Crawfordsville Review, Crawfordsville, Montgomery County, 6 June 1857 — Page 1

PbilTICAL HIAWATHA.

-Mi»tar,

Printer,can you.tell.tis, -••.-j-jj-sd

T«ll u» something in your papery In jronrBordepBnIHan paper,.' nr tj „'1AT Your old-fashioned '^Lpoo'Vpaper, -'Whore arc allthose freedom shriekeral ..p 'tThose who shrieked so last "November /,

Shriolc'd for Freedom and for Fremont

81iriek'd solotid for Northern vc ngoanco,^ .5 Yjn

tjj0

•jr.

jjcads of Pierec imd Douglas,

0'n

'#tir Deiiriocratie brethren,

:v -"North nnd South who ^rould not Vote forj1 TTio great lord of Mariposa,

frW, the Abolitionist Morton?

(.'"Gabby

bib "^On the virgin soil of Kansas!

'3 Whero aro all the correspondent, o«of thcold drab coatodrGroeloy? St 3."T Bnmpson Houston and Jim Wilson?

:t-

They vrho penned such: tales of horror -m ji# a viTales of Rapine, rape and murder «*. [ij£!'-Tak».which makothe life bloodeurdle,3 »r (t- j|]n tho souls of tbsm who b'lieve them? jwfJbatVbceome o( 'bleeding JCaiiRasl'j

Jfi.

f»

Filkins and black Horner?

,Whore the blcedinjr bones of Martyrs?

'•'"•if ,/.Martyrs sent by Parson Beechcr, \i'"Armed with plstola and Sharp's.riflj^ :/j 'ji»''^vi^Pcnt to kill Ihc Border Huflinns ?•.

Sent to Btir up strife and discord, "T, 'Gainst tlie laws art Constitution?, ,Cl 'where arc now.the chains and fetters', ton Liii^n(i p.pat balls which woroto punish'

All who dared to speak of freedom',!-

:'.i:ti.\VheTo is tlio notorious Beecher Tu-a-yi X" Vthcro Jim Lano, tho doughty hero! eC. '.r•Where's the monoy, where'e the-money?! .*s .usCcax'd by falsehoods, from tho iockoto^

Of tho poor deluded, people j-: jl Who wcro mov'd by tales fictitious,* ,-fy Talcs of ruff'ring aud privation,' .,/jS ,{J *irf

Told by selfish, base impostors Thus,to part with hoarded trcjs0ures .,(J^ Hoping to assist thp ncodyf

"'All is'vanish'd: Pe.ico nnd quiet Reign supreme, whore all was dircord!. Few are left who shriek for Fromont Few who vent their curse and hatred On the heads of Pioreo and old Buck Thongh Fremont has been defeated,'(! 3 And the sng'iof Wheatland chosen.! !••!.'

ff Then loud

lot's sound tboclnrion!.

fi Proud on

high

•••••'jjiS.'j, Dcniocrntft

our bannors waving.nof^fli'

will sliield

And

the Union, 7&ryj

our-glorioiw

Constitution aoirrl

From tho 'traitor's* touch

'forever!'

mnVifo*

-A LEGEND OF POEEMARK

iia" T"

BV LOi lSA

STUAUT COSTELLO.

On the southern bank of the Trent, in "si "Tine, liealfliy, open ami airy sput, "pocu^.ltarly pleasant, wholesome ami eligible," "btamls •Foroniark, the seat of the ancostors -of Sir Francis liurdett for many .generations for the family is one of the oldest in .» 'A-rvi -'.-tv,

J^ngiantl. r. i. It is Jianth-omQi graml, awl agrooable "place, ami some of the trees which surround lit have "outlived the eagle there is in :pra-licul.tr, along .socluded walk, l)cty-qen -. jvo roVs of aged, oaks, qui to.urn vulcd in tits kind another grove of magnificent trees, •formerly of much greater extent, Druidicril ^ih their aiitifjuity, i.^ a great ornaiiiejit^to thc grounds. .,.

The gamo is hero, in inAuito abundance, and particularly fincVffnd'it would be more 'plcn'tiful but for the" lenity which has long jcncouragcd poachers. It is beautiful to .sec the haros coursing ftlong the lawns, jclose to the windows, and the glittering and graceful pheasants tamely pcrchcd on 'the. balustrades of the tfcVraces. Every ^thin^ lias'.a calm, happy, contented, aml'sequost«rcd aspect, almost monastic but it ,was not in this spot, but 'in "Warwickshire,

4that.the

1fci-lVo

twomen,

&ook care of the ruins, and they used\to •hear andsee^ strange' things-^chains* rattling, and" screams and groans'^that iyerp

veil depending from her singular shaped headdress lier dress ig. extremely rich,' all vejvet, silk, embroidery an4 precious stones. There are two other, portrait of her, in different costames:: sone-represents her in an undres^,' Obcnpied in winding her long rich liair' round'a reel: by her scissors being: placed ion the'tabic beside hex .coinb,. it appears as |f she were about: to cut off a.long lock. There isra sweet tenderness in her eyes which tells that her thoughts are far away, fixed oh the person/ perhaps, fpr whom,she is preparing this precious rcmern brance: round her white throat she wears a very slender black chain, to which is fastened a little cornelian ring, and the ends of the chain ,fall into her boddicc, as if they sustained 3ome other rclic, which is hidden in her bosom.

Tlie third'portrait, represents her, pale, worn and sad-lookfng—her (Tress disorder cd, and her hand resting on a skull. Tjiere is something very solemn about this :la6t picture, and it scdnis to speak of a melancholy change,in the person represented!

Opposite thijs frowns, from the wall,.a bearded man, .in a half-military costume, whose looks arc peculiarly severe, and tlierc is a wildness and fierceness in his C3'es, which makes the beholder shudder: he has one hand qu the hilt of his sword, which he grasps as if in anger, and in the other holds an open-letter. This was Sir Hugo De Burdett, lord of Loscby, and the lady was his wife, Johanne." •V"'

They were married at a very early age, not, as generally happened at that time, united by relations from mere cxpcdicncy, but they had chosen each other and their mutual love was so remarkable, both before and after their marriage, that they were cited and admired by all and more than once tlie haughty heiress of Aquitainc would remark to her volatile husband, Henry II., "that there were few couplcs in his dominions who set so-good an example as Sir Hugo and his Johanne." It would indeed have been difficult not to show tenderness to so charming a creature as Johanne was.. The mind shone out in the bright aoit violef: eyes, for which she was celebrated, as well as for her peculiarly long-and fine hair, which reached to the ^ground, in undulating waves, .and would almost cover Iter as she stood. Sir Hugo used to take a plca-uro in beholding her beautiful tresses spread at their full length, and lie always wore in his. helmet one.of her curling locks at every till and tournament, where he-was sure, to'distinguish himself

Higher irp'in l")crbyslii£e', not far from the -great cavern,of the. Peak, lived the ]jaixu of JJovvill, who win a distant connection of Sir Huco, and had been his enrly conqlhuion. I'Tn h'ri'd riot married himself, and the Lady Johanne, was aware tl^at her coldncss and preference for, him who became her husband, was the cause of his living single. Several years had pass'cd since lvcr marriage, and they had Hot met, jvheh on a sudden, the baron began tp.niake •them visits, and Sir Hugo, who was attached: to him,i occasionally- returned them, somotimc^'hlonc'and 'soirictinVbs'^ accompanied, bv his wife. This intercourse: had

Priory of Aiicfite was founded by j.Cflnlinuett some,..time, when Johanne objnii aneient.possessor'of this estate,''in'expi- served a1 change in her husband's maimer: 'ation of a" crime,. thejiart.iculars of '.which & gloom seemed to take possession of him, |t)us legend recounts. Nor was it at- the jftnd'Ws'conve^ on'the •present-house 'that lie resided, but'in one j. most serious subjects in particular he. spoke •-'much more: ancient situated iu "h'retired fpi. .(he glorious:caus,c oi Qhristianity, which spot, no\v:embo:-oiiie.d.in a thick grove of| Uelondod.in-.thc. Jloly Land: by: tho

Joak and beech, and iu the .vicinity' of.tfmo. Ictiightb of Rurope,' and sighed' heavily as ..woods. The:spot ij called ICnowle liiUs rKfc"cbireltide^bVNnsl«fr^th'at*lie had becii and all that remains of the old btiildin^'is |t?»ong)i.t'' worthy to 'add tKe weight of, his MioW" forriicd into a^plen^tire'-lioiise,' bb^oi-c |arm to.thc4ioiy .fight.'*, ^whicli is a beautiful ,la\vn,• where, the peas- j'' Johanne listened with fear ami trembling auts in,:the neighborhoodjire aUowod. oeca-jfcft- sho was well awpre how many of the "^ionally to keep j-evel/ .and dance to 'the Vound of gny musity- intikiiig tlie wood!? re-

*80*R

r\'JL -iliavc ^often," said,«n". qld. m{U},^^io ifihows tho place, "lingered h«re wh.en all iwere gone and voioc after voice had died away iu distance, and enjoyed the perfect ^solitude of tliis spot,t wliere usually riot a. ,aourtd is heard but. the wind amongst ,thc told trees and the! rustle of tho ivy waviug ito aud fro along the anciont' wall, where 'you eee iliat strange face!ca'rved that seeihs as if it,was losing over tbc Ijattl6mcii't5s, •. watchiug jfhat 13 goxug on.^jjSome say, on imoonlight nights the whole figure has been •seen, and it looks like a knight in armor:' it wiVh a stAtelyrVstop,' etll round this ^gre^n, wlic"rc once stood, a" towp^ .injwiiich great criqie i# ejud to have been committed,! audit pauses at -the1 little low doorway you see there, utters a deep sigb\ and vanishes. ITnyseir^cver~saw any tiling 5f the kind, but there were'tw6 vei-y old

iuost gallant knights'of "the tiVuejlvqd. fjuittcil their .fami] ies and their country tp join tlie "'standard bf-Gcrur do Lion beyond the -sfeas. Nevertheless she hoped that siich a notion was far from Sir Hugo's mind, and i$hc ^redoubled her efforts to please aud charm him, and succeeded so well, ,that several months elapsed and his spirits revived, and lie ceased to speak of the deeds, of the Crusaders. All,this time the Baron! of Boy vill had uo.t visited them and sbe sawfphunly, that to him she owed the fears fclic -had' entertained of losing him 'she so "much loved. Her former coldness toward con§cg)ientl^ increased, and aiip began ,to,7loqk upon him with positiyo dislike, not teoiicoaling from Sir Hugo the fact that he was displeasing to her:'-He Vas not slow to discover this on his part, and hh 'scldoih

who lived here onccj together, and

One Of the old xj-omen'. dicdj

Jaitid

d8ea,.to ocane^baek .tp tlu^other,s, and^^ll .wonderful 8e«ret6 :.eo: she said:' but she Went, too,7 and *inee her time I don't knoF

IbWit is, but'nothing out of the Amnion Jvct.hajip^is f4 0 Thei ai a great many carious and intoroting family pictures- in Foreniark Jlouse, "®°ng8k others' the portrait ofca very %eautiftxl lady. is particAlkrlV'* attnifitive, -both froin i1— ^he'wear^ iiw eax|y^g{jod,

cov®r®(l

with jewels, a long^tranftparont

..: *.• ?•-.

This-jriacueas-a^&cquaat-guest at the monastery of Black* Canons,: at ReptOiipnot far from Fwemark, 'And Sir^Hugtf Would 'often iii Ws rides'stop, at'ISe cbh^entr^ate ^nd"con.verscT father Ber^^^] w^P' ggner^diy, .fi^^humiUtyivSiU on, a stone ithe- eitrancei From him he heard won4rouB arid exciting st&ries' of th^ warfare rose ahd

I ought to beJ strmng fede^m. tlie^H'oly Sepulchre,, from the: JPagan. jeRarefy Boy-' vill may be right-r=therer must be sorcery, at work to keep me here wl{eft:nvt!ig:prc£en'cc' of JoHantnc I' have no power: to le her, nor can bear, tie thoughts pf «eparatipn: it is onljr. in absenee I ^eel, free to think-—I will consult the holy-father).:land be guided by-his'advice!-" •r.ci-Sf-'

He'did so," and the frfar, -whose great object was to gain proselytes, to'the cause, lost, no advantage he represented the sin,of his remaining supine in his own castle, and as he found he dare not tell his lady of the resolution he at length toot1'Of leaving her, he counseled his, doing so secretly.'

Accordingly, the friar 'gave him a^leeping potion to administer to Johawne,' which would secure her from 'discovering his absence too quickly, and allow liim to take possession of along lock .of her ..beautiful' hair, for which-he dared-not askher, for fear of exciting her suspicion's She slepttherefore soundly on tlie 'nig]jt

,'wTien

Sir

Hugo rose from her side, ^ut thevtre)i^from her head, and fastening round bei- throat a little chain, to the centre of which was at-, tached a small cornelian ring with the letters of his name engraven thereon, iuu^a heart at the end of the chain, he embraced her tenderly, and taking one long, sad look at her unconscious form, departed froui his castle. -'rf*: "When Johanne awoke"£he next morning, the sun had no light for her, she missed her husband, she perceived the chain round her ncck, and the truth was rcvenlod to her at once. She examined with' terrified eagerness, his parting gift, and on the golden heart she read the words "Five Years."

The, first thought was to-hasten to the convent, at Repton, where, having entreated to sec the abbess, wh'o was the superior of the society of both male and female recluses, she boggcd.hcr to coimscl her what to do.. "Daughter," said tho abbess, "be content it is the will of Heaven that your Iream of worldly happiness should end.— Your husband has,chosen a better part, he has gone, to-light for. the holy cause, accompanicd by his friend, the Baron of Boy-vill, and guided by the pious Father Bernard. Grb home and pray. In five years he will return." ....

Sad.and lonely were now the hours pas-

scd in her mournful home 'by the-'desolate Johanne. and tlvouV she strove to oTcy tlie

coir.mands of tho abbess, shu found- it liari.1 to banish .^ogrefc fr.oin her mind, and:to resign- herself-.to-'her fat c.icMmfr Io n^sf.

Those tresses wliich her belQvefl'lnis^a'rid had i?o\a'dinircd, a'nd of wijicli slie.naw^had lost her pride, she resolved ^tp dedicate .t-o i-lic Virgin, toge'thei-'.with her :prayers' for his safety and Occupied hoi- whole'time in embroidering a magnificent alfiir-cloth' for the shrine qf ouj- Lady, of Hep-ton, in which she interwove flowers and.fruits, .and.birds anu insects, all formed of her own hair, mingled with gold and silverthread. She Avourid it off on fjgolderi. reel foi' her use, and' cut it.,'with her golden..scissors every morinng when she. rose and every day she kisscd-tlie,little: cornelian ring which was pendant from her chain, and fead the sad words 'on: her 'hc^rk''"'^^ Years'.""

:raise'd

-v

in|rt^jiedj on their privacy,, although pc

9c-

pasionally sent messages,to iler lord: by ji taendicant friar, iwho traveled the- conn try, nnd had "been to Syria, fifotn whence'he brougiii tHSt^lie wift ^l(»niQdj9y piq^iuTcTCry par^t' of England. .twio-tsis sijr?

great dccdsuoLbis tiillbrenio arms. 'And: I," he would refloqt^ 'liun^^a^ting my-ywith, •and allowing •myi^wqrd-^ir^tinidleBjEss, charmed by tho, bcauAy- of ^woman, ~w4en

Three of the,fiye.years had passed, when her solitude was.bxokcn by the arrival of a palmer from the plain's of Syria", in whom she recognieed leather Bernard from him slic learnt, tbal^her lijis^and waa a.prisoner to'the inful,els, and for his. ransom was de- Fqremark none of liis douiesfi.es

(the

his visor, she perceived him

'ttf'fecMnd other than the Baron of "Boy vill.'r /The tidings that he brought were sad indeed ie related, fliat-the money she, h^d sc$fc by the friar had-been paid th'O

ipa-

gan chief who held Sir Hugo inucaptivity, Afid that the prisoner had b'cen^TniK:^' rt^-r 'ffc'ai'e^ butT!d .^e^th Jn pri^n, and

:'so..n:estfEred^tQ

.-hj$

friends^-, -r-•**.-: j.-f .nrcob 0C3

iJoEanne^s Agonies of grief Were,5sogr&kt on hearing this fearful announcement that her life was for. somq time -in-d^^er, and' it was long before she recoved to consciousness of her unhappy^position./" It'was then t|i|,t?sh|.^cnt thj^j, she .was njq(4opgqr misitre^q^/Forpinark for, a? her hu^band^iad diedlwithoutheirs, the.e8tatfl8 devolved on the Baron of Boyvill. But this "was nbth-

ediief,%for*he. hesitated not to- diselose his

alt&chrn'ent "and ^desire her hand, wfien he* offered her all thii possesions .whieh she would otherwise forfeit: «.vv lk -This proposal, she would sby. no means listen to, btit profeksed-her" intentieri of entering'the Pripi^oE.. Eep^on, there, to

rend

h'cr day's in seclusion sne soon, however, found that the baron was resolntcj^nd did not intend to permit her to leave the castle 'in fact, was detejrniincd'to .make her his wife with or jvjtliodt her consent.

Unable to help herself, she had nothing in her power but to dissimulate^ and' at length was forced to agr6'cV that when the five, years of her husband's absence were expired, she would .become his bride, on condition that he did not molest-her till that time. To this he apparently agreed,* but, in the meantime, she" was securely guarded.in a high tower, which looked, over, the vale, where no access could. bc had to her, and from^whence it was impossible to escape -••'-There -she lived in solitude and gloom, still working at her embroidery, and weeping over her wretched Ate-—the only-, ornament of, her room- .vskull and crossbones, and her thought continually'of death.*

A'Hchgth', the five yejirs wer'e' cSpited,

and Johanne was in daily terror of her promise being claimed. The baron visited her one day, and informed her that the next lie |thc

had fixed for their nuptials, and that he

was about'to repair to' the "castles of his

friends in the neighborhood to engage them to be present at the solemnity. irn-vr She saw that she had now no escapc, and when she was again alone, she threw herself on lier knees \n despair, and implored the assistance of Heaven:

Suddenly she heard a heavy foot on the stair/ the door of her tower opened, and a knight in armor stood before lier his visor was unclosed, and slie saw, with amazement, the features of her husband. Sir Hugo but his brow was as- dark as night, a deep gloom was sealed there, "and his eyes expressed no love or "tenderness his glance was fierco.and terrible, as.he exclaimed, in a harsh voice— "Unfaithful woman—betrayer of ihy husbands—thy hour of punishment is arrivrj -nil

cd!" .: So caving, he strode: toward her, and drawing his sword seized her. by-, the arm, "This hand," he said, "on which- I placed the bridal-ring, shall be the sacrifice of thy infidelity—and tlnis I, immolate it to my revenge.'.'

Tlie words were scarcely utto'red ere-his sword had severed her left hand from the fair arin whicri sustained it, ai^d ^ay bathedjn,,hci

tblood^J£J

raamlod a.large s.uiu of:money, which the j^kj him «a single question, and he was.nevfriar had undertaken to bear ba'ck fo ,'tho placc orhi.?_capUVity.' The .gold was. quick-Iyrprq^iii-eil,, jm,d

hope springing-up-in the htart of Johanne,

that Sir Hugq would scion' return tO^icr.i* /"./Another year passed away, and its sank, for no ..tidings came of him she lqtf-: which border./(lie .Trent... .TJiqy, may still be sceu,\there, and are," indeed, a great object of atti-action in the neighborhood, both from their strange appearance and the traditions attached to them./

cd, till one evening, ais she sat in her bower, whose small pointed window looked over* the Yale of Trent,'and her 03-0 rested on the gigantic beeches, -vyliose boughs v^pre Avaving in tlie autumnal wind,- she pcrceived:a knight ride slowly up'tlie long avenue which led toward the castle, and ajfflic light fell full 011 his armor, she saw the red cross upqn his breast."'' '/, itf uih*,rk I nl .,lN"ot,doubting a moment but that it was her beloved lord, she flew'rather than ran down the turret stairsj-and summoning her people, desired them to throw open the gate"?'.to the-crusader but as hc.approaclied, her disappointment wa^ extreme,! for, as -he

Sir Iliigo "then-strode down-the 'stairs ltis:'mailed'hSels claf-lii'ng rfs he passe,cl lie traycr^fti the, small court which, led to, mUc tower, and descending to .the, lowoi-' hall, stood amongst his domestics, who,.with-ter-rificd cries, fled at' his approach? imagining that they Ji ld seen a spc'c'ire:! (ij.hati nigh ti.he, lefi:,.ihc cSstlc?' arid the Wdy of-his inurdcred wSfe v.-as found in her tqwer^-she^w-as: dead, ah'd her right~liand held c5f(?s'e1y tlie^chain/round' lier neck to ^ieh, the' rjng. and heart, were appended. The Baron/.of--..Boy vill never returned, and aftor a search U11 the.neighboring wood, he Hvas found'" pierced

:with

many wounds,- by

.the side of a fountain, but life was extinct, and all efforts to restore him were unavail-

In a few-.riotiths,' Sir lIiigosR'irac 'back to

:his'absentee?

fria^.-departpd ne.w

(dareel.,

er known- to explain to any the reason of

In the centre, the rock-projects-and divides into'fugged points, presenting on one side the appearance of a Gothic archway, with openings here and there, wliich seem like arrow slits or narrow windows several excavations, like cells, are within which communicate with each other, and the whole has a solemn and. mH'steriotis effect/ mantied, as:it now is, vyitli Lyy.. ,The,najnc given to it is Anchor Cihurch, and it'ia. said to htiVe^been once the Te^denee^of anatfe^riteV whose "severities' were

:of

a",v ery* afp-

palUug/nature. '.HumajV ^ones haye been iqund neai- the spot^ an^^th, iraees qf an ttUar- and. other remarkable, remains, are -said* still to lie beneath' '6he-if0C^:|®if?--.'T?|.| ixqrpr BDtrvcryip.ng" aftcr,ti^^catastro5»heiof the Lady.. Johanna's? dMth,T a stranger of singular sanctity took .op .hie-abode: eg5: ^afsB.an'd severe Was he ^o-feimgelfl't'Hat whefl he Applied the discipliric,^'which be ^ii',e.qritinMlly, his cries could ,b,e.. heard for ^grieat-distanco round :,L .thosefiwhqiproetrated themselves thrice at? the foot: of the rock where'lie had feed:his'celbwcrre sure to be relieved of the, maladies from which ^hey- suffered^. and tihe famejof lu^jnqaples was sueh- that the Priory of Hepton wa» crowded with pilgrims who* came to 'visit him. "To

hTd#6£Wii"

wdrfe^'^^orriinate as to

obtain access to, hin?,^9 foVfltnld tha future,, and divulgoA.Aeipost ,aail?fliewfibfejrtkintry rang witfaibi^f^me, andihe citraordi-

nary penance,^Jo^wticli lie Had condemned himself. -..-s -n~ Late-one .stormy evening a meBsenger arrived at Fordfntirk,-bringing tin entreaty to Bir Hugo' fromTthe'".aifcKbrite"of tlie','rockr ll^at, he woulS ins/®nGi^ rpjpair to has cell,' adjuring him.jChe^Qoly^Sepulchre to do -s'-.t: u- o* ,'i u*» I

The' krtr^li^ ^icdonr'dingly took his why'to the secluded spot, and there' found the hermit .extended on the" bare floor in tho agonins of death: he ihad only breath to ask him, in a hollow voice,- for-his forgiveness for some crime he had.'committed against him': Sir Hugo "accorded, the coveted pardon, and-the anchorite,, taking from his bosom a letter or scroll, presented it to him as lie fell back ^corpse.'

Sir Hugo, although a man distinguished in arms, had no learning, anci as he was unable.to deoipher, the.characters in the scroll, he rodc-atfouce:- the priory,^and confiding it to: one of the learned :m'onlcs, desired to Imow'tli^conce'alcd ineaning. After looking if over, the monk, with, a shudder, informed the knight-that^^ its.contents were so horrible thathe would need all' his firmness to hear the'm-^he then read as'fqllows:— "The mendicant'friar 'Bernard and the recluse of the rocks of Trent are one and

same-"

Worldly:vanity seduced me to

crime~^wished

to bo thought a saintyand

1 havc becn a

wretched sinner. £.1 travel-

cd over Europe to gain partisans to the holy cause—I gathered money and spent it in wickedness instead of charity. The Baron of Boyvill paid me to gain over Sir Hugo de Burdett, and I accompanied both to the Holy Land. I betrayed Sir Hugo.into the Paynim's hands, and aftor obtaining money for his ransom from his lady, I returned with the sum, which I shared with the baron and found means to let Sir Hugo know that his lady was false, and-' had refused to ransom him. After this the baron came back to England j-and endeavored, by representing that her husband was dead, to induce the Lady Johanne to become his wife, which she steadily refused. I had obtained large sums from the baron, but he had of late refused to give me more, and in revenge 1 wrought his ruin. I procured the release of Sir Hugo by my agents, and sent him word that his wife and friend were both faLc. lie encountered the baron in the wood3 of Foremark,. and slew him, for he taunted him with having gained the affection of his wife. Mad with jealousy, 01 TTugo put" (.li'j' uuiuduuV fatly cu ilea,th., ..Ilemorsc almost drove, nicjdistracted, when I found the effect of- my work, for my

and I strofrlQr pehi?OTcda?^^dng .1 fearful sins'ancl {hose I had caused. for "my soul^ and let masses be said for one otherwise lost-forever.'' .Sir Hugo,/after the reading of this fatal confession", retnrHcd,.to Foremark a clianged, mm he..entered the chamber of, his murdered wife.for thefirst.tinio since her d,eath, and tl 1 er.e.li e. fou the piece. ofeipbroidery 'wrought of lier hair, the little,cornelian .ring .and. heart and the skull and cross-bolies, which were-the sole adornment of her solitary abode Her body had been carefully buried by a faithful domestic, in the little green court beneath.flic windows of her tower, and to that spot he descended. •'•As his footsteps trod the grass at the entrance. hewa6 arrested by a sound of the sweetest melody he had 'ever heard he stood. 011 the last step and.gazed:over the low wall,?nnd there he baheld a small bird

Pray

of slender make, and peculiarly bright eyes,

scatcd on

luVabriipt return, of• the^cause

ind

of his sev^toJl^d^hanne'/' iouehing^mueie. The moveThere is, at a short- d:istance from Fore- Iment-lie" made startled the little songster, -marirj'n® sihgular la\ik/ot roek^j'wliicli 'rinds !-whose 'quick eye soon pcrceived him,' it ihpre'eipiiafejy/above the exlen.sjye.mcadows stantly spread its wings and flew, upward,

a'^rub.close to the lady's grave,

sinring sweetly ahd mournfully in notes

tantly sy and was out of sight- almost before .he coulid observe the movement..*- He perceived-that it w.ffe a nightingale, an eastern bird, which lie had often heard in Syria, but which is never known to visit that part of England, nor has one ever beei\ scen_ia Derbyshire from that time. £-i ?J£i- A

Many were the tears Sir Hugo shed over that mound of earth and when lie mounted his steed the-next day, and rode/he knew not.whither, it was said that tlie same.small bird flew before him, and he followed its '•flight"till /it alighted in a valley, where in after/j-cars stood the monastery of-Aneote, founded by Sir Hugo de.Burdett, in expiation of hissins.

The altar of the Virgin- there for centuries possessed' one of the most' beautiftil coverings. that'had^evex been seen and whoever it was said, prayed at that shrine, if: any malady affected their hands or fingers, foiindwhen they rose from their orison?, all pain removed. ,f The pgtate/pfTqrcm.vlsfp^ed to a .distant bianoltof- the-family, .but all the females of the raee liave ever since been celebrated for the-peculiar color of their eyes, «1n'd the rmarkablc bc'anfy of, their "hair, at least such 'was the,' tradition of the country in the rtime when legends were believed. At the. present1day nothing remains ot thc ancient houEe Imt the torr'or-1 aild chamber ^at K^owle Hill, ^c"cSrv2d "face over" the, yfail',. and the'J picture^/'^which are /still preserved in tho more 'modern .dwelling house- li'fl fjed coti'A Jj'ii

Society has. aright to be par,licul$r

ifris so often deceived.

E A I E

15at.ttmy lattice, window, r' 1 And*tW rtight/wind whistloti by

The silentsU-rsbnt dimly slioncM'-i-'p" .• Through- bhe Towering: winter skyr-"oh! aorfionrli 1'.' (,'• .••»? .'-..iiT1

My hnir was tJlown by tlie pitiless brecro (.^{ That chanted dirge through the forest trc'o?, And.I murmured wcarily„*"Qh. bo..kii to uic'.'' I-J bstawti 1 nit 5?,i iA .H 1 *,-i uA-t* .*'1 -j^ -1..fy, —. ..* ^'yf— ^.ttosc tfib 'riiohnng early, my eyes'r/cre dim with weeping, -§•1 thought of the fiilont iowly homo 'Wliere weiiry- hearts tire Sleeping—oh! so quietly!

I liyofie down by tho church-yard treo—i' The branehosheavod'alo:lovingly j'c.i Saying,-,"Rest nenr ma! I will be kind to thee!"

16at again in my boVor,"' ^--'1, ^g\Vliare the gardcn-llowera grow, jtwp '. The enn shono high in tho noon-day sty, My lioart tvaS shining too—oh! so choorilyl

t..

i-'j-For a iirm,strong lioart was beating near, -i And a soft voioc' whispered in my car,

•jThyuart &11 mine--! .will be kind- to thocjV,

The Jay lins passed liko a^niglit-drcain, So fair,hut oil- so fleetinvr 1 I Thc,suhii*fit left me smiling'

9,i}

But the moonbeams fontid ine wficping—oh '. so bitterly! For cyprcps'leavorentwirrcdhis brow, j'

And hia^cheefc- wii^'p'alt:as tlrcTalt'crf snow Oh^it'was hard !-and- life so kind to mel T-5 niJj

My hcart-is sad,'yet I we»p n6t, .. JoS Though the soft and Hummer brnczar j.i? Scams not as sweet as wh«n it waved Tliat day tlirotigh tho forest trees—oh! so cheerily/

From jnv lattice I- look up tp heaven high, Where augels watch from the starry »ky, A he I a O in to ii

A N N E A N E E

Charles Nelson had readied his thirtyfifth year, and at that age he found himself going down hill. He had cmcc been the happiest of mortals, and no blessing was wanted to complete the sum of his happiness. He had one of the best of wives» and his children were intelligent, and comely. He was a carpentcr by trade and 110 man conld command better wages, or be more sure,of work. If any man attempted to build a'house, Charles Nelson must boss the job, and for miles around, people sought him to work for them. But a change had come over his life. A demon had met him on his way, aud he turned back with the evil spirit^A new and experienced carpcnter had been sent for by thosq who would no longer depend upon Nelson, and lie had settled in the village, and now took ^Nelson's place.

On aback street, where the grcaTlr'ccs threw their green branohoc oi^or the-way. stood a small cottage, which had once been the pride of its inmates Before it stretched a wide gaf3on't.VSt""f^lT rank grass grew up among,the choking flowers, and.the paling of the fence was broken in many places. The house itself had once been white, but it was now

rdingy

and dark. Bright

green blinds had once adorned the windows, but tufcy now had been taken, off and sold. And the windows, themselves, bespoke poverty and neglect, for in many plaHe&'the glass was gone, and shingles, rags and old hats had taken its place. A single look at the house and its accompaniments told the story. It was the drunkard's home! V] "Within sat *a woman* y'ct in" the early years of life, and though she was.s.till handsome' to look upon, the bloom was gone from her cheek, and brightness had faded from her eyes. Poor Mary Nelson! Once sho had,been the happiest'among the happy, but now none could be mere miserable! Near her sat two children, both girls, and both beautiful in form and feature but their garbs were all patched and worn, and their feet were shoeless. The eldest was

time as she cduld spare, to their instruction. For more than two years, Mary Nelson, had earned all the money that. bad been used inJhjit. bouse. People hired her to wash, -trfriV and sew for them, and besides the monoy-paid, they gave her many articles ofiootfand clothing. So she lived od, and the^nly joys^hat.dwelt with her now were teaching her children and praying to God.

Supper time came, and Charles Nelson came reeling home. He had worked the day before at helping to move q^uilding, and,thus had earned money qjiough to find liim rum for several days.As he stumbled into the house, thc^mTdren crouchcd close to their mother, and even she sllf^n^, away,- for. soraotimeS her husband was angry when thus intoxicated. ,0, how that man had-changed within two years!. Once there was not a|£ner Jooking man in the village! In frameMij£ha(F£een tall, sfout compact and perfect^r formed, while his face, bore the very beau ideal of manly beauty. His noble form was now bent, his* limbs, shrunken,' and tremulous, and his face's!t 'bloated and disfigured.— "He was "not the man who had oAce" been the fond husband and doating father. The loving wife had prayed and wept and implored^ but all to'no purpose the husband was bound to his drinking companions of

thd b?r-fMmT'ail3r1i^^ftnfd riot- biwii^tlin bonds. That'evening, 3Iary,Nelsoff ate^o"^^per, fotraIl.,ihc food she.had ii} the house there .was not more than cnonah~ibr~her 'ffflj'l

(('''v.-'-" *'i®l \£«i

,o)thusDana: and children but wheir&cr ihusband had gone,"she went out _and!picied a few berries) and.thts kept her vital energy alive. That tiight the/poor oman prayed long_ and earnestly^ and her little.onesprayed with her. 3 1 .. .1 —•-r

On the fpllowing morning, Charles. Nelson sought the barroom as soon as lie arose, but'he'was siclr a'nd faint, and the liquor would not revive him, for it would not reniain on his stomach. He had drank very deeply the night before, and ho felt miserable..

At length, however, he minaged to keep down-a few glasses of hot sling, but the close atmosphere of tho bar-TOOin seemed to stifle him, and he went ont. "**r""'

The poor.man had just s?nse enough to know that if he could sleep, he ghctfid feel better, and he had just feeling enough to Wish to keep away "from home so he win* dercd off towards a wood not far,from ttio village, and sank down by the side of .1 stone wall, and was soon buried in a pro-* found slumber. When he awoke, the sun was shining hot upon him, and raising himself to a sitting posture, he gazed about him. lie knew that it was afternoon, .for the sun was turning towards the west. He was just upon the point of rising when his motion was arrested by the sound of voices near at hand. He looked. through a chink in the wall, and just upon the other side he saw his two children picking berries, while a little further off were two more girls the children of the carpenter who had lately moved into the village. "Come, Katy," said one of these latter girls to her companion, "let's go away from Here, because if anybody should see us with those girls they'd think we played with them. Come." "But the berries arc thick here," remonstrated the other. .'• "Never mind— we'll come out some tiiuo when these little ragged drunkard's girls aro not here."

So the two favored ones went away hand in hand, and Nelly and Nancy Nelson sat down upon the grass and cried. "Don't cry, Nancy," said the eldest, throwing her arms around her sister's neck. .1 i-' "But you arc crying, Nelly." "0, J. can't help it," sobbed the strickcu one. "Why do they blame us?" murmured Nancy, gazing up in her sister's face. "0, we arc not to blame. We arc good and kind, and loving, and wc never hurt anybody. 0, wish somebody would love us I should be so happy." "But wc arc loved, Nancy. Only think of our noble mother. Who-couldrlove iis a3 she docs/' "I know—I know, Nelly but that aren't all. Why don't papa -love us as he used to? Don't you remember when he used to kiss us and make us so happy? O, how I wish he could be so good to us once more. He is not"— -. "Sh, sissy! don't say anything more.— He may be good to us again if he knew how wc lo.vcd him, I know Jic would. And then I believe God is good, and he surely will help do something, for mother prays to him every day." —1 "Yes," answered Nancy. -'I know she does and God must be our father sometime." "He is our father, now, sissy." 'm "I know it but hemust be all we shall have by and by, fur don't y5u remember'

thirteen years»of--age,- and the other two fears younger. The inotber'was licaring them rc.cite a grainuiar lesson, for. she. had' mother ioM us that a cold finger wasre^ovled thi^t ber children should not grow ^a^

ul?on

up'inr- ignorance. They could not attend jjeave us one of those dajs, and —andthe coinmon school, for thoughtless chil- /^h.^gDon t, don t, Nancj, you 11 dren snecred at them, and made them the The words were chokcn with sob3 and subject of sport and ridicule but in this tears, and the sisters wept long together, respect they did not suffer, for their moth- At length they arose and went away cr was well educated, and she devoted such they saw more cnildrcn coming.

and that she nag it-,

for"

As soon as the little ones were out of night, Charles Nel.«on started to hi&feet.— His hands were clenchcd, and his eyes were fixed upon a vacant point with an ca*

Dcr

gaze.

"My God!': he gasped, what a villain I am' Look at me now! What a state I am in aud what have I sacrificcd to bring myself to it! And they love yet, and pray for me!"

Ho said no more^ but for some moments he stood with his hands still clenched, and eyes fixed. —At length his gaze turned upwards, and his clasped hands were raised above his head. A moment he remained so, and then his bands dropped by his side, -and he started for his home.

When he reached his home he found his "wife and children in teari?^j[jjit he affected not to notice it. Hcjlre^a shilling from his pocket—it was his last—and handed it to his wife, asked her if she would send and get him some porridge: The wife

:was

startled by the strange tone"in which this was spoken, for it sounded just as'that voice had sounded in days gone by.

The

porridge was made nice and nourishing, and Charles ate it all. lie went bed early, aijd. early, on the following morning he was up. He asked his wife it sho had milk and flour enough to make .another bowl of porridge. (coNCL'-'DK ON roi'RTU FAGi:.)