now concealed in her bosom. The moment Cromwell's eyes rested upon it, he started from his seat, and advanced towards Marian. "Where got ye this?” he said; while his strong frame trembled with emotion; and he snatched the trinket from her hands, and as he gazed on the sweet face painted thereon,|| he turned aside, and Marian saw the big drops of sorrow fall on his weather-beaten cheek. her nurse, and which she had kept till watch. "It has stirred sad thoughts within me; and the memory of thy mother, as I last saw her, comes over me as a pleasant dream." He looked on the picture, and sighed as he put it into her hands. "Farewell!" he said; "all I can do for thee I will, and God's blessing be ever with thee!" He pressed her hand kindly. Marian's heart was full, ' and she could but weep her thanks, as the General touched a small silver bell, when the door was opened, and she passed forth from the presence of General Cromwell with renewed hopes and a thankful spirit. "Know ye whose watch this once was?" he said, as he turned to Marian. "It was my mother's, who has been dead many years,” she replied; " and my father is Matthew Godfrey, citizen of London." Cromwell started. He approached Marian, who was still on her knees, and,|| pushing aside her brown hair, which had fallen over her white forehead, he paused a minute, then added-" Thine is a face fair to look upon; and ye have your mother's noble brow, but not her raven hair and eye. In days long past, when I was a student at the Inns of Court, I loved your mother fondly and truly; but her parents suffered her not to listen to my words. Perchance they acted wisely, for mine has been a stormy course;" and he sighed. "The Lord's will be done!" Not many days after this interview, Marian's nurse came to her, and informed her that Herbert Lisle, her beloved husband, was at liberty; that he had been with her, and desired her to tell Marian he was impatient to behold her once more, and to bid her farewell, as he had given his promise to the State to depart forthwith, and his steps were therefore watched by their emissaries. She added, that he would expect Marian at her cottage, at the close of that same evening. It were needless to speak of Marian's gratitude, when she heard that Herbert was really at liberty-of the many affectionate messages to him with which she charged her nurse-of the trembling impatience with which she awaited the appointed hour to behold him. Evening came, at length, and the dark Marian saw that Cromwell's spirit was softened; and she resumed her pleadings for her husband; and she called on him, in remembrance of her mother, to be mer- || ening clouds, and the moaning of the ciful. wind, seemed to portend a storm; but "Thou hast touched a tender string," || Marian heeded not these gloomy appearhe said; "and for thy mother's sake, if I have any influence, thy husband shall depart harmless." ances. She had kept aloof in her chamber from the family all that day, under the plea of indisposition; and it was quite Marian sprang on her feet, and began dusk, and all was still in the house, ere pouring out her thanks. "Nay!" said she ventured forth. With noiseless steps the General, "if the life and liberty of she passed down the garden at the back Herbert Lisle be granted, it will be on of the house, and unfastened the door at the sole condition that he leave England the extremity of it, which led into the immediately, and make no further attempt || fields, and hastened onwards, as she beto subvert the present government of lieved, unheard and unobserved.-Once these kindoms." or twice, as Marian proceeded through the lane which led to the cottage of her nurse, she thought she heard a footstep behind her. She stopped, and listened intensely, but all was perfectly still, and she felt certain that she had been deceived-that the sound had been merely the rustling of the wind through the hedge. May God reward you for this!" said Marian; and she folded her cloak around her, and prepared to depart. "Rest in peace," said Cromwell; " and when thine husband is set at liberty, ye shall hear from him. Take this with thee;" and he held out to her her mother's || "Help is vain," said Marian; "I feel it here ;" and she pressed her chilly hand on her side. The dews of death were on her forehead; but her arms were clasped firmly around her husband's neck. "It is a bitter pang to leave thee !” sighed Marian; "but a few more years, and thou wilt be with me, free from sorrow, from suffering." In a few minutes she gained the cottage, and, hastily unfastening the latch, she entered. There was a light in the room, but Marian saw no one but her nurse. "Where is he?" she exclaimed. The old woman pointed to an inner apartment; but Herbert had heard the sound of her voice, and he rushed forth, and caught Marian in his arms. "Beloved of my soul!" said the young Cavalier, as he tenderly bent over his weeping wife, "what a debt of gratitude do I owe thee! Alas! must the joy with which I now enfold thee so soon pass away? And must I be banished from thy dear pre-loved Marian which he pressed distractsence? Cruel, cruel fate!" Nay, dear Herbert!" replied Marian, "let us not embitter the few moments which remain to us by useless repinings; let us feel grateful that thy life is spared!" "Banishment from thee is worse than death!" said Herbert. "When thou art abroad, and in safety, I may find means to join thee," replied Marian. 66 Happy hours may yet be in store for us." "Bless thee, dearest!" said her husband, as he passed his arm around her waist, and her head reclined on his shoulder. They had stood thus for a few seconds, beside the window, when Herbert quitted his position, and advanced towards the inner apartment, whither a sudden call from the nurse invited him, Marian had taken but a single step to follow him, when the report of a pistol was heard, and Marian, with a deep groan, sank on the cottage floor. Herbert flew towards her: he raised her in his arms: but the ball had entered her side, and the blood flowed freely. Herbert bent over her in indescribable || agony. Her face was deathly pale; but her eyes turned with fondness on her husband, as, with difficulty, she articulated "This stroke was doubtless meant for thee. Oh, the bliss that thou art safe, and that I may die for thee! My poor father!" she murmured faintly, as her head dropped exhausted on his shoulder. Help! instant aid, in the name of God!" wildly cried Herbert; and the nurse, scarcely less distracted, hastened to obtain assistance. The last word was scarcely distinguishable. She sighed heavily: Herbert felt the arms which were around him relax in their grasp her gentle soul had fled— it was only the lifeless corse of his be edly to his bosom, and gazed on in mute but unutterable despair. It was Philip Godfrey who had followed Marian on that fatal night. He had watched her into the cottage-he saw her in the arms of a young cavalier, though he distinguished not that it was Herbert Lisle-he witnessed their endearments; and, fraught with madness at the disgrace which he imagined had been thus brought upon his family, he drew forth his pistol and aimed it at Herbert. But Marian, his sister, was fated to be the unhappy sufferer from his deadly purpose. He stayed not to know the event; as, fearful of pursuit, he hastened immediately from the spot. Bitter was his repentance, when he found that he had sacrificed his beloved sister; and when the true circumstances of the case were made known to him, he was unable to bear his reflections, and sailed soon after for America, where he died at the close of a few years. From the moment of Marian's death, Herbert Lisle was a melancholy man ; and though Matthew Godfrey, softened and almost broken-hearted by the misfortune which had befallen his family, blessed and forgave him ere he left England, he moved no more in scenes of gaiety, for the light of his existence had passed away for ever; and, soon after the restoration of King Charles the Second, he died at his paternal mansion, in Kent, young in years, but willingly resigning the load of life which had pressed heavily upon him since the death of his ever fondly-remembered Marian. MRS. H FAIRY MYTHOLOGY.-No. III. SIR WALTER SCOTT mentions a belief of their offspring, till after they were which is current in both the Highlands christened, when the fairies' power over and Lowlands of Scotland, of the power them was supposed to cease, or at least to possessed by fairies to change themselves be much weakened. Idiots, or deformed into any material substance; and many of beings, were substituted for the beautiful the vulgar deem it dangerous to touch any infants, where the parents were careless of thing which they may happen to find, their charge; and when the strict watchwithout saining or blessing it, lest it ing of the parent prevented the fairy from should be some fairy trove, the possession stealing the child, it was not unfrequently of which would bring with it sorrow and found to be breath-blasted, "their unearthly calamity. A story is current in Tiviot- breath making it wither away in every dale, and believed, of a poor woman, who, || limb and lineament, like a blighted ear of finding a wooden beetle, when she was corn, saving the countenance, which unmuch in want of one, took it up, without changeably retains the sacred stamp of pronouncing a blessing, and, carrying it || divinity.' One mode of recovering the home, laid it at the head of her bed. At lost child, was by committing the supmidnight the window of her cottage open- || ed, and a loud voice was heard calling upon some one by a strange and uncouth name. The cottager fortunately ejaculated a prayer; when down tumbled the beetle, which was in fact a fairy, and made a speedy exit at the window!* Though termed the "good people," the fairies of Scotland were guilty of a great offence; that of stealing not only children, but full-grown persons, especially such as, in an unlucky hour, were devoted to the devil by the execrations of their parents, and of their masters;" and also those who ventured within their charmed circles, or reposed near the place which they frequented. Persons thus taken away, were supposed to be allowed to revisit their homes after a lapse of seven years; and when another seven years were expired, they were again reclaimed by their fairy masters. One reason why the fairies were desirous of obtaining young children, was said to be, that they were compelled to sacrifice an individual to the devil every seventh year, according to some traditions; but every year according to others; and, when they could not obtain them, they substituted a mortal for this dreadful tribute. So prevalent was the belief amongst the Highlanders, of the thievish disposition of the fairies, as far as children were concerned, that it became customary to watch constantly the cradles Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, vol. ii. page 179-180. posed changeling to the flames; a horrible superstition, which, it is to be feared, in the dark ages, was not unfrequently put in practice. Mr. Cromek, in the work above quoted,† relates the following tradition. "A beautiful child, of Caerlaveroc, in Nithsdale, on the second day of its birth, and before its baptism, was changed, none knew how, for an antiquated elf, of hideous aspect. It kept the family awake with its nightly yells; biting the mother's breast, and would neither be cradled nor nursed. The mother, obliged to be from home, left it in charge to the servant girl. The poor lass was sitting bemoaning herself,- Wer't nae for thy girning face I would knock the big, winnow the corn, and grun the meal.' 'Louse the cradleband,' quoth the elf, and tent the neighbours, an' I'll work yere wark.' Up started the elf, the wind arose, the corn was chaffed, the outlyers were foddered, the hand-mill moved around, as if by instinct, and the knocking-mell did its work with amazing rapidity. The lass, and her elfin servant, rested and diverted themselves, till, on the mistress's approach, it was restored to the cradle, and began to yell anew. The girl took the first opportunity of slyly telling her mistress the adventure. 'What'll we do wi' the wee diel?' said she. 'I'll wirk it a pirn,' re CROMEK, on Nithsdale and Galloway Song, page 307. + Page 308, 309. plied the lass. At the middle hour of night, the chimney-top was covered up, and every inlet barred and closed. The embers were blown up, until glowing hot, and the maid, undressing the elf, tossed it on the fire. It uttered the wildest and most piercing yells, and in a moment, the fairies were heard moaning at every wonted avenue, and rattling at the windowboards, at the chimney-head, and at the door. In the name o' God bring back the bairn,' cried the lass. The window flew up, the earthly child was laid unharmed on the mother's lap, while its grisley substitute flew up the chimney with a loud laugh." On All-Hallow-eve the fairy court held a grand annual procession, during which it was believed, that those who had been carried off by the elves in the course of the year, might be recovered. This achievement could only be accomplished on that eve, which was esteemed the anniversary of the elfin tribe; and it is frequently alluded to by our northern poets. Montgomery, in his "Flyting against Polwart," published in 1584, thus mentions the procession : "In the hinder-end of harvest, on All-hallow e'en, When our gude neighbours dois ride, if I read right, Some buckled on a bowewand, and some on a been, Ay trottand in troups from the twilight. "Some saidled a she-ape, all grathed into green, Some hobland on a hemp-stalk, hovard to the hight, The King of Pharie and his court, with the elf queen,* With many elfish incubus was ridand that night." The readers of the Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border will remember the ballad of Young Tamlane; the chief incident in which is the recovery of the hero from the power of the fairies on this holy eve. Tamlane was the son of a knight, who, on a visit to his grandfather, being out hunting, fell from his horse: but the tale is better told, in his own words, as he related it to his sweetheart, the fair Janet : • Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, vol. ii. page 221. "Roxburgh was a hunting knight, And loved hunting well; And on a cauld and frosty day, Down frae my horse I fell. "The Queen of Fairies keppit me, In yon green hill to dwell; And I'm a fairy, lyth and limb Fair lady, view me well. "And pleasant is the fairy land; But, an eiry tale to tell! Ay, at the end o' seven years, We pay the teind to hell; And I'm sae fair and fu' o' flesh, I'm fear'd it be mysell. "This night is Hallowe'en, Janet, The morn is Hallowday; And gin ye dare your true love win, Ye have na time to stay. "The night it is good Hallowe'en, And they that would their true love win, At Miles' Cross they maun bide:" Janet goes to the cross, obeys her lover's directions, and regains him, as the reward of her courage and fidelity. In the introduction to this ballad, from which I have already quoted, Sir Walter Scott says, it is still recorded by tradition, that "The wife of a farmer in Lothian having been carried off by the fairies, she, during the year of probation, repeatedly appeared, on Sunday, in the midst of her children, combing their hair. On one of these occasions she was accosted by her husband, when she related to him the unfortunate event which had separated them, instructed him by what means he might win her, and exhorted him to exert all his courage, since her temporal and eternal happiness depended on the success of his attempt. The farmer, who ardently loved his wife, set out on Hallowe'en, and, in the midst of a plot of furze, waited impatiently the procession of the fairies. At the ringing of the fairy bridles, and the wild unearthly sound which accompanied the cavalcade, his heart failed him, and he suffered the ghostly train to pass by without interruption. When the last had rode past, the whole troop vanished, with loud shouts of laughter and exultation; among which he • Caught. plainly discovered the voice of his wife, lamenting that he had lost her for ever." 66 Tour to the Hebrides, says-" Browny was a sturdy fairy, who, if he was fed, I cannot refrain from quoting the fol- and kindly treated, would, as they said, lowing beautiful stanza, alluding to the do a great deal of work." These fairies abstraction of children, and their recovery, possest a servility of temper, that made from the supplemental ones to Collins's them, provided they were civilly used, Ode on the Popular Superstitions of the submit to do the meanest offices of drudHighlands of Scotland, by Mr. Erskine :-gery." As the name Fairy is supposed to “Then wake (for well thou can'st) that wond'rous lay, How, while around the thoughtless matrons sleep, Soft o'er the floor the treach'rous fairies creep,|| And bear the smiling infant far away; How starts the nurse, when, for her lovely child, She sees at dawn a gaping idiot stare! O snatch the innocent from demons wilde, In a deep cave the trusty menials wait, scour: In glittering arms the little horsemen shine; Last, on a milk-white steed, with targe of gold, A fay of might appears, whose arms entwine The lost, lamented child! the shepherds bold have been derived from the fairness and beauty of the little elfs; so Browny obtained his etymon from his swarthy, tawny colour, the result of hard labour and mean employment. Kirk reckons, as the first of "fyve curiosities in Scotland, not much observed elsewhere,"-" Brownies, who in some families are drudges, clean the houses and dishes after all go to bed, taking with him his portion of food, and removing before day-break." Some traditions represent Brownie as being frequently seen "in the shape of a tall man; ;" but the most common opinion was, that in point of size he was similar to the Fairy, though in his habits, temper, and equipment, very different. Mr. Cromek† has given a most entertaining, and the best, description of this "kind-heart The unconscious infant tear from his unhallow'ded elf," as Dr. Drake calls him, that I have hold." Having thus described the Scotch fairies generally, there are two or three particular species which merit a word or two separately. The Wee Brown Man of the Moors is said, by Dr. Leyden, to be “a fairy of the most malignant order, the genuine dwergar.” This being dwells beneath the heather-bell, and his favourite amusement is to extract the brains from the heads of those who are unfortunate enough to slumber in his domains. Walsingham mentions the story of an unfortunate youth who had his brains picked out by this malicious being. In the Highlands, the Benshi, or fairy's wife, is supposed to announce, by her cries and shrieks, the death of some one of the members of the family, by whom they are heard; and these cries are uttered along the path where the funeral is to pass. The Brownie is a Scotch fairy, of a very peculiar kind. Dr. Johnson, in his Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, vol. ii. page 221, 222. seen. He was "small of stature, covered with short curly hair, with brown matted locks, and a brown mantle which reached to the knee, with a hood of the same colour." When he had finished his work, which was usually by the crowing of the first cock, "he would come into the farmhall, and stretch itself out by the chimney, sweaty, dusty, and fatigued. It would take up the pluff (a piece of bored bourtree, for blowing up the fire), and, stirring out the red embers, turn itself till it was rested, and dried. A choice bowl of sweet cream with combs of honey, was set in an accessible place: this was given as its hire; and it was willing to be bribed, though none durst avow the intention of the gift. When offered meat or drink, the Brownie instantly departed, bewailing and lamenting itself, as if unwilling to leave a place so long its habitation, from which nothing but the superior power of fate could sever it." There seems some * MARTIN'S Description of the Western Isles of Scotland. + Remains of Nithsdale and Galloway Song, page 330, 331, et seq. |