Sir Gilbert assumed to admiration a look of astonishment, and, after some incoherent exclamations, paused awhile and said, "Then is Richard of Gloucester the cause of this insult to Curborough!None other would have dared to impeach Sir Oliver Babington. As for me, I am safe these woody retreats, and the numerous and powerful friends who are even now organizing the overthrow of the voluptuous Edward, are bulwarks I can surely trust. I purpose a speedy return, however, to Calais, where the garrison is entirely devoted to me; and our plans once organised, Brittany, nay, France himself, will combine to make our cause triumphant. I only grieved that the sacred privacy of Curborough should be invaded." "Chafe not thyself on that score," replied the monk; "nor thou, brother, look so angrily on those walls, which for this night must be thy lodging;nor start, as if Curborough needed thy single sword to its defence; well do I know that the secresy of this expedition will secure thine house from violence." "I fear not for Curborough," said Sir Oliver, then first breaking silence, "but the papers "Are all safely bestowed," rejoined the monk, keeping his eye fixed on Vaucler, who almost writhed beneath it. "Then, indeed, I may defy them," said the knight, with kindling spirits, "as for the flight of Lady Anne, what hath it to do with the honour of mine house? So help me St. Katherine, as I know not ought of the errant damsel! I trust a knight may be dissatisfied with a mercenary sovereign without incur ring the imputation of a kidnapper!" Here the knight filled a goblet of claret, and passing it to Vaucler, proposed "Success to the gallant Earl of Oxford and our allies in Cornwall; and now brother, we will ask no better counsellor than thy grape of Bourdeaux for to-night. With the dawn we will return to Curborough, and see what welcome these unbidden visitants have found in the absence of its lord!" Here we must pass from the cell at Chadstow to the spacious mansion of Pool-house, situated about the middle of the straggling street, or rather village, extending along the borders of the large sheet of water already mentioned, and leading to the church of Chadstow. The fair refugees had been hospitably received by the widow of Master Richard Dyott, a gentleman of no mean name in those parts, and after partaking of some refreshments, mingled with anxious surmises as to the cause of their present situation, repaired to their chambers. Barbara Somerville had requested that her woman might occupy the same apartment with herself, which was situated in a lofty square turret with balcony and bartizan, rising high over the gables and chimnies of the house. The night soon passed, and when the first tints of dawn began to streak the sky, the air was tranquil and even mild, every vestige of the late tempest having disappeared. At this hour a female figure, whose clustering tresses had escaped from beneath a thick kerchief, was seen seated in the massy and spacious balcony, her arm supporting her cheek on its carved balustrade, her whole attitude and appearance denoting the utmost dejection, while her eye wandered over the lordly mansions of the Lombard merchants in the adjacent street, or turned mechanically to the spires, woods, and waters of the city, though it was evident her inward gaze marked them not. The camp of night was breaking up, the heavens still hung with sable pall, except where the east uncurtained a realm of calm but gorgeous coloured light, checquered from the sober gray and pallid white to the bright green and orange-tinted red. The city herself, thus over-canopied, stood like some princess of fairy lore awakening from enchanted sleep; her massy towers, superbly black, were relieved to their very pinnacles against the kindling sky, or stood huddled in the gloom like a congregation of misty phantoms; the lake lay white and livid in its terraced borders of garden and orchard; the trees swayed heavily to the sighs of the receding night-gusts, while in the shadowed streets, a solitary footfall, as though the awakening city whispered, was occasionally heard from some early straggler, who turned up his face from the darkness in which his feet stumbled, to the fiery pageantry which began to streak the sky. The female at length broke out into this half-whispered soliloquy "Was ever lady so distressed as I ? the murder of my princely lord,-the detested addresses of Gloucester,-and the scarcely less loathed friendship of his brother, which I choose as the least evil, are not enough, it seems, for that wretched she who might once have looked to the throne of England. This horrible Vaucler! to avoid whom I would fly to the very arms of Richard himself this Vaucler, who dared to in sult me with his love-he, too, comes to persecute me! If that villain once get me within his grasp, adieu hope, happiness, honour!-but no! the widow of Edward, and the Princess-(let them deny my title as they may) the Princess of Wales hath a resource against that!" The unhappy lady shuddered as she spoke the last sentence with raised tones, when a manly but subdued voice was heard from below "Now St. Chad be praised! This is more than I hoped!" The princess looked down into the still dusky court, but her eyes, dazzled by the eastern glare, only served her to discover a muffled form of unusual height. Descend, lady," he continued, "to the lattice in the hall; we may not parley here." "And who art thou that thus stealest upon the sorrows which have driven me from a fevered couch to breathe them in the ear of heaven?" "One who never intruded on the unhappy, if he could not administer counsel," responded the deep tones of Father Paul. The princess immediately quitted the balcony, and with noiseless steps passing through the chamber where Barbara lay in profound repose, descended the large and gloomy staircase into the hall, and found the priest already at the lattice. "Listen, lady, for I may not tarry! They you wot of have departed from Chadstow! For Curborough and its inmates there is nothing immediately to dread; but tell the Lady of Whichnover that noon must not find you in or near Litchfield-leave me to assign some cause for your departure, and speed to the hilly towers of the Somervilles. Once there, you may be safe; but from this snake Vaucler, both you and we have that to dread which will demand all your wisdom to avert." With these words the priest, disappeared in the distant glooms of the street. The day was fully advanced ere the Lady Babington and she of Whichnover arose from heavy slumbers. The Lady Anne, habited as a servant, while attiring, in her assumed character, the beautiful Barbara, betrayed so much agitation, that she hastily asked "what new alarm had occurred?" "Alas, lady," said the Princess, "why-why did you venture with me to Curborough ?" "Because," replied Barbara, with a compassionate respect very different from her usual frank and buoyant manner, "because the signal services of Sir Oliver to the king, and my lady's close connection with the court, seemed to render it the last place where your refuge would be suspected." "But our hosts themselves-" "Do not dream that your highness is other than you appear-a humble menial. The purport of this strange mission to Curborough is as much a mystery to myself!" "Alas, lady, where that dreadful Vaucler shows his face, what can it forbode but evil to my safety?"—here the hapless Princess gave way to a passion of tears. "Oh, Mark, Mark!" exclaimed Barbara, in great distress," my faithful, my beloved! wherefore dost thou tarry at court?-alas me! thou canst not see our peril!" "I have this morning," said the princess, "conversed with Father Paul; he talks (as well he may) of peril from Sir Gilbert Vaucler: in short, lady, as soon as courtesy will permit, we must leave Litchfield." "It will be wisely done, even though suspicion may be incurred. To Whichnover Vaucler will not dare to come. See that the horses await us eastward of the great pool: the bye-roads will secure us from notice, and if my father's towers and walls be not high enough, nor the moat wide enough, they shall at least have all the advantage of my numerous armed vassals, and the poor skill of one who knows how to defend, in the halls of her ancestors, her whom Mark Babington hath committed to the keeping of a Somerville!" "And Lady Babington ?" "She must not know of our departure, that is, if, without her privacy, we can make the necessary acknowledgment to the Dame Dyott for her hospitality. And now, dear lady, I leave you be cautious in the arrangements-put back your thick tresses, and renew those stains on your cheek and brow. I will join you by the lane leading south from St. Chad's." (To be continued.) LETTER READING. Huet, bishop of Avranches, in his writings, has the following remark:"I never read letters in the evening, before going to bed, or in the afternoon, before dinner. Letters generally contain more bad news than good; and in reading them, we call up subjects of inquietude, which disturb our repasts and our repose. 270 The Nate Book. A HINDU MIRACLE. The following miraculous tale is related in the Delhi Ukbar:-At Gotah, a Brahmin murdered a child (of four years of age) of one of the inhabitants of that place, for the sake of jewels which were on the child's body; the father accidentally found the murderer in the act of killing the child, but as he was of Brahmin caste, was permitted to fly from the city. The wretched father, after burying the child, came home, and did not even mention the subject to bis wife. A few hours after, two mendicants came to his house, and asked something to eat; food was accordingly prepared and set before them. They then asked the man where his child was; to which he did not give a direct reply, but the hermits refused to eat any thing unless given to them by the hands of that child: the conversation ran so high, that it attracted the attention of the good wife; she upbraided her husband for not complying with the Fakeers' request, when he told her to go and bring the child, if she can find him. She accordingly went out, calling loud the child by name, when the two sages desired the husband not to sit there, but to go and look after his wife. The man did so, and to his great joy, found the mother returning home with the child. They then hastened towards the house; but found no trace of the two Fakeers, who disappeared on the man's leaving the house. They however fell upon their knees, and praised God for the mercy which was shown to them. Asiatic Jour. RECIPE FOR COMPOSING A MODERN Take five hundred protestations, half as many vows, three thousand lies, fifty pounds weight of deceit, an equal quantity of nonsense, and treble the whole of flattery; mix all these ingredients up together, and add thereto half a scruple of sincerity, sweetening it often with some or all of the following phrases, Angel, Goddess, Charmer, Honey, and the like. When it is flavoured to your taste, take as much of it as you think proper, fold it up in gilt paper, seal it with the impression of a flaming heart full of wounds; let it be carefully delivered, and it is irresistible. Probatum est sæpissime. G. K. Notices of New Books. History of Dover and of Dover Castle. "This noble wreck, in ruinous perfection." Our early writers emphatically term this feudal fortalice "Clavis et Repagulum totius regni." It is reported when the Dauphin of France, during the imbecile reign of John, invaded the kingdom, that the French monarch inquired where his son was, and on being answered at Stamford-"What!" said he, “has he not taken Dover Castle?" The reply was in the negative. "Then by the arm of St. James," exclaimed the king, "my son has not a foot in England." Our author, as may be supposed, devotes a considerable portion of his pages to this period. He has arranged his matter chronologically and given a good index-thus affording every facility for reference. As a specimen of his ge neral style, we select the following passage, which throws some light upon an interesting page in English history. "Suffolk Tower, one of the Saxon portions of the Castle," says our anthor, 66 was formerly a recess in the wall, until it was converted into a stately mansion, by Edward the Fourth, for his brother-in-law, the Duke of Suffolk. It was the father of this duke who, being accused of treason, and endeavouring to depart the kingdom, was beheaded, by a common seaman, in Dover roads. After a sham trial, they obliged him to lay his head over the side of the vessel, and, with a rusty sword, severed it from his body, which was afterwards brought on shore, and laid on the sand. Report says that his head was placed on a pole near it. The body was taken to the collegiate church of Wingfield, in Suffolk, and interred in the chancel, but it appears to have remained uncertain what became of the head. Some few years since, in sinking ground for a cellar, near the Antwerp Inn, a head was found, enclosed in a stone receptacle. As this ground formerly belonged to Saint Martin's church, it was conjectured that this was the duke's head, and that it was buried here." The Castle, although proudly arrogating to itself the epithet impregnable, was, we find, taken by a handful of men, during the struggles in the time of Charles I. The event is narrated as follows: "In the year 1642, on the 21st of August, the castle was surprised and taken, and wrested from its lawful sovereign, by a merchant of Dover, whose name was Blake. He, with only ten of his townsmen, all determined republicans, adventured to scale the lofty cliff fronting the sea, where no danger could be apprehended by the garrison. About midnight they began the daring enterprize, each armed with a loaded musket, and furnished with ropes and scaling ladders; while some of their companions lay in ambush at the castle gates. On reaching the summit of the cliff, they proceeded to the walls of the Saxon fortress, which they also scaled without discovery, and secured the guard. The porters refused to deliver up the keys; but a threat of instant death obtained compliance, and the gates were thrown open. These latter operations alarmed the garrison. Surrounding darkness concealed the number of their oppo It has been since discovered that this ground belonged to St. Peter's Church, instead of St. Martin's. The Doke was beheaded by Nicholas Towers in the year 1450. The scull, when found, was nearly perfect, the jaws and teeth being entire; but after it had been exposed a short time to the air it crumbled to dust. The chalk receptacle was afterwards deposited in the wall. nents; and finding the gates open, they suspected treachery, or that a considerable force had taken possession of the castle. Under these apprehensions they either surrendered, or fled with precipitance from the fortress, and the barriers were closed after them. The Earl of Warwick was then at Canterbury, to whom Blake dispatched an account of his success, and an armed force was sent to his assistance. Thus secured, the parliamentarians kept possession of it during the remainder of that unhappy contest.-The loyalists of Kent, lamenting the loss of this fortress, raised forces to assemble on Barham downs, and they marched to the coast under the command of the Colonels Hatton and Hammond. After reducing the castles of Sandown, Deal and Walmer, and making themselves masters of the forts and bulwarks in the neighbourhood, they cast up works on the north-west side of Dover castle. Here they could level their cannon directly against the walls, and 500 balls were fired without doing any material injury. Col. Rich was sent by the parliament, with a superior force, to raise the siege, and the loyalists were obliged to retire with precipitation, and to leave their stores and artillery behind them." With the above extracts we close our remarks upon this interesting work, and purpose occasionally enriching our columns with a stray leaf from its pages. We observe by the preface that the volume is merely the precursor of a larger performance. Mr. B. seems well fitted to the task, and we trust his labours will prove satisfactory. Anecdotiana. BEAR AND BIRDS. Mr. Bear being at a public dinner, at Hammersmith, two gentlemen of the name of Bird being in the company, after the cloth was removed, Mr. Bear, who was a good singer, was called on to oblige the company with a song: he immediately arose, and said, "Gentlemen, your conduct on this occasion is so highly improper, that I cannot help noticing it." "For why!" said the gentlemen. "That you should call on a Bear to sing, when you have two Birds in the company." ON ONE THRICE A WIDOWER. Youth, manhood, age, have wants you must confess, Three wives I've had, and could n't do with less: The first for love, the second for her purse, Diary and Chronology. Tuesday, October 12. Sun rises 33m after 6-sets 26m after 5. October 12, 1822.-Expired William Angus, a landscape engraver of much ability; he was a pupil of the late William Walker, who was eminent for his productions in that line. One of his principal works is his collection of " Views of the Seats of the Nobility and Gentry." Wednesday, October 13. Translation of K. Edward the Confessor.-High Water 11h 59m Morn-0h 0m Aftern This virtuous monarch was the youngest son of King Ethelred, but as all his elder brothers were either dead, or had fled away, he succeeded to the crown of England in the year 1042. He collected all the most useful laws made by the Saxon and Danish kings. The additional title of Confessor was probably given him by the Pope for settling what was then called Rome Scot, but now better known by the name of Peter's Pence. Thursday, October 14. St. Donation, Bishop and Confessor, d. ▲ D. 349.—Sun rises 37m after 6-sets 22m after 5. October 14, 1806.-On this day was fought the severe battle of Jena, when the Prussian army, consisting of 150,000 men, were attacked and defeated by the French at Auerstadt; the loss of the Prussians in this conflict is recorded to have been in killed and wounded upwards of 20,000; and between 30 and 40,000 were made prisoners. The Duke of Brunswick received a mortal wound in this conflict. Friday, October 15. St. Hospicius. Anchoret, A.D_550. October 15, 1402.-Anniversary of the death of the ancient English poet, John Gower, to whom a high place is usually assigned in the poetical history of our country: he is supposed to have been born before Chaucer, though he survived him only two years. Lelaud informs us, that Gower was of the Knightly Order, (an opinion confirmed by Sir John Fortescue), and born in Yorkshire; and that he was a lawyer by profession, and laboured much in poetry, and was the first polisher of his own country language, which, before his time, lay uncultivated, and almost quite rade; he wrote many things in English, not only in verse, but also in prose, which were read with pleasure by the learned men even in his time. He flourished in the reign of Richard II., to whom he dedicated his works, and when he was blind, he presented to him his song in Praise of Peace. We are led to believe that our poet was both wealthy and munificent, for history records that he contributed largely to the rebuilding of the conventual church of St. Mary Overie, in Southwark, where his very curious tomb still remains. Chaucer, his friend, esteemed his judgment so highly, that he used to submit his labours to him for correction, and in estimating the character of his acquaintance, calls him "the moral Gower," an epithet he was deserving of, for in his works abound good sense and benevolent precepts, impressively enforced and illustrated by a variety of learning. Saturday, October 16. St. Mummolin, Bishop of Noyon, d. A.D. 665 - New Moon, 31m after 7 Morn October 16, 156 -Died at Arnheim, of a wound received at the battle of Zutphen, the galJant Sir Philip Sidney. This amiable young man had been equally the delight of Elizabeth's court and army, as his person and endowments were only equalled by his valour and humanity. After his thigh-bone had been shattered by a musket-shot, in the agony of his wound be called for water. Some was brought to him, but, as he was lifting it to his lips, the ghastly looks of a dying soldier struck his eye. Take this," said he, holding the water to him," thy necessity is yet greater than mine." He died with the resignation of a saint; and so general was the grief for his loss, that it was deemed a sin to appear gaily apparelled at court for several months after. Elizabeth lamented his death, and the Scottish James wrote an epitaph for him: his remains were interred in St. Paul's Cathedral with great funeral pomp. Lord Brook, speaking of Sidney, the patron of the unfortunate author of the Faerie Queen, says of him, " that his end was not writing, even while he wrote; nor his knowledge moulded for tables or schools; but both his wit and understanding bent upon his heart to make himself and others, not in words or opinion, but in life and action, good and great." Sunday, October 17. NINETEENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. Lesson for the Day -3 chapter Daniel, morning-6 chapter Daniel, Even. Our saint was daughter to Blendin Boson and St. Salaberna, who tounded the abbey of St. John the Baptist at Laon, which, in 1223, was given to, and is still retained by, the Benedic tine monks. In the same town are several other great abbies October 17, 941.-Died at Gloucester, without issue, after a reign of fifteen years, the Saxon monarch, King Athelstan, (grandson of Alfred the Great), beloved by his subjects, and dreaded by the foes of England. A translation of the Bible into the Saxon tongue, performed under his patronage, does honor to his love of literature, while his regard for commerce may be presumed from a generous law whereby a merchant, who has performed two long voyages, is allowed rank as a thane or noble. This wise prince received many marks of esteem from various European princes, and particularly from Harold King of Norway, who sent him " a splendid vessel with sails of purple silk, a gilt stern, and rows of glittering shields around her deck." Monday, October 18. St. Luke.-High Water 45m after 2 Morning-0m after 3 Afternoon. The evangelist was born at Antioch, in Syria, a place celebrated for the study of the liberal arts. The notion that he was a painter has long been discountenanced. Dr. Lardner thinks that he might have been by profession a physician, as the expression, "beloved physician," Col, iv, seems to intimate. St. Luke died at the great age of 84 years, .A.D 63. In our next, R. Jarman's Paper on "The Beautiful,” and “ Comments of a Reader," No. 2. |