THE GARDEN OF ESTELLA. BY G. R. CARTER, ESQ. Haunted Eden-unto me To light the spirit on its way! Haunted home-of one more fair Sweet bow'r-the heaven that beams on thee Is azure as thy syren's eyes; And clouds are wandering o'er its sea, And she-thy genius-sit and sings, Thy Naiades wear a bright repose, Seems doubly exquisite and fair! Deal. Estella what a haunt is thine! My languid eyes to thee I turn, LINES GIVEN WITH A KEEPSAKE ON PARTING. Accept, dear girl, this parting gift, "Twill have the charm when thou'rt away, To wake past slumb'ring hours; "Twill joys diffuse, as odours rise From sweet departed flow'rs. When pleasure lights thy speaking eyes, If care or sorrow cloud thy brow, This pledge will kindle hope, and tell When thou art musing on the past For if a joy from Eden reft Is e'er by man possest, It is when Virtue breathes his name, Oxford. HESPERUS. ST. HELENA GOSSIPS. Women are often accused of gossiping, but we are not aware that it has ever been the subject of legal penalties, except at St. Helena, where, among the ordinances promulgated in 1709, we find the following:-" Whereas, several idle, gossiping women make it their business to go from house to house, about this island, inventing and spreading false and scandalous reports of the good people thereof, and thereby sow discord and debate among neighbours, and often between men and their wives, to the great grief and trouble of all good and quiet people, and to the utter extinguishing of all friendship, amity, and good neighbourhood; for the punishment and suppression whereof, and to the intent that all strife may be ended, charity revived, and friendship continued, we do order, that if any women, from henceforth, shall be convicted of tale-bearing, mischief-making, scolding, or any other notorious vices, they shall be punished by ducking or whipping, or such other punishment as their crimes or transgressions shall deserve, or the governor and council shall think fit." THE BENSHEE; OR, HAUNTED WELL. BY THE AUTHOR OF "TALES OF IRISH LIFE," &c. On the right-hand side of the little by-road which conducts the traveller from the famous bog of Monela to the northern range of the Sliew-bloom mountains, stands the uninhabited mansion of a gentleman named Fitzpatrick, who has, if we believe the neighbouring peasantry, a better apology than many of his countrymen for being an absentee. The history of his family, as related by the country people, develops the superstitious notion respecting that harbinger of death-the Benshee. were, The Fitzpatricks of Ossory and the Ormonds of Kilkenny, for centuries, deadly foes. More than one of the illustrious house of Butler were prisoners of their implacable enemeis; and, in the reign of Charles the First, the celebrated There is an old painting in Trinity College, Dublin, representing the treacherous capture of a Duke of Ormond by the chieftain of Leix, the friend of the Fitzpatricks. Duke of Ormond completely destroyed the power of the Fitzpatricks, and annexed Durrow, their patrimony, to his own possessions, since which time that district, though nearly surrounded by the Queen's County, forms part of the county of Kilkenny. Some ages previous to this period, one of the Butlers having overrun Lower Ossory, and, as usual, having slaughtered most of the inhabitants, the heir of the house of Fitzpatrick found refuge in the castle of O'More, the chieftain of Leix. The chivalrous spirit of the times inculcated such elevated notions of honor, that friendship and unlimited confidence were synonymous; while the man who was admitted a guest never had his actions regarded with suspicion. Treachery was out of the question; for justice was then so summary, that life was the immediate forfeit of an unworthy action. No wonder, then, that O'More took no precaution to prevent any improper intimacy between Fitzpatrick and his only daughter -a lady who possessed, in an eminent degree, all those charms which superadd to the attractions of youth and beauty, The consequence of parental neglect on this occasion was fatal; and, as the story goes, continues yet to blast the happiness of the descendants of one of the party. The chieftain's lovely daughter naturally attracted the attention of her father's guest, who was about her own age; and, as no restraint was placed upon their interviews, they soon learned to feel mutual happiness in each other's company. They were indiscreet; and, to their horror, discovered that a knowledge of their criminal conduct must soon take place, as the daughter of the chieftain was pregnant. There remained for them no expectation of pardon; for they knew with O'More nothing could palliate their crime, and that the lives of both must fall a sacrifice to his wounded honor, unless they escaped from his wrath. Under these circumstances, the lovers agreed to fly from Leix, and appointed an evening to meet at a lonely well, to arrange for their departure. The unhappy lady was punctual, but Fitzpatrick was perfidious; he met her at the well, and, while in the act of caressing her, plunged a dagger into her heart! She fell a corpse; her blood tinged the water of the spring, and the faithless lover returned undiscovered to the castle. The chieftain lamented the fate of his child, but never suspected his : guest and the heir of Ossory, for a time, encountered no reproof but that of his own guilty conscience. In a short time Fitzpatrick was restored by O'More to his possessions in Ossory, where he married, and had a numerous offspring. For twenty years he carried in his bosom the assassin's secret, and the memory of his lovely victim had nearly been forgotten, when, one night, as himself and his kerns, during an intestine war, were encamped not far from the fatal spot where he had committed murder, the awful and solemn cry of a benshee was heard to proceed from the well. The guilty chieftain started; but, as if impelled by some supernatural power, he walked towards the spring, and distinctly saw the victim of his treachery, in her ordinary dress of white, sitting beneath the tree that shaded the well, and wringing her hands as if in an agony of grief. He had scarcely gazed on her, when she arose, redoubled her cries, and seemed to approach the place where he stood. At this moment his fears appeared to have overcome him, and, as he exclaimed, Pardon, oh! pardon your murderer!" the apparition gave a hoarse scream, and vanished, like a shadow of the moon, down the valley, still keeping up the cry of the benshee, which was distinctly heard for several minutes. It had scarcely ceased when the sentinel gave the alarm of a sudden attack, and the O'Mores in an instant were in the eamp of the Fitzpatricks. The battle was long and bloody; but, ere the morning sun arose, the heroes of Leix prevailed, and the chieftain of Ossory fell beneath the weapon of his old protector's son, confessing, ere he died, that his was the fatal hand by which the sister of the conqueror was slain. From this time the cry of the benshee was regularly heard at the fatal well, previous to the dissolution of any of the descendants of Fitzpatrick; and, in time, it became so notorious, that the spring acquired the appellation of the " Benshee's Well," a name which it yet retains. No matter whether a Fitzpatrick died in war or peace, abroad or at home, the cry that foretold the sad event was to be heard at the fountain where the apparition was first seen, and where the chieftain's daughter had been so treacherously assassinated by her lover. From this circumstance it was inferred that the Benshee was nothing more nor less than the murdered lady, on whom had been imposed the melancholy |