handed the cropped man a prayer-book, and swore him never again to follow the odious profession of tithe-proctor. The sallin-na-morra, or death-prayers, a patheticoludicrous chant, composed by the fiddler for such occasions, having been struck up by the composer, helped by all the horns present, and chorussed in terrific diapason by the whole body, the leader flung himself upon his horse. One sentinel was left at the grave, sworn upon the prayer-book already mentioned to release the buried alive within an hour. This done, the leader gave the word, Up and ram along!" for the retreat of his troop, whose wild hurrah testified their alacrity and triumph. They vaulted on their barebacked nags, and in a few minutes had completely vanished from that scene of bloody vengeance.

WHITE BOYS.-No. II. About fifty of these wild outlaws, says Mr. Banim, came one night to Peery Clancy's house. Each man wore over his clothes a white shirt, secured by the same belt in which two pistols were fastened, whilst a few who seemed their leaders had also slung to their backs, in addition to these, a large bullock-horn used for sounding signals. Ranging the main body about the house to prevent escape, the leader of the party, with three others, burst down the door and rushed in. The terrified proctor, the only object of their search, was dragged by the legs from under the bed whence he had just arisen.-" Isn't it a burnin' shame," "shouted one ruffian, "to see a responsible well-doin' body "like you go fur to hide yourself like a chree-chrawtha, "afther we comin' so far a journey to see you? Foch upon "you! to sarve your own cousins in sich a way in your Alas! that in their hour of bad triumph there was no "own house !" One mockery produced more, and amid voice to speak to them the warnings of their church! it all sat the wretched man stupified with hopelessness and In another of his truth-like tales, Mr. Banim has with horror. Twice he had been commanded to rise, but without wonderful effect contrasted the practices of these unhappy showing any sense of the words; nor was he roused from miscreants with the lessons of their pastors. Under Father his lethargy until the leader's whip was smartly applied O'Clery, in the novel of "John Doe," the famous Arthur to his shoulders, accompanied with the shrill words, "Come O'Leary, dear to every Catholic Irishman, is introduced "out for your tithing, Peery." Then with clasped hands upon the stage. We cannot resist the temptation of placing he cried for mercy, and struggled hard for freedom. But in juxtaposition with the foregoing narrative of White Boy the three men by main force succeeded in carrying him crimes his lofty Christian denunciation of the crimes of the out, and his cries called down new answers from their Shanavests, the undoubted successors of the White Boys: leader's whip. Outside the door the White Boys arranged" Men of blood and of outrage! what do ye here in unthemselves in order of procession. First came their "natural warfare? While even the birds of prey have fiddler, Bryan Fitzpatrick; Peery Clancy, on his own" cowered in their nests, why are you, alone, disturbers of pampered gelding, came next; then followed the leader," the sleep of the world-wanderers in darkness-intruders supported by the executioner on the left, and by another" on the deep slumber of the heath and the mountain? ruffian on his right. The rest were brought up by his " Why are ye away from your household hearths? those lieutenant in such order as he might. At the first move "hearths that are indeed chill and comfortless; but are they made, the fiddler began to play up to a wild bullock-" there none to be comforted round them? Hear ye not the horn accompaniment, varied by the loud shouting of the "cries of many ye have left helpless, rising in vain to you White Boys behind him, and the shrill screams of women," for help? Where are they, and what eye and hand are and the tiny pipes of children in the cabins which they" over them? Not perhaps the eye and hand that by all passed. In the field of punishment a grave for Peery's "breaches of command, heavenly and human, yourselves reception was dug close by the hedge. In this he was "have averted from them!" laid, and covered with loose earth to the chin, while the executioner busily sharpened upon a flat stone the broad blade of his pruning-knife. These arrangements being completed, he at last advanced towards his wretched victim. Well, we're all ready; an' it's a sweet bit of a blade "that's in you, for one knife; och, bud it isn't none of your blades that's fit for nothin' but cuttin' butther. I gi' you my conscience this holy an' blessed night, "twould take the horns iv a ten-year old bull, not to spake iv a poor proctor's ears, though them same does 'be hard enough, in regard of all the prayers they won't hear, an' all the lies they tell. Come, come, none o' your ochowns, Peery; don't be the laste unasy in "yoursef, agra. You may be right sartin I'll do the thing nate an' handy. Tut, man," in reply to a shrill scream, "I'd whip the ears iv a bishop, not to talk iv a "crature like you, a darker night nor this. Divil a taste "I'd lave him; an' wouldn't bring any o' the head wid "me neither. Musha, what ails you at all?" after he had half accomplished his task; you'd have a betther right to give God praise for gettin' into the hands iv a "cliver boy like me that-stop a bit now-that 'ud only "do his captain's orders, and not be lettin' the steel slip "from your ear across your windpipe, Lord save the "hearers stop, I say;-there now, wasn't that done purty?" as he tossed both ears up in his hand. Why, Peery," said another, "bear in mind that it's all fur the good o' your poor sowl we're so kind to you. Sure there's no doubt at all that the proctors, every mother's son o' "them, go sthraight ahead to the divil. But I'll be "bould to say that Peery Clancy that was buried, an' "Peery Clancy that'll be afther him, won't be the same "body at all at all, in regard that one had wings to his head, an' the t'other not one in the world. You won't "be the same man, only somebody else; an', more "betoken, the pinance o' this night 'ill be mighty good "fur you in the time to come. Take care o' yoursef there "avich." "Good night, Peery," said others, "an' sure "you have all the crop we can gi' you!" The leader then

66

66

66

66

66

66

Yet sore enough were the grievances which first drove them to rebellion and bloodshed. Others, and as sore ones, concurred to keep them from dissolving their unholy combinations. True it is that of these many had suffered far less than thousands of their fellows, who meekly kissed the rod that smote them, and repined not. But while we rejoice that such was the fact, and that so few Irishmen after all consented to Whiteboyism, let us deal tenderly with those who were weak, and yielded in the hour of their temptation. Great was that temptation! We see much justice in the last words of the outlaw, to whom and whose men Mr. O'Clery is supposed to have addressed the above rebuke. And as it appears to be a faithful summary, not only of the grievances which first called Whiteboyism into being, but also of others to which it afterwards learned to apply itself, we shall close this article with one more extract.

"When my government of these poor creatures is at an "end, spare them. Pity and spare the starving creature " who comes to you, Mr. Grace,* or to you, Mr. Somers,† "for whatever assistance the law's mercy allows against the "law's cruelty; or to you, Mr. O'Clery, for those comforts "or ceremonies that sanction the interchange of the poor "man's affection. Let not justice, humanity, or religion be "held out at a price too high for the poor man's purchase. "Let not Mammon sit at the right hand side of the coun"sellor or the judge, or kneel down within the pale of the " sanctuary. Amid all his trials, his wants, his oppres"sions, and his crimes, the wretch looks up to you for the " comfort and forbearance you have been sent to give-the help, the pardon and persuasion, instead of curses and “ exactions, and persecutions."

"

TALES OF TYNEDALE.-No. II.

A few days after the Quilter had made the promise quoted at the close of our last number, he was seated in state, that is to say at work, in the house of the late

* The landlord and lawyer.

†The parson and justice.

the words, 'He died a sacrifice for his rightful King.' They wad na' let him have his will in this, and so he cared na' how he was buried; but my lady had ta'en a house at Dagnam, and a faithful servant caught the Earl's head in a napkin as it fell frae the block, and the auld wife at Inglestone sewed it on to the body, and there can hardly be a doubt that the Earl's ghost walked about Dagnam, and was seen by many, till his body was sent to Dilston and buried in the chapel.

"It was thirty years after the Earl's death, and about ten years after Charles had left England, that the word passed about the rising in the north, the rebellion,' as they called it, of '45. Charles was then 53 years of age, and his son was about 20; but which should be foremost to join the Chevaleer' in Scotland was the only struggle between them. They sailed in the same ship frae France wi' scores of officers, both Scotch and Irish, that were panting to serve the young Prince who ventured so bravely into the lion's den for his family and his subjects. Ye may read in the books about Prince Charley; but for Charles Radcliffe-out and alas for him! The auld ill-luck was aye at his shouther; his heart was fu' of Courage, and the very ship he sailed in was the Hope; but neither hope nor courage could strengthen a French barque again' an English man-of-war: the gentlemen were taken prisoners before ever they got to Scotland, and, after years of liberty Charles Radcliffe was again committed, for high treason, to the Tower of London. He was 53; but he was as gallant and as gay as when he was 22, and just as ready to drink the true King's health in the false King's face, or to gi'e his jailors a supper, as ever he had been. But they didna' gie him a chance this time. He was arraigned, as they ca' it, on the 20th of November, as Charles Radcliffe, and he pleaded as Count de Derewent; so they were forced to set him aside till they could bring together a few Cuddy Myddletons to swear away his life. An auld friend of his-a fellow-prisoner when he was in Newgate after the '15-swore that Charles was the man he had shaved before the grand supper on the night he escaped. Three unlucky loons were smuggled up frae the north to swear to him. One swore that he had seen Charles Radcliffe at Dilston about ten years before, and had shown him a trap-door that led to a dungeon beneath the hall floor; another had carried a letter for him to Foster's fairy page, at the Fourstones, on the morning of the 6th Oct., 1715; and a third swore to him by a mark on his cheek, that he said Charles had got when a lad in a blacksmith's shop at Corbridge. He had been waiting for a shoe to his horse, and was marked in the cheek by a bit of hot iron struck off by the smith's hammer."

the 8th of December, 1746, he came down to the scaffold as if he was going to court. He was beautifully dressed in a scarlet coat, wi' short tight sleeves and lang wide cuffs, a lang flapped waistcoat brocaded wi' golden flowers on scarlet; baith the coat and the waistcoat were quilted in wi' black velvet guarded wi' gold; he had white silk stockings rolled down above his knee, and diamond buckles at his shoes and garters. His high-crowned hat was decked with a fine white feather, and a perruque made of his own bright hair, fell in full curls on his shoulders. He looked on that last day of '45 as he did on the first day of '15: met the headsman with a courtly smile, as coolly as he had met the Elector's general, Carpenter; took his place on the scaffold as if he was again at Felton Brig; spoke to the people as he would ha' bid good night to his bairns; laid down his head and fell asleep."

"There had been a sair change for the worse in Lonnon between the '15 and the '45. When Charles cried 'Long live King James,' there was nane to cry God bless him;' when he said Bless the King's Majesty,' there was nane to say Amen.' His head was held up as the head of a traitor, and there was a loud shout; his body was stolen away by his friends, and carried to a place called Gray's Inn; frae that it was smuggled into the Red Lion Square, where Cromwell's bones are even noo' lying in unconsecrated ground, and there a great mob was gathered, and they wadna' let the body be buried in St. Giles's churchyard because it was the body o' a Papist! Oh, the poor ignorant deluded wretches, that called themselves enlightened! But the Government, that taught them to cry No Popery,' were glad to cry 'No mob' before mony years passed away; and so they may be again, if they try the same trick o'er often."

Was the body buried in St. Giles's?

"The books will tell you that it was, but I say again, you manna' mind the books: they're weel enough to tell the days and the years, but they canna' speak about men like the living voice that learned from the living voice of them that saw what they said, and knew what to think about it. The warld will never ken what the warld has lost by confounding the day-book wi' the ledger;' that's to say, history wi' tradition. What will the auld men of this generation be able to tell to the young men o' the next, except the names o' the books and the newspapers, that register lies because they canna' take time to seek for truth? The body of Charles Radcliffe was not buried at St. Giles's, except by a fause entry; and, if ever the vault at Dilston chapel be opened, it'll be found that the Earl of Derwentwater lies in his coffin wi' his head sewed on to his neck, and his brother Charles's head and heart 'Every man o' them was forsworn; and there was not will be found in a box not far from the Earl's coffin,† one of them that was not visited wi' a singular judgment. The hearse was brought a few miles out o' Lonnon, but the The jailbird of a barber cut his throat in the room called Radcliffes' friends couldna' escape the rage of the bigots, the Castle, in Newgate, with a razor that he had stolen and the body was buried at night in consecrated ground, from Charles Radcliffe. Harry Dobson got drunk at the and wi' a' due ceremonies, at Stansted Abbot; two servants Bull, in Hexham, staggered into Dilston Hall, and, falling of the Earl of Newburgh coming north wi' the head down a trap-door, died horribly in the dungeon which and the heart. You'll no find that in the books, but it's he swore he had shown to Charles Radcliffe. Willy as true as that perjury was punished in the false witBlake died at the Fourstones, stabbed by his ain sweet-ness,' and that loyalty and fidelity embalm the memory heart, who was brought there by a forged letter when Blake was kissing a stranger; and Wiry haired Robin Carr was burned to death in a house he had built on the verra spot where the blacksmith's shop had stood that he had falsely sworn about."

And were these men forsworn?

These were curious coincidences, certainly. "Let every Judas hang himsel' on an elder-tree. They were singular judgments, strange signs of Heaven's anger against false swearing, and betraying of innocent blood.” If your doctrine were quite correct, Joe, might not the violent deaths of the Radcliffes prove them

"Oh, martyrs, martyrs! they were martyrs to faith and loyalty. Charles Radcliffe never slept better than he did the night before he was to sleep with death on the morHe never wrote mair beautiful words, or wi' mair noble sentiments, than in his last letter to his wife.*

row.

On

*The following is the letter to which the Quilter refers. It is extracted from a clever sketch of the History of Dilston Hall,

of the Earl's brother."

drawn up by Mrs. Gray, of that place, for the second series of Howitt's "Visits to Remarkable Places."

From the Tower, Dec. 7, 1746.

The best of friends takes his leave of you. He has made his will, he is resigned. To-morrow is the day-love his memory let his friends join with you in prayer-'tis no misfortune to die prepared-let's love our enemies and pray for them. Let my sons be men like me-let my daughters be virtuous women like you. My blessing to them all-my kind love to Fanny, that other tender mother of my dear children. Adieu, dear friend. DERWENTWater.

prediction, and, though the matter has not been very accurately reported, there is reason to believe that the correctness of old Joe's version was demonstrated.

The vault has been opened more than once since the Quilter's

London: Printed by PALMER and CLAYTON, 10, Crane-court, Fleetstreet; and published by GEORGE DISMORE, at the Office of the TRUE TABLET, 6, Catherine-street, Strand; whither all communications must be sent, addressed (prepaid) to FREDERICK LUCAS, the sole Editor and Proprietor.

SIR GALAHAD.-PART I. we think it an improvement. The most spiritual and the It is a pious tradition of the least earthly of the two schools was certainly the contemChurch, that, when St. Joseph of plative. Its bards, like Mary, their prototype, "chose the Arimathea and Nicodemus had better part." In perusing the long historical and chivalwashed the Saviour's body, they rous romance called "Morte d'Arthur," printed by old collected the water and the clotted Caxton in 1485, and compiled from much older sources, we blood into a vase; which, after they have been always glad to pass out of the wearisome details had laid Him in the new tomb, of battles and duels and outrages, which were evidently the they carried homeward with great additions of corrupter days, and to come again upon some reverence. They transmitted the time-honoured episode of genuine knighthood. Wherever precious deposit to their children the Sangreal makes its appearance that is certainly such an -the faithful of Jerusalem-and episode. This is especially true of the story of St. Galathese intrusted it to their patri- had, comprised in the 13th and 17th books inclusive, and archs for safe keeping. It was ac- entitled, "The noble tale of the Sancgreal, that called is counted the most precious of their" the Holy Vessel, and the signification of the Blessed relics. During the whole course "Blood of our Lord Jesu Christ; Blessed mote It be! of the Ages of Faith great was its "the which was brought into this land by Joseph of Arrenown, and innumerable were the "mathye. Therefore, on all sinful souls, Blessed Lord legends of which it became the "have thou mercy." From those books and Dr. Southey's subject. notes we shall endeavour to give our readers some notion of this beautiful prose poem.

Galahad was the son of the renowned knight Sir Launcelot of the Lake, and his mother was fair Elayne, the daughter of Pelles, King of the foreign country, and by descent cousin nigh unto Joseph of Arimathea, a great saint, who had died in Britain four hundred winters and more before Galahad was born. Now Sir Launcelot had not seen his son from his childhood. So it fell upon a day that twelve nuns belonging to an abbey, where Sir Launcelot was, brought to him Galahad, whom they had nourished there, and prayed him to make him knight. Howbeit they told not who he was. So on the morn at prime he made him knight, and Launcelot departed from him and came to Winchester, where King Arthur then kept court. Then came a squire and said unto the King, "Sir, there is be"neath the river a great stone, which I saw float above the water, and therein saw I sticking a sword." So the King and his knights went to see that marvel. And they saw a floating stone like red marble, and therein stuck a fair rich sword, and in the pommel precious stones wrought with subtle letters of gold. Then the nuns read the letters, which said, "Never shall man take me hence, but only he " by whom I ought to hang, and he shall be the best knight " of the world." "Fair Sir," said King Arthur to Sir Launcelot, "this sword ought to be yours, for I am sure "that ye be the best knight of the world." But Sir Launcelot answered soberly,Sir, it is not my sword." And none of the knights could stir it from the stone. Then the King went back to the court, and his knights with him, and sat them to their dinner in the great hall. And Sir Launcelot said, "This same day shall the adventures of the Sangreal, that is called the Holy Vessel, begin."

In that age of beauty and sweetness, which we now call the Middle Age, the holy tradition briefly above commemorated was the inexhaustible material of minstrels and of bards. Our own island, which gloried in having been the scene of St. Joseph's apostolic labours, was the first to set the example. The charming Eastern poem called "The Gospel of Nicodemus" became the basis of its fellow legend of that of Joseph of Arimathea. The first European translation of the former was into the Welsh tongue. But the Anglo-Saxons soon followed the example of the Cambrians, and made it the popular legend of England. The Bodleian Library at Oxford has many manuscript translations of this legend; one is a metrical version of the year 1300. The prose translation was printed at London seven times in the first half of the 15th century, and Erasmus found in Canterbury Cathedral a copy chained to a pillar for the use of the common folk. But, subsequently to its first appearance in our island, that poem combined itself, as we have said, with the poem of Joseph of Arimathea. With this version were also incorporated the Welsh tradition of the glories of King Arthur and his Christian knights. To the simple tradition of the mission of St. Joseph to these shores, there came to be added a new incident,-built, doubtless, on the well-founded tradition of the holy relic which he and Nicodemus bare with them from our Saviour's precious Burial. It became now the favourite pastime of British minstrels to recount the marvellous manner in which their apostle possessed himself of the holy cup which Christ had used at the institution of the Eucharist, and into which some drops had been received of the precious blood that flowed on Calvary. This holy cup, designated the Sangreal or Saintgraal, had been carried into Britain by St. Joseph of Arimathea, and it remained Then came in a good old man, clothed all in white, and there after his death. To none but the clean of heart was no knight knew from whence he came; and with him young it visible; from all others it was a hidden thing. Let the Sir Galahad, in red arms, without sword or shield, save a knight that would prove himself go in quest of it! If he scabbard hanging by his side. And he said, "Peace be were indeed a stainless knight, his quest would be honoured" with you, fair lords!" Then said the old man unto with success; if not, let him know himself, and do penance Arthur, that the young knight was of Kings' lineage, and for his sin, and renew his quest once more! Such is the of the kindred of Joseph of Arimathea, whereby the marburden of all the ballads of the Sangreal which obtained in vels were to be fully accomplished, whereat the King was the pure days of chivalry. At a later period, when corrup- right glad. Anon the old man led the young knight untions began to abound, this noble element of poesy was armed to the Seat Perilous, beside of Sir Launcelot, wheremuch choked and often displaced by the rank growth of on was a cloth, and he lifted it, and found there golden sensualism. Yet, even in the most degenerate days of letters which did say, "This is the seat of Galahad the high knighthood, the Sangreal never lost its popularity. Nei-" prince." Then he sat him down surely in the Seat Perilther was admiration for its nobleness confined to the shores which gave it birth. The Britain of the Sangreal became the Holy Land of Christendom. In France, Spain, Germany, and Italy, the Sangreal and the Round Table became as popular as in Britain, but with the combination of Then the King took him by the hand and went down new elements. The Sangreal, such as our bards had made from the palace, and showed him the stone where it hoved it, was a mystic allegory, admirably adapted to the contem- on the water. "Sir," said Galahad, "this adventure is plative soul. The legends of Charlemagne and Roland," mine, and for the surety of this sword brought I none with on the other hand, were tales of action and energy; and these the foreign imitators of the Sangreal engrafted on the other, so as to suit it to the more stirring and fiery spirits for whom they waked their minstrelsy. We cannot say that

"

ous, and all the Knights of the Table Round marvelled greatly, and said, "This is he by whom the Sangreal shall "be achieved." And then it was made known to Sir Launcelot how that Galahad was his own son.

66

Ime; for here hangeth by my side the scabbard." And he laid his hand on the sword and lightly drew it out of the stone and put it in the sheath. Then came there to the King a message from a holy hermit, that that day the