favourable return to his passion on the part of any lady of our court,who can in honour receive & reward his affection." "Do you, then, sound your cousin on this matter," rejoined the Duke; "for my conjecture is right, as time will doubtless show." The fair Agnes owned to her friend and mistress, what she had before confessed to her own heart,--that the beautiful youth was not to her an indifferent object; and she added, that, for some time past,she had suspected it was even as the Duchess surmised. It appeared to her, that she was regarded with inclination by the Duke's Page---though as yet he had not said a syllable of his passion--for she had observed, that his eyes were ever directed to the balcony where she usually sat with the Duchess, --and once he had been seen to press eagerly to his lips a handkerchief which she had just dropt from her hand, after taking it from the neck of her royal relation. A message from his master and mistress gave him soon occasion to join them at the Baths. "Well, you have now recovered your gaiety, my distrustful Page," exclaimed the Duke with an arch smile, as he approached. youth looked with consternation at the speaker:-" the gentle Agnes was not obdurate, I dare say-Approach, then, and thank your fair advocate here: the Duchess I mean: she it was did a good office for you with her lovely cousin!" Henry felt despair circling his heart, and freezing it, with each word of this address. His resolution was instantly taken; and this enabled him to preserve his calmness. His cheek was pale, but it changed not: his eye remained steady, as he made a commonplace reply,-and the Duke and the Duchess congratulated themselves on the restoration of the Page's tranquillity. The 18th of May was the birth-day of the Duchess: on that morning the rich cavalcade set off for the Castle of Kynast, meaning to celebrate the joyful festival by chivalrous sports. Henry rode by his mistress's carriage, on a beautiful horse, which she had given to him that day twelvemonth. Every one remarked the paleness of his countenance; but an unusual fire sparked in his eyes, and altogether he seemed to exult, rather than, as of late, to mourn. There was general satisfaction expressed at the happy change. The Page's steed seemed determined to show his master to the greatest possible advantage. He went snorting with courage; sometimes playing disdainfully with the earth,which he struck with short bounds; then rearing as if in fury; then springing forward as if maddened by restraint, With this news delighted, and eager to declare them, the Duchess hastened to her husband; who forthwith ordered that his court should take a journey of pleasure to the baths of Warmbrunn, that were even then much celebrated; contriving at the same time, that the two lovers (as they were esteemed) should be left behind, thus giving them good opportunity of coming to an explanation. The Duchess, as she went to her palfrey, conducted by the everassiduous Henry, whispered in his ear: "Be of good heart, wait with patience till we return, and then you shall be happy." The Page was thunderstruck: her words thrilled thro' him he could scarcely stand; and the gracious lady, seeing his extreme agitation, turned to---yet all the while proud of his rider's wards him her eyes, that beamed with infinite kindness, and reached him her hand to kiss. He fell on his knees, as he received the unlooked-for boon, and when he returned to his chamber, after the Duchess's departure, he was almost convulsed by the force and variety of his feelings. Did he understand her aright? His duty to his lord, could he forget it? Gratitude! Honour! Love! all these considerations worked in his mind with the fury of a volcano. sway, and never for one instant escaping, or seeming to escape from the secret invisible power of his flexible practised hand. All eyes were fixed on the gallant youth, and above all those of the Duchess,-who that day seemed to herself to feel an interest in him of a more remarkable nature than what she had ever before experienced, and which created something like an agitation in her heart for which she could not account. His pale face, his beaming eyes, rivetted her attention. She could not take her looks from them; and once she uttered a short hasty cry of alarm, as the spirited charger appeared; to expose his rider to peril. The Page, on these occasions, bowed gracefully but seriously towards his mistress; and altogether he seemed like one who had suddenly acquired new and high privileges, which he was incapable to abuse, but proud of possessing. from below greeted his triumph; the utmost silence then prevailed, for all burned with curiosity to hear pronounced the name of her who had gained the heart of Henry of Chila. "He is about to utter the name of Agnes," said the Duchess to one of her Ladies-and as she said this, she sighed. "He has done a dangerous feat for her," she added.-Henry raised the cup in his right hand; the sun was setting,-its rays flashed upon him horizontally, kindling the fair locks that streamed about his face, disordered by the exercise of climbing. He stood like a divine mesenger, about to communicate the will of heaven to mortals. The silence grew more fixed and deep. Not a breath was suffered to escape. "I drink," exclaimed he, with a loud voice," to my Mistress, to her whom I love--to Etha, Duchess of Leignitz-wife of my most esteemed and honoured Master, the Dukewhom I have ever served with fidelity --and to whom in the moment of death I declare my gratitude." A piercing shriek was uttered by the Duchess, as she turned away her head for too well she foresaw what was about to happen. The Duke sprung forward, exclaiming "in the name of God! Hold !" A loud cry of Jesu Maria was the next instant set up by the whole multitude,—and the body of the unfortunate Page lay mangled and lifeless on the stones beneath the Castle-wall! A sumptuous banquet was given to the Knights and retainers on the great lawn before the Castle; and, after this, Ethą took her seat beneath a splendid canopy to witness the games. They were many and various, of an athletic kind and in these the Page distinguished himself, as he was wont ;-few could compete with him in agility or courage. The last trial of both now only remained: it had been ordered by the masters of the festival, that, to conclude the day's exercises, a prize of a golden chain should be awarded to him, who should dare to climb the warder's lofty tower-overlooking the precipice on which the Castle stood-by the projecting stones of the external wall-a difficult and perilous task, which it was thought few would attempt, and perhaps none perform. The conditions were, that the successful person (if any succeeded) when standing on the extreme parapet, should receive a goblet, filled with wine, from the warder's hand that, thus elevated in the eyes of all, he should pronounce the name of his mistress; drink her health Deep sobs, and stifled screams were in the contents of the cup, and then, de- heard to come from under the canopy; scending, receive the chain he had won, and a sad agitation and hurried mofrom the hands of the Duchess herself. ments prevailed there amongst the atMany young cavaliers made the at- tendants. The Abbot of Lambus adtempt, but soon relinquished it. The vanced towards the corpse, crossing danger and fatigue were too great. At his hands over his breast, and exclaimlast the trumpets announced that Henry ing in a trembling voice, TO HIS of Chila was about to essay the enter- POOR SOUL MAY GOD HAVE MERCY!" prize. He was observed to look earn---"To his poor soul may God have estly at the Duchess as he advanced to mercy," was solemnly ejaculated by the foot of the rock. He was soon the crowd with one voice; and the seen ascending; and, while the crowd echoes in the mountains around were held their breaths, under the influence thrice heard to repeat the word “merof admiration and horror mingled, the cy." The Duke ordered the remains of adventurous youth gained the summit, his Page to be collected for burial in the -and stood erect and firm on the fear- Ducal vault at Leignitz; and masses ful height. The warder held out to were celebrated at Warmbrunn for the him the bowl filled with wine; a shout soul of the departed. THE WALPOLE MANUSCRIPTS, Continued. ADMIRAL BYNG'S TRIAL AND TRAGICAL BUT FATE. UT to observe chronological order, we must return to 1750, in which year began that tragedy which is an indelible stain upon its actors-we mean the murder of Admiral Byng, of which Walpole gives most interesting details. For ourselves, we call it a murder, not simply because it does appear that no crime meriting death was committed, but because it is evident that the life of the unfortunate officer was never considered in any other light than as affecting place and party purposes. The question was not of guilt or innocence in the individual, but of faction and ambitious views in his ultimate judges. If he is shot, shall we be absolved? if he is not executed as a 'scape-goat, shall we be able to remain in power? seem to be the only questions which these wretches asked of their bosoms. Thank God! such a thing could not happen in Britain now: we have our national follies, and our national vices too, but nothing so atrocious as the catastrophe of Admiral Byng could be, were it (which is incredible) wished to be, acted. Walpole says, From Portsmouth, Byng, strictly guarded, at once to secure him from the mob and inflame their resentment, was transferred to Greenwich. His behaviour continued so cheerfully firm and unconcerned, that those who thought most moderately of his conduct, thought full as moderately of his understanding. Yet, if he could be allowed a judge, Lord Anson had, in the year 1755, given the strongest testimonial in Byng's favour, recommending him particularly for an essential service, as one whose head and heart would always answer. Addresses poured in against Byng, for the loss of Minorca, to which Fowke's conduct had so much conduced. But the strongest (says our authority) and most dictatorial was that presented from the City of London; to which the trembling ministers persuad ed the King to pledge his royal word that he would save no delinquent from justice. A promise that, being dictated by men secure of the parliament, plainly indicated on what class of criminals punishment was not designed to be inflicted. The Duke of Newcastle, indeed, could with more propriety than the rest engage the the King in a promise, seemingly indefinite, he, who with a volubility of timorous folly, when a deputation of the city had made repre sentations to him against the admiral, blurted out, "Oh! indeed he shall be tried immediately, he shall be hanged directly." As the day approached for the exécution of the admiral, symptoms of an extraordinary nature discovered themselves. Lord Hardwicke had forgot to make the clergy declare murder innocent, as the lawyers had been induced to find law in what no man else could find sense. Lord Anson himself, in midnight fits of weakness and wine, held forth at Arthur's on his anxiety to to have Mr. Byng spared; and even went so far as to break forth abruptly to Lord Halifax, the admiral's relation by marriage, "Good Good! my lord, what shall we do to save poor Mr. Byng?" The earl replied, " My lord, if you really mean it, no man can do so much towards it as yourself." Keppel, a friend of Anson, and one of the judges, grew restless with remorse. Lest these achs of conscience should be contagious, the King was plied with antidotes. Papers were posted up with paltry rhymes, saying, "Hang Byng, Or take care of your King." Anonymous letters were sent to terrify him if he was pardoned; and, what could not be charged too on mob-libellists, he was threatened, that unless Mr. Byng was shot, the city would refuse to raise the money for Hanover.' We have no hesitation in saying that we utterly discredit these libels on humanity; but as our ideas of Walpole's veracity will be adduced on other points, we shall hold them in abeyance now, to conclude his account of the fate of Byng, after the debate in the Lords on that question, when the Members of the Court Martial (somehow or other) retracted their position in his favour, and left the victim to his sad lot. Walpole continues— The affair having concluded in this extraordinary manner, the friends of Mr. Byng could no longer expect any mercy. If he could be brought to the verge of death after such a sentence and such a recommendation from his judges; if the remorse of those judges could only interpose; undoubtedly their retracting all distress of conscience, and upholding their sentence in a firmer manner than when they first pronounced it, could neither give the King a new handle to pardon, nor any hopes to the admiral's well wishers. The 14th of March was appointed for execution. Yet one more unexpected event seemed to promise another interruption. The city of London had all along assumed that unamiable deportment of a free government, inconsiderate clamour for punishment. But as a mob is always the first engine of severity, so it is generally the foremost, often the sole body that melts and feels compassion when it is too late. Their favourite spectacle is a brave sufferer. This time they anticipated tenderness. On the 9th, at eleven at night, four Tory aldermen went to Dickinson, the lord mayor, to desire he would summon a common council, intending to promote a petition to the King to spare the admiral. The motion was imputed to Mr. Pitt. The magistrate, as unfeelingly formal as if he had been the first magistrate in the kingdom, replied, it was too late; he would be at home till noon of the next day. On the morrow they sent to him not to dismiss his officers-but he heard no more, though they continued squabbling among them selves till two in the morning. Thus the last chance was lost. Had the first midnight emotion been seized, it might have spread happily-at least the King could not have pleaded his promise of severity pledged to the city. I hesitate even to mention what I will not explain, as I cannot prove my suspicion : but I was eye-witness to a secret and particular conference between Dickinson and another man, who, I have but too much reason to think, had a black commission. The fatal morning arrived, but was by no means met by the admiral with reluctance. The whole tenor of his behaviour had been cheerful, steady, dignified, and sensible. While he felt like a victim, he acted like a hero. Indeed he was the only man whom his enemies had had no power to bend to their purposes. He always received with indignation any proposal from his friends of practising an escape; an advantage he scorned to lend to clamour. Of his fate he talked with indifference; and neither shunned to hear the requisite dispositions, nor affected parade in them. For the last fortnight he constantly declared that he would not suffer a handkerchief over his face, that it might be seen whether he betrayed the least symptom of fear; and when the minute arrived, adhered to his purpose. He took an easy leave of his friends, detained the officers not a moment, went directly to the deck, and placed himself in a chair with neither ceremony nor lightness. Some of the more humane officers represented to him, that his face being uncovered, might throw reluctance into the executioners; and besought him to suffer a handkerchief. He replied with the same unconcern, "If it will frighten them, let it be done: they would not frighten me.” His eyes were bound ; they shot, and he fell at once.* The following extracts from our author's correspondence in MS. corroborates the account given in the text, and as it contains some further particulars, may be acceptable to the reader. March 17, 1757,-" Admiral Byng's tragedy was completed on Monday—a perfect tragedy for there were variety of incidents, villainy, murder, and a hero. His sufferings, persecutions, aspersions, disturbances, nay, the revolutions of his fate, had not in the least unhinged his mind; his whole behaviour was natural and firm. A few days before, one of his friends standing by him, said, "Which of us is tallest?" He replied, "Why this It has often been remarked, that whoever dies in public, dies well. Perhaps those, who, trembling most, maintain a dignity in their fate, are the bravest resolution on reflection is real courage. It is less condemnable, than a melancholy vain-glory, when some men are ostentatious at their death.But surely a man who can adjust the circumstances of his execution beforehand; who can say, " Thus I will do, and thus ;" who can sustain the determined part, and throws in no unnecessary pomp, that man does not fear can it be probable he ever did fear? I say nothing of Mr. Byng's duels; cowards have ventured life for reputation: I say nothing of his having been a warm persecutor of Admiral Matthews: cowards, like other guilty persons, are often severe against failings, which they hope to conceal in themselves, by condemning in others: it was the uniformity of Mr. Byng's behaviour from the outset of his persecution to his catastrophe, from whence I conclude that he was aspersed as unjustly, as I am sure that he was devoted maliciously, and put to death contrary to all equity and precedent.t" OBSERVATIONS ON VOCAL MUSIC. BY DR. KITCHENER. THE worthy Author of the present In a word, the charter of our nature volume is one of the greatest benefactors to suffering humanity of which the present age can boast; for whilst the utmost results that mortal genius has hitherto been able to accomplish have been confined to the gratification of one, or at least two, of the Senses, Doctor Kitchener has contrived to minister to the delight of the whole five. The sight, touch, taste, smell, and hearing, of the present generation, have all been laid under incalculable obligations to the multifarious erudition of this illustrious "Secretary for the Home Department," this Purveyor General of all sorts of food, aerial and substantial, to the innumerable family of the Senses. does not appear to have furnished us with the means of enjoying a single gratification, either solid or intellectual, to the improvement of which Dr. Kitchener's Precepts, (peptic, gastronomic, olfactory, or musical,) will not be found in some degree to conduce. Are you short-sighted? He will forthwith hand you the third edition of his Practical Observations on Telescopes, Opera Glasses, and Spectacles. Does your Taste need any refinement? He will educate your palate, by reading you a gastronomic lecture from the fourth edition of his Cook's Oracle; or lead you to scent, in all the luxuriousness of imagination, the delicious fumes of the ceremony? I know what it means; let the man come and measure me for my coffin." He said, that being acquitted of cowardice, and being persuaded on the coolest reflection, that he had acted for the best, and should act so again, he was not unwilling to suffer. He desired to be shot on the quarter-deck, not where common malefactors are:-came out at twelve-sat down in a chair, for he would not kneel, and refused to have his face covered, that his countenance might show whether he feared death; but being told that it might frighten his executioners, he submitted; gave the signal at once; received one shot through the head, another through the heart, and fell." + Many years after that tragedy was acted, I received a most authentic and shocking confirmation of the justice of my suspicions. October 21, 1783, being with her Royal Highness Princess Amelie at her villa at Gunnersbury, among many interesting anecdotes which I have set down in another place, she told me, that while admiral Byng's affair was depending, the Duchess of Newcastle sent Lady Sophia Egerton to her the Princess, to beg her to be for the execution of Admiral Byng. They thought, added the Princess, that unless he was put to death, Lord Anson could not be at the head of the Admiralty. Indeed, continued the Princess, I was already for it, the officers would never have fought, if he had not been executed. I replied, that I thought his death most unjust, and the seatence a most absurd contradiction. Lady Sophia Egerton was wife of a clergyman, afterwards Bishop of Durham. What a complication of horrors! women employed on a job of blood! |