance),  or  a  plentiful  rej):i8t  of  meat,  drink,  and 
vcgetAlilc*  ;  and,  before  tee-totalisni  came  into  vogue,  each  tliroat 
was  ACtuaUr  aching  for  wliiftkey. 

On«  lorely  morning  lust  Octitber,  I  had  as  gay  and  merry  a  set  as 
could  well  be  collecteil  anywhere.  There  were  some  6nc  active 
young  men,  some  pretty  girU  too,  aiid  two  or  three  old  stagers 
whom  I  knew,  and  whoee  yarns  I  had  heard  before.  I  had  twenty 
»m  alto^ther,  quite  sulticicnt  for  my  small  piece  of  potato-ground, 
ooe  man  to  each  ridge ;  and  \\a  1  found  them  talking,  which  is  ever 
llw  ctae,  so  I  lef\  them  talking  and  laughing  too,  all  hands ;  and  yet, 
with  all  thU  laughing  and  tjdking,  I  could  not  but  admire  the  regu- 
larity and  dexterity  of  the  work.  One  man  on  the  right  leads  the 
rat ;  he  is  in  advance  a  little  ;  and  so  they  all  follow,  as  the  military 
mca  have  it,  in  ecftelhn,  forming  a  regularly  inclined  line^  which 
•cldoBi  varies.  There  I  found  them  digging  away,  and  turning  up 
tba  brauUftd  murph'u-s  (a  word,  by  the  fay,  unknown  here-  It  ap- 
peirv  to  roe  a*  if  they  meant  to  call  them  "  praties ;"  but  this  they 
ouinot  du,  as  they  slip  over  the  r,  and  pronounce  them  "  pt'shaties.") 
Saoii  man  was  plying  his  luiig-hinulled  ^nadc,  perfi'clly  erect  at  his 
Work^— not  stooping  down  to  it,  ns  the  Englisn  clodpoles  do, — and 
tb«  iprU  and  little  cTiildren  were  following,  some  picking  up,  others 
fiUii^  a  Urge  basket,  which  one  of  the  men  took  it  in  regular  turn 
with  th«  rest  to  carry  to  the  i>it. 

And  maybe  there  wasn't  the  "  ra'al  fVin  going  an."  It  does  one's 
very  heart  good  to  sec  these  poor  people  enjoying  themselves  toge- 
thrr,  leaving  all  their  cares  and  sorrows^  as  they  do  the  "  pt'shalies/' 
IUmb! 


244 


IRISH  INTENTIOlf. 


I  am  afraid  I  lost  somethinj^  Buperexcellent,  as  they  were  all  rojir? 
ing  out  at  a  sally  uf  wit ;  and  even  Paddy  Kinnoiin  niniselt*,  an  uld 
ieUow  who  evidently  laughs  with  difBcuky,  as  if  his  cheeks  wouidj^^ 
crack  in  the  operation,  — e%'en  Paddy's  gravity  wax  upset,-— he  wh^| 
laughing,  thuugh  seemingly  in  pain  by  doing  ao.     All  the  ot)ie^^< 
"  potato  traps  "  were  widely  enough  distended. 

There  was  Btlly  Carmody  leading  the  entire  operation^  an  oldith 
stager,  but  a  capital  hand  at  the  work,  and  a  still  better  one  at  a 
piece  of  invention  ;  next  to  him,  however,  was  a  real  sly  fellow, 
Jemmy  RooneVi  who  was  of^en  more  than  a  match  for  Billy  ;  aAer 
him  another  of  the  same  "  soort,"  Rody  Scanlan  ;  and  then  what  one 
may  call  a  hull,  Micky  Culligan,  who  was  a  little  deaf,  or  pretended 
to  be  so  (the  latter,  most  probably,  a»  these  men  reap  immense  atl. 
vantages  in  the  way  of  question  and  answer),  and  thus,  when  a  j 
thing  was  said,  the  joke  was,  "  Did  you  hear  Iftat,  Alicky  ?  " 

"  God  bless  ye,  boys ! "  I  said. 

*'  Welcome,  sir." 

"  What  sort  of  a  crrop  do  ye  call  this }  ** 

"O,  illegant,  yer  honor.  Great  pt'shaties  entirely.  We  nc\er 
seen  the  likes,  indeed,  yer  honor." 

•'  Oh,  it  'a  no  wonder,  with  the  manure  they  got ! "  said  one. 

"  Sure  was  not  the  ridges  full  av  it !  "  said  anotlier  ;  and  so  ] 
on  the  praises  of  my  crop  all  down  the  line,  like  a  feu  dejme. 

"  Well,  boys,  I  'm  glad  to  Bee  you  all  so  well  an^  hearty,  and  none 
of  you  drinking  whiskey." 

Ropy. — In  troth,  yer  honor,  it 's  a  good  thing  to  be  done  with  it^ 
■n'  we  're  all  the  better.  I  was  wanst  and  I  never  could  get  enough 
of  it,  and  now  1  'd  rather  take  the  ditch-wather. 

"  I  assure  yuu,  my  friends,  yuu  could  not  tell  me  anything  I  am 
prouder  to  hear ;  and  I  am  also  as  proud  to  add,  that  I  luve  followed 
your  example,  and  have  left  off  the  usual  tumbler  after  dinner,  and 
so,  it  is  my  firm  belief,  will  every  gentleman  in  this  neighbourhood. 
And  I  can  assure  you  1  never  felt  myself  better  in  my  life,  and 
therefore  now  l>elieve  that  whiskey  is  neither  conducive  to  health 
nor  strength,  and  certainly  not  either  to  peace  of  mind  or  body." 

OuNKS. — Oh,  long  life  to  yer  honor  ;  that 's  thrue  indeed! 

Billy  Cahmody. — An'  sure,  yer  honor,  we  'vc  the  te-baccA-v  left 
qbI 

"  Vou  have,  Billy,"  I  replied ;  "  and   J  don't  begrudge  it  ^ 
knowing  well,  though  not  myself  a  smoker,  what  comfort  the''olt 
pipe  gives  you  in  your  houses,  especially  when  you  come  in  wet  < 
tired ;  and  therefore,  though  I  should  only  insult  you  by  offeric 
whiskey  (not  a  drop  of  which  will  enter  my  house  again),  yet  I  hop«^ 
you  will  find  plenty  to  eat  and  drink,  and  plenty  of  tobacco,  and 
each  of  you  a  new  pipe,  when  the  work  ia  done." 

Omneb. — Oh,  then,  that  yer  honor  may  cncrasc,  and  that  we  mn 
dig  yer  honor's  pt'shaties  agin  and  agin  ! 

All  this  was  a  sort  of  "  overture."     Now  b^an  the  entertainmcnL 

Billy  Cabmouy. — Oh,  that  whiskey  war  tu'rrh(e  stuff,  yer  honor! 
Would  yer  honor  believe  what  it  did  one  day  to  myself,  and  two* 
three  more  av  us,  that  went  into  Dunny  Gorman's  liouse  there  ^ 

An'  if  we  did,  we  had  some  bish'ncss  to  settle  ;  and  we  called  for  1 

pint,  and  we  611od  out  a  glass,  an"  bcg,-m  settling  the  *'  hi&h'nes^,''< 
we  all  heard  a  crack  on  the  table,  an'  thiJi  the  gloss  ^^cipn,  and 


IRISH    INVENTION. 


345 


r,  we  lost  the  whiskey  !  "Oh,  ho,  ho  !  what's  this,  boyg?  " 
UM  myM>lf.  "  Biddv,"  >tz  I  to  the  landlady,  "  corae  till  you  see 
what  yer  whiskey  done  to  this  glass."  siz  I.  An'  she  lid-  up  the 
pieces,  and  siz  she,  "This  is  all  wid  the  *  denth  *  of  the  'stnnth' 
of  the  liquor,  boys,"  siz  she.  An'  so  she  went  to  her  closet,  and 
broQ^t  out  a  6ne  thtrong  thick  owld  glass,  an'  hiruU*  fillt  it  tor  us 
I  to  make  np  the  loss  ;  and  siz  she,  "  Here,  now,"  siz  she,  and  held 

up  close  at  Ned  Ilalloran's  nose,  "  shmell  to  that  now,"  siz  she  ; 
"'  if  she  did,  that  very  minnet  aff  went  the  ould  glass,  and  cut  Ned's 

'b  a'lnosi  in  two !  Yarrah  !  what  can  they  put  into  the  whiskey 
til  raake  it  go  alf  that  way,  like  sticks  a  breaking  ? 

"  Did  rou  bear  that,  Micky?  "  said  one. 

"  yUk'rai;'  said  Rlicky.     "  Vith'ral,  I  tell  ye  ! " 

Junes  Rooney  was  not  the  man  to  listen  to  tliis  marvellous  narra- 
tioo  without  a  reply. 

*'l  '11  wager  a  hat  full  of  sixpences  ould  Mick  is  right.  Mysilf 
Jms  ceen  upwards  of  twinty  glasfies  broke  that  same  way,  and  the 
punted  tahiesj'rix'xhling  up  whin  the  i>perrct  whs  spilt  an  them.  In> 
deed  I  was  toult  this  ofWn  enuugli  !  But  sure,  buys,  that's  nothin' 
lo  what  Patsy  Mungavan,  an'  mysilf,  an"  another  boy  seen  with  our 
««n  eyes  at  Scariff*.  We  wor  there  together  on  a  Sunday  to  get 
■MM;  ind  afWr  that  we  went  to  Mat  Tracy's,  him  that  keeps  the 
•bop  an*  public  hoiis*  near  the  market;  an*  Mat  had  tin  /WjnrA/njr 
•'  n'aj  Dublin  whishkey  within  in  his  yard,  which  is  an  the  shhpe 
KT  the  hill  over  the  river  ;  and  he  call't  me  in  to  help  him  rowling 
in  the  pirinchins  under  cover.  An*  what  d'  ye  think  I  seen  him  do, 
boTS*  when  he  thought  I  was  clane  gone  ?  but  I  was  only  slipped 
btnim  the  dure.  Well,  then,  he  puts  his  hand  into  his  pocket,  and 
poOa  out  ■  bottle,  vou  see;  and  thin  he  tuk  the  corks  out  of  the 

rinchim,  an'  be  dAropt  two  or  three  dhropt  Into  them,  taking  them 
lorti." 

Root, — Micky  !  do  you  hear  that? 

Jtltcjcr. — Every  word.     That  was  vith'ral ! 

KooKny  (continuing). — Maybe  bo,  indeed.  But  only  think,  boys ! 
whin  be  caroc  to  the  very  \i\siptcinchm,  his  hand  began  to  shake,  and 
tbe  bottle  shlipped,  an([  ever  so  much,  but  meself  does  not  know 
htm  rauch,  went  in,  an'  it  began  to  froth  like  a  mad  bull.  "  Oh, 
mnnrbeTl"  siz  Mat,  "I'm  ruined!"  siz  he.  "What '11  I  do?" 
lis  be.  "  Here,  James  Rooney,  run  to  me  for  the  bare  life !  "  siz 
be.  an*  he  screcchin',  "  you,  an'  all  the  boys  at  wanst ! "  si%  he. 
And  with  that,  Iicforc  there  was  time  to  say  another  word,  the 
pwiodiiti  beginn'd  to  bile,  an*  shtart,  an'  shake  itsilf ;  an*,  the  Lord 
•SVC  oa  t  saura  one  av  it  but  ru/.  up  four  feet  aff  of  the  ground  o'one 
Irp,  aoc]  kep'  lepping  down  the  side  of  the  yard,  and  Rlat  hawlin'  at 
the  top  of  his  voice  to  the  boys  to  come  help  liiiu  !  "  Gome,  will  ye, 
boys,  and  uxe  howld  of  that  infernal  pwinchin,  an'  help  nie  to  keep 
tt  fffiiCf"  >iz  he,  "or  I'll  be  ruined!"  siz  he;  "an*  it's  making 
for  the  river,  an'  it  '11  throw  itself  in,  it 's  so  hut  and  mud,"  siz  he. 
An'  so  we  hotl  all  tu  do  our  best,  av  coorse,  and  by  little  an'  little 
Mcb  itiftD  got  a  huuit  of  the  rim,  an'  it  tuk  rivB  strong  able  boys  to 
■toddy  it,  and  hould  it,  an'  it  shtruggling  for  the  wather  all  the  time, 
nniil  Mat  tuk  the  head  out  and  caoled  it. 

A  tretncndous  jell  of  deliglit  followed  this  glorious  story.  I  now 
Icxiltcd  to  BiUy  Carmody,  full  of  hope  that  he  would  not  yield  the 


-—.tor    rtthia  wm^ 
-   -g'-^  :^wjy  mad  ■»***™y  oat  tlir  |^ 
L'  VV«i].  CO  benre,  wfaiftkey  '»ai 
— -  Cue  FiCher  llatchev  tnrery  nitfiw  ' 

ny  aosr.     1  WW  vanrt,  an*  1~ 

-nrtZc.  a'  Tom  Rocmd*  bougfat  Ab 

-im  aim  fais  rooiD«  an'  liz  be,  '  RjH' ■» fct 

-9«p  otf  tfe  good  stuff/  six   he,  ■  n'  I  fanr  it 

:a  im.     VcU,  zneself  was  cowld  wid  MiBfia'idl 

I*  •»«■  I,  '  Wid  all  my  heart,  Tom,*  m  I ;  ■** 

h  ail  daj.     So  he  wint  strait  orcr  te  ]h  ^"wi. 

'  guu.    '  Now,  Bill,'  siz  h«,  '  bofaa  lAaL' 

disutill'd  !     An'  wfaispcr/  iis  br, 

Anp  to-day/  ttiz  he  ;  *  for  if  joo  do,  tbaa 

I  of  the  town/  siz  he,  '  bui  *U  put  yau  ta 

•a  he.     WcH,  sure  cnuuf;h,  I   dhrank.  it  ercry 

m-um  laws!  it  was  itlegant.     He  ped  me  my  imtjr, 

-:;tai«  oad  Si  towanis  home  fair  an'  aay.     I  livra  lA  dni 

.<«»  ntika  aff;  an'  whin  I  f(ot  about  a  mile,  1  tbo^(^ 

.mver  and  mirrarcr,  nnU  thin  m-hat  was  left  «f  Cbc 

>p«v  tbe  walU,  an*  ris  up  over  tlic  threfs,  and  pidled 

.  .tpjown  over  me ;  and  thin  my  two  eyes  tanwacbae 

"mI  wisfaa !  not  one  a'  me  but  fell  an  the  ^aA<fm€ 

'^  neighbors  rut  me,  an'  carr'd  me  borne  wid 

Mfergoodj  and  tolerably  well  applauded ;  yet  me- 
htt  vA  not  ring  quUe  so  much  as  bribre,  and  Bill 
t  to  too.  His  wits,  therefore,  were  still  at  work, 
■Mdanrr,  to  beat  Jamea  all  hollow,  be  after  a  bttle 

*!e|[ant  pt'shaties !     The  cups  is  like  sods  o'  turf 

ground,  an'  siqual  tn  the  goold !     'I'here  's  a  big 

u&  doc*  that  one  weigh  }  " 

^  1  ddnk  nigh  hand  a  pound,  at  any  Twte." 

bkpflvad,  is  it?     That's  good  weight,  to  be  wnre' 

tfwmiAty,  to  be  in  a  pt'shatic.     (A  pause  )     Well, 

:,  after  all,  to  the  one  in  a  garden  of  my  own, 

I   I  Kurltl  the  rest,  1  tuk  that  be  itiilf,  an'  the 

^cd  me,  "  What  was  it  at  all  that  I  Had  under 

I  jfMr^  head  1  had  for  my  two  shoulders,  to  put 

1  night  be  broke  in  two  }"     So  I  tould  him  it 

-  T^andrr  and  turf!  "  sia  he ;  "  hand  it  over  here," 

.1  it,**  MX  he.     So  he  put  it  into  the  akekaitMt 

Mvr  sixty  people  lookin'  an.    An*  what  d  'ye 

-(^uJba,  be  thin  crass,  it  weighed  fourteen  pounds 

_^^  ,j^  dhr  sbckale !    "  That 's  fourteen  pound/'  six  Oie 

'     ^^  ^alHif^  ■  great  big  skiver  entirely  in  tlimugli 

^^k^M  1^  shckales  ;  and  Lord  Gort,  and  her  I^y- 

nr,  an*  all  the  quality  come  to  luk  at  it ; 

\j|aij(  ye  I     (Great  applause.) 

.  that?     Whnt  a  little  thing  that ' 
-^CMhamarugue  *     1  'II  tell  ye  all  about  iL. 


laiSH    INVENTION. 


947 


There  wu  an  ould  well  in  the  garden,  an*  if  there  was,  it  never  had 
any  wathcr  in  it  in  my  time,  or  my  father's  before  me.  But  if  it 
haan'U  it  got  full  of  turf  mould,  an'  ould  dung^,  an'  eawdusht^  ;ind 
•ucli  like  things  that  gathered  in  it.  An'  if  there  did,  in  rowling 
fivme  rubbidge  into  it,  there  was  some  pajrftnup  seeds  curried  into 
it,  and  one  of  the  seeds  p-cwn  in  the  hole,  an'  we  all  let  it  alone  to 
grow  an  as  it  liked.  An'  the  mowld  bein'  very  rich  an'  good,  it 
oeefkcned  in  the  gri>und,  and  kep'  tliere,  growing  bigger  and  bigger 
€m  Bve  years.  An'  the  branches  spread  out,  an'  got  big  intircly,  all 
the  Mine  ai  the  boughs  av  a  Ihret !  An'  we  gathered  a  crop  of  secils 
aff  ir  it  every  year,  and  soult  them  for  a  shilling  an  ounce  to  tlie 
neighbours.  Well,  one  day  the  masther  himsilf  kem,  and  "  What 's 
thu  .^  "  sis  he.  — "That's  the  big  owld  pax/tnup,  yer  honor,"  sia 
I._'*Wliat  pashnup  ?  "  sit  he. —  "That's  the  pashnup,  sir,"  six 
I,  "  that 's  been  down  an'  growing  there  five  years  last  i^Iarch, 
an*  hasn't  done  growing  yit,"  siz  I.  —  "Well,  rw  it  up,"  si/,  he. 
**  I IX  not  have  it  growing  here  any  longer,"  sia  he ;  "  an'  it '»  wu- 
thw,  an'  not  parshnups,  1  want  in  this  well,"  siz  he ;  "  an'  it  '11 
bur*ht  the  well,"  «iz  he.  So  six  or  seven  of  us  gatliered  around  it, 
but  dickins  one  bit  av  us  could  move  it!  An'  so  we  called  the 
oetghbours,  and  g^otjipeeu  men,  an"  pult  it  up,  holus  ftoluA.  An'  we 
were  three  hours  risin'  it ;  an'  the  root  av  it  measured  twinttf-tme 
Jfoi,  and  the  body  jist  the  nze  of  the  well  rot/ml,  —  the  Lord  be 
praised  I  But,  av  coorse,  it  'ud  have  grenn  twenty-one  more,  only 
forth*  karH  bottom  it  came  agin. 

I  nioit  leave  the  reader  to  determine  tlie  *'  pa  Imam  qui  meruit," 
only  observing  chat,  if  vociferation  is  a  good  criterion,  I  think 
Jaows,  upon  the  whole,  came  off  victor  in  the  game  of  invention. 

But  DOW  indeed  a  scene  occurred,  which  all  at  once  altered  tlic 
Cfece  of  things,  broke  the  boasted  line  of  my  rifle  corps,  nut  the  field 
into  ni»ex|)ected  conlusion,  and  in  one  moment  caused  the  melee  of 
every  man,  woman,  child,  and  spade,  and  also  as  suddenly  roused  at 
least  a  <iaaen  dogs  of  varioug  degrees. 

A  rat  had  been  ousted  from  its  hole  !  The  rat  was  a  goodly  rat, 
«hiakere>d  as  a  dragoon,  fierce,  combative,  nimble,  quite  too  sasa- 
<iotts  and  active  for  lii<«  too  numerous  and  disorganised  foes.  He 
Tan.  he  jumped,  be  dodged,  and  hid  by  turns,  while  his  pursuers 
wrrr  tumbling  over  one  another.  Even  the  dogs  were  so  completely 
Uithered,  iJiey  knew  not  what  to  do, — scarcely  how  to  bark  ! 

"  li urr-r-r-r-8-s-8  ! "- '*  Hulla,  hulla,hull-l-l-s-s-s.'"— *' Hu^T-^ll  • " 
— "  lloiild  him,  liould  him,  Nero  !  " — "  Saze  him.  Bell  1 " — «  Now, 
Terry  II  have  him  !  " — "  Ilurr,  burr,  Captain  !  Captain  has  him  ! " 
Bat  poor  Captain,  instead  of  the  rat,  got  a  wipe  over  the  ear  with 
tbc  cage  of  a  spade. 

"  Yarrah  !  Micky,  turn  hira,  can't  ye  ?  " 

"  Musha  !  Tom,  why  didn't  yow  turn  him  ?  " 

"  Sure  I  run  up  purty  smart,  but  he  made  aff  up  the  shore." 

*'  Wally  well,  that  was  the  greatest  rot  ever  I  seen  !  Ne<l,didyuu 
rrer  mc  mich  a  digger  tme  f     It  was  all  as  one  as  a  cat !  " 

A  girl  (and  a  very  pretty  one,  too)  to  a  young  fellow,  tauntingly, 
— "Ah.  Johnny,  why  Aidn'i  you  catch  him?" 

"Snre,  how  'ud  I,  when  lie  hid  away  from  me  in  the  furrow,  as 
ycncirdoTM  hfhinti  Ihf  turf  »t(tck,  and  me  looking  for  you?  " 


2iS 


THE   8TBAUNG   OP  THE   TREASURE. 


1 


The  furrcr,  indeed  ]    li 


"  Ayeh  !  you  're  welcome  to  your  jokes, 
must  be  thai  the  wtctU  dnzzUd  ye." 

**  Whisper  now,  asthorough.     It  was  .your  own  edf,  inaybei 
duzling  me  all  the  time." 

After  this  gallant  aally^  which  I  thought  l>eat  rat-hunting  all  K 
low,  I  fulluwcd  the  rat's  example,  and  stole  away,  wonderiag  whi 
thcr   I  should  be  able  to  remember  all  the»e  inventions.     I 
indeed  doubtful  whether  1  have  done  them  justice ;    but,  gentle 
reBder,  if  you  are  amused,  I  am  rewarded. 


THE  STEALING  OF  THE  TREASURE. 

''Sahib,  Sahib!  kasanah  loot  gijah  !  —  Sir,  sir!  the  treasure 
stolen !  "  screamed  a  breathless  Bengalee,  as  he  rushed  towards  myl 
tent,  or  rather  the  stable,  in  which,  from  want  of  a  better  shelter,  1 
had  pitched  ray  camp,  to  protect  my  head  from  the  rays  of  m  nearly 
vertical  sun. 

The  Bengal  Herald,  which  I  was  conning  over  by  the  light  of  • 
lamp  well  fed  witli  cocoa-nut  oil,  dropped  from  my  hand  as  I  heard 
the  astounding  cry,  and  before  this  hearer  of  ill  tidings  made  his  ap- 
pearance I  had  donned  my  foraging-cap,  snatched  up  my  sword,  and 
sallied  forth,  telling  my  bearer  to  tbllow  with  my  gun  and  ptstoU. 

The  house  of  a  native  banker,  situated  in  the  very  centre  of  a  town 
on  the  opposite  aide  of  the  river,  had  been  attacked  by  a  band  of 
dacoit»<,  or  robbers,  a  few  nights  before,  and  money  and  jewellery  to 
a  considerable  amount  plundered.  My  first  impressions,  iberelbrc, 
on  hearing  the  frightened  Bengalee,  were,  that  the  little  guard  over 
the  Govermuent  funds  under  my  charge  had  been  surprised  and 
overpowered  ;  for  I  had  rtill  further  weakened  it  by  detaching  more 
than  half  of  the  few  men  allowed  me,  to  escort  from  the  nearest  col- 
lectorship  some  extra  treasure  required  fur  the  use  of  the  depart- 
ment to  which  I  belonged. 

I  could  obtain  no  further  intelligence  from  this  individual.  He 
was  too  alarmed  or  too  excited  to  tell  the  little  he  did  know.  I  hur- 
ried past  him  to  the  office  where  the  Government  treasure  was  kept, 
— a  mere  step  from  my  dwelling. 

An  Indian  night  is  seldom  very  dark,  and  I  could  plainly  see,  as 
I  approached,  the  bullock-cart  I  hail  despatched  the  day  liefore 
standing  at  the  door,  with  the  jemadar  and  one  of  his  men  squatting 
beside  it. 

"Well,  Bussunt  Sing,'*  I  exclaimed,  "have  you  brought  the  trfan 
sure.^" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  replied  the  jemadar,  as  he  endeavoured  to  atand  up- 
right, but  reeling  in  the  attempt,  '*  all  is  well." 

"  Then  what  have  you  done  with  it?"  said  I,  looking  into  the 
cart,  and  seeing  only  the  empty  box  witli  the  lid  wrenched  off. 

"  It  is  there,"  rcjoinetl  the  old  fellow,  pointing  to  the  cart, 

I  got  into  the  vehicle,  and  gru^ietl  around  me.  There  was  nothlitf 
besides  the  lidless  box. 

"And  where  are  your  men?  "  I  exclaimed. 

"  There,"  said  the  jemadar,  motioning  with  his  hand  towjurda  I 
solitary  burkandaze  beside  him- 


OF   THE   TREASDRB. 


S49 


*•  Tell  me.  villnin.  where  Is  the  treasure  ?  "  I  shook  the  old  man  in 
■  paroxysm  of  rxge. 

A^n  and  a^ain  lie  mumb]e<l,  "  It  is  there,"  as  I  reiterated  the 
queatiun  till  nearly  exhausted  with  m)'  own  vehemence.  It  struck 
mr  that  the  old  creature  (he  vhs  nearly  seventy)  might  have  been 
attacked  by  dacoitit,  and  »o  frightened  by  the  carrying  off  of  the 
iiey  OA  to  have  become  childish.  His  being  without  jacket  or 
tMwsers,  bareheiided,  with  only  a  waist-cloth,  upon  hira,  confirmed 
me  in  the  idea.  I  determined  to  try  what  effect  a  milder  tone  would 
htve. 

"  WTiere  was  it  you  met  with  the  dacoits,  Kussunt  Sing?"  I 
wked,  in  as  fr^ntle  a  manner  as  my  patience  would  allow. 

•*  The  dacoitit  stole  the  banker's  treasure  at  B—  — ,"  was  the  only 
iii«wrr  I  could  obtain.  1  turned  to  the  burkandasej  who  bad  liitherta 
tat  quietly  on  his  haunches. 

"  Get  up,  and  tell  me,"  said  1,  giving  him  a  puU  to  expedite  his 
riaing ;  but  he  hun^  biick,  and,  as  I  thought,  menaced  me  with  his 
BWfml,  which  he  held  naked  in  hia  rieht  hand.  **  Give  me  your 
•word/'  I  added.  He  only  looked  wilder,  and  brandished  it.  I 
vised  bis  ann,  and  afW  a  short  struggle^  got  ]KM»»essiou  of  the 


VMDOa. 

From 


from  thiit  man  I  could  learn  nothing.  To  no  purpose  I  shook, 
and  even  kicked  him  ;  he  could  not,  or  would  not  speak.  What  was 
to  be  done.^  I  was  alone,  Mrithout  any  other  European  at  the  place 
txcept  a  wrgennt,  whose  quarters  were  at  the  other  end  of  the  tines. 
Tb«  itstion  was  new  to  me,  fur  I  had  just  arrived.  I  imssessed  no 
bcal  knowletlgc.  I  neither  knew  the  adjacent  country,  nor  the 
cfaarscterfi  of  the  natives.  To  add  to  my  difficulties,  several  hours 
utut  eUpic  before  the  day  would  dawn. 

That  tne  treasure  was  gone  was  too  evident ;  and  I  knew  full  well 
ihe  Government  would  call  on  me  to  refund  the  money,  unless  I 
CDuld  d«visc  some  means  for  its  recovery.  The  payment  of  the  sum 
wmU  detain  me  a  year  or  two  longer  in  a  country  which  I  was 
Bolt  aiixioun  to  quit,  besides  attaching  a  stigma  to  my  name,  and 
^erhaua  involving  the  loss  of  my  staff-appointment. 

Sucli  were  the  thoughts  that  crowded  on  me.  I  felt  that  some- 
thiiif;  niuat  be  dune,  and  that  immediately.  I  stait  for  the  £uro|jean 
•cT;gcant,  and  to  the  nearest  police  station  for  assistance. 

A  police  jenmdar  and  wmie  peons  soon  made  their  appearance,  to 
wbnav  custody  I  made  over  the  two  burkandazes,  desiring  them  to 
iDtarrogate  the  prisoners  respecting  the  lost  treasure,  while  I  sat  my- 
•elf  down  to  |>en  nn  account  of  its  strange  disappearance  to  Uie  ma- 
gncmtr  uf  the  district,  whom  I  entreated  to  exert  every  effort  in  his 
power  to  recover  the  money. 

Wbilnl  writing  my  report,  the  sergeant  walked  into  the  oHicc  with 
a  giun  nn  U'i»  shoulder,  which  he  said  his  wife  ingiHteil  upon  his 
bringing,  am  a  defence  against  tiie  dacoits.  To  my  inquiries  as  to 
rhat  it  would  be  odviaa^e  to  do  to  recover  the  Government  money, 
■■■Id  obtain  no  counsel  whatever.  No  suggestions,  though  I  need, 
t  ttwrm  greatly,  could  I  extract  from  his  commonplace  intellect. 

He  waa  coiivincetl,  he  nnid.  that  treasure  ought  never  to  be  Kent 
JSor  without  a  gmird  of  regular  Hepoys  to  escort  it ;  and  this  he  de:^- 
|,  cant«<)  on  to  the  nativcd  in  HiniU»taiuiec,  as  well  as  to  me  in  Kng- 
mk,  though  I  told  him  repeaUtlly  I  had  ouly  acted  as  my  predece«- 
Yoj.  nil.  « 


9S0 


THE  STEALING    OP   TtlK    TREASURE. 


Mrs  had  done  before  me,  in  einploying  a  burkundaze  guard  ; 
that  I  had  not  tiiken  the  step  till  satisfied  of  the  inutility  of  applying; 
fur  a  guard  of  rcguLirs,  by  seeing,  from  letters  in  the  office,  that  it  j 
had  already  been  refused  on  former  occaMons, 

To  prevent  hia  further  di»coursc.  which,  under  existing  circum-' 
stances,  was  only  nn  jinnoyance,  I  desireil  the  sergeant  to  copy  the 
letter  1  had  just  liniahed  to  the  magistrate,  while  I  concoctnl  witli 
the  intwnshee,  who,  with  roost  of  the  office  people,  bad  by  this  time 
Bsaembled,  the  form  of  a  circular  in  Persian,  which  1  intended  Up{ 
send  to  all  the  neighbouring  thannahit,  or  police  oOices. 

My  object  in  de&iring  to  have  the  letter  copied  was,  that  I  might 
be  able  to  show  the  Governuient,  in  cuse  I  did  not  succeed  in  reco- 
vering the  money,  that  I  had  neglected  no  means  within  my  power 

to  accomplish  the  measure.     But  Sergeant  F said  he  could  not 

see  to  write  by  candle-Ught ;  and  my  Hengulee  baboo,  or  writer, 
declared  he  could  not  read  the  letter  I  had  penned.  It  wai,  doubt- 
less, hastily  written  ;  but  still  it  was  legible  enough,  had  not  fright 
somewhat  obscuretl  the  baboo's  faculties. 

I  was  consequently  obliged  to  transcribe  my  own  production ; 
and,  as  the  sergeant  was  anything  but  useful,  and  not  a  little  in  my 
way,  I  recommended  him  to  return  to  his  wife.  It  wa«  not  mu<^ 
alter  ten  o'clock. 

lie  took  my  advice ;  and,  having  sent  off  my  despatches,  I  mounted, 
and  rode  hastily  along  the  road  by  which  the  treasure-cart  h.id  come. 
I  hsd  not  gone  far  before  I  saw  the  hhndow  of  a  native  gliding  along' 
a  field  on  one  side  of  me,  and  immediately  gave  chase,  it  appearing 
to  me  thnt  thi^  person  had  turned  olf  the  road  purposely  to  avoiu 
me.  On  coming  up  with  the  individual,  I  recognised  him  lo  be  the 
gnrrcwan,  or  driver  of  the  bullock-cart,  and  I  determined  to  lodge 
him  in  the  thannah  before  I  proceeded  further. 

On  our  way,  I  propuunded  several  questions  respecting  the  trcs- 
Rure  to  my  priscmer,  who  was  a  lad  of  eighteen  or  nineteen  years  ot" 
age.  He  was  either  drunk  or  pretended  to  be  !^o,  and  I  gained  no- 
thing from  his  answers  beyond  a  strengthening  of  the  suspicion  I 
already  entertained,  that  no  dacoity  had  taken  place,  but  that  the 
treasure  had  either  been  stolen  by  the  burkandazes  of  the  guard 
tlicmselves,  or  with  their  connivance. 

Having  safely  incarcerated  the  garrewan  in  the  stocka  of  tbc 
thannah,  I  now  held  a  consultation  with  the  police  jemadar,  by  fcr 
the  most  intelligent  person  I  had  hitherto  conver:»ed  with,  respecting 
what  eteps  it  would  be  advisable  to  take  next.  He  was  for  immedi* 
ately  searching  the  dwellings  of  the  garrewjin,  and  such  of  t}ie  burk- 
andase  guard  as  resided  near  at  hand.  One  or  two  of  them  were 
from  a  distant  part  of  the  country,  and  had  formerly  been  sepoys  in 
the  very  battalion  of  which  I  was  for  several  years  the  adjutant. 
The  houses  healludedto  were  not  exactly  within  his  division,  or  beat, 
Salamut  Ally  said;  but,  if  1  would  accompany  him.  and  give  tlie 
necessary  orders,  or,  in  other  words,  take  the  rc«ponsib)litv  cm  my- 
w\i\  he  would  institute  a  search  forthwith  ;  and  expressea  biaueir 
,  couHdent  that  wc  should  succeed  in  recovering  some  of  the  treanire. 
_Jol  knowing  what  I  could  do  better,  I  agreed  to  his  projKwal,  and 
[off  wc  set,  accompanied  by  some  six  or  eight  police  peons,  armed 
;  with  swards  and  shields,  and  as  many  more  of  my  own  scrranta. 

We  first  bent  our  way  lo  a  village  about  a  mile  distant,  and,  after 


TIIK   STEAUt 


rHE    TREASURE. 


251 


Eng  through  wveral  narrow  lanes  redolent  of  mire  and  filth, 
At  «  small  doorway  in  a  mud  wall.   Thiti  was  the  garrewan'a 
.~»«,— a  hut  inferior  in  si«e  and  construction  to  the  generality  of 
^^       Englifih  pig-styes.     It  conMSted  of  only  one  small  apartment^  about 
^K      ten  feet  by  six,  formed  by  a  slight  roof  of  bamboos  tbatched  with 
^V      S^otMf  suspended  to  the  Hide  of  the  mud-wall  opposite  the  door  by 
which  we  entered,  the  intermediate  space  being  a  sort  of  yard,  three 
or  four  paces  in  breadth. 

To  pet  within  this  habitation  was  no  eaiy  matter,  as  the  roof  de- 
•ccndcd  to  within  a  foot  or  two  of  the  ground.  I  contrived,  how- 
ever, to  «(|ueexe  myself  through  the  aperture  used  as  an  entrance, 
I  which  also  ful511ed*thc  officer  of  window  and  chimney.  By  the  light 
ufour  lantern  I  perceived  that  its  only  tenanta  were  a  little  shrivel- 
led  decrepit  old  woman,  and  a  young  girl,  apparently  fourteen  or 
ttteen  years  of  age,  thin  and  pale,  but  reully  pretty,  and  quite  a 
emtnkt  to  her  companion,  who  was  hideously  ugly.  They  were 
King  tJut  asleep,  doubled  up  together  un  a  Hmall  charpoy,  —  a  mere 
flvme  of  bamboos,  not  a  foot  high,  about  four  in  length,  and  half  as 
broad,  with  a  sacking  (there  was  neither  mattress  nor  bedding) 
fanned  of  a  n«t-wurk  of  grass.  This,  witli  a  few  half-baked  poU 
.  and  pma,  was  the  only  furniture.     Their  stock  of  clothes  was  on 

^K     ifacir  backa. 

^P  Tbc  slumber  of  these  poor  creatures  was  so  profound  that  we  did 

'  not  disturb  them,  and  it  was  not  till  the  police  were  dragging  them 

anceremoniouslv  into  the  little  yard  that  they  evinced  any  Hymptoms 
oTftwaking.  Wh<-n  llipy  did  open  tlieir  e^es,  it  was  not  to  utter  any 
ndunation  or  remonstrance.  .Scpiatting  m  a  comer,  they  looked  on 
at  our  proceedings  in  silence,  with  an  apparent  apathy  which  extreme 
poverty  alone  could  induce. 

The  charpoy  was  soon  drawn  outside  the  hovel ;  the  pots  and  pans 
fUMshed  ill  pieces,  to  se*  if  they  contained  rupees ;  and  the  police 
prirked  iJie  walls,  roof,  and  floor  oV  the  place  with  the  jiointa  ot  their 
vword*.  and  even  dug  up  the  ash-heap  in  tlie  rear,  to  ascertain  if  any 
roin  were  concealed  witnin. 

The  search  proving  fruitless,  we  proceeded  to  question  the  wo- 
nen.  The  old  cTone  and  the  girl,  the  mother  and  wife  of  the  ^arre- 
w«it,  protesteil  that  he  had  not  returned  home  since  the  morinng  of 
die  day  ttefore,  when  he  went  with  the  bullock-cart  to  bring  the 
II«asurr,  and  that  they  liad  not  even  heard  of  the  robbery. 

My  friend  the  jeinadnr,  by  no  means  «atijified  with  the  result,  was 
for  administering  a  little  Hagctlation  to  make  them  confess.  To  this 
I  decidedly  objected,  but  yielded  at  length  to  his  entreaties  to  be 
■Uowrd  to  make  them  prisoners  ;  and  we  hastened  on  to  another 
▼flhgv.  carrying  the  old  woman  and  the  daughter-in-law  in  our  train. 
The  rasuundrr  of  the  night  was  consumed  in  searching  dwellings, 
BOnrwhat  sunerior  to  that  of  the  gnrrewnn,  but  all  evincing  an  ap- 
pearance of  abject  poverty.  We  found  nothing  ;  but  the  number  of 
priaonrr*  was  cousulerably  increased  by  the  apprehension  of  several 
tftht  relations  of  the  suspected  )}artiefl.  principally  men,  whom  we 
DDoiluctf^  to  the  thannah, — a  proceeding  to  w  hicn  the  parties  arrested 
■abtnittcd  as  n  mutter  of  course,  without  offering  the  slightest  re- 
Bumstrancr.  Probably  they  had  been  too  much  accustomed  to  sec 
a  mraaure  of  the  sort  enforced  on  similar  occasiona  to  think  of 
pTDtealiog  against  it. 

*  2 


258 


THE   STEALtNO   OF   THE   TREASUEB. 


It  was  now  morning.  The  two  burkandaxes  and  the  gmrewim 
slill  wire,  or  seemed  to  be,  under  the  influence  of  «onie  narcutic 
drug,  and  we  could  make  nothing  ol'  then).  The  rest  of  our  pri-  | 
soners  all  plearled  ignorance  of  any  robberj-  having  taken  place.  I 
was  therefore  apparently  no  further  advanced  lawards  the  recovery 
of  the  money  tiuii  before  I  had  broken  into  the  habitatioiis  of  the 
slumbering  villagerit  in  so  arbitrary  a  manner.  1  felt  not  s  little 
diiiheartened  at  ray  ill  success. 

Still  anything  was  preferable  to  stttine;  down  in  despair;  and, 
having  changed  ray  horse,  1  again  procecdetl  along  the  roud  the  cart 
must  huve  come  ;  but  all  1  gained  was  the  mLtisfacliun  of  finding  the 
four  reniuiniiig  burknndnze»  of  the  guard  (also  under  the  seinblADce 
of  Iwing  overpowered  by  Komething  nurcotic)  in  custody  at  a  neigh- 
bouring thannah,  to  which  one  of  my  circulars  had  been  dee|iatched. 
From  thcHc  men  it  wni^a-simppsKiblc  to  fibtiiin  any  information  as  froin 
their  comrades,  and  I  retraced  my  steps  slowly*  for  I  felt  depnncd 
in  spirit. 

Aa  1  approached  the  spot  where  I  had  the  night  Iwfore  turned  off 
the  road  to  overtake  the  garrewan,  my  eyes  fell  upon  a  little  bag, 
about  the  si/.e  of  a  pur.se,  lying  at  the  side  of  the  footpath.  I  dii^ 
mounted,  and  found  the  content.s  to  be  only  a  pice  or  two,  and  a 
small  quantity  of  spice.  While  engaged  in  the  e.xaminatiDn,  1  rtv.  i 
ticetl  for  the  tir.ii  time  that  a  <lrain  or  water-course  ran  below  the 
road  at  this  ptscc,  which  was  here  siimcwhat  higher  than  the  sur- 
rounding country,  and,  stooping  to  look  into  it,  thought  I  couhl  per- 
ceive Kuni et hi ng  lying  within  u  few  yards  from  the  mouth.  It  might  i 
be  a  log  of  wood  ;  but  the  more  I  looked,  the  more  I  fancied  it  re-  j 
sembled  a  bag  of  rupees. 

Not  being  «ble  to  get  at  this  object  myself. —  for  I  had  my  borae,  I 
besides  being  impeded  by  my  wooden  leg, — I  filled  for  my  ^ce, 
who  was  only  a  short  way  in  the  rear.  Not  being  over- scrupulous 
about  a  little  dirt,  he  wormed  himself  into  tlie  drain,  and  vm*\  lugged 
out  a  large  canvass  bag  containing  two  thousand  rupees  (two  hun* 
dred  pounds  sterling),  with  the  collector's  seal  ou  the  muutli  still 
unbroken. 

Word»i  cannot  paint  my  delight:  it  repaid  me  for  all  I  hod  preri*! 
ously  endured.  I  felt  that  the  recovery  of  tliis  bag  w^os  but  a  pr^' 
cursor  to  that  of  the  remainder;  and,  as  1  hiutcned  back  to  my 
friend,  Salamut  Ally,  at  Ins  thannah,  with  my  groom  by  my  dde, 
carrj'ing  the  money  on  his  head,  I  was  no  longer  tormented  with  the 
idea  of  being  culled  on  to  rcfun<l  the  treasure,  or  taunted  with  not 
having  obst^rved  due  ])ri'cautJohs  for  its  protectiiin. 

I  pictured  to  myself  the  whole  sum  as  already  recovered,  and  tiw 
oBtrnilers  1  had  secured, —  of  w*huse  guilt  1  no  longer  entertained  a 
doubt,  KS  convicted  and  punished.  The  Government,  ul!<o,  I  flatter- 
ed myself,  would  pass  no  slight  encomiums  on  my  crmduct  on  an 
occasion  in  which  1  had,  I  thought,  displayed  some  degree  of  seal 
and  activity,  if  nut  iiitelligenee.  How  fur  my  expcctatiuna  were 
realizetl  the  sequel  will  disclose. 

The  spice-biig  was  recogniNed  as  the  property  of  the  garrewan, 
who.  no  doubt,  huil  hidden  the  ru|>ces,  intiL-nding  to  carry  them  off 
as  .noon  aa  I  should  have  ]»assed  by,  which  my  tiaving  perceived, 
and  incarcerated  him  ui  the  thannah  so  promptly  prevented  hia  ex- 
ecuting. 


THE   STEALING    OF   THE    TREASURR. 


253 


The  police  jtmaiUr  was  now  as  fon6c1ent  a«  myself  witli  reiipcTt 
lo  the  recovering  of  ihe  remainder;  and  inMsted  so  strcnuoiiBly  on 
the  necessity  of  iidminif^teniij;  a  few  strokes  of  a  rntt^in  to  the  haram- 
xuljih,  the  cnfir*  of  a  garrewun,  as  he  termed  the  bidlcx'k-driver,  for 
the  purpose  of  inducing  the  fellow  to  confess  where  the  money  was 
Cdocemled,  that  I  consented  to  tlie  experiment. 

We  conducted  our  prJMincr  to  the  K{>ot  where  I  had  found  the 
tiMn«y,  Salamut  Ally  bestowing'  sundry  blessingrt  with  true  Mus- 
sulman fervour  on  the  parents  of  such  an  offsprinf;  of  a  pig  ;  such 
au  infidel  dug  of  a  gwalluh,  or  cowherd,  who,  faitliless  to  his  salt, 
bad  pre^umetl  to  steal  the  treasure  of  the  Company  buliador.t  After 
acquainting  the  garrewan  with  llie  circumstance  of  the  discovery  of 
the  rupee*  he  had  hidden,  he  was  recommende<t  to  point  out  the 
mt  of  the  coin  if  he  wished  to  preserve  a  whole  skin.  But  he  pro< 
tested  he  had  never  hithlen  the  money.  He  was  but  a  poor  bullock- 
itrirer.  aiid  knew  nuthtng  about  the  treasure  which  it  was  the  burk- 
anJjutes'  business  to  look  after. 

Finding  I  could  make  nothing  of  Lootie  (that  was  the  garrcwan's 
Bwoe)  by  fair  means,  [  rofle  on  about  a  humlred  yards,  leaving  him 
in  the  hands  of  the  police ;  one  of  whom  began  forthwith  to  scourge 
Um  with  a  itout  switch,  while  two  others  held  him  by  each  ear  in 
tut  gentle  manner.  He  .Hcreoined  lu&tily.  When  I  Uinught  he  had 
received  a  tolerable  taste  of  punishment,  I  determined  to  try  what 
effect  promises  would  have.  Act-nnlingly  I  rude  back,  nnd  desired 
the  ixtlice  to  -tiy  their  hands.  Addressing  myself  to  the  garrewan,  I 
told  htm  there  was  no  chance  of  his  escaping  punishment  now  his 
a|ncr-baff  ami  the  rupees  had  been  discovered  at  the  very  sfwt  on 
whicb  I  had  apprehenile<l  bira,  unless  he  informed  against  his  com- 
railea,  aiid  pointed  out  where  the  whole  of  the  treasure  was  hidden  : 
I  added  tliat  if  he  did  this  1  would  give  him  a  handsome  preaent. 
tio,  be  know  nothing  about  the  treasure,  and  was  quite  innocent  of 
ihe  raU>ery. 

Once  more  1  took  myself  off,  and  again  the  police  lielaboured 
liini.  I  took  no  notice  of  Iiis  outcries  this  time  ;  but  kept  ray  back 
temed  towards  him,  with  my  eyes  fixed  on  the  ground,  as  if  in 
March  of  the  lost  treasure*  At  length  he  roared  out  for  the  sahib  to 
come  back.  This  1  lo^t  no  time  in  doing,  for  I  felt  assured  he  was 
new  going  to  make  sonic  disclosure. 

"  Well,  I^iotie,  what  have  you  got  lo  Say  to  me?  I  am  sure  you 
intend  to  become  a  faithful  subject  of  the  Company,  and  discover 

•a,- 

*•  1  will  speak  with  the  sahib  alone,"  he  said ;  and,  knowing  there 
vsa  no  chance  of  his  escaping,  I  did  not  hesiLitc  to  humour  him  in 
this  request.  Telling  the  police  to  let  him  go,  I  took  him  with  me 
a  &w  yards  on  one  side,  when  hcwhi-tpered  that  some  of  the  money 
was  buried  in  titc  sand  of  the  river  at  a  spot  be  named,  about  a  mile 
oC  I  did  not  now  hold  nut  to  htm  the  promise  of  reward  ;  but  to 
ktn  him  in  giKHl  humour,  cau«te(l  his  arms  to  be  unbouu<l,  and  the 
C&dlh  that  hail  been  lied  round  his  waist  to  lead  him  by,  to  be  taken 
•C  and  allowed  him  to  walk,  or  rather  run,  at  large  amongst  the 
palicc  peons,  to  the  spot  he  l)ud  mentioned. 

There  I  had  soon  the  satisfaction  of  digging  up  another  bug  of 
nipcci^  of  equal  aixc  witli  the  former  one:  tlie  sight  of  which  pro- 


Rajpifi  Boil  infidel. 


+  BliRliljr,  powerful,  or  raliBiU  runiiwny. 


264 


THE  sti:alino  op  the  treasure. 


duced  many  an  exclamation  of  "  HViA  /  u'ah  !  khoodah  htifiz  f  "  ftn 
the  Hindoos;  and  *'  Allah  akbar  !  "  God  in  great!  from  the  Miistud- 
raana  of  the  party.  The  greater  part  of  both  persuasions,  takin;;  the 
opportunity  of  administering  a  few  compliments  to  me  in  the  Ori- 
ental style,  on  the  goodness  of  my  nuseeh  aiid  kirntut,  —  fortune  and 
fate.  I  do  not  recollect  ever  conversing  with  a  native  of  IntU«)  j 
either  Hindoo  or  Itlu8sulman,  who  did  ntkt  prov'e  a  con6rrae<l  fatalitt. 

A  large  portion  of  the  treasure  was  still  to  be  found,  and  I  took 
the  gurrewan  apart  again.  But,  no  ;  he  protested  that  he  knew  no- 
thing about  the  remainder.  The  two  bags  we  had  found,  be  de- 
clared, were  the  whole  of  his  share.  He  had  pointed  them  out,  and 
could  do  no  more. 

Not  having  implicit  confidence  in  his  veracity,  I  called  for  the 
police,  and,  in  spite  of  his  entreatiea,  made  him  over  to  their  tender 
mercies  a  third  time.  They  commenced  so  roitghly  that  I  became 
alarmed,  and  thought  it  high  time  to  interfere.  The  poor  wretch 
repeated  his  declaration,  but  added,  that  if  we  apprehended  another 
garrewan,  whom  he  named,  he  could  tell  us  all. 

It  was  resolved,  therefore,  that  we  should  endeavour  to  pounce  | 
upon  this  personage,  who  had  absconded  ;  and  I  df^parteil   at  full 

?allop  for  a  village  where  1  was  told  I  should  probably  find  him. 
■pon  my  arrival  I  was  informed  bv  the  villagers,  who  were,  per- 
haps, anxious  to  get  rid  of  me,  that  he  hfld  been  there  that  morning, 
and  hod  only  lift  it  a  few  minutes  before.  Thinking  I  was  now  on 
the  right  track,  I  spurred  on  from  place  to  place,  fancying  every 
native  1  saw  to  be  the  fellow  I  was  in  pursuit  of,  till  botli  my  horae 
and  self  began  tu  show  symptoms  of  fatigue. 

It  then  occurred  to  nie  tliat  as  1  h»d  never  seen  the  man  in  qties- 
tion,  I  should  not  be  the  wiser  if  I  hap]>ened  to  rim  against  liitn, 
unless  I  had  some  one  with  me  to  point  him  out ;  for  by  this  time  I 
had  discovered  tliere  was  little  reliance  to  be  placed  in  the  accounta  i 
I  received.  To  proceed  further  was  useless;  atid  I  returned  to  the 
place  where  I  hnd  left  Salamut  Ally,  to  refjort  my  ill  success. 

Amongst  the  people  we  had  arrested  was  one  man  who  proved  to  ^ 
be  the  uncle  of  the  individual  of  whom  we  were  in  quest  ;  and  thi« 
person  offered  to  produce  iiis  nephew,  provided  I  wouM  give  him, 
and  some  other  members  of  his  family,  also  in  confinement  at  tfa« 
thannah,  theii  liberty.     To  this  I  acceded  at  once  ;  and  despiU.cbed| 
him  on  Iiis  mission,  accompanied  by  two  policemen. 

During  his  absence  I  regaled  the  remainder  of  the  party,  in- 
cluding the  prisoners,  witli  sweetmeats;  confectionary  —  if  the  vile 
compound  of  grease,  milk,  and  sugar,  of  an  Indian  bazar,  come  un- 
der that  denomination —  being  the  only  article  procurable  that  did 
not  require  dressing.     I  also  sent  for  a  fresh  horse. 

In  less  than  an  hour  the  two  returned,  bringing  with  them,  nther 
to  my  surprise  I  confess,  the  man  we  wanted. 

This  gave  Salamut  Ally  an  opportunity  of  holding  forth  on 
eKpc*diency  of  apprehending  the  relations  of  offenders  ;  and.  as  I 
not  deem  it  prudent  to  gainsay  his  doctrines,  he  was  fully  persuade 
that  I  anw  the  folly  of  having  been  »o  fastidious  about  trie  appr 
hcnsiun  of  a  few  viUagera,  merely  because  1  had  no  charge  against 
them. 

We  had  much  less  trouble  with  our  new-comer  than  with  Loatic  ; 
one  good  flrubbing  made  him  discover  all  he  knew. 


THE  STEALING  OP  THB  TREASURE. 


S55 


» 


aid  the  money  was  buried  At  different  places,  ttt  a  consti- 

(  cliitance,  no  time  was  to  be  lost ;  for,  if  not  recovered  befnre 

re  wu  reason  to  oppreliend  that  the  ba^  would  be  dug  up 

^tbe  night;  and,  if  once  divided  into  small  sums,  there  would 

Je  clutnce  of  tracing   them.      We  trotted  on,   therefore,  a* 

Ij  as  the  people  on  foot  could  get  niong  ;  and  by  five  in  the  af- 

m  had  dug  up  the  whole  sum  (with  the  exception  of  n  few 

s)  frou)  seven  ditfereiit  places.     Only  one  of  the  bags  had  been 

o])cn :    the  rest  were  in  the  some  state  as  when  they  issued 

the  collector's  treasury. 

As  I  wa.i  returning  homewards,  the  money  all  safe,  the  magift- 
mic's  reply  to  my  applicjitinn  wan  put  into  my  hand.  He  stated  his 
npet  at  hearing  of  the  los»,  and  ]}ron))3ed  to  use  his  utmost  endea- 
voora  for  the  apprehenHiun  of  the  offenders ;  but.  with  respect  to  the 
BMoey,  said  he  tearc<l  there  was  no  chance  of  recovering  it.  I  smiled 
vbcn  1  read  his  prognostication.  But,  after  all,  there  was  nothing 
Mrange  in  his  m  Aing  the  assertion  ;  for  the  recovery  of  specie,  when 
voce  stolen,  is,  indeed,  a  rare  occurrence  in  India,  where  the  police 
Are  universatly  corrupt,  and  consequently  inefficient.  Added  to 
which,  there  must  always  be  a  greater  facility  in  circulating  bard 
rmn  writhout  detection,  than  in  passing  bank-notes  ;  and  few  of  the 
btter  are  seen  beyond  the  immediate  neighbourhood  of  Calcutta. 
Had  I  not,  by  commencing  my  search  on  the  very  night  of  the  rob- 
boy  disturbed  tlie  diieves  before  they  had  time  to  convey  the  ru- 
pet»  to  any  distance,  no  traces  of  them  would  ever  have  been  found. 

Having  locked  up  my  recovered  treasure  in  the  office-chest,  and 
Imrd  fresh  burkandazes  for  its  protection,  in  lieu  of  those  ia  con- 
finement, I  con-iidercd  It  was  now  high  time  to  atten<t  to  my  own 
wants,  —  for  I  had  been  nearly  twenty  hours  on  horseback  without 
any  refreshment  but  water,  of  which  1  took  several  draughts  during 
lll«  <Ut.  I  first,  however,  released  the  whole  of  the  people  who  had 
becti  incjirccrated  on  account  of  relationship  ; — a  happiness  they 
scarcely  uilia'[iated,  for  they  were  most  profu.se  in  their  salaaius. 

The  next  evening  the  burkandaxe  guard,  and  the  two  garrcwnns, 
werr  forwarded  to  the  district  gaol,  to  btami  their  trial  before  the 
aaminal  court.  I  was  not  present,  but  understood  their  defence 
vu  thU:  the  burkandaxes  said  they  had  halted  to  refresh  them- 
itWc» ;  and  the  garrewans  had  contrived  to  mix  some  deleterious 
drug  witli  their  food,  by  which  they  became  stupified  ;  when  the 
garrewaus  broke  i»|ien  the  box,  and  curried  off*  the  money.  The  gar- 
rtwaiu  asMTted  that  the  burkaiulaxes  had  plundered  the  cart  theni- 
a«lv«9:  and  that  they  had  only  assiiited  in  carrying  off*  the  treasure. 
Tbir  sentence  pasied  by  the  court  on  tlie  burkundaxes  was  impri* 
s«niomt  in  the  gaol  for  six  months ;  on  the  garrewans,  lubour  on 
tile  rottds  for  seven  years. 

But  the  real  offender,  who  contrived  the  whole  afl*uir,  escjiped 
with  impunity,  Jio  (taboo  wa>i  the  head  native  of  that  branch  of 
tb*  department  which  I  had  lately  joined.  He  conmienced  his  career 
in  life  witli  only  a  brass  cota,  or  pot,  in  his  hand,  and  the  clothes  he 
wopre  on  his  back  ;  and,  with  a  salary  which  never  at  any  time  ex- 
ceeded one  huttdred  rupees  (ten  pounds)  per  month,  had  contrived, 
by  mlfering  from  tlie  Government,  to  amass  a  considerable  fortune, 
htmde*  living  at  a  rate  far  exceeding  his  official  »tiiwnd. 

Altboogh  addicted  to  intoxication  —  a  strange  vice  for  a  Brolnnin 


9S6 


THE   STEALING    OP   TUE    TaEASUSB. 


—his  faculties  were  unimpmreil ;  And,  in  juldttion  to  good  abilities, 
he  pO(iwss<.*t1  Unit  cunning  and  tact  fnr  adinini«4tcrinf;  flattery,  for 
which  the  Hiiulodfj  arc  ])rovcrbiany  celebrated.  He  had  invariably 
insinuated  liiniM^lfinto  the  gootl  grnceK  ufthe  Eur(ij>ean  officers  iin-^H 
der  whom  lie  served  ;  aiul,  |)erliap.H  tVoiii  indolence  on  their  parts,  ^ 
had  been  allowed  to  exercise  functions  forei(rn  to  the  nature  of  tlie 
situation  he  held  under  Government — that  of  English  writer  li>  the 
Bupcrintendenl.  At  the  period  of  my  arrival  he  either  supplied 
himself,  or  through  people  he  employed,  whatever  cornmodities 
were  required  for  the  use  of  Government;  from  gram  and  oats,  down 
to  a  banibon,  or  an  earthen  jar,  all  was  fiirnitthed  by  Bo  Baboo;  and 
on  everything  he  reaped  a  double  profit. 

Had  he  actually  furnished  the  whole  quantum  charged  (or,  he 
would  still  have  gaine<l  a  handsome  per  centage  by  the  price  he 
put  upon  each  article ;  but  it  was  the  serving  out  of  Utrht  weight  ^ 
and  short  measure  to  an  extent  scarcely  credible,  tlut  formed  bia  fl 
grand  source  of  enuilumenl.  " 

These  practices,  which  enabled  him  to  live  in  n  style  of  affluence 
far  beyond  his  pay,  and  gave  him  influence  over  the  native*,  could 
not,  he  was  aware,  be  carrie<l  on  long  while  I  was  in  charge  of  the 
depTit;  for  1  had  in  another  part  of  the  country  put  a  stop  to  «imi1ar 
proceedings,  and  reduced  the  expenses  of  tlie  establishment  nearly 
one  half. 

To  prevent  a  simitar  catastrophe.  Bo  Baboo  was  conscioua  that  my 
removal  was  necessary.     That  he  did  not  poison  me  I  attribute  ti^H 
the  incorruptibility  of  my  servants,  most  of  whom  were,  I  believe,^ 
attached  to  my  person.     I  had,  besides,  received  a  bint  that  I  mi^ht 
expect  an  attempt  of  tlic  sort  if  I  crossed  his  path,  andwu  extreme- 
ly careful   in  mv  diet;  eschewing,  with  a  religious  etrictnesf,  < 
Ties,  and  madc-<lishes  of  all  sorts. 

Wanting,  I  presume,  better  means,  he  fixed  upon  tlie  plan 
having  the  first  treasure  I  sent  for,  carried  off;  by  which  he  ho]> 
to  bring  me  into  disrepute  at  bead-quarters,  and  cause  me  the  l<>i.<« 
of  my  stafl'-appointment.  He  even  went  so  far  as  to  be  presrn:  at 
the  collector's  office,  and  see  the  rupees  made  over  to  the  guard,  that 
he  might  prompt  to  the  last  moment  the  actors  in  the  aecne  about 
to  be  performed. 

However  improbable  this  ill-told  tale  may  appear,  it  is,  neverth&< 
less,  an  account  of  an  actual  occurrence  thiit  took  place  in  the  year 
US-,  not  five  hundred  miles  from  C******a. 

But  it  is  not  ray  intention  to  accuse  the  authorities  of  haTing  wiU 
fully  overlooked  my  poor  endeavours:  it  is  by  no  means  improliable 
that  the  particulars  of  the  case  were  never  made  known  to  them-  Th« 
only  report  I  made  wa.s  to  the  superintendent  of  the  departmrnt| 
who,  I  tliink,  was  not  likely  to  say  more  in  my  favour  in  his  ItAt 
to  head-quarters  thitn  he  could  possibly  avoid. 

A  few  montlis  at\cr  the  event  above  related  I  quitted  India,  I  he 
for  ever.     But,  before  I  went  I   had  the  pajn  of  witnessing  the  eK 
pulsion  of  poor  Salamut  Ally  from  bis  situation  of  police  jemada 
lie  deservcil  a  better  fate. 


gii? 


vM. 


'-< 


y 


IW 


MASTIFF  LUBBERKIN. 
"  'Til  troe,  *iw  pUf ." 

MAFTfFF  Ldbbrrkin  wm  a  jnumfymnn  bftker,  —  a  brond-shoitU 
dcTCcl,  brnud-facwl,  yi-IIow-ltiiirfil  ninii ;  olio  of  those  N'fv;(;/-nioutlu'il 
gmtry  wlio  are  deeraetl  the  Jlotrrr  of  fralUntry  by  KJRk1'"P  tt'^ls. 
who  run  up  area  steps  for  their  daily  bread.  And  the  very  favour- 
bIiIc  rcrepLiun  he  universiiUy  met  with  renderetl  him  ainliitioiiH; 
Uid  wliat  witli  a  little  ca*h— the  U^ncies  of  dcrtii  men,  (as  the  stijier- 
vamerary  loave-i  charged,  but  not  delivered,  are  technically  temicd,) 
—  and  a  tolerable  creiHt,  he  was  cnablnl  to  assume  a  smart  appear- 
wacv  on  high-days  and  hulidayfl. 

l«oblHrrkin,  however,  was  nut  an  extravagant  man  ;  for  liiR  means 
wotild  not  allow  that,  whatever  his  inclination  raifjrht  prompt. 

Tliere  was  one  circumstance  uhich  proved  of  infinite  service  to 
hini  among  a  certain  clique  of  old  women  in  the  adjoining  parish, 
he  WM  very  punctual  in  his  attendance  at  a  place  of  "  wash-up,"  as 
m  noall  room  in  a  back  utreet  was  designated,  within  the  walU  of 
wtridl  a  ranting,  regenernletl  cobbler,  who  by  his  own  confe«isinn 
was  a  "  hawful  sinner,"  weekly  held  forth  to  a  chosen  few.  Here  he 
tooD  made  himself  conspicuoui  bv  hi»  loud  voice,  and  attracted  the 
aUrntifin  of  all  tluiM.>  who  regularly  "  sot  under  the  snme  minister  " 
by  hif  extreme  devotion.  Among  those  who  liberally  e(^>ntnl>uteil 
tAcir  mite  to  the  mipport  of  the  lifierentl  Jacob  Lnftt,  was  the 
Widow  CummiiiR,  the  relict  nf  a  cuKtom-hou4e  ufficer,  who  hnd  left 
bar  ft  imall  Indejiendence,  and  a  nlender  daughter,  bajitixed  Eliza- 
bttll,  who  in  her  own  right  enjoyed  the  interest  of  a  sum  oftwu 
thottsand  pounds,  and,  moreover,  had  the  principal  at  her  own  com- 
IORkL 

Thr  widow  was  on  ordinary  woman,  in  every  sense  of  the  word  ; 


MASTIFF   LUBBEREIN. 

va1|;ar,  and  illiterate,  but  exceedingly^  good-natured, — that  is  to  ny, 
easily  imposed  upon  by  appeftronces, —  the  prominent  feature  in  her 
character  being  indecision. 

Now  money  was  a  great  object  with  Lubberkin,  (few  roen.'iadeetl* 
had  less  principU;)  for,  like  the  greater  portion  of  journeymen 
bakers,  he  was  terribly  i«  need. 

He  wan  a  shrewd,  cunning  fellow,  and  so  "  pushing"  that,  had  be 
been  brought  up  to  the  bar,  instead  of  the  kneading.trough.  he 
would  proi>ably  nave  "  risen  "  like  his  dough,  and  become  master  of 
the  Rolls,  or  taken  his  seat  on  a  tvooiiack  instead  of  a  flour-sack. 
He  pOHsessed  both  ability  and  impudence  for  anything.  ■ 

"  iluw  many  a  Ruwer  »  born  to  blu^h  uiiseeu,  fl 

And  wa^te  Its  swe«tncss  on  the  desert  air." 

Lubberkin  soon  ascertained  the  exact  value  of  the  widow  and  her 
daughter,  and  lost  no  op|X)rtunity  of  thrusting  himself  in  their  way  ; 
and  one  evening,  favoured  by  n  refreshing  shower,  he  insisted  upon 
their  taking  his  umbrella,  and  politely  following  tliera  to  their  door, 
got  a  complete  soaking.  The  widow  was  overcome  by  his  peiHt 
xmns. — his  "  werry  purlite  behaviour,"  as  the  good  sou!  freely  trans- 
lated it, — and  invited  him  in,  which  he  of  course  modestly  declined, 
and  "could  not  possibly  think  of  intruding." 

At  the  very  next  meeting  Mrs.  Cummins  anxiously  inquired  after 
his  health,  being  "  werry  sure  he  must  ha'  cotched  cohl."  And  even 
her  daughter  ventured  so  far  as  to  ^'hopc  he  had  not." 

He  assured  them  he  felt  no  ill  efTecta  from  his  drenching,  and  was 
on  the  point  of  informing  the  ladles  th»t  he  was  *' hard  as  a  hrtck, 
and  right  as  a  trivet/'  (his  accustomed  phrase,)  but  his  watchful 
prudence  curbed  in  his  "  vulgar  tongue,"  although  the  blood  man- 
tlml  in  his  brftad  checks  with  the  confusion  consequent  upon  his  con- 
sciouHiiess  of  luiving  narrowly  escaped  committing  hinuelf ;  which, 
being  remarked  by  both  the  ladies,  was  considerately  placed  to  the 
credit  of  his  extreme  diffidence.  Having  thus  happily  broken  the 
thin  ice,  like  a  floundering  dog  in  the  same  predicautentj  Lubberkin 
went  on  swimmingly. 

The  single-hearted,  simple  minded  Mrs.  Cumminti  was  delighted 
with  him,  and  confessed  "  the  more  she  knowed  on  the  young  man, 
the  better  she  liked  him,"  and  finally  wound  up  her  long  eulogiuin 
upon  his  manners  (laying,  by  the  bye,  great  stress  upon  his  "  fine 
linen  " — that  woman's  pride, — which  was  one  of  "  a  pair  of  dickeya 
and  collars  "  purchased  for  the  venture,)  by  affirming  that  he  was 
'*  the  man  for  her  money." 

Elixabeih,  who  had  never  received  an  offer,  felt  at  fint  f1att«red 
by  the  attentions  of  a  suitor,  especially  as  he  had  received  the  un- 
qualified approbation  of  her  foolish  mother. 

Lubberkin  soon  became  a  constant  guest  at  tlie  house,  and,  really, 
if  he  had  had  no  other  inducement  in  the  pursuit  than  o  good  cup- 
board, he  must  have  been  amply  satisfied,  for  p