washing, amounting to upwards of forty pounds; the money was paid, and, as the evening darkened, and Ellen was returning home, through High street, in the Borough, on arriving at the corner of Union street, she suddenly stood before her former friend, whose unhappy appearance, scarcely covered as she was with clothing, must have attracted the attention of the humane. The sight of this woman greatly shocked the young heart of Ellen; her disposition naturally caused her to accost the lost creature, and to listen to an account of sufferings, of no ordinary kind. Ellen pitied the outcast from her soul, and drew from her pocket a little bag, containing a few pence of her own, but most unfortunately it also disclosed to the eyes of the vagrant a view of gold. Dissipation invariably leads to dishonesty, and hunger and despair prompted this woman to commit a theft; she contrived to intoxicate the inexperienced girl, and then to rob her. When Ellen recovered from the effects of her imprudence, she feared to return home, and she wandered about for two days and nights without sleep or food; her tears and anxiety, together with actual starvation, produced an irritability of system which terminated in fever, and she then only was observed by the city police. On their perceiving her pitiable condition, she was lodged in one of those many receptacles for sickness and destitution with which London abounds: proper medicines and nursing soon restored her to health, if not to happiness, and with a small pecuniary relief she was discharged; but whither could she go? Poor, helpless girl! her natural protectors dead and an orphan; with no means of making her sufferings known to the benevolent? In fact, it is impossible to conceive a case of more utter destitution and suffering than that which this young creature did then, and was yet to undergo; and I shall not dwell upon the lengthened privations she experienced, but at once remark, that she was seized for robbery; and neither her protestations of innocence, nor her youth, could influence her former mistress; she was dragged before the magistrates, and committed to prison. Had I then known the circumstances connected with her committal, I could have rendered her most material assistance. I do not for a moment doubt that, if a solicitor had been employed, and counsel retained, Ellen would not only have obtained an acquittal, but that she would have been at the present time a useful member of the community. I shall never cease to regret it was only during, and after her trial, the truth became known to me. I was subpoenaed an evidence in a case of burglary, committed by a man calling himself Edwards;* and, though I knew that a greater villain or more accomplished housebreaker did not live, it was perfectly astonishing to see the ingenuity with which he defended himself. It is remarkable, that a few years ago, this same person was tried for stealing a gold watch from a friend of mine at Drury-lane theatre, and tried for the offence at Clerkenwell, but he there escaped through one of those absurdities in the indictment which abound in our boasted law. Mr. Edwards and I were therefore old acquaintance: in him I recognised a determined and hardened criminal, yet, luckily for himself, he was not known to the recorder or officers of the Old Bailey. He had three eminent counsel to defend him; he brought a woman into court who called herself his wife, to prove an alibi, and a host of well-dressed persons who swore they knew him for different periods, and that he was an honest respectable man. I have no hesitation in saying that by these deep artifices Edwards escaped hanging, though not conviction. The next prisoner placed at the bar was poor Ellen; and the contrast between her pale beautiful features, and the dark scowl of Edwards, produced a strong sensation in court. The timid girl could not answer the interrogatories of the judge, excepting with her tears; no person could say who or what she was, no counsel were retained, no one spoke to her character; and these circumstances, together with her ignorance of the forms of court, operated prejudicially to her case. It was proved that she had received a large sum of money, and absconded; and, though the judge and the jury evidently pitied what appeared to them a sad instance of early depravity, yet, upon the evidence, they were bound to convict. The sentence of the court followed the verdict, "guilty;" it was-" that the prisoner be transported beyond the seas for the term of fourteen years." I do not think Ellen heard, or was aware of the nature of her sentence; she had been in a state of terror from the commencement of the trial; but there was a supplicative upward cast in her beautiful blue eyes, which, with the clasped hands, appeared as if her mind was lifted to heaven, or perhaps her thoughts were *This was an assumed name. There was no count for "an attempt to steal," and, as a guard-chain was attached to the person of the owner, and to the watch, Judge Bayley ruled that it had never been out of his possession. Edwards was therefore acquitted. of her father and mother. I felt so unwell that I could not remain in court, and several persons were also obliged to seek relief in the open street. It was while Ellen awaited her embarkation on board the transport, that I repeatedly visited her cell, and collected the few particulars of her short life. Her resignation in prison was great, but she never ceased to pray that she might soon be joined to her dear parents, and their other children. Perhaps Ellen is now a sainted spirit in heaven. The newspaper accounts of the wreck of the Amphitrite, on the coast of Boulogne, on the 31st of last August, have not yet ceased to ring in the ears of the nation; and Ellen Dun Lonan was one of the 133 female convicts on board who perished. Fault may perhaps be found with the writer of the above; its style may not suit the present taste. It has not perhaps enough of the supernatural, enough of the spirit of Frankenstein or Der Freischutz; or, the antiquary may declare that a tale is but a shadow. I reply, that the story of Ellen Dun Lonan is substantially true, and in it an invaluable moral is given. It shows that misfortune is no respecter of persons;-no class of living beings are invulnerable to its shafts. Dun Lonan was descended from a race of kings, but his daughter was transported a common felon. Oh ye who possess honour, and wealth, and titles, or even ROYALTY, ponder for one moment on the destiny of Ellen Dun Lonan! We do not well know the origin or meaning of the following saying among the Highlanders. It seems to have arisen from a Druidic superstition. "Is mairg'us mathair do mhac a bao "Woe to the mother of a wizard's son when Beltan (May-day) falls on a Thursday." PERIOD OF THE REIGN OF CADWALLON AND IN the collection of letters appended by Dr. Parr to his life of Archbishop Usher, there are two from Mr. Robert Vaughan, of Hengûrt, to the learned primate; in the first of which, our respected countryman proposes some queries as to the year in which the British king retired to Rome, which he says is stated to be anno 680, according to his copy, and which he thinks to be not correct, the great mortality which caused Cadwalader to leave Britain, having occurred, as Mr. Vaughan conceived, and justly so, before that time. But then the British history states that King Cadwalader, in the first instance, retired to Brittany, (not to Rome,) continuing there with his relative, Alan, the prince of that country, eleven years; and then, instead of returning home, he was warned by an angel, or rather by a superstitious monk, to go to Rome to spend the remainder of his days in religious seclusion. The five years he is said to have survived there, with eleven years in Brittany, subtracted from the year 680, will make the time of his leaving Britain to be anno 664, which Mr. Vaughan considers to have been the year of the great mortality. As to the historian Bede, he does not help us out of this difficulty, for he makes the death of Cadwallon to be during the reign of Oswald in Northumbria, and by whom, as he narrates, he was defeated in battle, and slain, and that in the year 634; whereas, the British history tells a very different tale that the great warrior lived to fight with Ŏswy, the successor of Oswald, and survived Penda, the Mercian king, his kinsman by affinity, and his powerful associate in arms; having reigned forty-two years, and a turbulent reign The death of Cadwallon is extended to the year 660, commencing, according to that account, in 618. But we can hardly think it probable that so great a warrior and so ferocious a man as Cadwallon should reign for so long a time; however, that point conceded, it agrees with the character of Cadwalader, that so quiet a prince, different altogether from the father, should, after reigning four years, think of resigning his dignity. As to the pestilence which now prevailed, it was like that of the preceding century, most probably preceded and accompanied by a dearth, it was. caused, at least in part, by a dreadful state of warfare, for Cadwallon had made many enemies, all ready to take advantage of his demise. Thus, of the last two British kings who had any domains to the eastward of the Dee and the Severn in Cheshire and Shropshire, the one was as warlike as the other was pacific. The real state of affairs on the borders of Wales at that time it is difficult to ascertain. The wars of Cadwallon with the Northumbrian princes is narrated by Bede, who takes no notice of the ravages of Edwin in Wales, and the provocation given him to avenge himself on his perfidious foster-brother, who had ravaged North Wales, and kept possession for seven years, while the prince was obliged to seek refuge in Ireland. As to the elegiac strains of Llywarch, they bear no evident allusions to the death of his lord and patron, as the bard only mentions his victories in Wales, pursuing him from one region to another, and then concludes with the wish, that fate would guide him onward to the plains of Melved, in Northumbria. Does he mean to avenge his fall?-if so, Cadwallon died not in Wales, but in the North. "I am weary of conjectures, here I end them." J. HUGHES. Duine duth dan, A dark haired man is daring, A fair haired man is tedious, A brown haired man is unexceptionable, And a red haired man is scornful. |