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The wet crew feebly clinging to their shattered mast.

Foam-white along the border of the shore
Thine onward-leaping billows plunge and roar ;
While o'er the pebbly ridges slowly glide
Cloaked figures, dim and gray
Through the thick mist of spray,
Watchers for some struck vessel in the boiling tide

Daughter and darling of remotest eld-
Time's childhood and Time's age thou hast beheld ;
His arm is feeble, and his eye is dim ;

He tells old tales again

He wearies of long pain,
Thou art as at the first thou journey 'dot not with him.





The parents of my grandfather were stout
Hanoverians. Their professions of loyalty and
Protestantism were not merely lip-deep mat-
ters. They were loyal and Protestant to the
backbone to the core of the heart to
wherever else the recess is where integrity (or
rather falsehood) is supposed to lurk. They
drank the health of King George and the Pro-
testant ascendency in endless bumpers of stern
March beer; they propagated their principles
among their friends; they whipped them into
their children; they taught them to their ser-
vants. Little tottering urchins, a foot high,
who -svere learning their " duty to their neigh-
bour," learned, at the same time, to hate a
Jacobite with all their heart and with all their
strength. Their first lesson, when they got
into three syllables, was to cry, "Destruction
to the house of Stuart! " In other respects
their education was not conducted on a strict
plan. In regard to my grandfather, who was
in his later years (I am so sorry to say) an
occasional swearer he always traced his in-
firmity to his having been encouraged at three
years old to bawl forth, "Curse the Pretender!"
He derived this small accomplishment from
the stable-boy, and it was considered dangerous
to attempt to extinguish it by reproof. " We
may pull up the flower and the weed together,"
said his father; so my grandfather remained
a swearer.

In the year 1746 his parents dwelt, and had
dwelt for some years, at the small town of
Calne, in Wiltshire. At that day politics ran
high, and in Calne they ran higher than in
other places. The tailor, the butcher, the
baker, were afflicted with the epidemic. The
less people had to do with the matter, the more
furious they became. A leash of tailors and a
brace of bakers (stitched and kneaded up to-
gether, and called "The Club,") determined
to settle the question in favour of the house of
Hanover. A bunch of gardeners opposed them
on the Stuart side. Each man was for "the
right," and for that reason they all neglected
their business, and in twelve months were sup-
ported at the expense of the parish. This they
called suffering for their country. They suf-
fered on both sides for their country, which
was odd enough. Yet their country never
knew it till this moment, when I (unwillingly)
proclaim its ingratitude. However, there were
some more efficient adherents to the houses of

Stuart and Hanover, as will be supposed.
Among these was a Mr. Campbell, a Scotsman
by birth, a lawyer by education (he had retired
from the bar on a small fortune), and as com-
pletely cased in Jacobitism as the King of
Denmark was in steel, namely, ' ' from top to
toe. "

It is a little singular that this gentleman
should have become the intimate friend of a
loyal Protestant, but so it was. Matters of opi-
nion, to be sure, interfered occasionally with
this intimacy, and political jars sometimes even
threatened to shake the foundations of their
friendship; but, on the whole, they went on
pretty smooth ly, and had a most sincere re-
spect for each other.

As Mr. Stephen Bethel, the Hanoverian, had
a son (my grandfather), who was heir of his
acres; so Mr. Campbell, the Jacobite, had a
daughter, as fair as Eve, and the sole stay and
solace of his home. What was to be expected
in such a case? My grandfather fell over head
and ears in love. He was at the mature age
of sixteen; so he declared himself, and was
refused! If the river Marden had been deep
enough, the line of Bethel had perhaps been
extinct. Fortunately, it is only a little rip-
pling stream, and being (thereabouts) not more
than four feet deep, was insufficient for the
purposes of the most desperate of lovers. My
grandfather probably felt this; for, after a
week's deliberation, he postponed his intended
suicide to an indefinite period, or, as the par-
liamentary reporters say, "sine die." In the
j interim he set seriously to study, and after two
years of unflinching reading, he was sent
abroad to travel, and remained in foreign
countries two years more. Some time after
his departure, Mr. Campbell was also called
suddenly to Scotland upon some private
business, relating, as he intimated, to a small
patrimony which he possessed in that coun-

It was about this time (viz. in 1745) that
the Chevalier, Charles Edward, made his un-
successful attempt upon the crown of England.
I am not about to fatigue you with the parti-
culars of this expedition; they arc known to
every one now, since the publication of the
memoirs of Mr. Fergus Mac Ivor, and the cele-
brated Baron of Brad ward inc. I must tell you,
however, that among the adherents of the
house of Hanover, there was not one so indig-
nant at this invasion of the country as the
father of Mr. Walter Bethel. He strapped his
sword (a huge Toledo) round his loins; fur-
bished up a horrible, wide-mouthed blunder-
buss ; stuck a brace of huge brass-mounted



pistols in his belt, and swore frightfully, both
by St. George and the Dragon, that he would
cut off the ears of the first rebel who dared to
violate the sanctity of the county of Wilts.
Had he lived farther northward, there must
have been bloody noses between Mr. Stephen
Bethel and the Jacobites. As it was, his anger
exhausted itself in words; a fortunate event for
the heroes in philibegs and tartans, and not
altogether unlucky, perhaps, for my great-

During the absence of Campbell his daugh-
ter lived in the house of Mr. Bethel. My grand-
father being at that time absent on his travels,
there was no objection to this arrangement on
her part; and the young lady being a Protes-
tant (the religion of her deceased mother), Mr.
Bethel felt no apprehension that his sober
family could be tainted by the scarlet princi-
ples of the woman of Babylon.

When Mary Campbell rejected the hand of
my grandfather, he was, as I have said, some
sixteen years of age, and she herself being as
old within six months, looked down, naturally
enough, upon the pretensions of so young a
lover. Two years, however, spent in studying
books at home (during which time he forbore
to see her), and more than two years devoted
to the study of man abroad, converted Mr.
Walter Bethel into a promising cavalier, and
made wonderful alterations in the opinions of
the lady. At the time of my grandfather's
return, Mary Campbell was a resident in his
father's house; arid when the old gentleman,
after embracing his son, led him up to his fair
guest, with "You remember my son Walter,
my dear Miss Campbell?" Miss Campbell was
ready to sink with confusion. A little time,
however, sufficed for her recovery, and she re-
ceived my grandfather's courtesies as grace-
fully as anybody could be expected to do who
had "never seen the Louvre." Walter Bethel
felt this. He saw a distinction a shade, in-
deed, between his former favourite and the
pretty Madame la Comtesse de Frontac and la
belle Marquise de Vaudrecour; but, on the
whole, he was well satisfied, and, it must be
added, not a little surprised also. For time,
which had been so busy in lavishing accom-
plishments on the head of Mr. Walter Bethel,
having had a little time to spare from that
agreeable occupation, had employed it very
advantageously in improving the mind and
person of Mary Campbell. Perhaps this might
be for the purpose of once more entrapping her
lover's heart. Perhaps but it is not easy to
speak as to this. The result of her improve-
ment, however, was very speedily seen. My

grandfather fell over head and ears again in
love, and this time he was destined to be a

He had not been four-and-twenty hours at
home before his "Miss Campbell" expanded
into "My dear Miss Campbell." This, in a
week, dwindled into "Mary," which in its
turn blossomed out into half-a-do'zen little ten-
der titles (such as are to be found in any page
of Cupid's calendar), with very expressive
epithets appended to them. I have heard him
tell the story of his offering his hand and heart
to my grandmother, while the good old lady
sat with smiling, shining eyes at his side, lis-
tening to his rhapsodies, as pleased, I verily
believe, as she could have been when the offer
was actually made to her forty or fifty years

My grandfather had been returned about
three months from his travels, and was abso-
lutely basking in the sunshine of Mary's eyes,
when Campbell, who had been long absent, re-
turned suddenly and unexpectedly from Scot-
land. He had formerly been a tall, ruddy,
athletic man; but he came back worn to the
bone, pale, attenuated, and drooping. He had
never given up the idea that one day or other
the house of Stuart would be restored to what
he called "its rights;" and when the invasion
of the Pretender, which had excited such mad
expectations, ended in the utter discomfiture
of himself and his adherents, Campbell could
scarcely bear up against his disappointment.
It was asserted, and not contradicted, that
his journey to Scotland had been a mere pre-
text; that he had been actually in the thick
of the fights of Falkirk and Preston, and
had been forced to flee for his life, and to
hide in caves, and brakes, and desert places,
from the insatiable fury of the English

He escaped at last, however, and arrived at
Calne; not free from molestation, indeed, for
within four-and-twenty hours of his return,
news also arrived of the approach of a detach-
ment, sent, as it was said, to scour the country
of rebels, and charged with particular instruc-
tions to seize upon our unhappy Jacobite.

"Well, Walter, my boy," said Mr. Stephen
Bethel, "what is to be done?"

"I think," replied Walter, "we had better
send him off to my aunt's, at Hilmarton. Ff
he were well covered with one of your wig.s,
sir "

"Eh? what? zounds !" exclaimed the other,
" do you think I'll be accessory do you think
that I, a Bethel! will help to conceal one of
King George's rascally enemies? Do you think


?" Mr. Stephen Bethel was lashing him-
self up with words as the lion does with his
tail; and there was no knowing how long he
would have gone on with his "do you
thinks?" or, in fact, whether he ever would
have stopped, had not my grandfather very
naturally, and at the same time a little ingeni-
ously, exclaimed, "Poor Mary! what will she
not suffer?"

Mr. Stephen Bethel was calm in a moment.
We have heard how a cannon-ball will suddenly
put an end to the most violent discussion ;
how the ducking-stool will at once quell the
else untamable tongue of the scold; but
"Poor Mary!" it was oil upon the ocean of
his wrath. He was conquered and quiet in an

"To be sure," said he, faltering, "poor
Mary! poor girl!" added he, "'tis a pity that
such a creature should suffer for the errors of
her father. As to him a foolish, obstinate,
headstrong Jacobite ! But King George is at
his heels King George or King George's men;
and now we shall hear whether he'll sing The
Cammels are coming; or cry, King James and
Proud Preston again ! "

And so the old gentleman veered about from
pity to wrath, from loyalty to friendship, and
back again. Friendship, however, got the
better at last, and he set about helping Camp-
bell in good earnest. Walter was allowed to
convey to Campbell an intimation of his dan-
ger: not that the father desired this in so many
words, but as he did not absolutely prohibit it,
his son interpreted his silence to his own pur-
poses, and proceeded to the house of the un-
lucky Jacobite.

The first object that struck his sight on en-
tering Campbell's house was Mary herself, evi-
dently in deep distress. " My dearest Mary!"
said he, putting his arm gently round her

"Oh, Walter!" replied she, sobbing "my
father! my poor father! That unfortunate
expedition of the prince "

"Of the Pretender?" said Walter inquir-

"Do not carp at words," replied she; "what
matter whether he be prince or pretender, now
that the soldiers are coming for my dear
father? Oh! he will be taken! he will be
taken!" continued she, weeping and wringing
her hands.

"I came to save him," said Walter. "Be
comforted. Where is he? Is he within?"

"He is gone," answered she. "He received
the news from a friend, and had just time to

"Tell me where?" said my grandfather

"I cannot I must not!" said she. "He
charged me to keep his secret, and I must do
so even from you."

"He will be found," replied Walter in dis-
tress. "He will be hunted by these rascals,
and found. Let him trust himself to me. I
know a place where he may hide for a time,
and our well-known principles will assure his
final safety. If the storm be once blown over,
my father and uncle shall exert their interest
with the duke, and all will be well. So take
heart, my dearest, and tell me, without more
ado, where your father is. Tell me, as you
value his life."

And she told; and she did well to tell; for,
besides that Campbell's hiding-place was speed-
ily searched, and that nothing short of the
character of the Bethels would have been suffi-
cient to ward off the strict inquiries that were
elsewhere made, it was well that the honesty
of love should not be rewarded with distrust.
Mary Campbell confided in her lover not only
her heart, but her father's life; and well was
the confidence repaid.

I must now give up the task of historian,
and let my grandfather tell you the rest of the
story himself. It was one of his thousand and
one anecdotes, and it was in these words that
he was accustomed to tell it:

" The day," he used to begin, "on which th
soldiers came on their man-hunt to Calne was
memorable for many a year. Both men and
the elements seemed quarrelling with each
other. The scornful loyalist, the desperate
Jacobite, stood front to front, in flaming open
defiance. The thunder muttered, the wind
went raving about, and the rains, which had
been falling heavily all night and glittering in
the lightning, now came tumbling down in
cataracts and sheets of water. The little run-
nels had grown into brooks; the brooks were
formidable rivers. The Marden itself, usually
so unimportant, had swollen and panted long
in its narrow bounds, till at last it burst over
its banks, and went flooding the country round.
Notwithstanding all this, the hunters prepared
to pursue their prey.

"It is a fearful thing to chase even a beast
that flies for its life, but to hunt the great
animal, man, must surely thrill and strike an
alarm into the heart of his pursuer. What!
he whom we have smiled upon, whose hand we
have clutched, whose cheer we have enjoyed!
Shall we if he do a desperate deed which
some law forbid strip our hearts at once of
all sympathy, and track him from spot to spot,



through woods, and lanes, and hollows, and
lonely places, till he fall into the toil? and
then go home and be content with the abstract
principle of justice, and forget that we have
lost a friend for ever!

" I had got the start of the red-coats by
almost a quarter of an hour; but I found that
I had to encounter impediments that I had not
foreseen. I had set off with scarcely any de-
termined idea but that of saving Campbell at
all events. I took the ordinary road to the
brake, where I knew that he lay concealed;
striding onwards at my best pace, sometimes
running, sometimes toiling up slippery ascents,
sometimes plunging along the plashy meadows,
till my breath grew short and painful from ex-
cess of exertion. I still kept on my course,
however, and had contrived to attain a lofty
ridge of land, not very distant from the place
of refuge, when all at once my eyes fell upon
a broad waste of water, a vast turbid stream
running at random over the country, and
above which nothing appeared but an occa-
sional tree, and the long narrow slip of
wood and copse which crowned the elevated
land, and in which, as I concluded, my friend
was hid.

"If ever I felt real despair it was at that
moment. I stopped for an instant (a dreadful
instant) to think I could not be said strictly
to deliberate. Ithoughtquickly, intensely, with
a pain piercing the very centre of my heart.
In three or four seconds of time I had, with
the rapidity which fear produced, considered
half-a-dozen methods of passing the water. At
last I recollected a sheep-path, traversing a
narrow neck of high land, on the opposite of
the inundation, which, although apparently
quite covered by the floods, might nevertheless
still enable me to reach the wood; but to arrive
at this path it was necessary to retrace three
parts of the space which I had already tra-
velled. I turned my steps backward instantly,
and with great efforts arrived at the bridge, on
the skirts of the town, just in time to hear the
roll of the drum hard by, which called the
soldiers to duty. I fancied that I could almost
hear the cl ick of their firelocks as they examined
them, previously to their setting out in pursuit
of Campbell. 'Twas then I forgot everything.
My legs were no longer cramped; my breath,
pent up and labouring in my breast, seemed
suddenly relieved, and I ran forwards with
increased speed for almost a mile, when the
footsteps of a person, about the size of Camp-
bell, which had made deep impressions on a
piece of soft soil, arrested my attention. I saw
from the direction that this person must have


left the highroad at that spot, and taken to
the fields. I erased the marks as well as I
could. Thrusting the spike of my leaping-pole
into the gravel of the road, I cleared the hedge
at a bound, without leaving a single trace of
my course, and took my way across the fields in
pursuit of Campbell.

' For some time no steps were discernible,
for my route lay over grass on which the rain
was still incessantly falling. At last indica-
tions of a footmark encouraged me, and I con-
tinued to track it, sometimes readily, sometimes
with difficulty, for it frequently disappeared,
until it led me to the very edge of the flood.
The man, whoever he was, must have plunged
right through the waters. Perhaps he had
been carried away. But there was no time for
guessing; so feeling my way with my pole, I
took to the water myself. To my surprise it
was shallow enough for awhile, scarcely reach-
ing above my knees. I got on, therefore,
readily enough till I had arrived within a few
yards of the wood, the object of my labours,
when the land suddenly dipped, and I found
myself in upwards of four feet water. A few
more steps would, I knew, place me on dry
ground : so I strained onwards across the cur-
rent, which now ran with considerable force,
and after a struggle or two reached the skirts
of the wood in safety.

"I had just caught hold of some long grass
to secure my footing, when my attention was
arrested by a noise at some distance. I threw
myself on the bank for a single minute's rest,
and heard distinctly the withered leaves and
brambles crackling under a heavy tread, and
the hoarse thick breathing of some creature
apparently in the last stage of exhaustion.
The horrid guttural sounds which it gave out
in its pain (I heard them at the distance of a
hundred yards) ring in my ears to this moment.
I remembered to have heard that in Indian or
African hunts the enormous beasts which they
pursue will sometimes thus breathe out their
distress before they stand at bay and die. But
no such creature could be here so I deter-
mined to follow. After a few steps I called
out, 'Who goes?' All was still in an instant.

" My way now lay across the middle of the
wood to the dingle, where I hoped to find my
friend. In my course I had to pass by a deep
hollow, which was usually filled with water,
and which was the haunt of the water-rat, the
lizard, and the frog, who kept their court
among the flags and rushes there. I had
reached this place, and was passing on, when
a slight noise induced me to turn my head.
The sound was like the cocking of a pistol; so



I made haste to proclaim myself. 'It is I
'tis Walter Bethel!' called I out lustily. The
words were scarcely out of my mouth when
uprose, from amidst the rushes and the green
stagnant water, a phantom more hideous than
Triton or Nereus in his most terrible mood.
Covered to the chin with the green mantle of
the pool, his clothes soaked and saturated with
water, arose with a cocked pistol in each
hand, and a mouth wide open and gasping for
breath my father-in-law, Campbell! He
stared like a man bewildered.

"'Well?' said he at last: 'twas all he could

'"I am come to save you,' replied I ; 'the
soldiers will be here in a few minutes. Come
along with me.'

"'No,' replied the other; Til go no far-
ther. I caw go no farther. I may as well die
here. '

'"By Heaven!' said I, 'you shall not die.
Rebel or not, you are Mary Campbell's father,
and while I have a sinew left, you shall not be
taken. '

" With that I took him upon my back (for
I was a lusty fellow then), and carried him I
know not how, but by several efforts I believe
to the extreme side of the wood. I was just
congratulating myself on my success, when
suddenly I heard the measured tramp of sol-
diers coming along a lane which wound round
the skirts of the copse. I had mistaken the
way. I stopped immediately, and heard the
word 'Halt!' uttered in a tone that struck to
my heart.

" 'They are upon us,' whispered Campbell,
'and the only thing is to die boldly! Go,
therefore, my dear Walter; and may God bless
you! Tell poor Mary ,' but here his voice
faltered, and he could only sigh out deeply,
'God bless my dear child!'

"There was no time for talking, as you will
imagine. I therefore motioned him to silence,
and drew him, with the least possible noise,
away from the point of danger. He was now
able to walk slowly; and that was fortunately
sufficient, for the soldiers had stopped to de-
liberate. We kept on at a steady quiet pace
along a sharp angle of the wood, which termin-
ated at a point near the Bath road. Behind
us, the voices of the soldiers were occasionally
heard; and once the report of a musket-shot a
little disturbed our tranquillity. We succeeded,
however, in attaining the extreme point of the
wo id, and were just about to emerge into the
road, when a heavy plunge was heard near us,
like that of a person jumping from an eminence,
and the whistle of a pistol-bullet through the

leaves, which quickly followed, reduced us to
instant silence. Without uttering a syllable I
pulled Campbell down beside me, amongst the
fern and rank grass that grew all about, and
there lay for two or three dreadful minutes,
till our enemy had passed onwards. I had
flung Campbell so completely prostrate that,
he averred, he was obliged to make no incon-
siderable meal of fern and dock leaves before
he could breathe with comfort. However this
was, we soon rose up, as soon as prudently we
could do so contrived to drop a fragment of
Campbell's dress on the Chippenham road, and
after seeing our pursuers take the bait and
proceed southwards, we turned our backs upon
danger and the detachment, and reached Hil-
marton in safety."

To take up the conclusion of the tale, the
latter part of which has been told in the words
of Walter Bethel.

Campbell was saved. A little time sufficed,
as my grandfather had predicted, to put an end
to the hanging of the Jacobites. General
Bethel, a firm and loyal friend of the existing
government, was won over, after some entreaty,
to petition for the pardon of Campbell; for he
was one who had been excepted out of the list
of those forgiven.

"He is a flaming, furious Jacobite," said
General Bethel to his favourite, AValter, in re-
ply to his request; "a troublesome fellow is
he, Walter, and deserves to suffer."

" He is Mary's father, my dear uncle," said
my grandfather, insinuatingly.

"You are a fool, Walter," replied the general
tartly. ' ' At your age you ought to be marching
at the head of a file of grenadiers, instead of

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