NO I. SCENES AND INCIDENTS IN AMERICAN HISTORY. throw the gauntlet of defiance in the teeth of England, wards bacame Chief Justice of the United States, and exclaim, "WE MUST FIGHT! I REPEAT IT, SIR, WE Mason, the sage, Pendleton, Grayson, Randolph (then MUST FIGHT; an appeal to arms, and to the God of hosts, Governor of the State), Juness, the State Attorneyis all that is left us." This was uttered on the occa- General, and many other luminaries of lesser note. sion above referred to, in a speech made in defence of Here also was Patrick Henry, who, fearing that the Act, and urging resistance to the arrogant usurpations of the Chief Magistrate, raised his voice against it. of the British ministry. "Tis vain, Sir, to extenuate Of the one hundred and sixty-eight members then prethe matter," said he. "Gentlemen may cry Peace! sent who voted on the measure, there was only a maPeace! but there is no peace. The war is actually jority of two in favor of it. begun. The next gale which sweeps from the North will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms. Our brethren are actually in the field. Why stand we here idle? What is it that gentlemen wish? What the romantic it a of Stamp Constitution vested DEPLETE as is the history of our country with often been a matter of surprise to us that no one has yet been found to collate and give them in an attractive form, disconnected and separated from the great amount of statistical, documentary, and diplomatic adjuncts, which go to make up the larger portion of general History, and render its perusal so tedious to the common-place reader. The great mass of our traditional history is rapidly being lost to us, as one by one those grey-haired veterans of a passed day and generation are taken from us, and posterity will look in vain for some of the most interesting reminiscences of bygone days. So rapid, too, has been our growth, and so gigantic the development of our energies, that the landmarks of our National History are fast disappearing before the grasping hand of Mammon, and the march of improvement; and our children will yet reprove our overweening love for the almighty dollar, by asking in vain for those relics, which, for their sakes, we ought to cherish with our most valued birthrights. No subject can be more popular among the mass of American readers than the narrative of the sufferings and privations which our Fathers passed through, to bequeathe to their children those inestimable blessings we now enjoy. With the hope, therefore, that the great majority of our readers will be as much gratified in the perusal, as we have been in the compilation thereof, we shall, from time to time, present them with a series of articles under the above caption, which, when complete, will form a valuable collection of National historical incidents. We have no data in regard to the period of time when the hall was first used as a Church. With the exception, however, of the tower, which is modern, the building remains much the same as it was when the St. John's Church, Richmond, Va. would they have? Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as I had a finer cnase. thrilling eloquence of Henry echoed within its walls. It stands upon what is known as Church Hill, about a mile below the Capitol; and a stroll among the venerable graves and embowering shrubbery which surround it, will amply repay the visitor, independent of the beautiful view from the southern slope of the hill, and the historical reminiscences connected with the church. A CHASE ACROSS THE PAMPAS.--We now entered upon the plains, where, for the first time, I saw wild deer and ostriches; and here we enjoyed a glorious chase. We were going at rather a gentle pace, when we came upon a herd of deer; they did not appear to take much notice of us, until we were near enough for them to hear the mare's bell, the sound of which attracted their notice for they turned their heads, and stood with ears erect, and their bits of tail stiff with expectation. We gave a long tallyho, which sent off both horses and deer at a killing pace, and being compelled, nolens volens, to keep up with them, we seemed as if in full chase of a troop of wild colts. It was most princely sport; Nimrod himself never The cattle on the estancia cleared out, leaving a broad open space for our coursers, and for a long distance we followed, at full speed, a quarry composed of colts, deer, and ostriches. Storks, turkeybuzzards, and countless flocks of birds, poised on their wings, as if astonished at the unwonted sight. At length the ostriches and deer parted company, and we very gladly saw our tropilla slackening their pace. It reminded me of a superstition amongst the natives; almost every night, at about the same hour, it is said, all the dogs in the country commence a most melancholy howling, as if they were lamenting the dead; and the natives say that this occurs when some spirit rides past on his nightly rounds, mounted on a wild colt, and driving a troop of horses before him. When the host asks, "Will you have any more wine, gentlemen ?" you may take it as a pretty broad sign that you are expected to " go up-stairs and join the ladies," and that his next speech will be, if not in those very words, very nearly to that effect LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND. BY J. F. SMITH, ESQ. Author of "Stanfield Hall," "Minnie Grey," &c. at the age of seventeen; as third lady of realm, she | How beautiful in its devotion-how strong in its diswas dowered upon the royal domains; but love levels interestedness-is the sentiment of maternity in the all distinctions, and Richard Woodville, a young esquire in her late husband's household, considered at the time as the handsomest man in the kingdom, won her heart whilst employed in the honorable office of soon after they were privately married. ELIZABETH WOODVILLE, QUEEN CONSORT escorting the widow of his late master to England, and OF EDWARD IV. IT has been frequently observed that truth is stranger than fiction. In the sketches of the lives of the Queens of England, which we are about to introduce to our readers, we doubt not but that we shall be able to prove that history is more interesting than romance; for we know of no subject so likely to excite the sympathy of the young-lead them to the study of the domestic manners and customs of their fathers-instruct the mind, and elevate the heart, as the one we have selected for our task. The history of woman is the history of civilization; for if her gentle influence, delicate perception of the true and beautiful, gradually softened the manners and refined the habits of the noble in his hold, the citizen in his burgh, and the boor in his rude hut, how much greater must that influence have been when exercised from the elevation of a throne. Whilst the pages of the old chroniclers and monkish writers are filled with the exploits, wars of aggrandisement and succession, politics or dissensions, which marked the reigns of our English monarchs, but little notice comparatively has been taken of their consorts; the names of many of them are unknown to the general reader, and yet their chequered lives present a page as full of adventure, love, sorrow, and suffering, as any which the imagination of the romancist has created. It is only from rusty records, long-forgotten treatises, and family archives that materials for their history can be found. Like the pearl seeker, we must sift the sand to find the gems. In painting the literary portraits of these illustrious ladies, we shall adhere with scrupulous fidelity to history. But at the same time we claim the artist's privilege to arrange the material we have found after our own guise; so that the likeness be a faithful one, true taste will never quarrel with the accessories which the painter throws into the picture. ELIZABETH WOODVILLE is supposed to have been born in the year 1431-we say supposed, for there is no certainty upon the point. Her mother, a princess of the house of Luxembourg, had originally been married to the warlike Duke of Bedford, who left her a widow The duchess's dower was forfeited on the discovery of her marriage, but on her petition to Parliament it was restored. Grafton Castle was her principal residence, and here Elizabeth was born some years before her mother's marriage was made public; hence the uncertainty as to the date of her birth On the death of Queen Catherine, who had espoused a simple Welsh gentleman named Owen Tudor, and the Queen-Dowager Joanna, the Duchess of Bedford, as the wife of Richard Woodville was still styled, became the first lady in England, and remained so till the arrival of the unfortunate Margaret of Anjou, the queen of Henry VI., through whose influence she caused her husband to be created first baron, and finally Earl Rivers. Her lovely daughter Elizabeth was named maid of honor to her majesty about the same time. heart of woman! At its voice the widowed heart subdues the throbbings of its agonies-the feeble find energy-the desolate hope. What the youthful widow in all probability would have lacked courage to attempt even for herself, she accomplished for her childrenthe restoration of the confiscated inheritance of Bradgate. On hearing that Edward IV., the youthful heir of the house of York-and confessedly one of it, if not the handsomest man in his dominions-was hunting in Whittlebury Forest, in the immediate neighborhood of Grafton, she resolved to present herself before him, and implore his commiseration for her children. Tradition still marks the spot where she waited for the approach of the gallant monarch. Holding her fatherless boys by the hand, she stood under the shelter of a magnificent oak, whose hollow trunk-known by the name of the Queen's Oak--remains even to the present day, a record and a witness of the past. We can well imagine the young king, in the full pride of manhood, attended by a train of youthful nobles, startled in the full ardor of the chase by the beautiful apparition before him. Tradition has not left The first lover of the future Queen of England was us the exact words in which the widowed lady addressed a valiant knight, Sir Hugh Johns, who had greatly dis- him; and what imagination can supply a mother's elotinguished himself in the wars in France. But how- quence! Perhaps some of his more prudent courtiers ever brave as a soldier, he was but a timid wooer, and whispered in his ear the impolicy of listening to her employed the intercession of the Duke of York, pro- prayer; but the beauty of the pleader, the romance of tector of the kingdom, and Richard Neville, Earl of the interview, had more power over the amorous heart Warwick, better known as the King-maker. Two sin- of Edward than all their prudent suggestions. If for gular letters are still extant, in which the above-named an instant he turned aside-it was but for an instant powerful nobles recommended the suit of the amorous-the imploring look, the mute entreaty of her tearful knight to the fair Mistress Woodville. Doubtless the eye fascinated him, and the prayer of the petitioner lady had other suitors, but history is silent respecting was granted. Bradgate was restored to her children, them. and the first gleam of sunshine her widowed heart had known gladdened the mourning supplicant. Few women admire a bashful lover; they prefer a bold, frank-spoken gallant who can plead for himself. The young maid of honor, although of royal descent, had no taste to be wooed by proxy. Sir Hugh was formally rejected, and the hand he so vainly sought was bestowed upon John Gray, the heir of the house of Ferrers of Groby, and possessor of the ancient domain of Bradgate, a noble family attached to the Lancasterian party. Elizabeth bore her husband, who succeeded to the title of Lord Ferrers by the death of his father, in 1457, two sons, both of them born at Bradgate. During the war of the roses, Lady Ferrers accompanied her youthful husband in his campaigns, till he fell mortally wounded at the battle of St. Albans, where he commanded the cavalry. According to the chroniclers of the period, he was a gallant general, and contributed materially to the victory by his personal courage on that memorable occasion. On the downfall of the house of Lancaster, the victorious Yorkists confiscated the possessions of the belpless widow, who, with her two infants, found a refuge in Grafton Castle, the dower of her mother, where she remained in the deepest retirement, mourning the loss of the lover of her youth and father of her children, as woman mourns the extinction of the first dreams of the heart-the clouding of the sunlight of her existence Not only was the suit obtained, but with it the heart of the conqueror. The Dowager Duchess of Bedford, the mother of Elizabeth, was one of the cleverest women of the age. So successful was she in her undertakings, that men attributed to sorcery that which was only the result of experience, tact, and great strength of mind. It was not the first time that the same accusation had been brought against the members of the house of Luxembourg, whose head occupied the imperial throne. They were supposed to have been descended and inherited their magical power from a pretended ancestress, Melusina, a nymph of the Rhine. The tradition was universally believed in Germany, where many of the princes of the family have a serpent-the device of the fabled nymph-in their blazon. The experienced matron was no sooner made acquainted with her daughter's conquest, than she took the direction of affairs into her own hands. Edward, there is little doubt, would have possessed the fair widow on his own terms; but she spiritedly repulsed him, by showing that, if not good enough to be his wife, she was still too good to be his mistress. Her beauty, modest deportment, and gentle resistance to his impetuous passion, as the clever mother had calculated, so increased his love, that it vanquished all other considerations, and he offered her his hand. The marriage, which was secret, was solemnized at Grafton, near Stony Stratford, on the first of May, 1464. None was present but the Duchess of Bedford, the priest, two gentlewomen, and a young man to help the priest to sing. Leading her to the throne amidst the silence of the assembled peers, the king waited till she was seated; when he advanced to the council table, and addressed them: "My good lords," he said, "I here present you my Secret as were the visits of the youthful husband to lawful wedded wife, Queen-consort of England, to reGrafton, the rumor of his marriage soon became whis-ceive your homage and congratulations. If any busy pered at court. Amongst the personages most offended malcontent, objects that her lineage is inferior to mine, by it were the king's mother, the proud Duchess of be it remembered that her mother is of the imperial York, and the famous Earl of Warwick; both of house of Luxemburg; and if the Duchess of Bedford whom exerted their influence over the mind of Edward was thought sufficiently noble to wed the brother of to prevent its being acknowledged His betrothment Henry V., I see no good and sufficient reason why her to Lady Eleanor Butler, the daughter of the great daughter should not be my helpmate. But be that as Earl of Shrewsbury, was urged as a reason to invali- it may-it is too late now to consider the question. She is my true and loving queen; and, by God's help and my good sword, I will maintain her such, against all gainsayers." date the union. It is impossible to say how far their intrigues might have succeeded, had the prudent Duchess of Bedford given time for the king's passion for her daughter to cool. By her advice, the yet unacknowledged queen presented herself before her husband, arrayed in the dress in which he first beheld her, and, falling on her knees, prayed permission to retire to a religious house. "A religious house, Bessy!" repeated the kingfor that was the name by which, according to the poet Skelton, Edward was accustomed to call her in the moments of endearment-"What, in the name of our lady, hath put such thoughts into thy heart?" "Alas! sweet prince and lord," replied the well-tutored Elizabeth, "mine enemies prevail. Even in the palace of my husband I am looked upon as a wanton; instead of being treated like the first of English ma In the timid grateful glance of the beautiful Elizabeth, the chivalrous monarch received the best reward for his generous resolution. Casting a haughty look of defiance towards Warwick, he called to the attendants to throw open the great doors at the lower end of the hall, that every one might witness the solemn recognition of her majesty by the council. His command was obeyed, and the assembled nobles saw that the ante-chamber was filled with armed men, devoted partizans of the house of York. 66 Long live the queen! broke from the crowd of idlers. "Death to her enemies." tion, had it ever been in his power, in all likelihood he would have fulfilled. The arrival of this petty sovereign prince, and his train of knights, answered a double purpose. It served to convince the nation that, by the mother's side, at least, the new-made queen came of a princely race; and to force obedience, should any opposition occur, either from the nobles or citizens, to her being recog nised as queen-consort of the realm, Edward regularly paid the count for his attendance, and the knights who accompanied him as well, as he would have done any other noble or gentleman engaged in his service-the manners of the age permitting such mercenary arrangements. Fortunately all passed over without opposition. The queen was solemnly crowned on the day appointed, at Westminster, in the presence of the principal nobility of the realm. All for the present, seemed fair; but the storm was gradually gathering in the distance, whose bursting was to drive her husband from his throne, and Elizabeth to claim sanctuary in the precincts of the very church where she had been annointed Queen-consort of England. trons, my name is made a sport of by those who should who bore the title, approached the throne, and, kissing minster in 1446, and who was christened Eliza respect me!" "Name them!" exclaimed the incensed monarch, at the same time swearing the usual oath of the Plantagenets, that they should rue it in every vein of their false hearts. "Name them, ladybird!" The hint was not thrown away. First, Thomas Howard, Duke of Norfolk, the second of that family the hand of Elizabeth, did her homage. Westmoreland, Rivers, Kent, and other peers, followed in succession. At last, the haughty Earl of Warwick, the wily King-maker, as he was properly called, seeing that resistance would be useless, wisely took his part, But the fair suppliant was too prudent for that; her and proffered his congratulations with a grace which only reply was tears and sighs-woman's true arms touched the heart of Edward; although there is little when she would mould the man who loves her to her doubt, but, at the very instant he did so, his subtle will. Her distress only augmented her beauty in the brain engendered the scheme of vengeance which afeyes of her loving husband; clasping her in his arms terwards plunged England in all the horrors of a civil passionately, he kissed away her tears, and vowed war, drove Edward for awhile from his throne, and that very day should end all uncertainty upon the obliged his queen to claim the only protection which subject. in those lawless times could effectually interpose be"Go, Bessie!" he said; return to thy chamber; ar-tween power and its victim-the church. ray thyself in cloth of state and ermine; bid thy tirewoman deck thee like a queen-for, by my halidome, before the sun is four-and-twenty-hours older, thou shalt be acknowledged such, or many a proud heart" shall be laid low for it!" Elizabeth, now all smiles and gladness, took leave of her royal husband, but not before with a disinterestedness, real or pretended, which only charmed him the more, and confirmed his resolution-she had entreated him not to weigh her wishes and sufferings against his own security. "Fear not, Bessie," he replied, as he led her to the door of the royal closet, and kissed her on the cheek; "it is time we broke our leading strings!" This was in allusion to the powerful Earl of Warwick, the chief opponent of the public acknowledgment of his marriage, to whose influence Edward was principally indebted for the possession of his throne. No sooner had Elizabeth departed, than Edward summoned his younger brother, the Duke of Clarence to his presence, and commanded him, as soon as the council should be assembled to surround the chamber with armed men, and see that the posts were doubled, -a direction which the prince proceeded to comply with. The matrimonial episode which we have endeavored to describe, occurred at an early hour on the morning of Michalemas Day, 1464, in the ancient Palace of Reading, where the young king had for some time held his court. A council of peers had that very day been convoked there. Amongst them were the Duke of Norfolk, the Earls of Shrewsbury, Rivers, Kent, and Warwick. The peers had been some time assembled in the council chamber, waiting the arrival of the king. Warwick was in the act of addressing them upon the subject of his marriage, when the doors were thrown open, and Edward, leading Elizabeth by the hand, entered the assembly. Her majesty wore a crown of rich jewels, ornamented with the fleur-de-lis, upon her head; beneath it her golden hair fell in many curls down her back; in the only authentic report extant of her, it is represented as reaching to her knees. Her dress was of purple and gold, with a train bordered with ermine. With the accession of Warwick, all idea of opposition to the recognition of the marriage ceased; the earl and Edward embraced; and a general cry of Long live the queen!" "Long live the queen!" broke from the whole assembly. HE birth of a daughter, who was born at Westbeth, after her mother, consolidated the influence of the queen over the heart of Edward. Proud of having given an heiress to the throne, her imprudence knew no bounds-she even ventured to offend the all-powerful Earl of Warwick, who had already so many causes of complaint against her, by marrying her eldest son, by Sir John Grey, to the heiress of the Duke of Exeter, although the lady had been long affianced to the nephew of the man who had placed the crown upon her husband's brow. This anxious desire to enrich her family rendered the queen extremely unpopular in England, where the name of Woodville was universally execrated. But the crowning folly of all was the refusal of the king's assent to the marriage of his brother Clarence with the daughter of the Earl of Warwick-the Lady Isabel, to whom Edward himself, there is every reason to suppose, at one time had been affianced. That same day, Elizabeth was conducted by her The storm which had so long been gathering at a brother-in-law, the Duke of Clarence to the Abbey of distance, at last broke out in Yorkshire, where the peoReading, and was there publicly declared queen, the ple rose under the command of Robin Ridsdale-a members of the council and principal nobility attend-name which concealed an exiled noble devoted to the ing her. Lancashire cause. At the tournaments and fêtes which took place on the king's marriage being thus publicly acknowledged, the new queen presided, attended by her mother and several of her unmarried sisters, whom the crafty old duchess, with her daughter's assistance, soon, how-making, their way through the forest of Dean. The ever, contrived to mate with the richest nobility in the land. Margaret Woodville married the heir of the Earl of Arundel, Catharine, the Duke of Buckingham, Jaquetta, the Earl of Kent; and her majesty's eldest brother wedded, for her great wealth, the Dowager Duchess of Norfolk, then in her eighty-first year, an alliance which rendered the queen more unpopular with the ancient nobility than even her own marriage and unexpected elevation had done. Warwick and Clarence withdrew themselves from court, and finally appeared in arms against the king, whose troops they defeated at Edgecote. The day after the battle, a couple of fugitives were elder, a man about sixty, still retained marks of great personal beauty! His companion, who was in the first pride of manhood, strongly resembled him. They were father and son-Sir Richard Woodville, high treasurer of England, father of the Queen, and her eldest brother John. "What is to be done!" demanded the old man, who for the last hour had been urging his jaded steed to proceed; "our pursuers gain upon us, and we have little mercy to expect if we fall into their hands.” Previous to the coronation of Elizabeth, which was appointed to take place in the Royal Abbey at Westminster, on the 25th of May, Edward employed all his influence with Charles the Bold, Duke of Burgundy, to induce the warlike potentate to send a sovereign prince of the house of Luxemberg to England, to as-ters where the gnarled oak falls, so the green sapling sist at the ceremony, in order to convince the citizens of London, and the people, that the queen came of a royal house. His negotiations were successful. Ten days before the coronation, the Count of St. Pol, great uncle of Elizabeth, attended by a hundred knights and their esquires, landed in England, to the great contentment of the king and the intriguing Duchess of Bedford, who, ever since her marriage with Richard Woodville, had been disowned by her indignant relatives. In fact, this very Count of St. Pol, whose arrival caused her so much joy, had publicly declared, that if ever he caught his niece or her husband in France, he would wipe out the stain in their blood,-a threat which, from his well-known pride and cruel disposi "Take my steed, father, and fly!" said the young man; "he is still fresh enough to bear you from the reach of your enemies." "No, John-no!" replied the knight; "little matescapes the shock. It has arrived as I predicted. Your mother's pride and sister's weakness have raised us fões in every county and shire of England.' "They will not dare to" "Tut!" interrupted his parent; "what will not men dare to do, with arms in their hands and evil passions in their hearts? Warwick has never forgiven the disappointment of his ambitious hopes of seeing his daughter Isabel Queen of England; Clarence, his brother's unwise refusal of his marriage-a marriage," added the speaker, "that might have healed all, had Elizabeth and her mother but yielded to it." "Perhaps it is not too late!' observed the son. Continued on page 39. IT OUR FASHION DEPARTMENT. the person who composed the dress for another place In Paris a love of the fine arts enters every depart T is our determination to render the Fashion De-ment of domestic and fashionable life. There, genius partment of The New York Journal complete beyond anything hitherto attempted in this country Letters from Paris, half French and half English, we do not consider all that is desirable for an American lady. With quick perceptions of the beautiful, and no inconsiderable originality, our Fashions, like all things else, should have a degree of nationality. Like all the world, our models must for a long time be taken from Paris, but their adoption and adaptation should be regulated by taste purely American. In the ball-room and parlor, American ladies compare favorably with the best attired French women in like situations. But there has been a want of judgment in adopting foreign fashions for carriage and street-dresses which render us objects of just criticism to transatlantic travellers. Our street and car and taste are not the hand-maids of wealth, but wealth tive perceptions of the beautiful in all those avenues, We cannot remain mere copyists, and if we could, without that thorough cultivation which produces originality, it is impossible to copy the most beautiful thing well. While we gather all that is most graceful riage dresses are too much alike. While a degree of and worthy of imitation from abroad, it will be our obrichness and elegance, approaching full dress, is desir-ject to excite ideas of originality, to cultivate our naable for the carriage, good taste would render the promenade costume simple and neat in the extreme. It is not a mark of refinement when a lady appears in Broadway, or any other public thoroughfare, sweeping the pavements with the rich brocade or velvet of a demi train. There is a sense of unfitness which is incompatible with refinement-a palpable proof of extravagance, which no well educated person can ever witness with pleasure, even in our own land, which is beginning to be celebrated for its reckless waste of money. There is no country in which the national taste so nearly approaches that of Paris as America. The English are too ponderous, too purely national, ever to obtain that graceful elegance which we so readily adopt. The greatest evil among us is a preference for expense over simple elegance-a desire to dazzle by the richness of our attire, rather than charm by its grace. While we intend to render a full and detailed account of every shade and change of fashion, our July, of course, finds the fashionable world in tis- to five, as the taste may demand. These For visiting toilets, silk is usually worn. dresses are made lower than formerly at the throat. The French woman never falls into this mistake; and black lace, where those materials are admissible. The corsage is open in front, and edged with velvet she selects that which is most becoming to her com- The waists are still slightly pointed in front, and plexion, form, and style, and thus always appears fresh as a rose and graceful as a cloud; by a cultivated basques remain in fashion, richly edged with lace. Pagoda sleeves slashed three or four times, edged with taste she secures to herself all the fascinations of lace and garnished with bows of riband, usually acbeauty without the reality. Brought up among companying the basques. Scarf mantillas of silk, objects of the highest art, allowed free range in the tulle or lace, or the first and last materials interminnoble picture galleries of Paris, she imperceptibly blends the inspirations gathered there with the adorn-gled, are among the most graceful garments worn. Bonnets are worn smaller than last month, and ments of her person, and with her, dress really bemade of the most transparent material. The crowns comes one of the fine arts. are round, leaning far back, almost upon the wearer's It is this which gives the Parisian ladies a reputa-neck, and a favorite trimming is formed of the most tion for beauty which few of them possess. With our delicate perception of the beautiful, added to the exquisite style of female loveliness to be found everywhere in our own country, and there alone, the reputation which the women of America now enjoy as among the most beautiful, would be enhanced a hundred fold. It is not that our milliners and dressmakers are de ficient in artistic taste, or the means of cultivating it; the first they possess equal to others, the last, sufficient for excellence. But the fault lies in the method of wearing and arranging a toilet in the fashionable belle herself. If she has cultivated no correct eye for form, or judgment in the blending or contrasting colors, what art of the modiste can render her toilet complete? If she is regardless of the fitness of things, and insists upon sweeping the streets with a silk dress that costs four dollars a yard, what amount of fine taste in diminutive flowers, traversing the brim and falling in intending a more minute description, which will be illustrated, in a future number. I a sky whose deep blue was moned by through cloud shed its flood of clear, cold light over the city of line of the lofty hills by which it is partially surroundFlorence; brought into strong and bold relief the outed; gave to the villa-studded plain, which stretches towards Pisa, the aspect of a sheet of molten silver; made the fairy bridge of the Trinity look like a band beneath the splendor of the hour; slept upon the of ivory linking together the two shores of the lovely Arno, whose mimic waves were dancing and crisping lofty tower of the cathedral; and relieved, by its bright flakes of light, and the long, deep shadows with which they were contrasted, the heavy Tuscan archi was evening; and a bright riding LEARNING. It doth invest us with grand and glori-tecture of the ducal palace. and beside a high-arched casement, which was widely In a spacious apartment of that rega' habitation, opened to admit the moonlight that poured across the tapestry-covered floor, sat a lady, so beautiful that, although forty summers had already passed over her head, and that the traces of both care and passion were written upon her brow, she seemed to have defied alike time and trial to rob her of her haughty and excelling loveliness. It was the Grand Duchess of Tuscany, the wife of Francesco Medici, the celebrated worthless Bianca Capella, of whom it has been said by an accomplished writer of the present day, that "her story was a romance, and her death a tragedy." Further within the chamber, and beyond the influence of the cold light which rested upon the person of the lady, reclined a man, some four or five years her junior, whose lofty and well-proportioned figure gave a promise of strength and vigor, which was negatived by the worn and languid, although handsome countenance above it. The extraordinary magnificence of his dress, and the majestic grace of his bearing, would at once have distinguished him as the sovereign of the grand duchy, and the representative of the princely line of the Medici, without the witness of the elaborately-carved shield, bearing the arms of his house, by which the tall back of the large oaken chair in which he sat was surmounted, and which was fully revealed in the strong light of a silver lamp, that was suspended from the ceiling immediately above it. He held a paper in his hand, upon which he occasionally dropped his heavy eyes-though rather, as it seemed, instinctively, than from any inclination to decipher its contents. The enthusiast paused for a moment, and the grand duke was about to speak, when the Lady Bianca, whose flashing eye and burning cheek, betrayed how deeply she had been moved by the energy of the poet, made a gesture of silence, as she looked imploringly towards her consort. Francis, and to attach himself to the court of Tus-ed himself to be interrupted almost unconsciously, cany. when the poet vehemently exclaimed: As the project presented itself, he ascertained that "You do well to reproach me, my lord duke, and to the Della Cruscan Academy, which had constituted it- cast back upon my spirit the load which it has long self the supreme court of criticism in Italy-perhaps been striving to shake off! It is true that I have partly moved by a desire to insure its own popularity loved-deeply and passionately-as those only can among the patricians of Florence, whom he had so love who look beyond the earth and earthly things for deeply offended-had resolved to subject to the ordeal fuel to feed the fire which consumes them. I have of their shallow and verbal analysis the "Gerusalem-loved and suffered—the heart does not study place or me;" and great as was the contempt in which he indi- pedigree when it gives itself away; for where it is vidually held their decisions, Tasso was nevertheless warm and honest, it must in every case ennoble the aware that their verdict might operate unfavorably object of its worship. And yet, men who bow down upon the mass of his countrymen, who were either before an ermine-bordered mantle and a glittering star, too indolent or too prejudiced to form their own un- called it madness in Torquato Tasso to love perfection, biased judgment upon a work into which he had because it was so robed. Out on the sycophants? woven the brightest portion of his genius. Can it be One throb of such passion was worth the lip-service wondered at that this reflection gave strength to his of a century!" determination! He hesitatated no longer. He at once addressed a letter to Francis, in which he implored his But there was yet another individual in the cham- protection against the attacks which he had been ber, standing a few paces distant from the regal pair, taught to expect, and which were to involve both his and immediately in front of the grand duchess, whose person and his writings; and in return for this condenobility, based upon a genius which was to render scension, he volunteered to devote all his energies, him immortal, was, nevertheless, not sufficiently re- both of body and mind, to the interests of Tuscany. cognised at that moment to entitle him to a seat in so But the grand duke had severely felt the affront which august a presence. The person in question wore a Tasso had offered to the Florentine aristocracy: and plain dress of black velvet, fitted closely to his tall and not even the entreaties of his consort could shake his clastic figure, which was gracefully rather than power-resolution for revenge upon the unhappy poet. Vanifully moulded, and was principally conspicuous for ty, ambition, and the love of power, alike urged the exquisite symmetry of his limbs, and for a certain Bianca to persevere in her endeavor to procure the reexpression of lofty and powerful intellect, which made ception of Tasso as an accredited member of the him, despite the elevated rank and sumptuous apparel court. Every endeavor, both on her part and on that of his companions, by far the most prominent and in- of the poet himself, had hitherto failed; and it had teresting figure of the group. If, however, this were been with considerable difficulty that the grand duke the first impression produced by the appearance of the had been induced to grant the interview which we are individual under mention, a second glance complicated about to describe, and which had commenced by a prethe feeling of the observer-for there was a wild and sentation of the petition which Francis held in his wandering expression in his large, deep eye, and an hand, and over which, as he received it from the poet, occasional restlessness in his manner, which told that he had glanced his eye listlessly, and with a stolid the flame within burned at times too fiercely for the expression of countenance, which almost rendered goodly lamp from whence it emanated, and that it had words superfluous: "I cannot entertain the prayer been fed so lavishly as to endanger all within the with honor to myself," he said, coldly, as he slowly sphere of its influence. raised his heavy eyelids, and looked from the paper which he held towards the poet; "for not even your skill, sir bard, can blind me to the fact, that we of Florence are indebted to the reconciliation, which we have just effected with the house of Ferrara, for the proffer of Torquato Tasso's services. Such was Torquato Tasso, as, in the year 1585, the immortal author of "Gerusalemme Liberata," stood suppliant before the sovereigns of Tuscany. was the somewhat haughty reply. "And what though I stand before your highness, proffering fealty to the house of Medici!" pursued Tasso proudly; "I am no vulgar plebeian, unworthy of the service that I seek! I am the son of Bernardo Tasso, who, not content with the unsullied nobility of his birth, rendered himself honored by his virtues, and distinguished by his genius-upon his tomb it was held sufficient to inscribe the words, 'Ossa Bernardi Tassi.' For myself, my lord, my only crime has been that I have hung too closely to the cause which I have espoused; but surely, if your highness hath found it meet to extend the hand of fellowship to the sovereign of Ferrara, it may be also fitly granted to those to whom he vouchsafed his friendship!" "Tasso pleads well, my lord," said the grand duchess, "and, I trust, not vainly. As he truly stated, he is no common suppliant; his fame is bruited through all Italy; and if he be but just to his own powers, he will be an ornament to the court of Tuscany." "The academy of judges think otherwise," said Francis, drily. A curl of scorn played about the mouth of the poet. "And shall a Medici bow down his judgment to such a fiat!" he exclaimed, contemptuously. "Shall a Medici consent to test the outpourings of genius by the verdict of a bench of dullards, who suffer the "I admit the fact; but it is not the less certain that bright spark of thought, emitted by the spirit, to in the feud which has so long divided the courts of escape them, while they are struggling amid the sea of words upon which it scintillates? Shall a Medici Ferrara and Tuscany, you have little served my inter-content himself to deal with those emanations of inests either by word or pen; and surely you, the friend tellect with which the Creator has permitted his creaof princes and the lyrist of royal dames, would not tures, from time to time, to light up the dull materiallean your fortunes upon the nobili artisti of Florence, ism of a sensual and a selfish world, as the school-boy believe that I do not err in thus reporting your own or il giogo della nuova tirannide della casa Medici-I cons his daily task? What are love, ambition, famesave as the spirit robes them with his own brightness, and invests them with his own glory? What is even life itself, save a hideous skeleton, until the glowing draperies of mind have been flung over it, and lent a grandeur and a grace to the crude mass beneath them? Let the Della Cruscan sages cavil at words-'tis their vocation-and the extent of their intellectual power will reach no further than the world's gibe; but the words?" The ducal houses of Medici and Ferrara had been long at feud, and Tasso had warmly espoused the party of his friend and patron, Alphonso, Duke of Ferrara, to whom in terms of grateful affection, he had dedicated his wondrous epic; whose sister he had loved even to madness, and in whose cause he had put forth several writings, in which he had deeply wounded the pride of the Florentine nobility. The aberration of intellect of which he had been occasionally the victim since the discovery of his ill-fated passion, and the imprisonment by which it was followed, had so thoroughly unsettled his tastes and habits, that, pursued by imaginary evils, he had wandered to Turin, to Rome, and thence to Sorrento; but the magnet around which all the deepest feelings of his nature un"We must try to balance the intemperance of his ceasingly revolved, drew him back once more to Fer-language in the brilliancy of his genius," said Bianca, rara, where the violence of his passion for the Prin- with a gracious smile, intended to blunt the edge of cess Leonora displayed itself so publicly, that he was the grand duke's sarcasm; "Suffer the graceful comcarried as a lunatic to the Hospital of St. Anne. The positions which he has lately addressed to myself, my hypochondriacal malady deepened upon him in his lord, to counteract, in your mind, the hasty exprescompulsory solitude; but conscious that his incarcera- sions wrung from him by party feeling." tion, far from originating in vindictiveness on the part of Alfonso, had been designed by that prince rather as a boon than a punishment, he employed his weary leisure in writing letters to the Italian courts, imploring their interference to terminate a captivity which he believed to be rapidly undermining his reason. His entreaties were at length complied with; and on the occasion of the marriage of Donna Virginia di Medici with Don D'Este, Tasso withdrew to Mantua, and a short time afterwards, when a reconciliation was effected between the houses of Medici and Ferrara, the Grand Duchess of Tuscany having expressed a wish to see the author of "Gerusalemme," he was invited to Florence by the sovereign, who seldom suffered a request of Bianca to remain unsatisfied: while Tasso, on his side, probably feeling that Ferrara was no longer to him the home which it had once been, and still imbued with the love of wandering, which had of late years formed so conspicuous a feature in his character, readily yielded himself to the invitation, and was so courteously received by the beautiful Bianca, that after celebrating her attractions in a score of deathless lyrics, he resolved to offer his services to "If report wrong him not," pursued Francis, who evidently entertained a great distaste for the poet, "his homage to the sex does not always confine itself to adulatory sonnets-even where the strong barriers of birth and station might compel him to a more guarded worship; and your highness has rather to thank his necessities than his sincerity for the verbal incense which he has offered at your shrine." As the grand duke spoke, Tasso advanced a couple of paces towards him his eye burnt with light, his lofty figure dilated, and he crushed between his hands the velvet cap which he had withdrawn on his entrance into the apartment, Every nerve quivered, and his beauty was almost fearful as he shook back the dark mass of curling hair which fell low along his cheeks, while a smile, that was half bitterness and half defiance, played about his lip. The eyes of Francis were fixed upon him at that moment: for he designed that not only the irony with which he spoke, but also the subject to which he had made allusion, should wound the sensitive spirit of the listener; yet, nevertheless, there was something so overpowering in the wild emotion which his words had conjured up, that he suffer house of Medici and the author of Gerusalemme' look for a worthier and prouder immortality?" "I am content to share mine with the academy," was the cold reply of the grand duke. "We will detain you no lodger, sir. Her highness thanks you for the courtly phrases in which you have done her homage; and I add my own acknowledgments for the proffer you have made of your talents and services to the court of Tuscany. While you continue in Florence, all honor shall be paid you as my invited guest, even by the nobili artisti, for whom you have expressed so sovereign a contempt; but I cannot interfere with the the decision of the academy." "I shall not urge you further, my lord duke," said the poet; "nor will I longer intrude upon your hospitality. Futurity will be the judge between me and my critics. Florence has granted a lordly tomb alike to Michael Angelo and to Machiavel, and perchance Rome will not refuse a resting-place to the ashes of Torquato Tasso.” "You speak gloomily, signor !" said Bianca Capella, in her softest and most sympathising tone. "Not so, madam! although perchance somewhat solemnly; for such a grave as I aspire to will not be |