induced him to undergo the dreaded ordeal. He had no sooner laid his hand on the corpse, than a slight effusion of blood flowed from the mouth and nostrils of the murdered traveller. This, together with the faltering and inarticulate manner in which the trembling ostler repeated the prescribed words, was interpreted by the credulous bystanders into the strongest evidence of his guilt; and the landlord himself, however anxious to befriend him, could not resist the force of testimony so conclusive. By the orders of the rector (who conceived it to be his duty, both for the safety of the accused, and for the satisfaction of the demands of justice, to place him for the present in close confinement), he was immediately apprehended, notwithstanding his continued asseverations of innocence. On searching him a large clasp knife, of a kind in common use in that part of the country, was taken from his pocket. This instrument appeared to have been recently wiped; notwithstanding which it was still slightly tinged with blood. The clothes he wore were the only ones he possessed, and were so much soiled with grease and dirt, that had any stain of blood existed on them, it would have been quite indistinguishable. Nor, indeed, had any such mark appeared, could it have been fairly urged as evidence against him, since he frequently officiated (in common with others holding similar situations in the west of England,) as butcher to the establishment, which would easily have accounted for the state of his clothes. The same defence applied with equal force to the appearance of the knife, to which the nature of his occupation afforded a plausible and even a satisfactory explanation. The only thing that militated against him was a bludgeon, with which the blow that occasioned the death of the unfortunate traveller, had evidently been inflicted; and which, having been found lying near the body by the persons who first discovered the murder, was declared by the landlord to be an exact resemblance of one which he knew White to possess, although he said "a couldn't teake upon un to zwear 'twer the very zeame;" and to balance this, Palmer declared, "he hadn't missed Jack at all" on the previous night. On the person of the murdered stranger nothing was found that afforded any clue to his name and history; and the portmanteau, and bag of doubloons which he carried with him from the inn, had both disappeared; on returning to that establishment, however, the strictest search was made by its owner, in the hope of finding something to establish the crime against the murderer, if White really deserved that title. At length, after the most minute investigation in the "ta' lot," or top loft, over the stables, where the ostler usually slept, the portmanteau and bag of doubloons were both found, hid beneath a pile of hay, some of which was bloody, as if from something having been wiped in it. The contents of the bag appeared the same as when Palmer had seen it in the hands of its unfortunate owner in the inn: the portmanteau was immediately examined in the presence of the magistrate, and was found to be filled principally with gold and gems; but there were other articles of no small importance under the present circumstances. The first was an old bible, within the cover of which was written, "Presented to William White, by his affectionate mother, April 10th, 1708." On the inside of the other cover was pasted a document inscribed as follows:-" Wincanton, Feb. 2, 1692. William, the son of John and Mary White, was baptized here this day by me. (Signed) "GEORGE PLUCKNETT, Curate." "THOMAS GREEN, Clerk." "ABRAHAM GAPPER, "ROBERT COOMBS, } Sponsors." The signatures of "George Plucknett" and "Thomas Green" were instantly recognised by the aged rector of Wincanton as being those of himself and the individual who held the office of clerk of the parish at the date of the register; in addition to this, a portrait was found, which was declared by the same gentleman (and corroborated by the older inhabitants of the town, to whom the features had been familiar) to be that of the deceased John White; and an antique ring, on which was engraved, in black letter," M. W. to W. W. 1707," completed a string of evidence, which proved, beyond the possibility of a doubt, the relationship which the unfortunate victim bore to his wretched murderer; and if farther proof was wanting to establish the guilt of the despicable and unhappy Jack White, it was rendered unnecessary by his own confession, from which it appeared, that, tempted by the injudicious display made by his brother in "The George Inn," he had preceded him in his way to Wincanton, and lay in wait for him at a place nearly equi-distant from that town and Castle-Cary. The spot on which the murder was committed was too well adapted for the purpose, the road being bounded on either side by a dreary cominon, or waste, of considerable extent, which terminates on the south side in a narrow lane; it was at the mouth of this lane, screened from observation by a furze bush, that the murderer expected the arrival of his prey; and no sooner had the latter passed the fatal spot, than a tremendous blow from a bludgeon brought him to the ground; he, however, succeeded in rising, and attempted to struggle with his unknown adversary; and the strength and vigour he possessed might have proved sufficient to defend him against his assaulter, had not the murderer, during the scuffle, drawn from his pocket a large clasp knife, and stabbed him to the heart. But little remains to be added to the melancholy recital. A shameful and ignominious death closed the degraded life of the last miserable descendent of the proud "Le Blancs." In accordance with the barbarous "wisdom of our ancestors," he was hung in chains on the spot where his hand had shed a brother's blood. By a singular and melancholy coincidence, that spot once formed a part of the extensive and confiscated estate of his wealthy and honourable progenitors; and the very tree which was felled to afford a gibbet to the fratricide, had been planted by the hand of his grandfather. The birds of the air soon left his bones to whiten and decay in the rain and the dew of heaven; but the gibbet and the chain stood for near.. ly a century, to warn the scared peasant of the vicinity of the scene of blood; and though they too have at length yielded to the rude attacks of time, and the march of modern improvement, which has inclosed the common, and driven the harrow and the plough-share over the blood-stained earth, yet the revolutions of three generations have not been able to root out from the traditional lore of the surrounding villagers this tale of horror. The mansion of "The Dogs," parcelled out into a few wretched tenements, affords a miserable shelter to some of the poorest inhabitants of Wincanton. The memory of the haughty "Le Blancs," and of the Moggs, their successors, have both alike sunk into oblivion; but the crime and the fate of the fratricide have been more imperishable than the fame of his ancestors; and the trembling and simple-hearted peasant still shudders, as he points out to his wondering and affrighted children the site of "JACK WHITE'S GIBBET." THE SONGS OF SCOTLAND. O GIVE me yet another lay,— They lead me back to girlhood's hour, I sang them in the glittering throng, And oft, when pressed to change the strain, I murmur'd them alone-and then I watched the waterfall's white spray, And the light airs of merry France. Yet, when the simple melodies Feelings and thoughts long prized and dear. My sunny girlhood smiles again, And, 'midst a world of strife and art, The songs of Scotland still retain Their early empire o'er my heart. [M. A.] The Metropolitan THE OUTLAW'S BRIDE. You are welcome, love, to the merry green wood, The outlaw's forest-home To our bower beneath yon mossy cliff, No care or trouble here we know, Save when the winds too rudely blow. Your father's towers are proud, my love, And on our cliffs the moon-beams sleep Seek ye for song? Gay troubadours Will sing a pleasant rondelay The proudest peer or palatine, Might envy such a choir as thine. Love dwells not in the Baron's strength; But he seeks the wild wood's waving shade, Then welcome to our valleys green, R. J. M. THE FORTUNES OF MARTIN WALDECK.. THE solitudes of the Harz forest in Germany, but especially the mountains called Blockberg, or rather Brockenberg, are the chosen scene for tales of witches, demons, and apparitions. The occupation of the inhabitants, who are either miners or foresters, is of a kind that renders them peculiarly prone to superstition, and the natural phenomena which they witness in pursuit of their solitary or subterraneous profession, are often set down by them to the interference of goblins or the power of magic. Among the various legends current in that wild country, there is a favourite one, which supposes the Harz to be haunted by a sort of tutelar demon, in the shape of a wild man, of huge stature, his head wreathed with oak leaves, and his middle cinctured with the same, bearing in his hand a pine torn up by the roots. It is certain that many persons profess to have seen such a form traversing, with huge strides, in a line parallel to their own course, the opposite ridge of a mountain, when divided from it by a narrow glen; and indeed the fact of the apparition is so generally admitted, that modern scepticism has only found refuge by ascribing it to optical deception.+ In elder times, the intercourse of the demon with the inhabitants was more familiar, and, according to the traditions of the Harz, he was wont, with the caprice usually ascribed to these earth-born powers, to interfere with the affairs of mortals, sometimes for their weal, sometimes for their woe. But it was observed, that even his gifts often turned out, in the long run, fatal to those on whom they were bestowed, and it was no uncommon thing for the pastors, in their care of their flocks, to compose long sermons, the burden whereof was a warning against having any intercourse, direct or indirect, with the Harz demon. The fortunes of Martin Waldeck have been often quoted by the aged to their giddy children, when they were heard to scoff at a danger which appeared visionary. A travelling capuchin had possessed himself of the pulpit of the thatched church at a little hamlet called Morgenbrodt, lying in the Harz district, from which he declaimed against the wickedness of the inhabitants, their communication with fiends, witches, and fairies, and, in particular, with the woodland goblin of the Harz. The doc * From 'The Antiquary.' The outline of this story,' says Sir Walter Scott, in his Notes to the new edition of his Novels, is taken from the German, though the author is at present unable to say in which of the various collections of the popular legends in that language, the original is to be found.' +The shadow of the person who sees the phantom, being reflected upon a cloud of mist, like the image of the magic lantern upon a white sheet, is supposed to have formed the apparition. |