whose dream, or second sight, as it may well be called, had hitherto diverted him from noticing their absence. "Where indeed?" answered Jane; "they have not been here since midnight, to my recollection, and they may have gone an hour or two before." "Gone! gone where?" for a short time from the mouth of the cave, having to encounter one of the dangerous passes to the cave, formed by almost perpendicular rocks: and this difficulty had given time to our two friends at the mouth of the cave to make those observations above noted. But no sooner had the Iroquois obtained better foothold, than rifle-balls spattered "Ay, that is the question, brother, which we at the feet of the observers, clipping off innumerare unable to solve; for-" At that moment the well known whoop or unearthly scream of the Iroquois broke upon their ears; and the echoing caverns, by prolonging and repeating it, seemed to multiply their besiegers into legions. This effectually roused the sleepers. Robert Brown was on his feet in a moment, instinctively moving towards the rifles, which stood in a corner of the cave. "But, I can get no shot," despondingly soliloquized this faithful servant of Lord Stirling, "without going out of the mouth of the cave; and the moment I am there, I'm a dead man." This was too true. And the fact rendered the rifles in the cave wholly useless in defence. Old Nanny had only risen to her knees, half supporting her oblique posture by one hand upon the floor of the cave; and being but half awake from a frightful dream, her eyes glared wildly around the cave, still obscurely lighted by the expiring flambeaux. A second war-whoop, which arose above the noise of the cataract, and seemed to penetrate the heart of the mountain, brought both Mr. Asbury and old Nanny to their feet. able fragments of rock around the mouth of the The ashy pale countenance and quivering lips of Mr. Asbury were incontestible evidences that hope had fled, and sudden death was inevitable. "My friends," said Mr. Asbury, in a voice husky and sepulchral, “ our guides are gone · the enemy are near at hand-what can we do? I'm not prepared to address you—indeed, we have no time:-I now feel that I need supporting grace myself:-Lord have mercy on my soul! - Jesus grant us dying grace!" With these words the preacher dropped upon his knees, covering his eyes with his hands, while he groaned in mental agony. Robert Brown and old Nanny kneeled to share in the benefits of the prayer; Robert, in the corner, where the rifles stood, fixing his hand on the breech of one of them; while Nanny kept close to the preacher. The violent fever of the patient had now subsided, and this was no time for sleep. Another wild shout proclaimed the near approach of the savages; and sundry bullets entering at the cave's mouth, struck the upper ceiling, and struck off pieces of rock, "Let us go to the mouth of the cave," cries the which came down near the feet of the kneeling parpreacher to Charles. "Where are our guides?" were the first words of the divine. "We have but one left," replied Miss Stirling, "He that guided the three Hebrew children through the fiery furnace, when the form of a fourth was seen to walk with them amidst the fire, alone remains to defend us." son. Nanny screamed, and was in hysterics; the They went; and to their surprise the Iroquois preacher merely drew up his feet; "Johnstone" had left their encampment, and were seen holding sprang from his bed, and, folding a blanket around on to the rocks in their ascent up the mountain, him, seized one of the rifles; the lieutenant had his and had already made considerable progress hand upon another; while Jane was trying to raise towards the cave. Though the fires within the the remaining one, which seemed somehow encumcave had till then thrown their reflections upon bered by the arm of the praying Robert. And the walls, making it appear like night in that now the wild voices of the approaching savages subterranean lodge; yet on getting out, a cloudless became more and and more fearfully distinct ; day had broken upon the world, and one of those revealing to the besieged that their foes were now golden suns had begun to tinge the top of the approaching the last narrow pass, and that, in a mountain, revealing a delightful change in the few minutes they would stand before the mouth of weather, and giving promise of an American the cave. The devotions of Mr. Asbury had grown Indian summer, which generally commences in from silent ejaculations and suppressed groaning, October, and continues until Christmas. O, it to oral prayer. A tremendous earthquake seemed was a lovely morning, but in wide contrast with to shake the mountain. It seemed as if part of the dismal prospects of the besieged fugitives. the mountain had fallen above the cave; rumbThe roar of that waterfall, whose leaping waters ling, and jarring, and splitting the rocks overhead! sparkled in the beams of morning, was like a Prayer ceased; and every mortal in that rocky solemn dirge to the ears of these two beholders, vault instinctively sprang from the impending ruin whose eyes had lost their relish for the grandeur to the mouth of the cave. What a scene met and beauties of nature, and were strained towards their astonished gaze! A massive rock, of many every point of the compass to light on their forest tons weight, was, at that moment, rolling, boundguides, in whom alone they had earthly hopes.ing, leaping, grating, and jarring through that But the guides were no where to be seen. The frightful narrow pass, where, in awful terror, ascending warriors had had their attention diverted stood the cowering Iroquois, who, in a moment, were swept down the frightful declivity. The disparted rock rolled on, shrouding the horrible scene; and yet, strange to tell, above, and nearer to the cave than where this frightful avalanche had done its work of death, two living warriors rose to their feet, from behind projecting rocks, and, in terror, were moving down the declivity. A voice, as from the upper regions, now saluted the ears of the besieged, a voice loud, clear, and commanding, "Go back into the cave or you die!" The awe-stricken company obeyed as if by instinct. In a moment, a second earthquake shook the place where they were. They sprang, as before, to the cave's mouth; when, lo! another mountain of rock was bounding behind the two escaped warriors. One of them disappeared from the view of the beholders, and they thought him ground to powder beneath the falling rock. The blanket of the other seemed caught by a projecting fragment of the falling mass; or that sharp fragment had pierced the body of the warrior, fastening him to the descending rock. And as the rock increased in its velocity, and whirled and bounded down the mountain, the extended limbs of the transfixed warrior floated in the air, whirling and bounding with the disparted rock, until both together, leaping over the narrow trail, plunged into the vortex of the Mohawk, which boils below the cataract. It was a scene of terror and amazement ! But a moment before, and the tenants of the rocky cave, cowered, trembling on the verge of existence; now they stood in the light of a cheering sun; the mists of night were rising above the mountain-tops, unveiling the outlines of sublime and bold scenery; the chiming waterfall discoursed music to the surrounding echoes; the birds, on the forest trees, woke their morning song, and all Nature seemed new, and lovely, and inspiring. But where were the Iro quois? - Their memorial was written in blood on the rugged rocks of the dangerous pass. The redeemed party stood and looked down that pass, now all forsaken and tenantless: the sudden transition, the gush of intense feeling, the mingled sentiments of gratitude to Heaven for deliverance, and commiseration for the awful fate of those who had perished, hushed the party into silence; and they stood, and gazed, and wept! While thus rapt in speechless wonder and awe, Cudjoe, on a sudden, bounded into the midst of them, and thus broke silence : "Whoa-wa! couldn't ye stand it in the cave? I told Shenandoah that the big rocks, let loose over the cave, would make a bluster among ye. But then, d'ye see, the cave and the pass was the lowest pint in the mountain; and, somehow, rather big stones let loose, will always be arter the lowest pints; so we'd no choice; but zuckers! if you'd not run in when Shenandoah squalled out to ye, ye'd all got confusticated as well as them black varmint. Don't depend on that bush, Shenandoah: the roots only sprangle on the surface; they can't get into the rock; and I liked to pull it up as I came down, and tumble down with it." On the eyes of the company being turned to the point indicated by the speaker, they beheld the king of the Oneidas clambering down from a frightful crag of rock, which, rising abruptly at the back of the cave, formed a wild and broken pinnacle to the mountain. From that pinnacle, rocks of immense weight were still hanging, as it were, in frightful equipoise, requiring but a little effort to loosen them from their beds, and send them thundering down the rocky pass. The two faithful foresters had spent the livelong night in preparing the rocks, on that pinnacle, for the frightful avalanche which has just been described. (To be concluded in our next Number.) FLOWERS PLANTED IN HONOUR OF THREE SISTERS. BLOOM, Sweetly bloom, ye flow'rets fair, In all the joyous light of youth, Fresh as the rose-bud, sweet and young, Thus sweetly bloom the sister-band; A. W. SLEEP. 169 LORD CAMPBELL'S LIVES OF ENGLISH CHANCELLORS. (Continued from page 84 of our February Number.) CARDINAL WOLSEY. WITH the era of Cardinal Wolsey, Lord Campbell's Biographies of the Chancellors assume a new aspect, and become thenceforth "Lives;" entitled as much by their amplitude, as by their varied excellences, to take and hold a place in English literature, as histories telling all that can ever now be known of the eminent persons portrayed. From this epoch, also, the work possesses greater interest, from the individual characters of the Chancellors of the sixteenth and the beginning of the seventeenth century, and the many memorable events of that period of our national history, with which they were directly connected. The indomitable genius of Wolsey, his princely munificence, and the heroic qualities—the nobler part of man-which his downfal drew into light, if they have not somewhat influenced the opinions of his biographer, have disposed him to tenderness for the splendid transgressor, in which the reader cannot help sharing, though sometimes against his better judgment. He was friendship; and, as a token of his regard, presented him then happened to fall vacant. Wolsey accordingly took to the rectory of Lymington, in Somersetshire, which orders, and was instituted as parson of this parish on the 10th of October, 1500. He immediately renounced his school and other college appointments, the more readily on account of a charge brought against him, that had erected the tower of Magdalen College chapel, he had misapplied the college funds. While bursar, he known by the name of " Wolsey's tower," still admired for the chaste simplicity and elegance of its architecture, and he was accused of having clandestinely diverted a portion of the revenue over which his office of bursar gave him control, to the expense of this edifice, — a heinous offence in the eyes of the fellows, while lamenting their diminished dividend. Suddenly emerging from the cloisters of Magdalen, in which he had been hitherto immured,-when he took possession of his living, he seems for a time to have indulged in levities not becoming his sacred calling. By his dissolute manners, or perhaps by his superior popularity, he incurred the displeasure of Sir Amyas Paulet, a neighbouring justice of the peace, who lay by for an opportunity to show his resentment. This was soon afforded him. Wolsey, being of "a free and sociable temper," went with some of his neighbours to a fair in an adjoining town, where they all got very drunk, and created a riot. Sir Amyas, who was present, selected "his Reverence" as the most guilty, and the stocks, and actually saw the sentence carried into convicting him on the view," ordered him to be set in immediate execution. 66 The haughty Chancellor, it is alleged, did not in after times forget the indignity offered to the roistering priest; who soon afterwards left his rural parish, and, in the natural course of events, from being domestic chaplain to Sir John Nanfant, Treasurer of Calais, obtained a similar appointment with Henry VII. He was now become a wiser and graver, if not a better man; and the path to high fortune was open before one, in all respects qualified to succeed in the race of worldly ambition. The leading facts of the biography of Wolsey differ in no essential particular from those with which English readers are already familiar. The future Archbishop of York, the Lord Chancellor of England, and—a dignity in which he took far more pride the Legate à latere, was beyond question the son of a butcher of Ipswich. one of those men on whom Nature, from their birth, impresses the outward stamp of greatness. Little or nothing is known of his childhood or school days; but his father's neighbours contributed to send the promising genius to Oxford. He took his degree at Magdalen College so early, as to have been, in ridicule, styled the "Boy Bachelor." In the very zenith of his fortune Wolsey boasted of this nickname, as proof of his early attainments in literature. He was still very young when elected a fellow of his college, and appointed head-master of the school connected with it. He is said to have been most assiduous in his duties, devoted to the interests, and filled with the pride, of learning. While thus engaged he became acquaint-"natural dignity of manner or aspect which no art ed with the youthful friends More and Erasmus. Another crisis, if not indeed the turning point of Wolsey's fortunes, was at hand, to which Lord Campbell thus adverts: — The probability at this time was, that he would spend the rest of his days in the University, and that his ambition (which could not have aspired higher) might be crowned with the headship of his college. But it so happened that he had for pupils three sons of the Marquess of Dorset, and during a Christmas vacation he accompanied them to the country seat of their father. Wolsey was now in his twenty-ninth year, of great acquirements, both solid and ornamental,-remarkably handsome in his person, insinuating in his manners, and amusing in his conversation. The Marquess was so much struck with him, that he at once proffered him his VOL. XIII.-NO. CXLVII. He had now occasion to be in the presence of the King daily, celebrating mass before him in his private closet; and he afterwards gave attendance upon the courtiers who he thought bore most rule in the Council, and were highest in favour. They soon perceived his merit, and were disposed to avail themselves of his services. He is said now to have displayed that can imitate, and which no rule or method of practice will ever be able to form." He was eminently favoured by nature in dignity of person, and winning expression of countenance. According to Cavendish,* he was celebrated for "a special gift of natural eloquence, with a filed tongue to pronounce the same, so that he was able to persuade and allure all men to his purpose;" or, in the words of Shakspere, he was "exceeding wise, fair spoken, and persuading." He had, besides, a quick and correct perception of character, and of the secret springs of action, and a singular power of shaping his conduct and conversation according to circumstances. The manner in which Wolsey recommended himself to the favour of Henry VII. is well known. * Cavendish the Secretary and Biographer of Wolsey. N He was not only an able and skilful negotiator of delicate affairs, but a servant whose zeal kindled to the enthusiastic devotion which made him anticipate modern railroad speed in promoting the elderly king's wishes for an immediate union with Margaret, Duchess-dowager of Savoy. This marriage the death of Henry prevented; but not before Wolsey's zeal had been rewarded by him with the rich deanery of Lincoln. The rising favourite made a still more rapid progress in the good graces of the young king, Henry VIII. Wolsey at once conformed to the tastes of the youthful Sovereign, and won his heart. He jested, he rallied, he sang, he danced, he caroused with the King and his gay companions, and in a very short time, by his extraordinary address, he not only supplanted Surrey in the royal favour, but also Fox his patron. He was sworn a Privy Councillor, and appointed King's Almoner; an office which kept him in constant attendance on the person of the Monarch in his hours of relaxation, and thereby enabled him to acquire over the mind of Henry an ascendency which was imputed to the practice of the magical art. It is said, however, that although Wolsey, for the purposes of ambition, countenanced irregularities at Court unsuitable to the presence of a priest, he was careful, when any proper opportunity offered, to give good advice to the King, as well in respect to his personal as his political conduct, and highly tending on both accounts to his advantage and improvement. He would instil into his mind a lesson on the art of government over a game at primero, and after a roistering party with him at night, he would hold with him in the morning a disputation on a question out of Thomas Aquinas. As yet without any higher appointment about the Court than that of Almoner, he soon made himself Prime Minister, and exercised supreme power in the state. The splendid steps in Wolsey's future career may be briefly passed. As Commissary-General to the Army in France, he amassed immense wealth, which he employed in no sordid way; while the successive appointments of Bishop of Tournay, and of Lincoln, Archbishop of York, and Cardinal Legate à latere, rapidly increased his fortune and power. He was, indeed, the wealthiest pluralist ever known in England, enjoying, along with his archiepiscopal dignity, the revenues of some of the richest sees in the kingdom. The Great Seal yet remained to be grasped, and the aged Warham was supplanted; for though doubts upon this subject have been raised, Lord Campbell comes, we think, to the true conclusion, when he states, The parade which he immediately made of the trappings of the office of Chancellor, and the manner in which he devoted himself to the discharge of its duties, showed that he had clutched it as eagerly, and that he enjoyed it as intensely, as any preferment ever bestowed upon him. Wolsey was now in the zenith of his greatness. At this period, the Crown was absolute in England, and he alone wielded all its power. He was in consequence courted with the greatest obsequiousness by Francis I. and Charles V. the rival monarchs, who were contending for superiority on the continent of Europe, and who felt that the result of the struggle depended to a considerable degree on his friendship. Money coined with the Cardinal's hat upon it was now current without objection, though made the ground of one of the charges against him on his fall. The University of Oxford is supposed to have exceeded all the rest of the nation in servility towards him, and to have almost committed treason, by styling him in their addresses, "Your Majesty." No head of an ambitious and restless man could long have stood the homage and adulation heaped upon the Cardinal. He became intoxicated with the fumes of the incense burned to him by crowned heads, princesses of the blood, and servile nobles and churchmen. The splendour of his mode of living throws the greatest magnificence of the nobility of modern times completely into the shade. It even eclipsed that of his luxurious master. His manner of living now eclipsed the splendour of the King's court. His household consisted of eight hundred persons, comprehending one Earl (the Earl of Derby,) nine barons, and many knights and squires of great figure and worship. He had a high-chamberlain, a vice-chamberlain, a treasurer, a controller, and other officers corresponding to those of royalty, bearing white staves. He had in his hall-kitchen two master cooks, with many assistants; and in his private kitchen a master cook, who went daily in damask, satin, or velvet, with a chain of gold about his neck. We should never finish if we were to enumerate all the yeomen, grooms, pages, and purveyors that he had in his larder, scalding-house, scullery, buttery, pantry, ewery, cellar, chaundery, wafery, wardrobe, laundry, bakehouse, wood-yard, garner, garden, stable, and almoserie, with the yeoman of his barge, yeoman of his chariot, his master of the horse, saddler, farrier, and muleteer. "Also he had two secretaries, and two clerks of his signet, and four councillors learned in the laws of the realm." Now that he was Chancellor, he was constantly attended by all the officers of the Court, and by four footmen appareled in rich ermine coats. Three great tables were daily laid in his hall for this numerous retinue. Many of the nobility placed their children in his family, and for the purpose of winning his favour, allowed them to act as his servants, although they had a separate table, called "the mess of lords," and had numerous menials to attend them. tion, to repair unto the Cardinal's house, such pleasures "When it pleased the King's majesty, for his recreawere then devised for the King's comfort and consolation as might be invented or by man's wit imagined. The banquets were set forth with masks and mummeries, in so gorgeous a sort and costly manner, that it was a heaven to behold. There wanted no dames or damsels meet or apt to dance with the maskers, or to garnish the place for the time with other goodly disports. There was there all kind of music and harmony set forth, with excellent voices, both of men and children." march to the Court at Greenwich on Sundays,-riding We have likewise very picturesque descriptions of his through Thames Street on his mule, with his crosses, his pillars, his hat, and the Great Seal, till he came to Billingsgate, where he took his barge, and of the gorgeous celebration of mass in his chapel, where he was attended by Bishops and Abbots. Such was his haughtiness, that he made Dukes and Earls to serve him with wine, and to hold the basin and lavatories. But for our purpose the most interesting pageant he exhibited was his procession from York House to the Court of Chancery in Westminster Hall. [We omit the description of the dresses and properties.] There was borne before him first, the Great Seal of England, and then his Cardinal's hat, by a nobleman or some worthy gentleman, right solemnly, bare-headed. And as soon as he was entered into his chamber of presence, where there was attending his coming to await upon him to Westminster Hall, as well noblemen and other worthy gentlemen, as noblemen and gentlemen of his own family; thus passing forth with two great crosses of silver borne before him; with also two great pillars of silver, and his pursuivant at arms with a great mace of silver gilt. Then his gentlemen ushers cried, and said, "On! my Lords and Masters, on before; make way for my Lord's Grace." Thus passed he down from his chamber to the Hall; and when he came to the Hall door, there was attendant for him his mule, trapped altogether in crimson velvet and gilt stirrups. When he was mounted, with his cross-bearers and pillarbearers, also upon great horses trapped with fine scarlet. Then marched he forward. The Cardinal's procession from York House to the Court of Chancery, is described as an interesting pageant." There was certainly mummery enough about it, nay an imposing grandeur, borrowed from the character and bearing of the personage who played the principal rôle. Yet how meanly, to the reflective minds of modern men, does it contrast with the simple dignity with which Sir Thomas More filled the same post! Even then the pantomimic pomp of the Lord Chancellor called forth gibes and ridicule. It was a common saying, that "the two crosses showed that the Cardinal had twice as many sins to repent of as any other prelate." The pulpit likewise occasionally resounded with invectives against him. Doctor Barnes, afterwards burnt for heresy, having showed his independent spirit by inveighing against the pomp and luxury of the Cardinal, was summoned before him, and received this admonition: "What, Master Doctor! had you not a sufficient scope in the Scriptures to teach the people but yon; but that my golden shoes, my poll-axes, my pillars, my golden cushions, and my crosses did so far offend you, that you must make us ridiculum caput amongst the people? We were jollily that day laughed to scorn. Verily, it was a sermon more fitter to be preached on a stage than in a pulpit." Barnes answered, that he had spoken nothing but the truth out of the Scriptures, according to his conscience, and was for that time discharged. With the exception of his prosecution of Buckingham, Wolsey showed no inclination to blood or cruelty. In estimating Wolsey's capacity as a judge, Lord Campbell, himself a thorough lawyer, is naturally rather surprised how he got through business, without exposing himself to ridicule for ignorance of law. Yet, in spite of professional disqualification, Wolsey was not only a popular and a pure judge, but he introduced many improvements into the administration of justice. Notwithstanding his leaning towards Wolsey, Lord Campbell pronounces him solely chargeable with the judicial murder of the Duke of Buckingham; an act which may be said to have remotely laid the foundation of his own misfortunes. His bold attempt, incited by his royal master, in the plenitude of power, to levy money without the consent of Parliament, also contributed to his ruin; though its immediate and main cause was his coldness, if not opposition, to the King's passionate wish to divorce Queen Catherine, that he might gratify his inflamed desires by marrying Anne Boleyn. A momentous event at this time is thus noticed : In the beginning of the following year, when Wolsey had been in daily danger of disgrace, he was very near reaching the grand object of his ambition, the triple crown. Clement VII. had a dangerous fit of illness, and for some time his recovery was despaired of. Historians are agreed that if he had actually died at this juncture, Wolsey, in all probability, would have been his succesThis event would have had a most powerful influence on the fate of the Western Church, and might have entirely changed the history of our country. Wolsey, a much abler, and more enlightened man than Clement, would probably have stopped the Reformation, or given it a new direction; and he certainly would have kept England true to the Papal see, sor. by granting Henry his divorce, and conferring new honours upon him as Defender of the Faith. But Clement rose, as it were by miracle, from the grave, Wolsey was disgraced, and England became Protestant. Previous to the King's passion for Anne Boleyn, Wolsey, who had become hateful to every class of the people, save servile and expectant courtiers and churchmen, was somewhat shaken in the King's favour. Baffled by the Parliament in one instance, he made a second attempt to levy a tax of a sixth of every man's property, for the King's use, and began with the citizens of London; haughtily warning them to obedience, lest "it might fortune to cost some of them their heads." Now, says Lord Campbell, The rich and poor agreed in cursing the Cardinal as the subverter of their laws and liberties; and said, "if men shall give their goods by a commission, then it would be worse than the taxes of France, and England would be bond, and not free." Happily the commissioners met with forcible resistance in several counties; and such a menacing spirit was generally displayed, that the proud spirit of Wolsey quailed under it, and he was obliged not only to pardon all concerned in these tumults, but, on some frivolous pretext, to recede altogether from the illegal exaction. This was a great crisis in our constitution; for if Wolsey could have procured the submission of the nation to the yoke he attempted to impose, there would have been an end of parliaments for all ordinary purposes, although, like the States-General of France, they might still have been convoked to ratify certain acts of state originating with the executive government. But the courage and love of freedom natural to the English Commons, speaking in the hoarse voice of tumult, and resorting to the last right of insurrection, preserved us in so great a peril. Various attempts were made to open the eyes of the king to the misconduct of the minister, and even the stage was resorted to for this purpose. 66 The Masque is described at length; and whether meant at him or not, "The plaie" says Hollinshed, sore displeased the Chancellor," a "guilty conscience" leading him to apply the moral to himself. But his embassies, his entertainments, and pageants, continued to be as splendid as ever; for the "cunning chastity" of the ambitious maid of honour, and her vacillating opposition to the royal desires, though they had shaken, had not yet quite subverted his power. The Cardinal had by this time become the object of Anne Boleyn's hatred, as an imagined obstacle in her path; and, while the tedious suit for the divorce was proceeding, she and her kinsmen lost no opportunity of undermining Wolsey with her royal lover, as soon as this policy had become safe. There was "a Night Crow," as Wolsey had termed Anne," which possessed the royal ear, and misrepresented the most harmless of his actions." Anne Boleyn is no favourite with Lord Campbell, though he does her justice. She is one of those personages that, in the eyes of posterity, would be contemptible or hateful, if the monstrous and remorseless cruelty of which she became the victim, did not soften the judgment of her character, which no extenuating circumstance can wholly blind. The account of Wolsey's downfal, is written by Lord Campbell in a style which deeply interests the feelings, even with the full remembrance of |