otherwise very estimable, for it leaves the authors the sport of party or personal bias. The preceding examination of the statements recorded by Bede, and adopted by his followers, will probably induce a belief that the history of England, during the fifth, sixth, and seventh centuries, requires careful revision and much correction.

[Since the preceding pages were in type, Dr. Mackay has published his important work on The Gaelic Etymology of the English Language, 1878, Trubner & Co., which, apart from its philological value, affords irresistible historical evidence against the assumption that the Keltic population of England was exterminated by the Teutonic immigrants; the large amount of linguistic survival precludes the possibility of such a catastrophe. Professor Rolleston observes:"Without going, however, further into this question, I will say that a comparison of the skulls here dealt with, from the stone and bronze periods, with those of the medieval and modern tenants of these islands, coupled with other considerations, and carried on for a considerable number of years, has inclined me to hold that the two pre-historic races, though outnumbered greatly by Anglo-Saxons, are still represented in the population of Great Britain and Ireland."-British Barrows: A Record of the Examination of Sepulchral Mounds in various parts of England, by William Greenwell, M.A., F.S.A. Clarendon Press, 1877, p. 711. If two pre-historic races survive, is it likely that the Kelts were exterminated? If they were, how did the pre-historic races escape extermination ?]

AMY ROBSART-THE STORY OF HER MARRIED LIFE AND HER DEATH.

BY JOSIAH MARPLES.

SOME years ago, when I belonged to a small debating society, the question was proposed for discussion, "Did the Earl of Leicester kill his wife, Amy Robsart ?" Unfortunately, every one in the society believed he did; and it seemed as if there would be no debate. I was therefore asked to lead on the negative side, and to see if it were possible to find out something in favour of the Earl. As the subject was one upon which I was profoundly ignorant, I certainly had the advantage of being unbiassed in my consideration of it; and I came to the conclusion that the verdict would be one of "not proven "if the matter were now brought to trial. Since that time, however, much evidence has come to light in the researches which have been, and are still being, made amongst the manuscripts belonging to the noble families of our land, and in the possession of the governments of our own and foreign countries; and it is because the latest of these discoveries are, to my mind, tolerably conclusive that I am induced to ask your attention to the subject.

I propose, first, to take the account of Amy Robsart's life and death as stated by Sir Walter Scott, whose great acquirements as an archæologist should lead us to expect something like truth even in his romances, an anticipation the futility of which will probably be apparent before we have done. I have made a short epitome of his story of Kenilworth, so far as it immediately concerns the subject-matter of our Paper, and I will read it first. I propose then to investigate

the authorities upon which he based it, and to complete the case by laying before you the evidence to be found in contemporary manuscripts and letters.

SIR WALTER SCOTT'S STORY OF KENILWORTH

opens nineteen years after the death of Queen Mary, say in 1577, or sixteen years after the actual death of Amy, who is then introduced as being eighteen years old. She is discovered at Cumnor Hall by an old lover, Tressilian, who has followed her to try to induce her to return to her father, Sir Hugh Robsart, of Lidcote Hall, in Devon, whom she had left against his will, and unmarried. Tony Foster, who appears to be her gaoler, interferes, and Tressilian leaves the house. In the park, however, he encounters Varney, Master of the Horse to the Earl of Leicester, and they fight in the usual melodramatic style, with cloak and sword and dagger, with, of course, the customary result, that the villain is defeated, but saved from just retribution by the appearance of an accomplice. We are shortly told that Amy, by her private but solemn union with England's proudest Earl, was a countess, and that she was waited upon by Janet, Tony Foster's only daughter; that she had been wooed in the woods of Devon; and that the Earl is a Knight of the Garter. Later on follows a wonderful description of an interview between the Queen and the Earls of Sussex and Leicester, in which the marriage of Amy Robsart is discussed-a description which far transcends in vraisemblance even the accounts of modern "special correspondents." It is difficult to imagine that it is entirely without foundation, and that such conversation must have happened, if at all, several years after the death of Amy. During this interview, to shield Leicester, Varney says he is the man who has married Amy, and he is commanded to bring her to Kenilworth on the occasion of the Queen's ensuing visit. Next, so far as we are concerned,

comes the preparation for the revels, and now is introduced the motive for Leicester's supposed crime, the importance of preventing Amy's appearance at Kenilworth, as she declines to adopt the lie told by Varney, and insists that the Earl shall acknowledge her as his Countess. Amy's arrival at the castle follows, and her being secreted in a tower awaiting the arrival of her husband. Then is described her unexpected interview in the garden with the Queen, whom the Earl of Leicester had just left, that she might recover herself from a severe attack of love-making. The scene with Leicester and Amy next comes on, and the Queen nearly discovers the truth; but her threats to Leicester are such that the terrified Amy retracts everything she has just said, and is sent away in the custody of Lord Hunsdon, the Queen's cousin. Varney then makes his appearance, and persuades the Queen that his wife is distracted; but while he gains permission to see her, he is forbidden to remove her from the custody of Hunsdon. As Varney's servant, Leicester obtains admission to Amy, and asks her to take upon herself for a short time the name of Varney's wife; but, eventually, in response to her appeal to his better nature, he determines to acknowledge her himself, and dare the anger of Elizabeth; and, in the privacy of his chamber, he looks over the list of his friends to see what power he can command to save him from that which he richly deserves-the headsman's axe. Varney, however, succeeds in persuading him of the possibility, nay, the probability, that Amy is untrue to him; and then, after a terrible scene, they have further conference together, and, the Earl being convinced of her unfaithfulness-the more readily that she is just now much in his way -they pass an hour in close consultation as to how she is to be got rid of. She is pronounced by the Queen's physician to be insane, and ordered away from the castle in the custody of her supposed husband, Varney. Next comes the duel

between Tressilian and the Earl, after which the latter tells the former that Amy is as surely Countess as he is belted Earl, and he expresses himself as deceived by Varney, and determines once more to confess all to the Queen. This he does, and then ensues the scene in which he is disgraced; when, had Elizabeth not been reminded of her dignity by Burleigh, the whole Court would have witnessed what it was to incur the jealous anger of a Tudor Queen. The marriage was made known by Elizabeth herself, who announced her determination to make its public celebration a part of the festivities of her visit. Tressilian and Raleigh are sent to bring back Amy, and to arrest Varney. Then follows the last actthe confinement of Amy in Foster's own room at the top of a long flight of stairs, and with a small drawbridge close to the door, so arranged that a "mouse's weight" would carry it down when it was properly set; then the device of Varney going outside, rattling his horse's feet on the stones of the courtyard, and giving the peculiar whistle by which the Earl was accustomed to announce his arrival. Amy, who expects him, opens the door, and steps on the drawbridge. to go to meet him. "There was a rushing sound-a heavy fall-a faint groan-and all was over."

Varney looks in at the window, and says: "Is the bird caught? Is the deed done?' 'O God forgive us!' replied Anthony Foster. Why, thou fool,' said Varney, 'thy toil is ended, and thy reward secure. Look down into the vault

-what seest thou ?'

"I see only a heap of white clothes, like a snow-drift,' said Foster. O God, she moves her arm !'

"Hurl down something on her. Thy gold chest, Tony; it is an heavy one.'

'Varney, thou art an incarnate fiend!' replied Foster. 'There needs nothing more-she is gone!""

It is not necessary to follow the story any further, except