my fate! but think not your wickedness shall triumph! No; I feel now a strong assurance, that Virtue and Innocence shall meet with their reward!'

"And so they shall!' exclaimed a voice from behind the pannelling. In another instant part of the oaken wainscot was removed, and a large made man stalked into the room. The two speakers looked with surprise on the intruder-it was Justice Ingleby.

""A way!' cried he to his son, ' unworthy scion of an ancient and honourable stock; hasten away from thy native land! I have heard but too strong proofs of thy guilt from thy own lips! Away! or I must forget the father in the magistrate. Even now one of thy comrades offered to betray thee, but I could not believe his story till it was conArmed by what I have overheard. By this time he must have reached the house of the next justice, and the officers may even now be in pursuit of thee! Take this, ' handing him a bag of gold,' and never more-let me-be-behold thy face!'

"In an agony of grief, the old man sunk in a swoon in the arms of Mayfield. Ere he recovered, his unworthy son was on his way to the ocean, on whose waves he afterwards did so much for his country as to redeem the errors of his former years.

"The true cause of his sudden disappearance was concealed with great difficulty by the old Squire. Mayfield was liberated, and shortly after united to Mary Ormerod. The justice let them a considerable farm, for which he always refused the rent; and was ever after extre

mely cautious to hazard the li berty or life of a fellow-being on the strength of Circumstantial Evidence, however strong and apparently conclusive!"

J-s W-DW-D.

THE YEW TREE.

The Yew Tree (called Taxus, probably from the Greek, which signifies swiftness, and may allude to the velocity of an arrow shot from a yew-tree bow,) is a tree of no little celebrity, both in the military and the superstitious history of England. The common yew is a native of Europe, of North America, and of the Japanese Isles. It used to be very plentiful in England and Ireland, and probably also in Scotland. Cæsar mentions it as having been abundant in Gaul; and much of it is found in Ireland, imbedded in the earth. The trunk and branches grow very straight; the bark is cast annually; and the wood is compact, hard, and very elastic. It is, therefore, of great use in every branch of the arts in which firm and durable timber is required; and, before the general use of fire-arms, it was in high request for bows: so much of it was required for the latter purpose, that ships trading to Venice, were obliged to bring ten bow staves along with every butt of Malmsey. The yew was also consecrated-a large tree, or more, being in every churchyard; and they were held sacred. In funeral processions the branches were carried over the dead by mourners, and thrown under the coffin in the grave. The following extract from the ancient laws of Wales will show the value that was there set upon

these trees, and also how the consecrated yew of the priests had risen in value over the reputed sacred misletoe of the Druids :

A consecrated yew, its value is a pound.
A misletoe branch, threescore pence.
An oak, sixscore pence.

Principal branch of an oak, thirty pence.
A yew-tree, (not consecrated) fifteen pence.
A sweet apple, threescore pence.
A sour apple, thirty pence.

A thorn-tree, seven pence halfpenny. Every tree after that, fourpence.

By a statute made in the 5th year of Edward IV., every Englishman, and Irishman dwelling with Englishmen, was directed to have a bow of his own height made of yew, wych-hazel, ash or awburne-that is, laburnum, which is still styled "awburne saugh," or awburne willow, in many parts of Scotland. His skill in the use of the long bow was the proud distinction of the English yeoman, and it was his boast that none but an Englishman could bend that powerful weapon. It seems that there was a peculiar art in the English use of this bow; for our archers did not employ all their muscular strength in drawing the string with the right hand, but thrust the whole weight of the body into the horns of the bow with the left. Chaucer describes his archer as carrying "a mighty bowe;" " and the cloth-yard shaft," which was discharged from this engine, is often mentioned by our old poets and chroniclers. The command of Richard III. at the battle which was fatal to him, was this :

Draw, archers, draw your arrows to the

those bloody battles which attended our unjust contests for the succession to the crown of France. Some of these scenes are graphically described by Froissart.

In the account of the battle of Blanchetagne (the passage of the Somme), just before Crecy, Froissart says: "The Frenchmen defended so well the passage at the issuing out of the water, that they (the English) had much to do. The Genoese did them great trouble with their cross bows. On the other side, the archers of England shot so wholly together that the Frenchmen were fain to give place to the Englishmen*."

At Crecy " There were of the Genoese cross-bows about a fifteen thousand, but they were so weary of going a foot that day, a six leagues, armed with their cross-bows, that they said to their constables, 'We be not well ordered to fight this day, for we be not in the case to do any great deeds of arms; we have more need of rest.' The words came to the Count d'Alençon, who said, ' A man is well at ease to be charged with such a sort of rascals, to be faint and fail now at most need." A storm then ensues, which, and its passing away, are described in Froissart's own singular style. He then continues thus:-"When the Genoese were assembled together, and began to approach, they made a great leap and cry to abash the Englishmen; but they stood still, and stirred not for all that. Then the Genoese again the second time made another leap and a fell cry, and stepped forward a little; and the Englishmen removed not one foot. Thirdly, again they leapt and cried, and went forth till they came within shot. Then they shot fiercely with their cross bows. Then the English archers stept forth one pace, and let fly their arrows so wholly, and so thick, that it seemed snow. When the Genoese felt the arrows piercing through heads, arms, and breasts, many of them cast down their cross-bows, and did cut their strings, and returned discomfited. When the French king saw them fly away, he said, • Slay these rascals, for they shall lett and trouble us without reason.' Then ye should have seen the men of arms dash in among them, and killed a great number of them; and ever still the Englishmen shot were as they saw thickest press. The sharp arrows ran into the men of arms, and into their horses; and many fell, horse and men, in the midst of the Genoese; and when they were down, they could not relieve again, the press was so thick that one overthrew another*."

At Poitiers-" Then the battle began on all parts, and the battles of the Marshals of France approached, and they set forth that were appointed to break the array of the archers. They entered a horseback into the way where the great hedges were on both sides, set full of archers. As soon as the men of arms entered, the archers began to shoot on both sides, and did slay and hurt horses and

knights; so that the horses, when they felt the sharp arrows, they would in no wise go forward, but drew aback, and flang and took on so fiercely that many of them fell on their masters, so that for press they could not rise again, in so much that the Marshals' battle could never come at the prince. ..... True to say, the archers did their company that day great advantage; for they shot so thick that the Frenchmen wist not on what side to take heed*."

At the battle of Aljabarota, in Portugal, fought in the carly part of Richard the Second's reign, between the Kings of Portugal and Spain, the former aided by John of Gaunt, with an English force, and the latter by volunteers from France and Béarn, the English archers distinguished themselves greatly: indeed they chiefly contributed to win the battle, one of the bloodiest even of that time, by the total impossibility of bringing the horses to advance, or even stand fast under the arrows. Thus Froissart describes the encounter :

"The same Saturday was a fair day, and the sun was turned towards even-song. Then the first battle (of the Spaniards) came before Aljabarota, where the King of Portugal and his men were ready to receive them. Of these French Knights there were a thousand spears, as fresh and well ordered men as could be devised; and, as soon as they saw their enemies, they joined together like men of war, and approached in good order till they came within a bow

shot; and, at their first coming, there was a hard rencounter, for such as desired to assail, to win grace and praise, entered into the straight way, where the Englishmen by their policy had fortified them. And, because the entry was so narrow, there was great press, and great mischief to the assailants; for such English archers as were there shot so wholly together that their arrows pierced men and horses, and when the horses were full of arrows they fell upon one another..... There were many of the Lords and Knights of France and Béarn taken and slain, and all their companies that were entered within the strait; their horses were so hurt with the archers that they fell on their masters, and one upon another. There these Frenchmen were in great danger, for they could not help one another, for they had no room to enlarge themselves or to fight at their will*."

It is to be observed that long after the introduction of firearms in the fourteenth century, the bow continued to be a principal instrument of war. The bow was used at Agincourt and at Flodden. The use of the bow as a weapon of war, or of the chase, has ceased in this country; but archery is still followed as an amusement; and though some of the foreign woods have more elasticity, the best bows of native growth are certainly those made of the yewtree.

The yew has often attained a very great size in each of the three kingdoms, though the

* Lord Berners' Froissart: Ed. 1812.

Vol. ii, chap. 34.5

specimens now remaining in Scotland and Ireland be but few. In the first of those countries, Queen Mary's yew at Crookstone was much celebrated, though probably more on account of the princess with whose history it was connected, than any peculiarity in its own magnitude. The trunk of a large yew, found by Pennant in the churchyard of Fortingal, in Perthshire, though wasted to the outside shell, and with only a few leaves at one point, is quoted by him as being fifty-six feet and a half in circumference, or about eighteen feet in diameter.

The yew tree at Mucruss abbey, in Ireland, has a trunk about six and a half in circumference, and fourteen feet high, which terminates in a head that fills the area of the cloisters.

In England and Wales, some very large specimens are mentioned. According to Evelyn, the Crowhurst yew was thirty feet in circumference; that at Braburne churchyard, in Kent, was nearly twenty feet diameter, although it had been dismantled by storms; and at Sutton, near Winchester, there was, as Evelyn quaintly says, " such another monster." At Hedsor, in Buckinghamshire, there was lately, if there be not still, one in health and vigor, full twenty-seven feet in diameter. In the woods of Cliefden, near Hedsor, there are some extraordinary remains of these trees, whose roots, apparently of vast age, twine about the chalk rocks in the most fantastic shapes,

Considering the immense size to which the yew grows, and the strength, durability, and even beauty of its timber, one cannot help regretting that, when those great trees shall have yielded, as yield they must, to the destructive power of time, there should not be a succession. It is true that, in consequence of the great improvement of the iron manufacture, and the cheapness of that article, it can be applied to many purposes for which the great strength of the yew was well adapted.

The custom of clipping yews into fantastic shapes was much practised in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. Some of our churchyards still have their yew-trees, thus cut into the pretended likenesses of birds and beasts. At Bedfont, in Middlesex, there are two celebrated trees, whose branches are annually shaped into something like the form of a peacock, with a date shewing when this piece of useful labour was first performed. We think it is 1708. The Romans, as we learn from Pliny's letters, cut their evergreens into the fantastic shapes of birds and beasts. Lord Bacon, with his wonted good sense, protested against this practice, which was the fashion of his time. "I, for my part." he says in his Essays, " do not like images cut out in juniper and other garden stuff; they be for children."

THE LEGEND OF FLIXTON.

(For the Portfolio.)

A DEEP gloom hung over, and a portentous silence reigned throughout the venerable manor-house of Flixton. The lord of this superb and spacious mansion wandered from chamber to chamber in a state of the deep

est grief and abstraction, for the lady of Flixton was waning from this life, even as the moon waxes paler and paler at the break of day until she looks upon us no more. In the chamber of Dame Dorothea Adair, a dim twilight gleamed through the nearly closed curtains, the step of those who trod therein was noiseless, nor did a whisper, a breath, disturb the awful stillness of that apartment, wherein the dissolution of a living sentient being was shortly expected. The lady slept, and every change that passed over her pale and withered countenance was watched with the intensest interest by Adelaide, her young and afflicted daughter. Dame Dorothea, upon awaking, asked in a faint voice to see her husband, and Sir Mortimer instantly obeyed her summons :" I sent for you," saith the dying lady with difficulty, " in order to urge my last request. Farewel, Mortimer! Farewel, Adelaide! bury me without a coffin upon the roof of the house; raise a brick vault over me, cover' it with lead, and so shall those who would know the meaning of that singular mound upon the roof of Flixton Hall, understand the vanity of mortal wealth and honour." So saying, the lady Dorothea Adair expired, to the infinite grief of her husband, daughter, and the tenantry of Flixton. To comply with her dying injunction, however, was far from the intention of Sir Mortimer. "I cannot," said he, "submit to render Flixton Hall a gazing and laughing-stock to the idle and malevolent; the request of the defunct originated undoubtedly in the delirium of