« ElőzőTovább »
“ The queen
interest. Indeed, they are among the Soubise, who was in the ante-room, and most authentic and detailed records we who ran a special risk of being killed possess of that period of English history. from the circumstance that several took it We give some miscellaneous extracts. into their heads that he had struck the
blow, inasmuch as about an hour previ. THE ASSASSINATION OF BUCKINGHAM.
ously some warm words had passed beWriting on September 5, 1628, Salvetti tween him and the duke in public. The says: Immediately after my arrival in actual murderer, seeing that the crowd London the news reached me of the trag. threw itself upon Soubise, called out, ical end of the Duke of Buckingham at • The duke is dead, and it was I who Portsmouth. The author of it is in the killed him.' One of those standing by position of a gentleman, and it is said that with his sword drawn made a lounge at the cause of his act was that the duke him. This Felton parried, and, throwing refused to give him the company of infan- down his sword, said, ' Do what you like try which he maintained was his by right with me. He was made prisoner, and, when his captain died. He avenged him- being questioned, he said that he had self by a stab with a knife which killed struck the blow, and that he had intended the duke before he had time to say a word. to do so for some days. Being asked if The news of this fatal blow has spread he was sorry for what he had done, said, rapidly over the whole kingdom; and, if • No,' and that if it were still to do he I may express myself frankly, the appear- would do it, having no fear except of the ances of satisfaction are almost universal. displeasure of God.” His Majesty more than any one is touched to the quick by this assassination; he QUEEN HENRIETTA MARIA. feels it so much that they say that he is Many details are given respecting the both profoundly afflicted and incensed. queen - her beauty, her character, her The duke's relatives and dependents are lute-player, her ballets, etc. those who will be most affected by this appears to be very happy and cheerful. loss. As to others, they rejoice in the She spends most of her time at Denmark prospect of dividing the spoils and the House, which belonged to Queen Anne, offices which he held in the government. the mother of the king, and is now hers, All the principal members of the Privy with all its splendid fittings and furni. Council went immediately to his Majesty ture. The king was greatly grieved by the to offer their services; and as all the death of the duke, and the queen exactive management of the government was pressed her participation in his sorrow in the hands of the duke, it will require and did all in her power to comfort and some time to make the arrangements console him. Her Majesty went personwhich may be rendered necessary by a ally to visit and condole the king's relapossible change of policy in home and tiors, an act upon her part which has foreign affairs. It is only too evident that greatly gratified the king, by whom she is the people are gratified by the death of more than ever beloved ; and, were she the duke, and they seem to think that not so youthful, and so carried away by they have gained by the act of his slayer her companionships, it would be an easy that deliverance which Parliament never matter for her to make the king do whatcould obtain. The murderer is named ever she pleased, so much is he attached Felton. He is a prisoner, and will be to her. Their Majesties are at Hampton strictly examined to discover if he has Court and in excellent health, and are accomplices, after which, in conformity enjoying the pleasures of the chase.” with the laws, he must die.” A few days later Salvetti was able to give some details
THE PERSECUTION OF THE CATHOLICS. of the crime: “The blow was given so The attacks on the persons and property suddenly that it was not actually seen by of the Papists necessarily attracted the any one. The duke was heard to exclaim, resident's notice. "A monk has been • Vile animal, you have killed me,' and condemned by the judges to be hanged with his own hand he drew the knife from and quartered in Lancashire. This is the the wound; then, stepping back as if to first whom they have executed for a long draw his sword, he fell to the ground, and time, and it is said that his Majesty does blood flowed from his mouth and nostrils. not approve of the conduct of the judges lo seven or eight minutes he expired in this case." Preparations are making without uttering å word. On the fall of the for the meeting of Parliament, which takes duke many of those present drew their place on the 30th of next month, and to swords and turned towards Monsieur de l extract new subsidies from it. His Maj.
KING AND PEOPLE.
esty in anticipation of its meeting, and to stored to favor. “ The day was happily gratify it, has declared publicly, through ended by the restoration to his Majesty's the lord keeper, that it is his will and that favor of the Earl of Arundel, the countess, he commands all judges and other officers and their son. This took place at the to put vigorously in force the penal law residence of the Duke of Buckingham, against the Roman Catholics; and in par- who presented the earl to the king, who ticular that members of religious orders received him most graciously and twice be sought out everywhere and imprisoned, gave him his hand to kiss. The earl and and brought to trial and condemned, in his family have been in disgrace for two conformity with the rigor of the law, but years. This earl is one of the first perthey are not to be put to death without sons in the kingdom for ancient family reference to his Majesty.. It appears that and great ability. Now that he is replaced the king does not wish that the extreme he will take a distinguished part in the penalty of the law should be inflicted government of the State.” upon them, but that they should be sent to finish their lives in a certain castle far from this where malaria prevails. With The last despatch here printed contains a regard to lay Catholics, they are to be paragraph of momentous import: “The confined to certain places and must pay king and his people in no way get on well punctually the usual exactions. All this together, and I fear, if he cannot succeed is to please the Puritans and to conciliate in subduing them, that the affairs of this the new Parliament; but as with these kingdom wili go very badly, seeing that people it is a maxim to oppose everything, the Puritans win more space to act with never to be satisfied with the present nor increasing daring against the king, who, to agree with what is proposed for the unless he makes peace abroad, will never future, so it may be believed that all these know it in his home and will never be an anticipations and preparations, which are absolute monarch." already regarded with suspicion, will not produce the effect which his Majesty supposes, but that as usual he may encounter in the body of the members the same turbulent spirit as before.”
From The National Review.
WORDSWORTH'S GRAVE. A FORBIDDEN MARRIAGE. The sovereign took at that time an active part even in the affairs of private families. The old rude church, with bare, bald tower,
is here; * On Sunday last the king gave orders to imprison Lord Arundel, the earl marshal, Rotha, remembering well who slumbers near,
Beneath its shadow high-born Rotha flows; in the Tower of London, in consequence And with cool murmur lulling his repose. of the marriage of his son Lord Maltravers with the Lady Elizabeth Stuart, daughter Rotha, remembering well who slumbers near. of the late Duke of Lennox and a relative His hills, his lakes, his streams are with his Majesty, whom he intended, it is said, to give in marriage to a son of the Earl of Surely the heart that read her own heart clear Argyle in Scotland. Although the earl Nature forgets not soon : 'tis we forget. marshal states in his defence that he knew nothing of the marriage, the king will not We that with vagrant soul his fixity
Have slighted; faithless, doné his deep accept of this explanation, but insists that the marriage has been made in spite of Left him for poorer loves, and bowed the his will to the contrary. The Duchess of knee Lennox and the Countess of Arundel, the To misbegotten strange new gods of song. mothers of the married couple, have been imprisoned in separate private houses, Yet, led by hollow ghost or beckoning elf and the spouses in the residence of the Far from her homestead to the desert boum, Archbishop of Canterbury. The event is The vagrant soul returning to herself, of serious importance, and has happened
Wearily wise, must needs to him return. at an unlucky moment. Members of the House of Lords are secretly dissatisfied, To him and to the powers that with him
dwell : for they feel that they have lost one of their principal colleagues. The earl mar
Inflowings that divulged not whence they
came; shal was kept in prison for more than two And that secluded spirit unknowable, years. He was then, however, fully re- The mystery we make darker with a name;
The Somewhat which we name but cannot | Impassioned ? ay, to the song's ecstatic core ! know,
But far removed were clangor, storm, and Ev'n as we name a star and only see
feud; His quenchless flashings forth, which ever For plenteous health was his, exceeding store show
Of joy, and an impassioned quietude.
A hundred years ere he to manhood came,
Put off her robe of sunlight, dew, and flame, To thee what wealth was that the immortals And donned a modish dress to charm the gave,
town. The wealth thou gavest in thy turn to men ?
Thenceforth she but festooned the porch of Not Milton's keen, translunar music thine;
things; Not Shakespeare's cloudless, boundless Apt at life's lore, incurious what life meant. human view;
Dextrous of hand, she struck her lute's few Not Shelley's flush of rose on peaks divine;
strings, Nor yet the wizard twilight Coleridge knew. Ignobly perfect, barrenly content. What hadst thou that could make so large Unflushed with ardor and unblanched with amends
awe, For all thou hadst not and thy peers pos- Her lips in profitless derision curled, sessed,
She saw with dull emotion - if she saw Motion and fire, swift means to radiant ends ?
The vision of the glory of the world. Thou hadst, for weary feet, the gift of rest.
The human masque she watched, with dreamFrom Shelley's dazzling glow or thunderous haze,
In whose clear shallows lurked no trembling From Byron's tempest-anger, tempest-mirth, shade: Men turned to thee and found - not blast The stars, unkenned by her, might set and and blaze,
rise, Tumult of tottering heavens, but peace on Unmarked by her, the daisies bloom and earth.
sade. Nor peace that grows by Lethe, scentless The age grew sated with her sterile wit ;
flower, There in white languors to decline and Men felt life's tide, the sweep and surge of it,
Herself waxed weary on her loveless throne. cease;
And craved a living voice, a natural tone. But peace whose names are also rapture,
power, Clear sight, and love: for these are parts
For none the less, though song was but half
true, The world lay common, one abounding
theme. I hear it vouched the Muse is with us still ;
Man joyed and wept, and fate was ever new, If less divinely frenzieď than of yore,
And love was sweet, life real, death no In lieu of feelings she has wondrous skill
dream. To simulate emotion felt no more.
In sad stern verse the rugged scholar-sage Not such the authentic presence pure, that Bemoaned his toil unvalued, youth unniade
cheered.. This valley vocal in the great days gone! His numbers wore the vesture of the age, In his great days, while yet the springtime But, 'neath it beating, the great heart was played
heard. About him, and the mighty morning shone.
From dewy pastures, uplands sweet with No word-mosaic artificer, he sang
thyme, A lofty song of lowly weal and dole.
virgin breeze freshened the jaded day. Right from the heart, right to the heart it It wafted Collins' lonely vesper chime, sprang,
It breathed abroad the frugal note of Gray. Or from the soul leapt instant to the soul.
It fluttered here and there, nor swept in vain He felt the charm of childhood, grace of The dusty haunts where futile echoes youth,
dwell, Grandeur of age, insisting to be sung. Then, in a cadence soft as summer rain, The impassioned argument was simple truth And sad from Auburn voiceless, drooped Half-wondering at its own melodious tongue.
It drooped and fell, and one 'neath northern
Nature 1 we storm thine ear with choric notes. With southern heart, who tilled his father's
Thou answerest through the calm great field,
nights and days, Found Poesy a-dying, bade her rise
“Laud me who will : not tuneless are your And touch quick Nature's hem and go forth throats; healed.
Yet if ye paused I should not miss the
praise. On life's broad plain the ploughman's conquering share
We falter, half rebuked, and sing again. Upturned the fallow lands of truth anew, We chant thy desertness and haggard gloom, And o'er the formal garden's trim parterre Or with thy splendid wrath inflate the strain,
The peasant's team a ruthless furrow drew. Or touch it with thy color and perfume. Bright was his going forth, but clouds ere One, his melodious blood aflame for thee, long
Wooed with fierce lust, his hot heart world.
defiled. Whelmed him; in gloom his radiance set, and those
One, with the upward eye of infancy, Twin morning stars of the new century's song,
Looked in thy face, and felt himself thy
child. Those morning stars that sang together,
Thee he approached without distrust or
dread In elfish speech the Dreamer told his tale
Beheld thee throned, an Of marvellous oceans swept by fateful abovewings.
Climbed to thy lap and merely laid his head The Seër strayed not from earth's human pale,
Against thy warm wild heart of mother-love. But the mysterious face of common things
He heard that vast heart beating — thou didst He mirrored as the moon in Rydal Mere
press Is mirrored, when the breathless night Thy child so close, and lov’dst him una
hangs blue: Strangely remote she seems and wondrous Thy beauty gladdened him; yet he scarce less near,
Had loved thee, had he never found thee And by some nameless difference born
To which with curious eyes and ears we
Where palmers halt at evening. Thou wast Or powerless now, to give what all men home.
seek! Either it deadens with ignoble sloth
And here, at home, still bides he; but he Or deafens with shrill tumult, loudly weak. sleeps;
Not to be wakened even at thy word; Where is the singer whose large notes and Though we, vague dreamers, dream he some clear
where keeps Can heal and arm and plenish and sustain ? An ear still open to thy voice still heard; Lo, one with empty music floods the ear, And one, the heart refreshing, tires the Thy voice, as heretofore, about him blown, brain.
Forever blown about his silence now;
Thy voice, though deeper, yet so like his own And idly tuneful, the loquacious throng
That almost, when he sang, we deemed
'twas thou! Flutter and twitter, prodigal of time, And little masters make a toy of song, Till grave men weary of the sound of rhyme. Behind Helm Crag and Silver Howe the
sheen And some go prankt in faded antique dress,
Of the retreating day is less and less. Abhorring to be hale and glad and free; Soon will the lordlier summits, here unseen, And some parade a conscious naturalness,
Gather the night about their nakedness. The scholar's not the child's simplicity.
The half-heard bleat of sheep comes from the Enough; and wisest who from words forbear. hill.
The kindly river rails not as it glides; Faint sounds of childish play are in the air. And suave and charitable, the winning air The river murmurs past. All else is still.
Chides not at all, or only him who chides. The very graves seem stiller than they were.
Afar though nation be on nation hurled, Rest! 'twas the gift he gave; and peacel the
And life with toil and ancient pain depressed, shade Here one may scarce believe the whole wide He spread, for spirits fevered with the sun. world
To him his bounties are come back – here Is not at peace, and all man's heart at laid rest.
In rest, in peace, his labor nobly done.
THE PALACE AT JEYPORE.— A correspond- of the scene, a feast is being given to Brahman ent, who has had the good fortune to visit the men and women on one of the many fat roofs Great Palace of Jeypore, writes about it thus of the upper palace, and attendants go about in the Daily Telegraph: “Seven stories of bearing the maharajah's bounty in the form such wild and lovely structure as you would of cakes and sweetmeats amid some three or expect to see only in dreams rise here one four hundred men and women, clad in holiday above the other in rose red and snowy white dresses of crimson and purple, saffron and balconies, oriels, arches, pilasters, lattices, blue, glittering like flowers in the sun, which and domes-gay everywhere with frescoes shines upon the City of Victory' as if its and floral ornaments, 'In this lowest floor, people were indeed his children. Whoever which is kept - like the second and third has viewed that prospect from the palace roof as a winter residence, we are permitted to of Jeypore has seen India in her inmost grace inspect a priceless volume, the abstract of the and beauty.” Mahabharata, in Persian, made by the orders of Akbar the Great, at a cost of £40,000, and illustrated in the most exquisite manner with colored and gilded miniature pictures of an incredible delicacy. The Shobha Newas, floor above, is full of strange paintings on the wall, THE EXCAVATION OF SYBARIS. - The Ital and arcades embellished with gorgeous shells ian government, having at length determined of copper, silver, and foil. Next we ascend upon the excavation of Sybaris, has appointed to the Cuhabl Newas, or 'hall of splendor,' Prof. Viola, the distinguished explorer of shining with polished marbles and colored Taranto and other south-Italian sites, to con enamelling. Above this is the Shish Mahal, duct the projected operations. It is scarcely the pavilion of glass, with endless patterns possible to overestimate the archæological wrought in little mirrors let into carved plaster interest of this undertaking. The splendor of work, and above that we step forth upon the Sybaris and the luxury of its citizens have Mokt, or Crown, of the palace, where the passed into a well-worn proverb; and the fact vast roof is encircled with shady alcoves and that it was suddenly destroyed at the moment open chambers, vaulted by graceful curved of its utmost prosperity points with absolute cupolas. Beneath lie the green palace gar certainty to the richness of the mine which dens, full of pomegranates, palms, and bana- awaits the spade of the explorer. From the nas; and beyond, the spread of the countless hour when the victorious Crotoniats turned busy streets and lanes, girdled by the walls, the course of the river Crathis in such wise and overhung by the encircling hills, topped that it inundated the city, and buried its ruins with forts and temples. It is vain to attempt under torrents of mud and débris, Sybaris and any description of that enchanting prospect, the surrounding district became a desolate more absorbing than any which India herself and pestilential swamp, frequented only by can offer. Nature and man have here allied herds of buffaloes, and inhabited by a sparse themselves to produce the most perfect and and sickly population. These events took lovely landscape conceivable. In green and place 510 B.C.; at a time, consequently, when gold, in rose color and white, in distant, dim Greek art had reached a most interesting stage blues and grays, the gardens and the city, and of development. It is to be hoped that the the far-off walls and mountain ridges of amber, Italian government will approach this imporgroup together at our feet- a picture to de tant undertaking in a liberal spirit. Sybaris light the eye and feast the mind. But how is the Olympia of Magna Græcia, and its can words reproduce Govinda's temple, be- ruins are embedded in a very similar deposit tween the upper and lower gardens; the snow- of alluvial mud. We know how little that white sides of the Badal Mahal, or Cloud mud has injured the precious fragments excaPalace, on the edge of the lake; the dark vated at Olympia by the German commission, ramparts of the fortress in the mountains, and and it may confidently be expected that Sybathose long lines of rose-red streets which inter- ris will yield an enormous archæological treas sect Jeypore? To complete the rich colors ure in as good condition.