minated on the 15th April, 1822. He was buried in the cloisters of Westminster Abbey, near the remains of his master, Dr. Cooke. The inscription on the monumental tablet near the spot is prefaced by the first notes of Pergolesi's air, O Lord! have mercy upon me,' and it records with perfect truth, that 'he possessed qualities which are seldom united-a lively enthusiasm and an exact judgment.'

Bartleman stood alone in that branch of the profession to which he belonged. The musical records of our country afford no similar instance of a concert singer acquiring the reputation and the influence which he acquired. Nor were these attained by unworthy means. He never sought popularity by descending to the level of his hearers, but obtained it by elevating their tastes to his own. Singers are usually either passive instruments in the hands of others, or if they have power it is too often used with a sole reference to their own advantage. Bartleman was the real head and chief of every orchestra that he entered; and he obtained the deference which was paid him not only by his superior attainments as a musician and a singer, but because it was well known that these were always subservient to the interests of his art. He was accused of being intolerant, bigoted, dogmatical, and exclusive, and it will not be denied

that the charge is in a certain degree true. But it must also be admitted that without a decided preference for that style of vocal writing which he regarded as most worthy the attention of an English singer, the public would have remained in ignorance of even the existence of those compositions which especially distinguish and ennoble the English school. Purcell's finest bass songs were written not for the display of any existing singer's powers, but rather to afford fit employment for the talents of one of future generations. They awaited the coming of Bartleman, and then for the first and the last time the unrivalled genius of their author appeared. Aided by his talents the English school displayed all its characteristic excellences, and when these were withdrawn it declined. It is true that he never willingly appeared as a public performer except with his own select companions, but the result was a more perfect exhibition of that style of vocal music which they especially culti vated than has ever been heard since. Associated with Harrison, Knyvett, and Vaughan, to whom his will was law, no composition in which they were jointly engaged was ever heard in public while the slightest imperfection of any kind remained. `As long as this polish was given to the English glee it retained its popularity, but it declined after Bartleman's death.

THE DEMON CHAIN.

A Legend of the Swedish Counts of Piper.

THE family of Piper, in Sweden, possess a curious antique chain, to which the following tradition is attached. It was given by the Devil to their founder, in a remote age, as the price of his soul and of those of his descendants, and a promise of worldly prosperity was united to it, while it should be faithfully worn. In the seventeenth century the army of Sweden lay before Copenhagen, under King Charles X. The chief of the Piper family had his station in the trenches, while his brother and heir was posted at Helsingborg, on the Sound, opposite Elsinore. Late at night the latter received an order from his brother, by an unknown messenger, charging him, by the demon's chain, to hurry to Copenhagen. He obeyed, but, on his arrival, the Count declared that he had never despatched the messenger, and that mysterious person disappeared. The mind of the Count became filled with the fear of a supernatural interference, and of coming calamity. His anticipations were realized. He was killed the same night, and, with his last breath, delivered the chain to his brother, declaring that the demon had, by this timely interposition, preserved the infernal pledge to their posterity. It is still worn by the head of the

1853.]

The Demon Chain.

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house, with superstitious care, and its influence is thought to be in no wise impaired. The story was related to the author by Count Piper, of a collateral branch, now Secretary to the Swedish Mission at St. Petersburgh.

Part I.

Where sheer the beetling cliffs ascend above the Baltic foam,
The ancient counts of Piper raised their dark and frowning home,
No gentle knights of chivalry, but Northmen stern and rude,
Meet company were they to dwell in that high solitude!

Of all the race who drew of yore their gallies on the strand,
No restless pirate vexed the sea like bold Count Hildebrand;
But now, by evil fortune foiled and stricken in the fray,
With wrathful schemes of vengeance fired, he in his chamber lay.
Redly the embers of the pine flashed with a dying gleam,
Wildly the storm-beat sea-fowl strove across the casement's beam;
The fitful moon illumed the waves that curled before the gale,
And touched afar, with treacherous light, the flying merchant-sail.
Ah! grant me such a breeze again!' the wounded captain cried,
And charm my trusty bark amidst the dangers of the tide :
Be mine to board the goodly ships which gem the British main,
And beacon all the burghers' coasts from Dantzick to the Seine!

Hark! thou dread Power, of midnight hour, who grimly reigns below,' And barters all the joys of day for dim eternal woe,

Full be my life of gallant strife, of pleasures and of fame,

And brand upon thy vassal roll my tributary name!'

Ere yet the impious accents all had melted on the air

The watchful demon glided forth, and answered thus the prayer:

'Of every right my lieges know I henceforth make thee free,

And with the boon I now bestow thy badge of fealty.

Bind fast this chain upon thy breast, beneath thy shirt of steel,

No lightning then shall strike thy mast, no rock shall rend thy keel;

But fortune still shall point thy prow, and strength shall ply thine oar,
And the deep shall roll its wrecks and its ambers to thy shore.

'Yet many a year of mirth and power shall gaily pass away
Ere I wing the chilling summons to call thee to my sway;
And all thy glory and thy gains shall cleave unto thy line,
While steadfastly they trust upon this magic gift of mine.'

Nor shrank that lord from such weird word, but claspt the cursed spell,
Whose wondrous virtue swiftly proved as swiftly wrought him well.
The fiend again, from mortal ken, hied to his shadowy realm;
When flashed the dawn Count Piper laid his gauntlet on the helm.

Long, by the infernal angels fanned, his flag victorious flew,
And widely o'er the western flood its crimson shadow threw.
He recked him ne'er of holy rood, nor shrift nor penance made,
But, dying, like a vassal true, the demon's call obeyed!

Part I.

Now winter's breath o'er all the straits had laid its icy thrall,
The Swedish drum had waked the Dane by Copenhagen's wall,
And, marching forth, King Charles had set a watch beside the shore,
Where Helsingborg defies the guns of castled Elsinore.

The faggot blazed upon the hearth, the cavaliers around,

With flagon and with festive speech their martial leisure crowned;
The trooper burnished, as he sang, the carbine or the blade,
And shrilly at the forage rack the fretful charger neighed.

When sudden, from the gathering gloom, a stranger horseman spurred, And of their leader earnestly craved for a secret word.

Sir Count!' he said, in haste and dread, 'thy brother doth me speed,
For of thy presence at the camp he stands in pressing need.'

'Now rest thee, welcome messenger, and share our jovial cheer,
To-morrow with the leaguer host our pennon shall appear.'
But altered grew that stranger's mien, as sternly he replied,
'I charge thee, by the demon chain, no longer to abide.'

Then swift across the frozen plain, and by the vaulted keep,*
Where Denmark's fabled champion dwells in old enchanted sleep,
And past the regal fane, whose lake repeats the trembling star,f
And through the glade where roves the shade of love-lost Valdemar.‡
Though long the way, ere break of day, those riders 'lighted down,
Hard by the deadly trench, which pressed the rampart of the town;
They passed among the dusky throng were mustering to the storm,
For in the eager van they knew Count Erick's lofty form.

'Ha! by Saint Bride, a gallant thought, thy laggard post to leave,
And in our desperate venture here some honour to achieve :
But say, what bird of nimble wing was bearer of the tale,
For late resolved our lord the King the order to assail.'

I wot not of the fight, nor yet to share this peril sought,
But by thy urgent envoy moved, my loving service brought;
I would have tarried till the morn, and craved him for my guest,
When darkly, by the demon chain, he pleaded thy behest.'

While thus they spake that horseman strange in silence passed away,
And the shadow of some evil upon their spirits lay;

Around the ranks from mouth to mouth, the whispered signal ran,
With bended brows and 'bated breath then onward went the van.

Loud rang the challenge, and the trump its wild alarum pealed,
The baleful cresset blazing wide the mounting foe revealed:
At every loophole sprang the flash, from every port the flame,
And pouring fast on rattling blast the iron volley came.

Alas! how many a bounding plume of gentle youth went down,
How many a grey-haired soldier of the Gospel and the crown:
But no brighter sword was shivered, and no bolder heart was spent,
Than where upon the blood-dropt soil Count Erick slowly bent.
'Ah, brother dear, that messenger hath bid thee to my doom,
See! from the wreathing battle-clouds he beckons me to come;
But to the vow, be faithful thou, the demon pledged of yore,
And on thy bosom bear the sign which all our fathers bore.'

In sacred verse, with solemn curse, the priest hath banned that chain,
The chemist, in his crucible, hath tried it oft in vain :

Unscathed by fire and godly ire, it keeps the dreadful charm,
And still the house of Piper rules for fortune or for harm.

* The castle of Kronborg, where the Kompe or champion of Denmark reposes for ages, seated on a marble chair, in a vault far below the ground.

The palace of Friedrichsborg, built in a lake.

The forest of Görre, where the ghost of King Valdemar is condemned to rove with spectral hounds, on account of his impious devotion to his dogs and his mistress.

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BERTHA'S LOVE. PART II.