guise of compliment, that if I thought I had an enemy whom it would mortify, I would print every one. They are a perfect nosegay; as grateful to the mind, as a violet's perfume to the sense. One of them I must give, it is so quaint, hearty, and well meant. To Sir Geoffrey Oldcastle, Gent., Author of the Canterbury Magazine. ADMIRABLE GEOFFREY !-If my memory serves me with fidelity, I think it is Sir Thomas Brown who says that the mutations of the world are ever acting." Nobody, I dare say, will dispute the correctness of his assertion. But, you may think, what have I to do with the notion of such an eccentric person? Or, what do you intend to confirm, by recalling to my mind that which I kenned before?— Have patience. Rein your thoughts, and hear the end of the matter. It is this -I simply wish to inform you, that I cannot erase from the minds of some of the Kentish tyros in the mazes of literature, the thought that "the mutations of the world" will militate against your periodical. Well-well-let them alone; time changes all human affairs, and in its progress I guess they will be undeceived.Nay, I have an inkling eviction that they will alter their opinions; for, though the notions they formed of your MAGAZINE, from the time it was first announced to be established, were commonly given utterance to in the following sentences, in which the O was pronounced with a particularly grave accent-“ O, it will never answer! Canterbury is not a place for a Magazine to live in; besides, you may be fully assured, that its articles will have the too obvious characteristics of a party," I have the high satisfaction to inform you, that now many of the individuals who thus expressed themselves, have entirely sent their beforehand notions on a pilgrimage, since they have seen and perused your MAGAZINE. They now fully accord with me when I exclaim, "O! who would not take in Sir GEOFFREY'S MAGAZINE? It is one of the best compositions for the man who is thoughtful, imaginative, curious, critical, etymological, and above all, for every bachelor." Just let such do as I have done, and they will obtain an unconceived amount of felicity. That is--let them peruse it from beginning to end in their arm-chair, with their slippers stuck on the ends of their feet, before they tumble into bed. So much, Sir GEOFFREY, for your encouragement. And rest assured, that, as I have purchased your first number, I shall, nay, am making it a cardinal point of my business to induce every person I know to read, read it, and give me his opinion regarding its merits. Let it suffice, their critical observations are favorable. What I have written is strictly true,-and if I have contributed, in the least degree, to incite you in your literary studies, my end is gained. July 22, 1834. ANGLO SCOTUS. July 24th. I am getting fidgetty. The author of "Hearts,-not Tongues," has not sent the continuation or conclusion. I hope he has not got into a mess and can't get out of it, Perhaps, he does not know what to make of his last heart, or how to unravel his own mystery. It is very foolish to begin a thing before we have determined which way it is to end. July 25th. Just what I expected-indeed worse for there's the Editor of the Kentish Observer unable to send me the account of the interview between NOLL and GREY, because he has not received it from his "special reporter;" and the author of " Hearts—not Tongues" is laid up with the tick douloureux, which, he says, he is always subject to about quarter day. I really think I must write the whole Magazine myself, and then I shall not be exposed to these vexatious disappointments. The reader sees, however, how I am situated with my authors, and I throw myself on his indulgent consideration. With respect to NOLL's interview, I can make some allowances; for, I dare say, GREY'S resignation was in consequence of the "Visit," (it followed so immediately after,) and as the noble Earl did not think proper to allude to the circumstance himself, in his "explanation," it may possibly be a matter of some delicacy, just at present, to say anything about it. Printed for the Proprietors of the Kentish Observer, (by C.W.Banks) at their Office, St. George's Street, Canterbury. THE CANTERBURY MAGAZINE: By Geoffrey Oldcastle, Gent. "AT THAT TRIBUNAL STANDS THE WRITING TRIBE, TIME IS THE JUDGE: TIME HAS NOR FRIEND NOR FOE It often happens that men finding themselves overtaken by dangers which, though they have knowingly provoked, yet have they also much labored to escape, at the last dare them with a desperate sort of defiance. And thus was it now with Sir John Hotham, who, when he saw he was to be proclaimed a traitor to his face, put on a bold swagger, very unlike what had been his deportment till that moment. Hitherto he had remained uncovered; but the moment the pursuivant appeared, he replaced his hat, folded his arms carelessly, and stood with an air of insulting derision to witness the proceeding, directing, every now and then, scornful looks towards the King himself; who observed to those about him, "I can bear this and much more, with patience; for, it is among the wicked maxims of impudent, disloyal men, that bad actions must always be seconded with worse." And when the pursuivant pronounced the words that proclaimed him traitor, he interrupted him, exclaiming, "Now I am a traitor, beware me! It shall go hard, but I will be as good a traitor, as it was my desire to prove myself a loyal subject." "I thank God," observed the King, as he rode away, after the proclamation was ended, "I have the better of that man. No disdain or emotion of passion, I trust, hath transported me, by the indignity of his carriage, to do or say anything unbeseeming myself, or unsuitable to that temper which, in greatest injuries, I think, best becomes a Christian !" This undisturbed greatness of mind, which never forsook the unhappy monarch, in the far sharper trials of it that awaited him, till his "grey dis crowned head," (as he himself affectingly calls it,) was laid upon the block, did not harmonize exactly with the loyal indignation kindled in the breasts of his devoted followers; all of whom loudly upbraided the bold baseness of Sir John's conduct, and some of whom were impatient to punish it according to their own notions of his deserts. But the King discountenanced every proposition for making a private quarrel of an affair of so high importance, which must become matter of debate between him and his parliament; though, as he had too true a presage of what redress he was likely to receive from that body, he permitted several after messages to Sir John, unwilling to neglect any chance of still prevailing with him. They all failed however; for the Knight was now not only smarting under the brand of being a proclaimed traitor, but restrained by the apprehension that he had gone too far ever to be safe; notwithstanding the assurances of full pardon which accompanied these renewed efforts at accommodation. When the resolution was taken to refuse the King entrance, it was proposed, by young Hotham, that previously to drawing up the bridges, the Duke of York, the Prince Elector and their retinue, should be required to leave the place. This advice, however, was considered too likely to embroil them in a double extremity, should they refuse to go, (as it was probable they might, if their coming was linked with the King's;) so it was settled, that a guard should be placed upon them, in Sir John's own house, till the greater business was fairly over. But, towards evening, a message came from the King, desiring his son and nephew to join him. An hour elapsed; when a second message, more peremptory than the first, arrived. Still they were not seen approaching; and the King himself was returning to the walls, to demand them in person, when the cavalcade issued from the Beverley gate. The delay had been occasioned by a long consultation between Sir John, his son, Mr. Pelham, and about half a dozen of the more violent townsmen, upon the expediency of detaining them as hostages, whereby to make better terms with the King, should the Parliament, by disavowing the bold step they had taken, leave them at his mercy. But it was at length determined,to let them depart, from an apprehension that the King might brook so ill their detention, as to employ immediately whatever means he possessed, (and they had no certain knowledge what these means were,) to force the place. Thus ended this too memorable day. The King, with his son, and the Prince Elector, retired to Beverley, and the next morning returned to York, full of trouble and indignation for the affront he had received. Before he set out, he sent a herald, with offers of pardon to Sir John, if he would even then consent to admit him, and a letter to the Mayor, (to be delivered or not, according as the answer of the Knight might be,) signifying that if they abetted him in his treasons, they would themselves become traitors, and stand exposed to all the grievous penalties of so heinous a crime. This last appeal was made in vain; the more inevitably so, because full four hours before the herald arrived, young Hotham was so many hours on his road to London, having taken horse at day-break, that he might be the first to acquaint the Parliament with what had been done. And he was the first. The Houses had heard only of the King's leaving York, and were much alarmed, lest Sir John should be induced, by threats or promises, to deliver up the garrison; for they were well informed, by treacherous persons about the King's person, that it was his Majesty's design to get possession of it, if he could. They were sitting, when Sir John's son reached London, and fatigued, heated, covered with dust and dirt, and all disordered as he was from such a hard journey, he did not draw his horse's rein till he halted before Westminster Hall, then, hastening into the House he took his seat, when Cromwell, Hambden, Pym, Henry Marten, and several more, gathered round him to pluck out the marrow of his news, which he giving in these few words, "Hull is ours," Cromwell fell upon his knees, ejaculating with uplifted eyes, and clasped hands, "Lord! thou hast not helped the ungodly, nor loved those that hate thee!" Henry Marten, the while, playing the droll behind him by screwing his face into a most sanctimonious expression of piety, and lolling his tongue out at young Hotham with the grimace of a merry andrew. The buzz and murmur produced through the House, by this intelligence, became so general, as to interrupt the business they were then upon; when Pym rose, and addressing the Speaker, moved that "they should forthwith receive, from Master Hotham, matters of great moment concerning the interests of the Commonwealth." This was instantly agreed to, and young Hotham proceeded to give a detailed relation of all that had taken place, concluding his account with these words, "Thus hath my father and myself served you-fall back!—fall edge." Great was the exultation and joy that followed; and loud were the praises bestowed upon their trusty governor's faith and fidelity. But in the midst of them, came an express from the King, addressed to the two Houses, complaining of Sir John Hotham's "treason, and" that he had justified his treason and disloyalty by pretence of an order and trust from them, which, as he could not produce, so his Majesty was confident they would not own, but would be highly sensible of the scandal he had laid upon them as well as of his disloyalty to his Majesty; and, therefore, he demanded justice of them against him, according to law." 1 What followed can only be briefly mentioned here. The Parliament vindicated, with all imaginable expressions of duty, affection, and loyalty towards the King, this act of treason and rebellion. They assured his Majesty it was for his good, and the good of his faithful subjects, that he had been thus treated; humbly besought him to be convinced of these truths; disputed with him, (like practised schoolmen,) sophistries of their own creating to supply the place of arguments and hide the deformities of facts, and finally, through a long series of addresses, petitions, ordinances, and resolutions, all of them growing out of this momentous transaction, convinced the King of one thing at least, that pious disguises, soft palliations, and words smoother than oil, were the ready weapons of men who stood with their hands upon their swords, prepared to flash their edges in his face, whenever the time came that they could no longer fill his ears with deluding phrases. Successful crime is apt to lose somewhat of its original character, in its prosperity; as men themselves are accounted by the million, rather according to what they are, than what they should be. Hence, it might be thought that Sir John Hotham, finding himself not only justified in all he had done, but entrusted with still larger powers, to do all which the position of himself, the King, and the two Houses, now rendered necessary, would enter upon the task with an untroubled conscience. But it was not so. He lacked that devotion to the cause which could make him glory in the name of traitor that unreasoning deference to the popular logic by which they, who took up arms for the King, or who in any way declared for him, were denounced as rebels, traitors, and enemies to the public peace. Some of his nearest and dearest connexions in both Houses, (the Lords Matravers, Falconbridge, Lovelace, Grey of Ruthen, and Capel, among them,) were in this predicament. They had left the Parliament, and gone to the King at York, and the Parliament had declared them in consequence, guilty of high crimes and misdemeanors; but as often as Sir John heard them so accused, he felt, in spite of himself, a longing desire that it were in the power of his enemies to accuse him of the same offences. His son, whom we are now to call Captain, for he had accepted a commission from the Parliament, was, (if that were possible,) more wildly enthusiastic, than before, in his admiration of those noble spirits by whom, as he said, the King would be secured in his just rights, the people in their laws, liberties, and consciences, and evil doers, whether in Church or Com monwealth, be brought to punishment. He was now, too, openly associated with his father in the execution of such measures as might be judged necessary for the continued safety of the garrison of Hull; and certainly, all the more active ones, the levying of troops, raising supplies by pillaging the suspected, and encouraging the seditious, by giving them protection, were the fruits of his zeal and energy. War was not yet actually begun; that is, neither the King's nor the Parliament's troops had actually taken the field; but all the preparations for enabling them to do so, by the ordinances of the one, and the commissioners of array of the other, were actively going on over the whole Kingdom. The King, too, frustrated in his design of obtaining arms and ammunition from Hull, was daily expecting, both from the Queen, who had passed into Holland about the same time that he quitted London for York, and where, by means of the crown jewels which she carried with her, she had made large purchases of military stores. These were shipped on board the Providence; and the Parliament having information of the fact, ordered the fleet, (which they had placed under the command of the Earl of Warwick, in defiance of his Majesty, who appointed Sir John Pennington to that post,) to watch the motions of this vessel, should it put to sea. The Providence, however, contrived to escape, though closely chased; and being a light vessel, the Captain ran her aground, upon the Holderness coast, in a small creek, where her pursuers could not follow. But they succeeded in capturing a ketch, which they brought with great triumph into Hull on the 22nd of June, 1642. On board this ketch there happened to be Colonel Ashburnham, and Sir Edward Stradling, (two devoted adherents of the King, and marked men by the Parliament,) and a Frenchman, who lay sick and half dead from the effects of the voyage, in one corner of it. It was with the greatest difficulty they could prevail upon him to come out of his hole; and when, at last, they got him on shore, they were forced to carry him in their arms to the town gaol, where he was secured till they had the governor's orders what further they were to do with him. But Colonel Ashburnham and Sir Edward Stradling were conducted at once before Sir John, who, after a brief conference, directed that they should be confined, for the present, in one of the forts under a strict guard. Ashburnham was the more important of the two prisoners, because he was known to be more in the confidence of the King's party; and, at the suggestion of Captain Hotham, who believed it might be practicable by a little address, to extract from him some secrets, worth communicating to the Parliament, he was sent for, the next day, to undergo the experiment. "You are lately from Holland, Colonel Ashburnham," said Sir John, as soon as he entered the room. "I thought you knew that yesterday;" replied Ashburnham. "So we did," observed Captain Hotham; "but to-day we would fain know why you left it." "Is it a mystery, that men who love their country should seek it?" "Do men who love their country forsake it?" retorted Captain Hotham. "Yes-as we forsake our dearest friends in their bitterest need-to seek for aid," replied Ashburnham calmly. "Our country is sick, almost to death. But I will not lend even a passive countenance to what is false, so tell you I am not from Holland. If it can benefit you to know further, that I was on my way thither, when the Parliament's ships brought me here, you have the benefit in this, my confession." "To carry intelligence, I presume," said Sir John, "from York, to the Queen and the Lord Digby; her Majesty and his Lordship having found, by experience, that letters are dangerous channels for treasonable counsels. He does wisely, however, to keep the sea between him and us. The Parliament has intercepted such proofs of his traitorous designs, besides those for which he fled, that were he, as you are, my prisoner, I could not promise him his head, though he were my brother." |