CASHMERE SHAWLS. From Vigne's Travels, just published, we abridge the following minute account of the manufacture of the celebrated Shawls of Cashmere, or Kashmir: THERE are now but five or six hundred shawl frames in the city of Kabul. Formerly, they were infinitely more numerous. It occupies six or seven frames, of two men at each for six months, to make a pair of very large and handsome shawls. Runjit Singh ordered a pair to be made, with patterns representing his victories, and paid down five thousand rupis, after deducting the duties. One only of these was finished. The Poshm-i-Shahal, otherwise Poshinina, (Poshin signifies the wool of any animal,) or shawl-wool, is found upon the goats that are pastured upon the elevated regions of Ladak and Changthung. It is undoubtedly a provision of nature against the effect of the intense cold to which they are exposed, and is found not only upon the common goat, but upon the Yak or Tibetian grunting ox, and the shepherd's dog which is used in the same inhospitable regions. The poshm is a cotton-like down, which grows close to the skin, under the usual coating of hair. Goats producing this shawl-wool are common in the countries west of the Caspian, and excellent shawls are made there also. Rudak, a village and district upon the right bank of the Indus, about seven or eight days' march from Lehin, (the latter being the name of the province,) seems to be the first and principal rendezvous of the traders in poshm, which is collected in great quantities from the flocks that are pastured upon the vast plains of Changthung. The poshim is brought to Ladak upon the backs of sheep of a large breed, a long-legged animal, about three feet in height, otherwise resembling the Leicestershire breed. One of these is loaded with from four to six trak of poshm, and will travel about eight or nine miles a day. They cost two rupis each. The Kashmirian merchants purchase the poshm at Leh, at the rate of eighty puls (small handfuls) for a small rupi. It is then cleaned on the spot, and one part in four only is fit for the purposes of the weaver. This is then carried upon men's backs to Kashmir, the time occupied being eighteen days. When it arrives in Kashmir, the governor takes possession of it, and sells it again to the merchants, at 20 per cent profit upon the whole expenses, he keeping the difference for himself. The white poshm may then be purchased in the city, at about four small rupis a ser, (21b. English), and khad-rung, or dun coloured, at two-and-a-half rupis a ser. Some of this is often purchased by the poorer classes who can afford it, and they make a profit by selling it to the manufacturers, after it is cleaned and spun into thread; but the poor are sometimes compelled to clean portions of it which are distributed to them. The thread is then dyed of different colours, and of these they use about forty different kinds. Their blues and purples are made chiefly from indigo; their yellows from a Panjabi flower called gul-i-kysu, and from a grass called woftangil in Kashmir; their blacks are procured from iron-filings and wild pomegranate skins, from which also a light brown is obtained; their reds from kermes and logwood, and a native wood called lin; a drab from walnut skins; and it will scarcely be believed that the finest of their greens, and a light blue also, are extracted from English green baize. All the thread used in making a large pair of shawls does not weigh more than fifteen or twenty pounds English, and may be purchased for 120 to 150 small rupis. After the thread is dyed, it is dipped in rice-water, a process which makes it stronger, and fits it to be more safely moved by the shuttle, and the stiffness is removed by washing. The undyed shawlstuff, which sells at five rupis the yard, is called ubra, from ubr, (a cloud,) or alwan-i-sadah, (without colour,) if white; and if a border be worked on it, the remaining white is called "mutun." Alwan, as the shawl-stuff is called when free from ornament, is not often, if ever, made up by the Kashmiri weavers of the natural colour of the poshm, and may be, of course, dyed of any colour-red, blue, green, yellow, &c. When made with coloured stripes or flowers on it, the chograh of the Afghans, or al khalek, the long under-coat of the Persians, are made from it. If the pattern be worked with the needle, the pattern is woven in. An excellent pair of the former the shawl is far inferior in every respect to those in which description may be purchased in Kashmir for 150 rupis, (about 107.) whereas an equally good pair of the Usuleh (the real), or the latter kind, could not be procured for less than 700 or 800 rupis. The productions of the Kashmirian looms, which are of old and unimproved construction, are very numerous: Du-shalab, or two shawls, they being always made in pairs; Jamaweh, for bedding; Rumal, or handkerchiefs; Hasheyi, or the shawl of a coloured ground with a small border; Urmuk, resembling very strong nankeen; and the Yek-Tar (one-thread), a most light and beautiful fabric, being of one-half the thickness of the common shawl, and invented for the Sikh turbans. Besides the above, gloves and socks are manufactured from the shawl-wool; but they also make Gulbudun, or red silk cloth for ladies' trousers, and Chikun, or flowers worked in silk upon a cotton ground, similar to those procurable at Multàn. Sashes and trouser-strings are also made from silk; whilst Lungehs, or pieces of blue cloth for turbans, and Kumurbunds, or waist-cloths, are prepared from cotton, and rugs and horsecloths, &c. from wool. A cloth called " Siling" is manufactured from the shawl-wool in Yarkund and China; it somewhat resembles a coarse English kerseymere in texture. As soon as a shawl is made, notice is given to the inspector, and none can be cut from the loom but in his presence. It is then taken to the custom-house and stamped, a price is put upon it by the proper officer, and twenty-five per cent on the price is demanded. When it is purchased, and about to leave the valley with its owner, the latter has to pay another four rupees for permit-duty and another seal, which enables him to pass with his property; but he is subjected to further duties at Jamu and Umritsir. It becomes necessary to wash the shawls, in order to deprive them of the stiffness of the ricestarch remaining in the thread, and for the purpose of softening them generally. The best water for this use is found in the canal, between the lake and the flood-gates at the Drogjun. Some ruins, in large limestone blocks, are lying on the washing place, and in one of these is a round hole, about a foot and a half in diameter, and a foot in depth; in this the shawl is placed, and water being poured over it, it is stamped on by naked feet for about five minutes, and then taken into the canal, by a man standing in the water; one end is gathered up in his hand, and the shawl swung round and beaten with great force upon a flat stone, being dipped into the canal between every three or four strokes. This occupies about five minutes. They are then dried in the shade, as the hot sun spoils the colours; and in ten days afterwards the coloured shawls undergo a similar process, but occupying less time. The white ones, after being submitted to the process, on the first day are spread in the sun, and bleached by water sprinkled over them; they then are again treated in the same process as the coloured shawls, being stamped upon and beaten a second time, and then bleached again till they are dry, and then for a third time beaten, stamped upon, and finally dried in the sun. In the second time of stamping, soap is sometimes used, but is not good generally, and is never used for the coloured shawls, as the alkali might affect the colours. There is a something in the water of the canal which certainly communicates to the shawl a softness, which cannot be given to those manufactured at any place in the plains of Hindustan. At the same time, those made in Paris or at Norwich would, probably, be as soft, were it not for the greater closeness of texture consequent upon their being made by a machine instead of the hand. For the same reason, it is well known that the calico made in India is much softer, and is much more durable, than that made in England. There are plenty of wells in the city, and in every case where there is a bath on the premises, as water is found by digging only to the depth of five or six yards below the surface. It is not good, but often brackish, and in some instances is preferred for the washing of red shawls, Old shawls that require cleaning, and in some instances, new ones, are washed by means of the freshly-gathered root of a parasitical plant called kritz. A less with affright. Yes, the bold champion of the party stood as if chained by fear to the spot, while the ghost glided near and knelt before him. He moved not then, but when the figure kneeling by his feet gave forth a low and mournful cry, he fell before it with a loud groan; and at the same instant, all who were spectators of the scene fled from the spot with frantic screams. Fear lent speed to their flight, and they halted not till within sight of their own homes. Great was the consternation their tale created, and the good folks who had the fortune to hear the recital, blessed themselves that they at least had not been there to see the sight. When daylight came, and the scattered party once more met together, great was the surprise to learn that Hugh had not yet made his appearance in the village. Then it was that those valiant sons of toil, who had so quickly abandoned Hugh to his fate, took counsel among themselves as to how they should proceed anent him. After mature deliberation, and many mysterious surmises, it was at length resolved to proceed in a body to the scene of last night's disaster, and investigate the subject most thoroughly. They did so, but how little soever the confession may tend to uphold their character for sagacity, truth requires me to state, that they returned as wise as they went-knowing nothing. Two days after this mysterious occurrence, Menie Ringan sat alone by her kitchen fire, in great perplexity of mind, sorrowful and sad. The cause of this sorrow may shortly appear, but it would not become me to reveal to the eyes of the curious, the secret thoughts of her heart on this occasion. In the midst of her reverie, she was aroused by the sound of approaching carriage-wheels, and awakened to a more lively attention by the vehicle halting at her own door. Before she had time to rise from her seat, and look from out the window, the door of the apartment was opened, and her niece made her appearance. She was arrayed in what is called her "Sunday's best," and the blush on her forehead and smile on her lips, made her look more beautiful and charming than ever. "Annie Kirkland! preserve us a'! whar hae ye been?" exclaimed the worthy woman, starting from her seat with outstretched arms, and bestowing some fervent kisses on her mantling cheek. "I thocht ye had been lost, but welcome hame again, my bonny, bonny bairn." "Strange to say, this warm and hearty welcome seemed greatly to increase Annie's blushes and confusion, who ever and anon cast glances toward the door, as if expecting some one to enter. Menie's heart was yet fluttering with glad surprise, and she allowed a few moments to elapse before she said "But Annie, ye haena tell't me whar ye were. frae hame twa nichts, an' nearly as mony days! could ye gang without tellin' me?” "It was very wrang, dear aunty," replied Annie, here comes one to answer for me." Awa How “but As she spoke, who should enter but Hugh Mair-the forbidden visitor and missing champion, who, odd enough, seemed also to partake of Annie's confusion. Menie looked from one to the other greatly surprised, until at length Hugh gained sufficient courage to say "Ye maun forgie us baith, Menie; for to mak a lang story short, we're married." "Ye're what?" she exclaimed in extremity of astonishment. "D'ye mean to say ye're mad?” "No," replied Annie, laughing, "not mad, but only married." "Married!" Such was the fact, and after Menie's amazement had abated, she could reduce it to nothing less. "Married!" she again repeated. "I daursay the warld's | turnin' upside down, whan bairns like you maun gang an' marry without even asking leave. Weel, weel, wha wad hae thocht it? It surpasses me!" Although greatly surprised, Menie was far from being very angry, and therefore a short time only elapsed before she was perfectly reconciled to the truant pair, and laughed as heartily as they. "I micht hae kent," she said, after hearing the particulars of their preconcerted conduct on the night of the ball, "that it was a' a plot atween ye-but losh, Annie, were ye no feared to parade up an' down in that gait, by the auld tower? Alane tae, in sic an hour! The folk here a' think it was the ledy o' Muntsire hersel, an' they're in a dreadfu' pickle about Hugh. Deed, it was na richt o' ye ava, for what if the true ghaist had come?" "It would hae been dreadfu'!" responded Annie, in a tone of great solemnity, but with a sly twinkling of her roguish eyes. A' is weel that ends weel, they say," concluded Menie with her habitual cheerfulness" sae we'll let byganes be byganes, an' leeve a' happily thegither." BIRTH-PLACE OF SIR ROBERT PEEL. CHAMBER Hall, in the vicinity of Bury, in Lancashire, was formerly the residence of Sir Robert Peel, father of the present premier. It is a square red building with sashwindows. The remains of the old hall are at the back part of it, and are partially covered with ivy. The windows are large, with bold mullions. The house is at present in the the first baronet. The settlement in Bury of this family con occupation of Mr. Hardman, who was formerly foreman to duced very much to its prosperity. Its head was a man who eminently possessed the qualities which in general secure commercial prosperity; and having, by his steady industry, economy, and well-tempered enterprise, amassed a large fortune, he, in the ordinary course of things, encouraged the trade and augmented the opulence of the neighbourhood. Of his father, Sir Robert Peel has remarked-" He moved in a confined sphere, and employed his talents in improving the cotton-trade. He had neither wish nor opportunity of making himself acquainted with his native country, or society far removed from his native county Lancaster. I lived under his roof till I attained the age of manhood, and had many opportunities of discovering that he possessed in an eminent degree a mechanical genius and a good heart. He had many sons, and placed them all in situations that they might be useful to each other. The cotton-trade was preferred as best calculated to secure this object; and by habits of industry, and imparting to his offspring an intimate knowledge of the various branches of the cotton manufacture, he lived to see his children connected together in business, and by their successful exertious to become, without one exception, opulent and happy. My father may be truly said to have been the founder of our family; and he so accurately appreciated the importance of commercial wealth in a national point of view, that he was often heard to say that the gains to individuals were small compared with the national gains arising from trade." It is usually stated that Chamber Hall was the birthplace of the present baronet. This is incorrect. At the time of his birth, his father's residence was undergoing repairs, and the family had in consequence removed into a neighbouring cottage; and accordingly under the humble roof, which the reader may here contemplate, he first saw the light who is now the prime minister of the British empire, the chief servant of the most powerful sovereign in the world; a ruler of nobles, and to no small extent, master of the lives and fortunes of myriads of human beings. This wonderful elevation is the achievement of the cotton. trade! The cottage is built of brick, very limited in size, and at present in a dilapidated state.-England in the Nineteenth Century. CASHMERE SHAWLS. From Vigne's Travels, just published, we abridge the following minute account of the manufacture of the celebrated Shawls of Cashmere, or Kashmir: THERE are now but five or six hundred shawl frames in the city of Kabul. Formerly, they were infinitely more numerous. It occupies six or seven frames, of two men at each for six months, to make a pair of very large and handsome shawls. Runjit Singh ordered a pair to be made, with patterns representing his victories, and paid down five thousand rupis, after deducting the duties. One only of these was finished. The Poshm-i-Shahal, otherwise Poshmina, (Poshi signifies the wool of any animal,) or shawl-wool, is found upon the goats that are pastured upon the elevated regions of Ladak and Changthung. It is undoubtedly a provision of nature against the effect of the intense cold to which they are exposed, and is found not only upon the common goat, but upon the Yak or Tibetian grunting ox, and the shepherd's dog which is used in the same inhospitable regions. The poshm is a cotton-like down, which grows close to the skin, under the usual coating of hair. Goats producing this shawl-wool are common in the countries west of the Caspian, and excellent shawls are made there also. Rudak, a village and district upon the right bank of the Indus, about seven or eight days' march from Lehin, (the latter being the name of the province,) seems to be the first and principal rendezvous of the traders in poshm, which is collected in great quantities from the flocks that are pastured upon the vast plains of Changthung. The poshm is brought to Ladak upon the backs of sheep of a large breed, a long-legged animal, about three feet in height, otherwise resembling the Leicestershire breed. One of these is loaded with from four to six trak of poshm, and will travel about eight or nine miles a day. They cost two rupis each. The Kashmirian merchants purchase the poshm at Leh, at the rate of eighty puls (small handfuls) for a small rupi. It is then cleaned on the spot, and one part in four only is fit for the purposes of the weaver. This is then carried upon men's backs to Kashmir, the time occupied being eighteen days. When it arrives in Kashmir, the governor takes possession of it, and sells it again to the merchants, at 20 per cent profit upon the whole expenses, he keeping the difference for himself. The white poshm may then be purchased in the city, at about four small rupis a ser, (21b. English), and khad-rung, or dun coloured, at two-and-a-half rupis a ser. Some of this is often purchased by the poorer classes who can afford it, and they make a profit by selling it to the manufacturers, after it is cleaned and spun into thread; but the poor are sometimes compelled to clean portions of it which are distributed to thein. The thread is then dyed of different colours, and of these they use about forty different kinds. Their blues and purples are made chiefly from indigo; their yellows from a Panjabi flower called gul-i-kysu, and from a grass called woftangil in Kashmir; their blacks are procured from iron-filings and wild pomegranate skins, from which also a light brown is obtained; their reds from kermes and logwood, and a native wood called lin; a drab from walnut skins; and it will scarcely be believed that the finest of their greens, and a light blue also, are extracted from English green baize. All the thread used in making a large pair of shawls does not weigh more than fifteen or twenty pounds English, and may be purchased for 120 to 150 small rupis. After the thread is dyed, it is dipped in rice-water, a process which makes it stronger, and fits it to be more safely moved by the shuttle, and the stiffness is removed by washing. The undyed shawlstuff, which sells at five rupis the yard, is called ubra, from ubr, (a cloud,) or alwan-i-sadah, (without colour,) if white; and if a border be worked on it, the remaining white is called "mutun." Alwan, as the shawl-stuff is called when free from ornament, is not often, if ever, made up by the Kashmiri weavers of the natural colour of the poshm, and may be, of course, dyed of any colour-red, blue, green, yellow, &c. When made with coloured stripes or flowers on it, the chograh of the Afghans, or al khalek, the long under-coat of the Persians, The productions of the Kashmirian looms, which are of old and unimproved construction, are very numerous: Du-shalah, or two shawls, they being always made in pairs; Jamaweh, for bedding; Rumal, or handkerchiefs; Hasheyi, or the shawl of a coloured ground with a small border; Urmuk, resembling very strong nankeen; and the Yek-Tar (one-thread), a most light and beautiful fabric, being of one-half the thickness of the common shawl, and invented for the Sikh turbans. Беsides the above, gloves and socks are manufactured from the shawl-wool; but they also make Gulbudun, or red silk cloth for ladies' trousers, and Chikun, or flowers worked in silk upon a cotton ground, similar to those procurable at Multàn. Sashes and trouser-strings are also made from silk; whilst Lungehs, or pieces of blue cloth for turbans, and Kumurbunds, or waist-cloths, are prepared from cotton, and rugs and horsecloths, &c. from wool. A cloth called "Siling" is manufactured from the shawl-wool in Yarkund and China; it somewhat resembles a coarse English kerseymere in texture. As soon as a shawl is made, notice is given to the inspector, and none can be cut from the loom but in his presence. It is then taken to the custom-house and stamped, a price is put upon it by the proper officer, and twenty-five per cent on the price is demanded. When it is purchased, and about to leave the valley with its owner, the latter has to pay another four rupees for permit-duty and another seal, which enables him to pass with his property; but he is subjected to further duties at Jamu and Umritsir. It becomes necessary to wash the shawls, in order to deprive them of the stiffness of the ricestarch remaining in the thread, and for the purpose of softening them generally. The best water for this use is found in the canal, between the lake and the flood-gates at the Drogjun. Some ruins, in large limestone blocks, are lying on the washing place, and in one of these is a round hole, about a foot and a half in diameter, and a foot in depth; in this the shawl is placed, and water being poured over it, it is stamped on by naked feet for about five minutes, and then taken into the canal, by a man standing in the water; one end is gathered up in his hand, and the shawl swung round and beaten with great force upon a flat stone, being dipped into the canal between every three or four strokes. This occupies about five minutes. They are then dried in the shade, as the hot sun spoils the colours; and in ten days afterwards the coloured shawls undergo a similar process, but occupying less time. The white ones, after being submitted to the process, on the first day are spread in the sun, and bleached by water sprinkled over them; they then are again treated in the same process as the coloured shawls, being stamped upon and beaten a second time, and then bleached again till they are dry, and then for a third time beaten, stamped upon, and finally dried in the sun. In the second time of stamping, soap is sometimes used, but is not good generally, and is never used for the coloured shawls, as the alkali might affect the colours. There is a something in the water of the canal which certainly communicates to the shawl a softness, which cannot be given to those manufactured at any place in the plains of Hindustan. At the same time, those made in Paris or at Norwich would, probably, be as soft, were it not for the greater closeness of texture consequent upon their being made by a machine instead of the hand. For the same reason, it is well known that the calico made in India is much softer, and is much more durable, than that made in England. There are plenty of wells in the city, and in every case where there is a bath on the premises, as water is found by digging only to the depth of five or six yards below the surface. It is not good, but often brackish, and in some instances is preferred for the washing of red shawls, Old shawls that require cleaning, and in some instances, new ones, are washed by means of the freshly-gathered root of a parasitical plant called kritz. A pound of it is bruised and mixed with about three pints of water, and to this is added a mixture of pigeons' duug, (a piece equal in size to a turkey's egg), mixed and beaten up with about the same quantity of water, and the shawl is saturated with the liquor and then stamped upon, washed with the hand, and then well steeped in the canal. In the plains, the berries of the raynti fruit, stirred up with water, yet not so as to form a lather, are used for washing a soiled shawl. A smaller root, known also by the name of kritz, is used for cotton clothes. The colours of a shawl after it has been washed, are often renewed so well as to deceive any but the initiated, by prick. ing them in again with a wooden pin, dipped in the requisite tints. The fine pale yellow colour of a new shawl is given by means of sulphur fumes. A hole is made in the floor about a foot in diameter, and six inches in depth. Over this is placed a small square chimney of poplar-wood, open of course above. Some lighted charcoal is put into the hole, and over it is sprinkled a small handful of bruised sulphur. Around the chimney, and about two feet distance from it. is placed a horse or framework, about five feet six inches in height, upon which four shawls are suspended, and the external air is further excluded by another drawn over the top. When the sulphur is consumed, the shawls are withdrawn, and others are subjected to the fumes of fresh sulphur. They are kept until the next day, then washed again in water, dried and pressed, several together, between two boards. The mokym or broker, who transacts business between the shawl-manufacturer and the merchant, is a person of great importance in the city, and the manner in which their transactions are carried on is rather singular. They have correspoudents in most of the larger cities of Hindustan, whose business it is to collect and forward every species of information connected with their trade. By their means, they seldom fail to hear of any saudagur or merchant who is about to start for Kashmir, even from such a distance as Calcutta; and if he be a rich man, the mokym will send as far as Delhi to meet him, and invite him to become his guest during his sojourn in the valley. Perhaps, again, when the merchant, half dead with fatigue and cold. stands at length on the snowy summit of the Pir Panjal, or either of the other mountainpasses, he is suddenly amazed by finding there a servant of the broker, who has kindled a fire ready for his reception, hands him a hot cup of tea, and a kabab, a delicious kaliaun, and a note containing a fresh and still more pressing invitation from his master. Such well timed civility is irresistible; his heart and his boots thaw together, and he at once accepts the hospitality of the mokym, who, it may be, is awaiting the traveller with a friendly hug at the bottom of the pass, two or three days' journey from the city, to which he obsequiously conducts him. He finds himself at home at the house of his new friend, and himself and servants studiously provided with all he can require. His host, of course, takes care to repay himself in the end. He has an understanding with the shawl-manufacturers who frequent his house, so that the guest is at the mercy of both parties: and should he quarrel with the broker, and hope to make a purchase without his intervention, he would find it impossible. No shawl-vender can by any possibility be induced to display his stores until the approach of evening, being well aware of the superior brilliancy imparted to their tints by the slanting rays of the setting sun; and when the young saudagur has purchased initiation by experience, he will observe that the shawl is never exhibited by one person only; that the broker perhaps, apparently inattentive, is usually sitting by, and that, under pretence of bringing the different beauties of the shawl under his more especial notice, a constant and freemasonic fire of squeezes and pinches, having reference to the price to be asked, and graduated from one hundred to a fiverupi power, is secretly kept up between the venders, by means of their hands extended under the shawl. When the merchant has completed his purchases, the mokym, who was before so eager to obtain him as a guest, pays him the compliment of seeing him safe to the outside of the city, where he takes leave of him at Chaturbul, the very last place within it; from which custom the brokers have obtained the cant name of "Dost-i-Chaturbul friends." The fool's cap or c/press-shaped ornament, so commonly worked on the shawls, is a representation of the jigeh, or kashkeh, or aigrette of jewels which is worn on the forehead in the East. Every great man now wears one; but when the Patans were in the zenith of their power under Timour Shah, it was the privilege of royalty only. ANIMAL CHEMISTRY. THE blood contains two principal constituents; fibrine, which forms the clot, and albumen, which is dissolved in the serum: the former is identical with pure muscular fibre, the latter with white of eggs. Here chemistry steps in, and shows that, as far as regards their organic elements, (carbon, nitrogen, hydrogen, and oxygen,) these two bodies are identical in composition; and that they differ only in the proportions, absolutely very small, of sulphur, phosphorus, and siline matters, which they contain.-Quarterly Review, just published. THE BANKER'S DAUGHTER. A SKETCH, BY ALEXANDER ANDREWS. Six hours had scarcely elapsed since his first setting foot in England, before Colonel Mainwaring galloped into the little village of W. For two years he had served with his regiment in the Peninsula, and he now took advantage of the peace of 1814, to revisit his country-and Ellen Lansdowne. His heart was light, his spirits high, and the brilliant anticipations that filled his mind reflected their brightness upon his countenance. On that spot, two long (unusually long in his estimation) years ago, had he parted with Miss Lansdowne, then a beautiful girl, just ripening into womanhood. During his absence, he had constantly received letters from Ellen Lansdowne, until the last eight or ten months; but this discontinuance of her correspondence he attributed to the excited state into which the Peninsula was thrown, and by which the post was frequently interrupted. And now, as the familiar scenes of the little village presented themselves, he again struck his spurs into his charger's sides, and darted with increased speed through the high street. The villagers, at first, regarded him with the curiosity with which they usually honoured all strangers; but, as some of the elder inhabitants recognised the countenance of their favourite "young 'Squire," as they used to call him, their hearty congratulations resounded on all sides. "All well at the manor-house?" inquired the Colonel, as an aged man, the Lansdownes' trusty butler, bared his grey head and saluted him. But the man made no reply, and Mainwaring reined in his plunging steed, to prosecute his inquiries. "How is Sir Henry?" continued the young officer; “and-and-” and his voice faltered, "and Miss Ellen ?" Still, the man did not reply. "Have you forgotten me, Thomas?" inquired the Colonel. "Do you so soon forget old friends ? "No, no, Master Frederick," replied the aged butler, "I have not forgotten you, indeed." "Then why do you refuse to answer me ?" cried Mainwaring. "Great God!" he added, perceiving a tear traversing the old man's furrowed cheek. "what has happened, Thomas ?-Tell me-tell me all?" "Poor Sir Henry!" was the only reply. "Is he dead, then?" "Worse than that, Sir," replied the butler. "What! in the name of Heaven ?" exclaimed Mainwaring. "He died with a broken heart!—he died a bankrupt!" "A bankrupt!" "Yes, Sir; the banking-house that he was a partner in, failed, almost a year ago; and he, poor gentleman, took it so to heart, that he died in a few weeks afterwards.” "And Miss Lansdowne-what has become of her ?" "She, Sir, is gone to London, to obtain, if possible, a face, and uttered a deep and melancholy whine. situation as governess." the fallen condition of his patrons, looked piteously in his "Do you know her address?" "No, Sir, I do not," replied the man, " for she was obliged to leave the house at a short warning, and had not time to make any arrangements. Ah, Sir! it was a sad day, when the creditors came to take possession of the furniture; and it almost broke my heart to see how carelessly they handled all poor Sir Henry's favourite goods, and how they threw Miss Ellen's little treasured fineries about the house." "And this is what I have returned to hear!" exclaimed the Colonel, striking his forehead; "this is the issue of all my hopes!-Ellen, the poor, gentle, timid girl, is thrown upon the wide world, without a protector, and compelled to seek a menial situation, and to contend against difficulties, for which her former life has totally unsuited her. Oh, Heaven! that has dashed the cup of bliss, which I had so fondly, so sanguinely hoped for, from my lips, spare, oh spare my reason!" The tall roof of the manor-house was before him,-the roof under which he had spent the happiest portion of his existence, and there was the room, in the balcony of which he had last seen Ellen Lansdowne, waving her white handkerchief in token of farewell. With a heavy heart, the young soldier descended from his saddle, and tying his horse to the unhinged gate, entered the courtyard. The path was already partially choked with weeds, and the windows had formed a target to all the urchins of the village; whilst the flowers, which had been arranged by Ellen's own hand, in the balcony, had long since died away, and the pots which had contained them were lying in broken fragments on the ground. The place was the very picture of desolation, and Mainwaring was on the point of turning, with an aching heart, from the scene, when light footsteps by his side arrested him: he looked in the direction from which the sounds had proceeded, and there stood the gaunt but familiar figure of "Silly Sammy," as he was called-a witless idiot, who had long subsisted on the charity of the Lansdowne family. "Well, Samuel," cried Mainwaring, beckoning to the timid and recoiling domestic, "this is a dreadful change." "Master Frederick! Master Frederick!" shouted the idiot, with the most extravagant expressions of joy, as he recognised his former friend; "but they are all gone now-and Master Frederick and poor Sammy are all that's left!" "I can stay here no longer!" exclaimed Mainwaring: "even this poor dog repeats to me the distracting tale!" and mounting his saddle, he took the road to London. It was on the 19th of August, 1815, that the inhabitants of W- had congregated in little groups along the road-side, looking anxiously up the London road. "Here they come!" burst from every lip, as a carriage and four turned an angle of the road, and rolled along the high street. Loud and enthusiastic were the salutations of the villagers, as the vehicle stopped at the gate of the manor house, and Ellen Lansdowne, now Mrs. Mainwaring, descended from it, and leaning on the arm of her husband, entered the renovated portico of the mansion. The rejoicings of that memorable day, when the last of the Lansdownes returned to the deserted mansion of her ancestors, will not be soon forgotten by the inhabitants of W——. Even silly Sammy still remembers the exact date of the occurrence, and does not fail to describe, in glowing colours, the hearty welcome which the young couple received from all-from the wealthy nobles of the neighbourhood, to poor old Lion the favourite mastiff. STORY OF JOANNA, QUEEN OF NAPLES. THERE are many circumstances which invest the life of this celebrated and unfortunate woman with peculiar interest. The appalling and mysterious tragedy which darkened her youth, the vicissitudes of splendour and wretchedness of her after years, her fame for talents and beauty, have all conspired to bestow on her fortunes more of the character of romance than of real history. The question of her participation in the murder of her first husband, is one of those problems which can never entirely cease to be attractive, because it can never be finally determined. Almost all the chroniclers of the times were satisfied of her guilt; none of them maintain her innocence; and the general testimony, which may be gathered in favour of her character from the animated eulogies of Petrarch and Boccaccio, though it tends to throw some discredit on the accusation against her, certainly contains no direct arguments for her acquittal. History has her victims, as well as her favourites. "The name of Joanna of Naples," as Mr. Hallam well observes, "has suffered by the lax repetition of calumnies. Whatever share she may have had in her husband's death, and certainly under circumstances of extenuation, her subsequent life was not open to any flagrant reproach; the charge of dissolute manners, so often made, is not warranted by any specific proof or contem "But where is Miss Lansdowne ?" inquired Main-porary testimony." waring, hoping to gain some information of her present residence. "Poor Miss Ellen!" cried the maniac, wringing his hands-" peor Miss Ellen!” you "Do Colonel. know where she is, Samuel ?" repeated the "Gone!-gone!-gone!" cried the idiot, incoherently; but Master Frederick's come back, to help Sammy to keep the naughty boys from destroying the old house." Finding that it was impossible to gain any further information, the Colonel opened the mouldering gate that divided the court-yard from the garden, and struck into one of those well-remembered paths which he had so often paced in company with Miss Lansdowne. The sound of his footsteps was echoed by the hostile bark of a large mastiff, who, placing himself in the centre of the path, appeared determined to dispute the passage. "Poor Lion!" exclaimed Mainwaring, as the animal bounded towards him-" poor Lion, you remind me of former times!" The dog licked his hands, and then, as if conscious of of Joanna, during the last thirty years of her life, has been unjustly aspersed, the conviction that her earlier days were sullied by the commission of an atrocious crime has, as we about eighteen years since, suddenly started up, not only to have seen, scarcely been disturbed. A champion, however, avouch the purity of her general morals, but to maintain, à l'outrance, her innocence of the great offence. He caught more than a spark of the enthusiasm of old Brantome, who, after ages had closed over the grave of this flower of Provence and Naples, was fired by her portrait to exclaim that her beauty must have far exceeded that of the Laura of Petrarch. "Certainly," quoth he, "this was a beautiful princess, whose countenance displays great sweetness with a captivating majesty. She is painted in a magnificent robe of crimson velvet, loaded with gold and silver lace and embroidery. This robe is almost in the exact fashion our ladies wear now on days of great solemnity, which is called a Boulonnaise, with a great quantity of large tags of gold; on her head she But while it seems to be now admitted, that the reputation The author of the Historical Life of Joanna of Sicily, Queen of Naples, 2 vols. 1824: a work of very slender pretensions to accuracy of detail or philosophical investigation. |