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jby ja.iies w. jgnes.
Tho Southern Whig,
rUULISHED EVERY SATURDAY MORNING.
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The sale of personal Property, in like manner,
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Notice that Application will be made to the Court
of Ordinary for Leave to sell Land or Ne
groes, must be published four months.
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of administration, must be published thirty
days and Letters of Dismission, six months.
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BOOK BIXUEKY,
qpilE subscriber would respectfully inform
■- the Citizens of Athens and the public gen
erally, that ho has established himself in the
third Story of Mr. Teney’s Book Store, imme
diately over the Southern VV big Office, where
work will be executed at the shortest notice in
all the various branches of his business. Blank
Books made of all Sizes and Ruled to any given
pattern.
1 J. C. F. CLARK.
Athens, Sept. 2.3,—21 —ts
JVV. JONES, is now receiving and open-
. ing at his Store, his supplies of
FALL GOODS,
which combind with his former Stock, render
his assortment very complete.
English Straw X2onn©ts.
A case ofhandsome English Straw and Florence
Bonnets, just received and fur sale, by
J. W. JONES.
Oct. 14,-24—if
200 pairs Superior Negro Shoes for sale bv
J. VV. JONES.
Oct. 11,—21—tf
GEORGIA CLARK COUNTY.
Edward L. Thomas, Admin-
v V istrator on the estate cf John W. Thom- 1
as, deceased, applies for letters of dismission. ;
This-is therefore to cite and admonish all and
singular the kindred and creditors of said de
ceased, to be and appear at my office within the
time proscribed by law, to shew cause (if any i
they have) why sai l letters should not be grant
ed. Given under my hand this l~lh July, 1837.
G. B. HAYGOOD, d. c. c. o.
July 22—12—6 m.
GEORGIA, HALL COUNTY.
HERE AS, Ambrose Kennedy, Adminis
■ ■ tratorofthe Estate ofEd ward-Harrison,
deceased, applies ta me for Letters of dismission,
This is therefore to cite and admonish all. and
singular tbe kindred and creditors of said de
ceased, to be and appear at my office within the
time prescribed by law, to shew cause (ifanv
they have) why said letters Should nOt be grant
ed. . ’-
Given under my hand, this 20th dav of Octo
ber, 1837.
E. M. JOHNSON, c. c. o.
Oct. 21,—25—6m
GEORGIA, CLARK COUNTY.
IV HERE AS, Win. Thomas, Sr. Administra
** tor of Drury Thomas dec’d. applies for
letters of dismission.
This is therefore to cite and admonish all, and
singular the kindred and creditors of said de
ceased, to be and appear at my office within the
time prescribed by law to shew cause (if any
they have) why said letters should not be grant
ed.
G. B. HAYGOOD, d. c. c. o.
August 5, —14—6m
TpOUR months after date application wifi be
■*- nrule to the Inferior Court of Madison coun
ty when siting for ordinary purposes, for leave
to sell the land and negroes belonging to the
estate of Benjamin Higginbotham, dec’d of said
county.
JAMES M, WARE, Adm’r.
Oat. 7—23—4 m.
InOUR MONTHS after date, application will
be made to the Honorable, the Inferior
Court ofMadison county, for leave lo sell the
real Estate of Agnes Lawless, late of said coun
ty, deceased.
JOHN B- ADAIR, Adm'r.
Sept. 16—20
171 OUR months after date, application will be
made to the Honorable Inferior Court of
Clark county, when sitting for ordinary purpose
es, for leave to sell all the real Estate of Eliza
beth Goodwin, late of said County deceased.
THOMAS MOORE, Adm’r.
Oct. 25—2a --- -4ni
ffl I cv n it®.
CCIX JIK C C &’♦
From the Philadelphia Saturday Chronicle.
THE KXI&T’S HETl'lCi.
BV HAWK VON STRETCHER.
It was an Autumn eve: tbe cheerful sun
Had sunk in splendour to his ocean rest;
And twilight hastening on,
Chased from the gulden West
The last bright tints of day, and o'er the sky
Flung sombre shades, and dim obscurity.
A warrior from some distant field of strife,
With hasty steps, strode o’er the spreading lawn;
His brow was high and fair;
And though the smile was gone
From his pale lip, the brightly flashing eyo
Token’d a heart that beat with passions high.
A care-worn; man, though yet in manhood’s dawn,
He gazed in silence on the ancient pile
Where he was wont in } - outh,
* The passing hours to while,
'Mid brooks, and shady groves, and alleys green,
Where wild birds warbled to each sylvan scene, j
And there was Ella’s home ! Those dark grey wails
That fair domain was her own heritage,
Last of a noble race,
That lived upon the page
Os high renown, she ruled with gentle grace
O'er the old vassals of a knigtly race.
How time, and chance, and change, camo over all: ]
His path was laid beyond the stormy sea;
And years had pass'd away,
Slowly, and heavily,
Since the deep tone of yonder Convent bell
Bade the low whisper of the last—Farewell 1
And there he stood again—but all was changed! |
Ths spider’s web hungon the oaken doer;
And round the portal wide,
Where flowershad bloom’d of yore.
In scatter’d heaps—with russet moss o’er grown,
Lay the loose fragments of the crumbling stone.
With trembling hand he touch’d the ancient door: I
It totter’d in his grasp, and crashing toll;
While echo bore the sound,
Like some loud-pealing knell,
Through corridor, and hall, and vaulted dome,
Where the sad owl shriek’d from her fitting homo,
Sad!} - lie turn’d away, and sought the bowers
Where Ella’s lute was ever wont to sound,
While her sweet mellow voice
Gave to the groves around,
Where warbling birds joined in the chorus free,
Pure songs of ancient love and chivalry.
He listen'd—all was still! One yellow leaf
On Ella’s oak, hung quivering in tbe breeze,
The rest lay wither'd round;
And faintly through the trees
The wind of evening sigh’d its solemn breath,
In mystic murmurs of decay and death 1
From his mail’d breast the warrior drew a trees
Os bright >air Lair, which in thatsweret place,
Amid the battle din,
Where foes met face to face,
Was safely hid, that Death alone might part
The lov’d memento from his faithful heart.
Once to his lips the silken lock was press’d—
Once, for an in tant, flash'd bis changing eye,
As the sweet relic touch'd
The chords of memory;
Then sank upon tbe sod his falling head,
The hour of woe was past —the warrior’s soul had
fled!
Wilmington, Del. Nov., 1837.
THE BLACKSMITH OF LIEGE.
A Tale of the Burgundian Wa s.
BY EMMA ROBERTS.
“Those that feare n mailer commonly pro
vide well for it, and have oftenergood successe
than they that procede with a careless con
tempt, unlessc God be fully resolved to strike
the stroke, against whom man’s wisdoms can-
I not prevaile. VV hich point is sufficiently pro
i ved by the example of these Liegois, who had
i been excommunicated the space of five years
| for their variance with their Bishop, whereof
) notwithstanding they made no account, but
i continued still in their folly and naughtinesse,
• innoved thereunto oily through wealth and
I pride. Wherefore King Lewis was.wout to
j say that‘When pride ri'deth b .fore shame, a: d
! dammagc fellow after’.”
\ Philip de Comines.
“Never trust me, madam,” cried Jacquette,
to her young mistress ; '‘but here is the wor
shipful burgomaster, Wilkin do Retz. in his
dress of estate, with two varlets i.i flaming
liveries before him, knocking at the great gate
as though he would beat it down.”
“Well,” returned Linda, “and what is that
to me? lie is come to make cheer with my
kinsman; —brother, I suppose I must call him,
since my poor mother thought fi to invest him
with authority over me.” And perc. iv
i g that her attendant was inclined to pro
long the conversation, the fraulier. motioned
I her away ; continuing to ply her needle with
unconscious industry, while she pondered over
her present situation, and future prospects.
Linda VVilmsfelt was the daughter of a poor
knight cf Brabant, and her mother, b ing re.
duced to poverty at his disease, had subsequent
ly accepted the hand of a rich burgess of Liege,
who was a widower, with an only son. The
burgass and his second wife were both in the
grave, and the high spirited girl, proud of her
nobje descent, and chafing over her scant}
means, was left dependant upon her step-fa
ther’s son; who though not destitute of good
qualities, was, like the generality of his fellow
ctlizdns, tyranical, conceited, and unpolished.
Linda entertained a secret dread that her guar,
dian would attempt to usurp an undue control
over her; and she justly imagined that the gay
attire of Wilkin de Retz h id riot been assumed
without a purpose: she was therefore more
displeased than surprised when she received
a summons to attend her brother in the hall.
Mustering all her courage, she descended to
the apartment in which the two worthies were
sitting in council together; and the m i’s rays
streaming in through an open pane in the up
per part of the window, catching the rich gold
chains with which her visile; - had b: <1; eked
himself, her eyes were dazzled by the reitil
gence of these costly ornaments. It soon ap
peared that the modest burgess trusted entii - -
/v to these gauds,and to his velvet gown fttrr< d
with miniver, lor the advimcem' nt of his suit;
for he Reserved a soleniii faience, and I'ia: z
K'ingsohr, the host, was obliged, after a few
pr< hniinarv hems, to open the iicgociation,
which had for its object a point of no less im
portance than the disposal of the fair handol
Linda Wilmsfclt. The iady, after the approv
ed fashion ofgcntlu dames, declined th; - offer,
“WHERE POWERS ARE ASSUMED WHICH HAVE NOT BEEN DELEGATED, A NULLIFICATION OF THE ACT IS THE RIGHTFUL REMEDY.” JeJferSOn.
I modestly, but firmly; the lover uttered a deep
sigh which might indeed have been mistaken
for u groan; but Franz, of a less imperturable
temperament, burst forth into a torrent of in
vective, and, after diiyys reproaches on the
score of his ward’s obligations to his bounty,
vaunted the extent of his own authority, and
threatened to compel her to accept the orFer
of his friend. All the spirit of Linda’s mar
tial ancestors flashed out upon this insolent
J menace. Coloring crimson with indignation,
she exclaimed, “Sunk and low as are my for
tunes, know, thou base slave of mammon, that
! I d. spise thy idol gold; and when next you
[ take upon yourself to propose a match for the
I daughter of a noble line, choose some fitting
) suitor; for I tell yon, sir, that if you cannot
find a man of gentle birth within your city, I
will send to the knight, Count Lothaire de
Lcchtervelden, who now invests your gates;
my jeopardy will excuse the iudclicacy-of the
prayer, and should he reject my suit—which
lie doubtless will, since I am abused by my
connexion with a trader—rather than wed one
of the upstart burghers of this vile city. I will
ally myself to the lowest, and the meanest—ay,
! to the blacksmith that works beneath yon wall!”
i Franz was dumb during this speech, mere
; ly from inability to find words strong enough
Ito express his rage. Recovering himself, just
I as Linda was sweeping out of the room in
j triumph, he seized her by the hand, and mak
i ing a strong effort to repress his wrath, desired
I her to s >ek her chamber, mid remain a prison
| cr there until she should be prepared to obey
' commands which he possessed the power to
! enforce.—Gladly flying from the spot, the fair
i orphan rushed up to her dormitory; but felt a
I little abashed when reflecting upon the loss of
all her self-command, and the somewhat need
less display of indignation which had provok
ed her guardian to draw a heavy bolt across
. her door, and to detain her in strict confinement,
Iler rash speech had macle a deep impression
upon Franz; he was most bitterly incensed by
her allusion to the Count de Leclitervelden,
ho was the scourge and the terror of the in
habitants of Liege ; although at this time puf
fed up with self-confidence, they despised his
threat of reducing the city, and treated his ap.
preaches with contempt. It was indeed
scarcely possible for a place so strong and well
fortified to entertain any apprehension from the
slender force which the Burgundian knight
could bring against it; but while the Legois
felt perfectly secure of the impracticability of
his efforts, th v would have given half their :
citv, could the} , by that means, have get him
into their power, and have been enabled to
wreak their long cherished desire of vengeance
upon his head. L -.thaite, entrenched in an
impregnable fortress, siiuated on the summit
nfa lull, which commanded the whole of the
adj icc. t ceu..try, mid ovi rlooked the city of
Liege, had, during more peaceable times, in
consequence of a contract net unfrequent in
those days, kept the road, from sunrise to sun.
set, free from all robbers and spoilers; exact
ing only such a toll from wayfaring passengers,
in return for this s. rvice, as they were well
able to pay. Even when the stipulated hour
h.ui passed, and all stray travellers were.gen
erally considered fair booty by the knight who
patrolled the highways, living, as the phrase
went, “by the saddle,” he despoiled them of
neither lifo nor property, but took a moderate
ransom, an 1 dismissed thmn in pe ice.
Notwithstanding those courtesies, the tin.
grateful Liegois hated the bold knight, who, it
must be confessed, took great delight in show
ing his powers ov< r, and iiis scorn of the grea
sy Burghers, as he was wont lo call the lords
and rulers of the city; and many - a time did
hey a't in pt, with al! their puissance to dis
lodge him from his tower of strengih; but he
repelled their assaults, and obliged them to re
treat sorely beaten, and miserably disgraced.
And now that, the duke of Burgundy being em,
broiled with the king of France, the people oi
Liege had seized the opportunity to revolt,
Lothaire mustered a small body of men at
arms, threw up works, and laid regular siege
to the city, Keeping it in check while his mas
ter’s troops were otherwise employed. It was
in vain that the garrison sallied out. resolved to
put this contemptible force to flight; they were
unable to carry the very weakest of the en
trenchments, so admirably were they con
structed, and so desperately did the Burgun
dians defend thejt outposts: n®r were strata
gems of more azail: they were discovered and
turned upon the contrivers, —nay, at length,
< Lothaire, to show his utter coi tempt for tUhur
iiive: tion, and the accurate know ledge which
he possessed of every thing that passed w th
in the city, had the audacity to despatch a
trumpet regularly every morning to the walls,
with orders to proclaim aloud to the garrison
the exact nature of the plans which tho coun
cil of war meditated lor the day; and the en
raged Li eg is having fired upon the flag ol
truOe w hich accompanied thu embassy, and
killed the bearer, he swore that he would hang
twenty of th - ; delinquents before sunset, and
kept his oath
Stiii-g by his taunts, a picked troop made a
snrti'*, and. fdiieg into an ambuscade, w hich
j ho had prepared fur them, he erected a gallows
in sight ot the : citv, and executed tho devoted
number to a mini. This last merciless exploit
raised the ire of all Liege; every mouth was
filled with threats and imprecations, and con.
! fident expeetntio. s were eutertained that the
j knight's head wotikl grace the market place
i before twenty four hours should elapse; but
a lew o ;ly of the warriors who sallied forth
| to peiform the notable feat returned bootless
j home; leaving the remainder dead, or wound
■ ed and prisoners in the enemy’s hands.
i It was not surprising, therefore, that the
; name of the count de Lechterveldcn should bo
' poison in the car of a--Licgois; and Linda, as
j gracious recollections of the kindness which
I she had received from the family who had
; fostered bur from her infancy came across her
: mmd, regretted her cut'ing sarcairns. Obey
| ing therefore the ger.tlc impulse w hich prompt-
I ed her to seek a reconciliation with herofiend-
I ed kinsman, she despatched an humble and
I penitent message by Jacquette, proving to be
| forgiven. Franz,mistaking the motive for
this concession, in the true spirit of his towns
men, resolved to impose hard terms upon one
who seemed w illing to submit; and refused
to grant a par.lon wi hunt a promise from the
t fir culprit to rec.-i.e his friend Wilkin tithe
' charttcGr of a lover; a requisition w hich Lin
' d.i tr ated wiih d:.-d. in ; and was, in cot.se
; qucnce, k. p! mor' - .-.'rictlv confined than ever,
being even d. privi;! : I' Jacquvttc’s conversa-
, lion.
! .digtiation at tie 'reatment which she ex.
I pi rieiiced. <■>;bled Linda to pass thu first day
I ol' her ciiplivily witbmit suffering from ennui;
i bi't tilt l eo’id app "ar - d iiisi.'pportaW v tedious;
| ami nred of her embr - . idcry, she staiioiicd her.
(self at the window < f her apartment in the
I Impe of find'm amusement in the passing scene
I v ilhotit. The lat,lice overlooked the city wall.
SATUKDAT, ECU.^S3S3IS. S 3, I 837.
and was exactly opposite to the forge of tho
blacksmith, whose hand she had declared her.
self to be willing io accept in preference to
that of Wilkin de Rejz. She had often seen
the honest artizan before, without however re
marking bis personal appearance; and she
was surprised, and not a little shocked to per
ceive that he w as a fine well proportioned man,
with a set of remarkably 7 white teeth, and a
pair cf dark flashing eyes; an enormous bush
of hair on his face obscured his other features,
and his skin was sogrimmed with his occupa
tion. that he might have been mistaken for a
Nubian; but altogether he possessed sufficient
attractions to render tho surmise possible, that
admiration claimed some share in the choice;
and deeply mortified by the supposition that
so unpleasant a construction might be placed
upon her flippant declaration, Linda was suf
ficiently punished for the heedless speech.
"But her vexation did notend hi re ; the black
smith, probably made acquainted, through the
loquacity o f the servants, of .v.e flattering men
tion of his name, was continually turning from
his work to gaze at the window of the lady
who had honored him with her regards; and
though his demeanor was not disrespectful, a
smilo played round his lips, and his eyes spoke
eloquent things, if by chance they happened
to encounter hers.
Linda, driven away from the lattice by the
too pointed admiration of her vulgar neighbor,
passed the dreary hours in listless solitude.
At night, however, when she cotlld look into
the street without being visible herself, she re
sumed her station. The forge had now be
come a picturesqe object as it contrasted with
the surrounding darkness. Its lurid fires
spread a strong illumination around, display
ing the swart figures which moved about in
their red light, and- throwing out showers of
sparks as the heavy hammer descended on the
anvil; even the clink of these instruments
sounded not unpleasingly on the ear; and the
bustle, hilarity, and activity which prevailed,
both within and without, afforded abundant
entertainment for the spectator. Citizens
were seen hurrying to and fro. bringing their
weapons to be repaired; others led their clum
sy, but highly conditioned horses to be shod;
the pavement was strewed with armor, and the
bright cuirass, and the polished lance, gleam
ed in the light of the furnace. While sur
veying tbo different persons thus busily en
gaged, Linda could net avoid being struck by
the superiority of the blacksmith over all the
rest. Prompt, agile, ready upon every occa
sion, be superintended the work of his satel
lites, with an air which convinced her that he
had been intended by nature fora superior sta
tion. He had, moreover, a kind word and a
joke for all; and remedying with Lis own
hand any thing that was done amiss, sent away
all his customers well satisfied. There was
an exquisite grace and ease in his movements
which surprised the fraulien; more especially
as she perceived, that aware how ill it was
suited t© his station, he sometimes affected a
rustic and clownish manner—an appearance
however which he could ill support; for if his
attention happened to be called off, he forgot
lo school his limbs and mien, and the agile
spring, the dexterous elegant movement, all
betrayed familiar acquaintance with camps
and courts.
Convinced that some mystery lurked beneath
die proceedings of the blacksmith,became ex
ceedingly interesting to the fair prisoner; and
she was further assured that he was not ex
actly what he professed to be. by remarking
that when the forge was deserted and free from
all visiters and lookers on, he never troubled
himself with manual labor, though showing at
other times considerable expertness at his trade.
He seemed to be more familiar with the javel
in than with the coulter, and when freed from
the gaze of strangers, he lounged idly over hi a
tools, or tilted against the wall, while his fel
low mechanics paid him the most profound
respect. It was in vain that she puzzled her
self to fathom the secret; and tired at length
with fruitless conjectures, she dismissed the
subject from her mind, and began to consider
how she could best recover her freedom.
Franz was inexorable to -all her entreaties for
pardon, and would accept of nothing less than
unconditional obedience.
The burgess had lately obtained an officii of
some importance in the government of the city,
—an elevation which he owed to bis friend
Wilkin,—and having had thecasting vote in
two instances, —in one of which he displayed
his rigorous devotion to? justice, by dooming
the criminal to the I lock,and in the other, his
love of mercy, by favoring the more lenient
party —he began to fancy that h« possessed
the power of dispensing life and death. In
consequence oi this opinion, bis aspect became
so terrible, that tbe household scullions, who
j had been wont to exchange familiar words
with their old master’s son, fled from him in
i dismay; and even the. turnspits hung their tails,
and s;unk away as fast as their bandy legs
could carry them rushing into the very jaws of
the cook at. roasting time rather than lace so
fierce a personage. There could bo no hope
for Linda while her guardian continued to
entertain these inflated notions of his
own dignity; so she made up her mind to a
prolonged imprisonment, and, from the mere
' necessity of taking exercise busied herself with
I making alterations m tho disposition of the fur
niture of her apartment. In removing a large
press which, for sometime, bude defiance to
her efforts, a piece of the arras hanging fell
from the wall, and in endeavoring to replace it,
she touched a secret spring. A pannel in the
wainscot flew open, and disclosed an aperture,
I which, upon inspection, proved to be the en
trance to a flight of dark, narrow, winding
j stairs. The necessity of procuring a light to
guide her through the mazes of this passage,
obliged the impatient girl to postpone her per
egrinations until nightfall. A lamp was al
ways sent in with her supper, and without an
instant’s delaj, sho set forward upon an ad
venture which she trusted would enable her to
quit for ever a roof which hud now become
odious. The stairs conducted her to a consid
| erable depth below the surface of the earth
' and ended in a passage which she imagined,
from the direction it took, must lead across
tbe street. Advancing along this path, she
was excessively alarmed by a noise which
[ seemed to proceed from the very bowels of the
earth; she paused,--her heart palpitated, and
I the lamp nearly dropped from her hand; but
I reflecting that the din of the city, the tramp of
horses, and the roil ofcarts, would come with
a strange and deadened sound upon her ears,
she soothed her apprehensions bv attributing
the extraordinary clamor to mitur d and com
mon causes. Somewhat re-assured, she mov
ed forward, and, -arriving at the end of the uas
siige, another Slight of stairs presented itself:
j these she ascended, and arrested a second time
1 by sin alarming sound, she < learly distinguish.
I cd the hum ofvoic.es now close beside her.
I rfhc paused again, and perceiving a chink in
the wall, discovered that she was close to the
forge. The stairs ran along tbe side of a sub
terranean apartment immediately behind the
blacksmith’s shop; and Linda was now a wit
ness of a secret assembly in w hich the black
; smith himself, divested of his beard and other
disguises, appeared to be the principal person-
I age. A largi* excavation yawned in one cor
ner of the room, through which the party as
cended and descended, apparently giving or
ders to Workmen bclew Linda listened breath,
lessly to the debate, and stood aghast with
horror at the words winch struck upon her ear.
“Dolts! cravens! drones!” exclaimed the
blacksmith, “had ye possessed the spirit ofyour
brave comrades who went from the Burgun
dian camp, we should have had the mine com
pleted, and the two avenues joined long ago.
Tell me not ot obstacle ! I never found one
yet. ’Sdeath ! the duke our master will es
cape the toils of Louis, and be at the gates to
wrest the glory of the enterprise from our too '
tardy hands. By the eleven thousand virgins,
and the three Kings of Cologne, I swear, that
if the city be won without the assistance of
tho troops of Charles, I will make you dukes
and princes in the land; ye shall drink the
health of Lothaire Lechtervelden from golden
goblets—ay and that of the blacksmith’s bride.
So bestir yourselves,ye loitering knaves; give
,me the splendid prize I pant to grasp. Here’s j.
to Liege and Linda!”
The terrified girl heard no more, but fled in *
haste from the spot, resting not a moment tin.
til she gained her own chamber; and now at
no loss to account for tho noise made by the
pix axes and spades, which were cutting a
passage through the solid earth. Filled with
tumultuous emotions, she was distracted by the
multiplicity of feelings contending for mastery.
Until this moment she had never suspected that
the slightest danger threatened Liege: she, in
common with the other inhabitants, consider
ed the attempt of Lothaire in the light of an
idle bravado undertaken merely to anoy the
citizens; for even in the event of the hostile
approach of the duke of Burgundy, no one ap
prehended any serious evil, since all previous
quarrels between that prince and his fickle sub
jects had been made up, after a little blood- (
shed, by the payment of a heavy subsidy; the
duke taking care to exact no more than the i
city was very well able to give. But now if
Lothaire should be permitted to execute his !
project unmolested, Liege would be sacked !
and placed at the mercy of a triumphant and i
relentless foe. Could she look tamely-on and )
witness the destruction of a town which had '
given her shelter in her adversity ?—the plan- j
der of its sanctuaries, and the massacre of its ;
inhabitants? No, no; she would fly to the i
council and apprise them of their danger; her |
hand was already raised to give the alarm; i
but tho image of Lothaire, pale, bleeding, ex- i
ptring, by cruel and lingering torture, swam I
before her, and sho paused. Were there no >
means of saving him from an infamous and I
painful death? Must he be cut off'in the ca- ■
rcer of his glory.—he whose gay sallies had!
made her smile when smiles were strangers to '
her lips?—he who was so beautiful and so val- i
taut, whose kindness and courtesy she had so i
much admired, and who had, even while anti. '
cipating the co.;suinmation oi all his hones of'
conquest, pronounced her name with tender,
ness? She could not, would not betray him.
Yet, again, how could she answer it to her con
science to allow him to proceed unchecked in
his ambitious purpose? Blood would be upon
her soul, —tho cry of the widow and the or. j
phau would rise up in accusation to heaven !
against her: she must be answerable for all the j
violence committed by exasperated and brutal
victors, and she sickened at the bare imagine. /
tion of all the horrors which would befall the ,
hapless wretches sacrificed to her affection for
a man, perchance unworthy of her love, j
Pressing one hand upon her forehead, and the
other over her heart, to still the throbbing pul. ;
ses which caused its deep emot : ou,she strove !
to collect her scattered thoughts, and endea- !
vored to strike out some middle course by
which she might preserve the city, and secure
the life of the gallant Burgundian. Plan at. .
ter plan prOtmted itself, only to be rejected. ;
Linda knew that she dared not trust to tho most i
solemn oaths taken by the rulers of Liege; |
they had been too often perjured and forsworn '
to regard the disgrace and infamy attached to!
their broken pledges, and she dared not hope !
that they would forego their long baffled tc. I
venge upon one whom they feared and hated !
more deeply and more bitterly than the prince j
of darkness himself.
Morning came, and found the agitated girl
still undecided how to act; but an incident,
occurred which determined her to trust to tbe
foes who threatened the gates, rather than to
the ungrateful people of Liege.
Franz, whose greatest fault consisted in his
too ardent zeal in the service of the govern,
was arrested at break of day, and drag.
| ged to prison upon some frivolous charge; his
■ false friend, Wilkin de Retz, being the accuser.
Aware that the disgrace of a person who had
been entrusted with a share in the admmistra
tion, wa.s invariably followed by death, Linda
fol’ assured that her only chance of rescuing
her kinsman from the block, rested in a suc
cessful negotiation with Lothaire. She was
fortunately not ignorant of the art of writing—
an accomplishment rather uncommon in that
period,—and she therefore needed no assist
ance in her communication with the Burgun
dian.
She acquainted him with the extent of the
knowledge which she had acquired, taking
care to conceal the means, anil the circum.
stance ot its being limited to her own breast;
as she justly deemed that if he knew that his
secret had been penetrate*! by one person alone
and that a woman, he would contrive some
means to prevent it from sprerdmg farther.
She proceeded to declare her resolution to di.
vulge the whole affair to the council, unless
he and his followers would sign a solemnly at.
tested treaty, guaranteeing the security of all
personal property, and the safety of the inhab.
itants from ii jury and insult; vv Inch document
she required should be deposited at the shrine
of the Virgin in the church of Notre Dame.
Determined not to make a confidant, Linda
prepared to be the bearer of her own despatch;
and attiring herself in the garb of a page, she
threw a cloak over her shoulders, and taking
a lance in her hand under the pretence ofget-
I ting a new point, she stole out cf the house, ol
which she was now sole mistress, and repaired
to tho forgo. The anvil sounded lowdlv ns she
approached tbe shop, in which, as usual, half a
dozen men were hard at work. The delicate
appearance of the new customer no appear-
ance which no art could conceal although Lin
da had disguised lu rself cleverly enough,—
excited tho merriment ol the boors who were
busy at the forge.
*• Vv hat silken spaik have you hero,"’ cried
one, “ with his graudame’s bodkin to be beaten
straight?”
“ Gramcrcy,” exclaimed another, “ thou art
a bold lad to trust thyself with a pointless lance;
by’r lady, with a dozen such as thou, wc need
not fear the Burgundian, <u gh Duke Charles
himself headed the onslaught. G o thy ways,
elf-ling, thou wilt find needles and thimbles at
the tailor’s yonder; we deal not in such gear.”
Somewhat abashed by this reception, yet
resolved to stand her ground, Linda looked
anxiously towards the master smith, and catch
ing his eye, made him an expressive sign.—
The workmen laughed, and whispered among
themselves, repressing however the jests which
sprang to their lips ; and Lothaire stepping
forward, started with dismay and surprise as
Linda, in a low distinct voice, pronounced his
name, and putting a roll of paper in his hand,
retreated ; the knight not daring to arrest her
passage, lest he should be betrayed by the idlers
in the street.
Linda had ptepared for every thing; she
would not return home lest bor footsteps should
be watched, bet entered - a church in which
she had already hidden disguise. Ar
raying herself i;i a cloak and veil, which ren
dered one female only distinguishable from
another by the height and size of the wearer,
she proceeded to Notre Dame, and stationed
herself at a convenient distance from the shrine,
choosing a spot in which she was not exposed
to observation. Praying fervently for the suc
cess of her plan, yet scarcely able to fix her
thoughts upon the saint whose aid she sought,
she anxiously awaited the time in which she
might venture to hope for Lothaire’s reply.
Many persons passed and repassed during
the period of her anxious vigil, and having
performed their orisons before the altar, with
drew. At length the clock struck the ap
pointed hour ; she tremblingly approached the
spot, and. deposited in the niche 'CVliich she
had named, she discovered and drew forth the
answer of the Burgundian. It contained the
pledge which she demanded, and although
evidently wrung reluctantly from the knight’s
hand bv the exigence of the moment, it was
full, complete, and satisfactory; Linda doubted
not that it would be held inviolate, since the
honor of Lothaire de Lechtenvelden, whose
name engrossed the parchment, had ever been
unstained.
Returning to her solitary home, Linda, aware
that the crisis was at hand, stationed herself at
a window to watch the event; having without
exciting any attention, taken care to provide
for the security of the house. The usual eve
ning crowd had assembled round the forge,
and the same bustle and activity as heretofore
prevailed ; the blacksmith himself was absent;
nevertheless, there was no lack ofgayety,—the
loud laugh and the oft repeated burthen of some
old song, resounded to the clank of the anvil,
and the tall of the sledge-hammer. Gradually
as upon former occasions, the assembly drop
ped off, the fires decayed, and at length all
was silent and deserted ; the Cyclops, appa
rently tired ot their work, withdrawing to seek
a few hours of repose.-
Midnigh't approached, was passed, and all
remained still and solitary as the grave. Short
ly after the clock had struck the half hour,
Linda's eyes piercing the deep shade, detected
groups of two and three together stealing out.
under the shade of the overhanging wall, and
dispersing themselves noiselessly throughout
the city. As the night advanced, the numbers
thus emerging from the forge, increased, and
one figure taller, more commanding than the
rest, betrayed the disguised noble to the anx
ious girl. Soon afterwards a signal struck the
watchful Linda’s ear; the chimes of the ca
thedral had been changed ; all still remained
profoundly tranquil, and as the silvery sounds
floated through the calm night-air, they seem
ed to speak of peace and security, strongly at
variance with ths coming strife.
Another hour nearly passed; but then there
arose a tumult in the city, at first faint, and ap
parently no more than might be occasioned
by some drunken brawl, but afterwards of a
more alarming nature; bells tolled, and were
suddenly stopped ; v indows and doors rattled;
a cry of “ Treason” ran through the streets,
mingled with the clashing of swords and the
groans of the wounded. Many who would
have,bestirred themselves, had they known the
real cause, believed it to be a popular tumult,
and remained quiescent.
At length the drums beat to arms, the trum
pets sounded, but all too late ; day dawned,
and the bewildered Liegois found the arsenal
and all the principal places in the hands of
Count Lothaire.s men-at-arms, the garrison
disarmed, and the magistrates in prison. The
duke’s banners waved from every tower,stee
ple, and pinnacle ; and, before ten in the morn
ing, two of the most factious of the burgesses,
men who had burned the Duke Philip and his
son in effigy, reversing their arms as those of
traitors, had been tried, condemned and execu
ted, by their fallow.citizens, now anxious to
make a grand display of loyalty. The heads
ot these men, mounted upon poles, were stuck
up at the principal gates also, at the instiga
tion of their late colleagues. No other person
suffered, and Franz, liberated from prison by
the hand of Count Lothaire, led his deliverer
to his sister’s feet, and gladlv gave his consent
to the union with the “ Blacksmith of Liege.”
THE BKEAKINK HEART.
I know the only heart I prize
Throbs for another now,
And he has scaled his first warm kiss
Upon her fair, pale brow.
Her dark fringed eyes are turned to him,
How fond, yet passion free,
In vain I watch to meet their glance,
They beam not thus on me.
Her sweet voice falls upon his ear,
With soft endearing tone,
And sighs, that I would die to share,
And breathe for him alone.
While I stand near with burning cheek,
And wildly throbbing heart,
Marking with bitter agony
My youth’s bright dreams depart.
The}’ know not that Hove him thus,
Nor shall they ever know,
I would not have the cold world read
My feelings, on my brow.
I still will wear a joyous smile,
Though joy itself be fled,
And none shall ever mark the trace
Os teara'in secret shed.
LIKES AND DISLIKES.
I dislike few things more than a hole in the
toe cf my stocking ; and would marry no wo.
man who would not pledge herself before hand
to keen them all stopped.
1 dislike the great deference paid to wealth
Vol. V—No. 34.
without merif. I think no more of a man I»r
being rich,
1 dislike a noisy, blustering, boisterous
( manner in a woman- It’s very tinladydike
j and ungenteel,' let fashion say what it will.
| I like a pretty, modest clean woman. I’m'
a great advocate for cleanliness—cleanliness
in every thing : a clean house—clean clothes 1
■ —clean eating—clean every thing.
Southern Literary Meitengeri
CHRISTMAS.
BY WASHINGTON HIVING.’
A man might then behold
At Christmas, in each hall,'
Good fires to curb the cold
And meat for great and small,
The neighbours were friendly bidden,'
And all had welcome true,
The poor from the gates were not chidden,'
When this old cap waa new.'
Old Son».
There is nothing in England that exercises
a more delightful spell over my imagination,
than the lingering of the holyday customs and
rural games of former times. They recall the
pictures my fancy used to draw in the May
morning of life, when as yet I only knew the
world through books, and believed it to be all
that poets had painted it; and they bring with
them the flavour of those ancient days of yore,
in which perhaps, with equal fallacy, I am apt
to think the world was more homebred, social,
and joyous than at present. I regret to say
that they are daily growing more and more
faint, being gradually worn away by time, but
still more obliterated b} modern fashion. They
resemble those picturesque morsels of Gothic
architecture which we see crumbling in various
parts of the country, partly dilapidated by the
waste of ages, and partly lost in the additions
and alterations of latter days. Poetry, howe
ver, clings with cherishing fondness about the
rural game and holyday revel, from which it
has derived so many of its themes—as the ivy
winds its rich foliage about the gothic arch
and mouldering tower, gratefully repaying
their support by clasping together their totter,
ing remains, and, as it were, embalming them
in verdure.
Os all the old festivals, however, that of
Christmas awakens the strongest and most
heartfelt associations. There is a tone of so.
lemn and sacred feeling that blends with our
conviviality, and lifts the spirit to a state of
hallowed and elevated enjoyment. The servi
ces of the church about this season are ex
iremely tender andas in spring : they dwell on
the beautiful story of the origin of our faith,
and the pastoral scenes that accompanied its
announcement : they gradually increase in
fervour and pathos during the season of Ad
vent, until they break forth in full jubilee on
the morning that brought peace and good-will
to men. I do not know a grander effect of
music on the moral feelings than to hear tho
full choir and the pealing organ performing a
Christmas anthem in a cathedral, and filling
every part of the vast pile with triumphant
harmony.
It is a beautiful arrangement, also, derived
from days of yote, that this festival, which
commemorates the announcement of the reli
gion of peace and love, has bi-eu made the sea
son for gathering together offamily connexions
and drawing closer again those bands of kin
dred hearts, which the cares nnd pleasures and
sorrows of the world are continually operating
to cast loose ; of calling back the children of
a family, who have launched forth into life, and
wandered wider assu.ider, once more to assem
ble about the paternal hearth, that rallying
place of the affections, there to grow young
and loving again among the endearing me
mentos of childhood.
There is something in the very season of
the year, which gives a charm to the festivity
of Christmas. At other times, we derive a
great portion of our pleasures from the mere
beauties of Nature. Our feelings sally forth
and dissipate iheiusvlves over the sunny land,
scaoe, and we “live abroad and every where.”
The song of the bird, the murmur ot tha
stream, the breathing fragrance of spring, the
soft voluptuousness of summer, the golden
pomp of autumn ; earth with its mantle ot re
freshing green, and heaven with its deep deli,
cions blue and its cloudy magnificence,—all
fill us with mute but exquisite delight, and wo
revel in the luxury of mere sensation. Btrt m
the depth of winter, when nature lies despoMad
ofevery charm, and wrapped in het shrotkl of
sheeted snow, weturn for our gratifications Co
moral sources. The dreariness andd» - 8"l«tion
of the landscape, the gloomy days and dark
some nights, while they circumscribe oirr wan
derings, shut in our feelings also from rambling
abroad, ant) make us more keenly disposed for
the pleasures of the social circle. Our
thoughts are more concentrated ; our friendly
sympathies more aroused. - We feel more reu
siblv the chai m of each other’s society,-and‘are
bro Jght more closely together by depeudenco
on each other for enjoyment, Heart calleth
unto heart, and we draw our pleasures from
deep wells of living kindness which' li'o ih tfto
quiet recesses of our bosoms; and which,
when resorted to, furnish*forth thu [Hire ele
ment of domestic felicity.-
The pitchy gloom without makes' tlwrhtsart
dilate on entering the filled with the
glow nnd warmth of the cVefting fire. The
ruddy blaze diffuses an artificial summer and
sunshine through the room, and lights up each
countenance into a kindlier welcome. Whvro
does the honest face <>f hospitality expand i«k»
a broader ami more cordial smite—wfiere tv
the shy glance of love more sweetly eloquent
—than by the winter fireside ? and as the hol
low blast of wintry wind rushes through the
hall,claps the distant ifowr, whistles abrntt th*
casement, and nrinblcs di.wn the chimney,
what can be more grateful than the feeling of
sober and sheltered security, with which we
look found upon the comfortable chamber, and
the scene of domestic, hilarity ! «
The English, from the great pi‘eValfen’o of
rural habits throughout every class of society,
have always been fond of those festivals and
holy days which agreeably interrupt tho still
ness of count i y life ; and they were in former
days particularly observant of the religions
and social rites of Christmas. It is inspiring
to read even the dry tfet.-rils whveh someanri
qttai ii's have given of the quaint humoure, the
burlesque pageants, the complete abandonment
to mirth and good fellowship, with which thio
festival was celebrated, It seemed to throw
open every door, and unlock every heart. It
brought the peasant and the peer together, and
blended all ranks into one warm, generous
flow of j>y and kindness. Tho old halls of
castles and in i >or. houses resounded with tho
harp and the Chtistnrts carol, and their ample
boards groaned under the weight of bn-qfiraltfy.