To Rouen, with ravage, the sea-monarch goes,
With merriment savage destroying the foes;
Church, city, and village, they all fared the same,
First given to pillage, then given to flame;

The monks by the halter or cross were all kill'd,
And even on the altar the nuns they defiled,-

All but two or three old ones, whose good saints preserved them.

To Charles, the French monarch, his nobles in rule
Told the march of this anarch :-now Charles was a fool,
Recked nought what was doing, folks did as they please,
Nor whatever was brewing while he had his ease.
So sitting in quiet, he heard them right through,
Then said, "For this riot, to-morrow will do,"
And very composedly sat down to drinking.

He was next day at dinner, lords, ladies, and all,
When Jarl Rollo, the sinner, stalk'd into the hall,
And seating him coolly, sans fashion or form,
Roar'd hoarsely out, "Truly, your climate is warm,
So I'll taste of your liquor before I begin!"

And he snatched up a beaker, and drank to the King.-
"Who the devil art thou?" quoth King Charles rather bluntly.

"Thou shalt find me the devil,-in manners at least,-
An' ye be not more civil to welcome a guest!
They call me Jarl Rollo, the King of the Sea,
And a thousand men follow my raven so free!
We have paid ye a visit on hearing your fame,
To ask you how is it with you and your dame!"

Now King Charles was a churl, for he thank'd not Jarl Rollo.

"Beyond the dark water,” quoth Rollo the Bold, "They boast your fair daughter and treasures of gold; Having plenty of leisure, we came here to seeFor my men is thy treasure! thy daughter for me!— Ye are time-worn and listless, with foes cannot wage, And my power resistless shall shield thy old age." "Grammercy!" quoth the King, "Don't you wish 't was a bargain?'

"What ho!" the Jarl thundered, "my merry men all !"
And some four or five hundred burst into the hall;
Some with young infants pitching from spear unto spear,
The half-dead things screeching, oh! fearful to hear!
And all sat down laughing, wild, reckless, and rude;
Some the merry wine quaffing, some gorging the food,
And others the delicate women caressing.

Then, out roar'd the Sea-king, "My warriors behold!
Yield the treasures I'm seeking, thy daughter, thy gold!
At my name thou hast shook not, nay, bearded my might!
Now, mark me, I brook not such insult and slight!
When I cross the dark water no child's play is mine.
Thy gold and thy daughter, or this fate is thine!"-
And he struck out the brains of a page that stood near him.

As the ghastly mass, shivering, dropt dead and inert,
A grey-goose shaft, quivering, struck Rollo's mail'd shirt,
And a voice was heard shrieking, "Unhand me, ye knaves!"
And a boy to the Sea-king was dragg'd by his slaves.

"

Then the Jarl roar'd out chuckling, " By Woden! ho! ho!
Why, the babe and the suckling will next come as foe!
Did ye think, boy, a Northman's coat thin as a heron's?"-

"A curse on its thickness!" the bold boy replied,
"And a curse on the weakness and youth ye deride!
Had my arm back'd my spirit, foul fiend that thou art,
The fate that ye merit had flown on my dart.-
Thou to wed my loved sister, Gisella the fair!

Thou!-Ev'n God would assist her ere such marriage were!
Take our treasures, and go-but our bright one-oh, never!"

Quoth the Jarl," Mighty pretty, my Dauphin of France!
Now you've finish'd your ditty, let's see how ye dance.
Fling a rope round yon rafter, and hang him thereto :
He'll be taller men, after, an odd inch or two."-

'Mid the Northmen's fierce laughter, their pallid foe's moan,
A rope round the rafter is hastily thrown,

And the noose round the neck of the bold boy placed ready.

Like the moaning blood-chilling of sleeping despair
Rose the wild wail heart-thrilling of Gisella the fair,
And rushing forth madly, she clapsed the Jarl's knee,-
"Oh! take all-all gladly-take treasure-take me-
Only spare my loved brother, our darling, our joy!

By thine own fond dear mother, oh spare my bright boy!"-
"Ha! ha!" roared the Jarl," have you come to your senses?"

Then the boy cried, " No, never, dark demon of pride,
My life to deliver shall she be thy bride."

His words were unheeded, for Charles (call'd the fool)
Had already conceded-child, treasure, and rule-
One claim ere the bridal's permission premised,
"That the Jarl left his idols, and gat him baptized!"
Then the Northmen all laugh'd, and their leader roar'd fiercely.

"I've been christen'd already some ten times before;
But, to pleasure the lady, I'll wash me once more-
Nay, her station to alter more quick than is wont,
Be her spouse at the altar, her son at the font."
So they went and were wedded, the fair to the stern;
And a sight none had dreaded they found on return:
The Northmen had hung the bold boy in their absence!

Then the fair girl, heart-riven, look'd up in despair,
And the vengeance of Heaven forgot not her prayer!
Though the Jarl gat the dukedom of Normandy wide,
Great Heaven rebuked him by means of his bride.
Though he'd lands, castles, treasure, serfs many a one,
He lack'd heart-peace and pleasure, for heir had he none;
And for many a year did Duke Rollo live childless;

Till a wizard right evil, by magic's black art,

Gave the Duke, through the devil, the wish of his heart.

Loud and long the Duke's mirth rose when a glad son there came,
Though then died in the birth-throes Gisella his dame.
But that son, born of evil, God's vengeance fulfill'd—
He was Robert the Devil, and Rollo he kill'd,

And his son was the Norman that conquer'd broad England!

G. E. INMAN.

274

THE ENCHANTED ISLAND.

BY THE AUTHOR OF THE SKETCH-BOOK."

Nume

"THERE are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamed of in our philosophy," and among these may be placed that marvel and mystery of the seas, the island of St. Brandan. Every schoolboy can enumerate and call by name the Canaries, the Fortunate Islands of the ancients, which, according to some ingenious and speculative minds, are mere wrecks and remnants of the vast island of Atalantis, mentioned by Plato as having been swallowed up by the ocean. Whoever has read the history of those isles will remember the wonders told of another island, still more beautiful, seen occasionally from their shores, stretching away in the clear bright west, with long shadowy promontories, and high sun-gilt peaks. rous expeditions, both in ancient and modern days, have launched forth from the Canaries in quest of that island; but, on their approach, mountain and promontory have gradually faded away, until nothing has remained but the blue sky above and the deep blue water below. Hence it was termed by the geographers of old, Aprositus, or the Inaccessible; while modern navigators have called its very existence in question, pronouncing it a mere optical illusion, like the Fata Morgana of the Straits of Messina, or classing it with those unsubstantial regions known to mariners as Cape Flyaway, and the Coast of Cloud Land.

Let not, however, the doubts of the worldly-wise sceptics of modern days rob us of all the glorious realms owned by happy credulity in days of yore. Be assured, O reader of easy faith!· thou for whom I delight to labour-be assured that such an island does actually exist, and has, from time to time, been revealed to the gaze, and trodden by the feet, of favoured mortals. Nay, though doubted by historians and philosophers, its existence is fully attested by the poets, who, being an inspired race, and gifted with a kind of second sight, can see into the mysteries of nature hidden from the eyes of ordinary mortals. To this gifted race it has ever been a region of fancy and romance, teeming with all kinds of wonders. Here once bloomed, and perhaps still blooms, the famous garden of the Hesperides, with its golden fruit. Here, too, was the enchanted garden of Armida, in which that sorceress held the Christian Paladin, Rinaldo, in delicious but inglorious thraldom, as is set forth in the immortal lay of Tasso. It was on this island, also, that Sycorax the witch held sway, when the good Prospero and his infant daughter Miranda were wafted to its shores. The isle was then

"full of noises,

Sounds, and sweet airs, that give delight, and hurt not." Who does not know the tale, as told in the magic page of Shakspeare?

In fact, the island appears to have been at different times under the sway of different powers, genii of earth, and air, and ocean, who made it their shadowy abode; or rather, it is the retiring place of old worn-out deities and dynasties, that once ruled the poetic world, but are now nearly shorn of all their attributes. Here Neptune and Amphitrite hold a diminished court, like sovereigns in exile. Their ocean-chariot lies, bottom upward, in a cave of the island, almost a perfect wreck, while their pursy Tritons and haggard Nereids bask listlessly like seals about the rocks. Sometimes they assume a shadow of their ancient pomp, and glide in state about the glassy sea, while the crew of some tall Indiaman, that lies becalmed with flapping sails, hear with astonishment the mellow note of the Triton' shell swelling upon the ear, as the invisible pageant sweeps by. Sometimes the quondam monarch of the ocean is permitted to make himself visible to mortal eyes, visiting the ships that cross the line, to exact a tribute from new-comers; the only remnant of his ancient rule, and that, alas! performed with tattered state, and tarnished splendour.

On the shores of this wondrous island the mighty kraken heaves his bulk, and wallows many a rood; here, too, the sea-serpent lies coiled up, during the intervals of his much-contested revelations to the eyes of true believers; and here, it is said, even the Flying Dutchman finds a port, and casts his anchor, and furls his shadowy sail, and takes a short repose from his eternal wanderings.

Here all the treasures lost in the deep are safely garnered. The caverns of the shores are piled with golden ingots, boxes of pearls, rich bales of oriental silks, and their deep recesses sparkle with diamonds, or flame with carbuncles. Here, in deep bays and harbours, lies many a spell-bound ship, long given up as lost by the ruined merchant. Here, too, its crew, long bewailed as swallowed up in ocean, lie sleeping in mossy grottoes, from age to age, or wander about enchanted shores and groves, in pleasing oblivion of all things. Such are some of the marvels related of this island, and which may serve to throw some light on the following legend, of unquestionable truth, which I recommend to the entire belief of the reader.

THE ADALANTADO OF THE SEVEN CITIES.

A LEGEND OF ST. BRANDAN.

In the early part of the fifteenth century, when Prince Henry of Portugal, of worthy memory, was pushing the career of discovery along the western coast of Africa, and the world was resounding with reports of golden regions on the main land, and new-found islands in the ocean, there arrived at Lisbon an old bewildered pilot of the seas, who had been driven by tempests, he knew not whither, and who raved about an island far in the deep on which he had landed, and which he had found peopled with Christians, and adorned with noble cities.

The inhabitants, he said, gathered round, and regarded him with surprise, having never before been visited by a ship. They told him they were descendants of a band of Christians, who fled from Spain when that country was conquered by the Moslems. They were curious about the state of their father-land, and grieved to hear that the Moslems still held possession of the kingdom of Granada. They would have taken the old navigator to church, to convince him of their orthodoxy; but, either through lack of devotion or lack of faith in their words, he declined their invitation, and preferred to return on board of his ship. He was properly punished. A furious storm arose, drove him from his anchorage, hurried him out to sea, and he saw no more of the unknown island.

This strange story caused great marvel in Lisbon and elsewhere. Those versed in history remembered to have read in an ancient chronicle that, at the time of the conquest of Spain in the eighth century, when the blessed cross was cast down, and the crescent erected in its place, and when Christian churches were turned into Moslem mosques, seven bishops, at the head of seven bands of pious exiles, had fled from the peninsula, and embarked in quest of some ocean island, or distant land, where they might found seven Christian cities, and enjoy their faith unmolested.

The fate of these pious saints errant had hitherto remained a mystery, and their story had faded from memory. The report of the old tempest-tossed pilot, however, revived this long-forgotten theme, and it was determined by the pious and enthusiastic that the island thus accidentally discovered was the identical place of refuge whither the wandering bishops had been guided by a protecting Providence, and where they had folded their flocks.

This most excitable of worlds has always some darling object of chimerical enterprise. "The Island of the Seven Cities now awakened as much interest and longing among zealous Christians as has the renowned city of Timbuctoo among adventurous travellers, or the North-east Passage among hardy navigators; and it was a frequent prayer of the devout, that these scattered and lost portions of the Christian family might be discovered, and re-united to the great body of Christendom.

No one, however, entered into the matter with half the zeal of Don Fernando de Ulmo, a young cavalier of high standing in the Portuguese court, and of most sanguine and romantic temperament. He had recently come to his estate, and had run the round of all kinds of pleasures and excitements, when this new theme of popular talk and wonder presented itself. The Island of the Seven Cities became now the constant subject of his thoughts by day and his dreams by night; it even rivalled his passion for a beautiful girl, one of the greatest belles of Lisbon, to whom he was betrothed. At length his imagination became so inflamed on the subject, that he determined to fit out an expedition at his own expense, and set sail in quest of this sainted island. It could not be a cruise of any great extent; for, according to the calculations of the tempest-tossed pilot, it must be somewhere in the latitude of the Canaries, which at that time, when the new world was as yet undiscovered, formed the frontier of ocean enterprise. Don Fernando applied to the Crown for countenance and protection. As he was a favourite at court, the usual patronage was readily extended to him; that is to say, he re