t, i 955 M745' CbiseB x^-s -y tT;? 9 r.K...yf../, ,// M O JV KI S li >I TS T li K 111. S, Z"-„./^„ If.l/A.;- -t-f/aoi. MONKISH MYSTERIES; OE, THB MIRACULOUS ESCAPE: CONTAINING THE HISTORY AND THE VILLANIES OF THB a^onfe IBetttann; ^ DETECTION OF HIS IMPIOUS FRAUDS, AND SUBSEQUENT REPENTANCE AND RETEIBUTION. i • To his own breast Thus conscience turns th' assassin's knife. And makes him deeply feel the stab he gave • Anon. Hoit^on : Printed for T. Horst, No. 32, Paternoster-Ro\r ; And sold bv J. Wallis, and T. Huohes, Paternoster-Rowj C. Cma»» pLfe.Pall-Mall; T. Dean, Newgate-street ; J. Dingle, Bury; T, Gibbons, Bath; Mr. Richards, and Mr. Gray, Plvmonthj Messrs. CLA&Ksaud Co. Maucheyterj & Hak&op aadTuRNiK, I^uttiiigbiuu, ^ MONKISH MYSTERIES; m%, THE MIRACULOUS ESCAPE. A, >BOUT sixteen years ago, Fredericus, of the house of .:^>I. — became Prince and Bishop of the city of S. — and its Independencies. His courtiers failed not to enforce the doc- trine of divine right and arbitrary power, which the people resisted with so much firmness, that the new sovereign found it expedient to call in the aid of religion; but, alas! he soon perceived that the age of bigotted influence was gone, and that the world sought more to be happy here, with beauty and affluence, than to wait for the pleasures of the world to come. This dereliction was a source of great unhappines* / to Fredericus, because it relaxed the morals of the people, and the advantages of the chifth. — Yet he was not discou- raged at bringing about a reformation, by the help of fast- ing, penance, humiliation, and ceremonial acts, which he immediately ordered to be carried into execution. At this lime in the convent of the Franciscans lived a ghastly Monk, who was in his manner deeply sanctified, in his austerities remarkably severe, and in his admonitions the Scourge of vice and irreligion. One day, when the Bishop preached pontifically, the holy man, with tottering and hurried steps, made his way to the pulpit. — His dress exhibited the greatest disorder, and from the knotty parts of his scourge large drops of blood fell on his bare teet. — Having ascendtd the pulpit, after praying some time he fix d his eye on the large cross that stood at ■ the high altar, andoet up a piercing moan. — A second groan followed, and thrn he informed the awe-stricken congrega- tion, that, on account of their wickedness, in a week from that day, at that very hour, and in the melropolitau churchy ivil08852 i ''' ' '-' ' ''-MONKISH MYSTERIES. Wum; b? 3ispl?iyQd A'ltirracle of a most tremendous nature^ which they might then see, hear, and touch, if they dare. — He concluded with a dreadful denunciation if they persibtpd in their horrid unbelieving impieties, and quitted the pulpit with the awful words — " Remember, O 3'e people !" — The guilty stood aghast, the devotees prayed ; and ail the con- gregation anxiously wondered what would be the dreaded visitation. At length the day arrived, and the church was as full as it could contain. Being the second of November, Ail-souls day, funeral services are performed for the dead. The tapers were lighted at the close of the twilight, while the solemn organ played a slow air to the chaunt of the choristers. — • The Monks having entered, holding lighted tapers, and the Franciscans being arranged round the high altar, (under which lav the body of Stephanus Bernardus, the hrst bishop and patron of the city, who was buried 1200 years ago,) the holy Abbot proceeded, with a firm and meditating step, to his seat. To give tlie church a more solemn appearance its usual decorations were all clothed in black, except that here and there crossed bones and dead men's skulls were painted on the cloth, to add to the gloom of ihe scene. The Abbot, after a short address to the people, suddenly started up, and staring wildly round exclaimed, " The hour is come! Lo, \-e impious ones, the awful moment is at hand !" Suddenly a rumbling noise was heard from the inteYior of the altar; the black pall which covered it became agitated, swelled, heaved, and stood extended; — a terrible explosion ensued, the altar shook, and was rent in twain, when, out of the gap arose, clad in a winding sheet, the venerable body of the canonized Bishop ! Tlie apparition having regarded the affrighted multitude, glided into the choir, and th»-nce pro- ceeded to the pulpit, flames of glory encin:ling his head. — « Ilaving ascended it, he gave his blessing, and made the siga of the cross; then, in a voice of angelic melody, he informed them that the prayers of the pious Abbot had called him I'rom the dead to admonish them of the destiny that was pre- paring for them ; and to v/arn them, that, if they refused to pay implicU obedience to tb( ir Sovereign Prince, as God's Vicegerent, they would, at the end of the third day, exist only in the everlasting tornunts of hell!" The heavenly visitor now returned to his lomb, his face beaming with ra- diance; and, bestowing his last blessing on the congreg** MONKISH MYSTERIES. tion, sunt into his grave. — The efiect on the congregation was that which might be expected. — Phiints and conirition were every where heard, and the Monks unsparinglv hxshed themselves. In this state of the worship, ayonngman, of a majestic aspect, about four and twenty years of age, rose up, and in a dignitied manner undauntedly avowed, that the whole was a gross imposition and lorgery, done so bi'.n'dinglv as to disgrace even a theatrical representation, and therefore too weak to enslave rational beings. The auditoiy now became divided, and the Abbot saw that nothing but a new miracle could save the credit of the last: advancing therefore to the speaker, . he exclaimec', " Hear, O heaven, the voice of thy servant ! If there be f ilschood in this awful vision, then let this abettor of the devil escape hence without harm: — if it be true, let thy signal vengeance await him!" In an instant the stranger sunk under the ground, and flames blazed out of the pit that had iugulphed him. The Abbot then commanded profound silence, and the olYeuder's voice was heaid froui beneath the pavement, crying in a tone of horror, '' Spare ! oh ! spare my immortal soul!" The Monk having addressed the con- gregation on the awful warning, bid them beware, and then dismissed them. Albina Lannoy, Marchioness ofBarfcldt, a young lady of excellent beauty, fortune, and conduct, had several times fallen into hysterics since the above fatal catastrophe. N(j y one dared to suppose the stranger and she were acquainted, Biuce bhe had not been in church that evening, and he had but come to the city of S. — tiie day before; the landlord where he lodged spoke well of him, and added that his ser- vant, having previously discharged Ins master's account, had absconded wiih every article of value belonging to him. On the niorning of the Plonk's prediction, the magistrates and citizens came to surrender their rights, and the Prince Bishop submitted to receive their homage, because it was tiie will of heaven;— lie then withdrew to avoid the congra-. tulations of his court, and retired to repose like a saint, Afier midnight, however, a great bustle was observed in the jjalace, and the Abbot was sent for : he spent the night, it was said, in prayer with the Bishop, and in the mornimT re- tired with the marks of perturbation on his countenance. Shortly after which, by the Bishop's intercession, the Abbot i: MONKISH MYSTEPJES. was promoted to be the Gent lal of the order of the Fran- c scans. At ibis juncture the Marchioness of Ikirlcldt re- c ived a letter fioni Jacques llanieaii, contaiuiiig the ni( - m »irs of his master, who had so suddenly disappeared. Ho had remitted them from Switzerland, whither he had flown for safety; induced thereto by the base calunmies of the priests. The following is the substance of their contents, somewhat corrected frum Rameau's account. IN one of the interior counties of England had lived for several centuries the Stanley family; they had long possessed a sutlicieiicy of property to add the title of Esquire, and were universally beloved and respected. At Oxford JNIr. George Stanley became acquainted with a young nobleman, whose parents sent him over to India to repair his shattered for- tune. — Thither Mr. Stanley accompanied his patron, and returned some years after a Nabob. At h.ome he married a statesman's daughter, by whom he had Sir Thomas Stan- ley, who at coining of age found himself possessed of half a million sterling. His father had died of good Ihi/ig some years before. Nursed in the bosom of opulence, Sir Tho- mas soon became the purchaser of eveiy expensive gratifi- cation and the dupe of every sharper. — He early tasted the sweets of marriage with a Swiss 3 oung lady, by whom he had the subject of the present memoirs. His lady died in twelve years from her jnarriage, and at the time of her death Sir '1 homas's circumstances were so desperate, that he flew to Switzerland, where he had a small estateof his wife's, of the yearly value of one hundred pounds sterling, wliich reverted to his son when of age, whom he took with him. Displeased with the antique and Gothic castle he now occupied, so different to the elegant villas he liad recently quilted, he grew quite miserable. His son was also an object of self-reproach, and therelore he sent him as H boarder to ihe schoolmaster of a neighbouring village. — About a mile from the school stood a neat cottage, the gar- den of which abounded in luxuriant and scarce fruits. — It •was the ripening month of June, and the coolness of the evening had invited the owner of the cottage to walk in his garden: h(^ was suddt'uly startled by the rustling of leaves, aud beheld some juvenile plunderers endeavouring to make MONKISH ISIYSTERIES. their escape. — He seized one of them, whose shrill cries were heard by Edward Stanley, then eleven years of age.— The urchin ran to the spot, and interceded for his pardon by urging that he had brought hiui there. — The old man was E.O much charmed with the frank manner of I'^dward and his tine person, dressed in the English loose style, that, after an exhortation to come and eat when they pleased, but not to pilfer, he let them go. The owner of this'humble abode was Charles Louis Pas- cal, then in his fiftieth year. — lie had be(ni sent to the cha- teau of Vincennes for thinking the people had rights as well as kings, and was liberated on condition of expatriating himself: in his retirement he lived unmolested, except that the parson called him an atheist because he maintained that charity is more serviceable to man than faith. On return- ing to his cottage he perceived something was wanting to his happiness. — The child had told him his country, his fa- ther's name, and where he was at school. The next morn- ing Pascal repaired to the pedagogue, and asked him re- spt>cting the general character of the English boy, — The' master stated that he was a very untractable rude child ; that he deranged the order of his school by the eccentricity (;f hi? example and opinions; and that, though he acquired all thac v.'as taught him with rapidity, it was only by fits and starts he would learn. Pascal in short, having gathejed from the master thai he would do every thing by persuasion and nothing by force, took his leave, and repaired to the chateau oii Edward's father, where he waited two hours be- fore he couid be admitted to an audience of Sir Thomas. — ■ Pascal slated to the Baronet that he had conceived a friend- ship for his sens, and, finding his present master inadequate to the instruction of a boy of su( h bright intellect, he would educate him at his own cottage gi-atuiiouslp^-. Tlie dialogue ended by Sir Thomas saying that he would speak to his son that evening, and take another opportunity of talking with M. Pascal on the suVyect. M. Pascal, finding that he must make use of a more pow- erful aaent than reason with the Baronet, soon after oilered him a loan of 200 louis at the usual interest; stating as the motive, that he had heard his shortm-ss of cash prevented liim from repairing his chateau. This had the desired effect, for Sir Thomas removed his son to jNI. Pascal's immedi- E. 2 MONKISH MYSTERIES. ately after the roc-eipt of the money. The parson applied to the Baronet upon the clanger oftiusting his son with an infidel; but, as he did not back his advice with any money, it lost all its weight. — M. Pascal had in eye Rousseau'* system of education, and, thougli Edward cann.ot be said to approach to the l-nulius of that great man, his virtues did tTKiiL to the tutor he was now placed under. — The only vi- .'^itors at the cottage were Mn. Lanuoy and her niece Al- bina. 1 he former was much beloved, and her niece pro- mised to be equally graceful in her mind and person. Ee- refi of her parent:-, she dwelt in the old Gothic family man- sion, under i er aunt's protection, who doatcd on her; but at whove decease the" estate devolved to another branch of the fc.mily. Jacques Hameau wa^ her to&ter-brother, and always attended iier to the cotiage when her aunt did not want her; it was an hiteresting scene to see the old man in summer pointing out to his pupil the beauties of nature, and descanting in winter on the many blessings within our reach. An the yo'ang couple grew in years, he would sometimes unite their hands together, and bid Edward be hor protec- tor, while his nnvard was to l)e the afiec ion of Albina, if he possessed a hejirt as virtuous as her own. Ihe ibrtitude of our juvenile hero was shortly after exhi- bited in the follc/wiiig instance. — C)n one of the daik even- ings of Christmas, thesnov.had fallen so deep, ihat Rauieau and Edward couid not return trom Mrs. Lannoy's to the castle. — Several other children were de.tained there that night from the same cause, who, when the old lady had retired to rest, seated themselves round the old-fashioiud chimney, and began to tell numerous stories of ghosts and gobli uf, to their own gieat terror and th.e amusement of Edward, who accounted for some in a rational manner, and ascribed the rest to credulity. — At night, when in a pro- found sleep, Edward was abruptly awakened by a violent bhaking and a deep groan. Astonished, he sat up in his bed, and beheld the terrnied head of a sp-ectre; balls of fire sup- plied the place of eyis, and flames issued from its mouth. — Undismayed he reached a large earthen pit( hei at the bed- tide, anci dib( harged it full at the object, when down it fell Avith a horrid craoh, and he heard the sound of footsteps hurrving out of the room, I'he next morning he found iho cause of his alarm had been a pumpkin, hollowed out, uuii caudles btuck in various holes. MONKISH MYSTERIES. ■ At the a£^e of twenty EcUv;ird was to have tlie hand of i^lbina, and he had now arrived within a few months of it. One day while he was silting in the apartment of Mrs. Lan- 110 V, with Albina beside him, Pascal'Li housekeeper came rushing in, followed by Ranieau; four men on horseback had seized Pascal, and carried him away jto the castle of Vmcennes. Edward immediately dispatched Kameau to the cottage, who returned with an account that the travel- lers had turmd into the high road that leads Iruni Switzer- land toErancheComto. — A pause ensued among theaftiictcd. parties, which Albina at length broke, on observing Ed- ward look wistfully at her» " Go," said she; " trace our friend; relieve him, and then return to your Albina!" — Edward tenderly embraced her and Mrs. Lannoy, and, at- t(-'nded byRameau, set ot\ in the dark to pursue the villains, who took a bye road, and arrived at ArLnns with their i)ri- soner. Edward, on reaching the borders of France, dismounted, full of grief and disappointment. He directed Rameau to return to Albina, to assure lier of his love and resolution lo liberate Pascal before he saw her — The good servant re- quested to attend him; but Edward maintained his resolu- tion of walking to Paris, as a quicker mode of getting there than on horseback ; thus, after siiedding some tears, they separated. A few years'before this period, a man of a sin- gular cast appeared in the neighbourhood of Pascal's cot- tage. — He was by birth the illt'giliraate son of a priest by one of his female penitents, and had been sent from the foundling-hospital to a charity-school. Arrived at manhood, this man, Bei'trand, was guilty of a considerable theft; iu ct)nsequence of whi( h he lied to Switzerland, and assumed the name of Mystere. This man had a characteristic pecu.- iiarity, which attracted attention. — His stature was tall; his visage thin, pale, and ferocious: he loved storms and soli- tude, and the traveller sunk at his dai k giidmg aspect — - "i he people thought him wise because he was unsocial ; in jiis heart he was tliirsty of grandeur and power, and all his schemes weiv directed to accomplish this end.— Findiu'!' Switzerland ill adapfted to promote hisscl.u-mes, he ippaired to Pui is, and was on the point of removing from that capital,, when a circumstance opened to him a lield for Ins dark pur- poses.— An unprincipled wj iter had published a licentious and severe pamphlet against the Govcrnmeut, afli>ang tba % 10 MONKISH MYSTERIES. name of Pascal to it — A reward was offered of 50,000 litres for the discovery of the supposed author, and the reward WHS too great for Bertraud to resist. — He hated Pascal, who had long seen into his heart, and he !)OW determined, with live other desperadoes, to convey him from his ])eaceful re- treat to the Chateau of Vinceunes, which we have seen he effectually performed. Four of the confederates agreed to lake 1000 livres each for their services, which was paid ; but the tifth insis'iing on a proportional sluirii of the reward, hiah words ensued, and Mystere, to secure his tideliiy, drew a dagger, and slew him. — The police taking cognizance of the affair, llie muiderer was obliged to secrete himself, bearing in his bosom that worm which dieth not. In this state fur the present we shall leave him, and turn to the journey of our hero to Paris. ^ With a great depression of spirits he reached the cajiital of Franche Comte, and enquired of the fate of Pascal with- out success. He rose early in the morning to pursue his journey. — Having arrived within a day's nianh ot its termi- nation, he put np for a night at a village inn, and, tempted by the beauty of the evening, sauntered about the neigh- bouring grounds. A ruinated old building attracted his at- tention; the narrow stone stair-case of v. hich he mounted, and explored the chambers above. In tlie last of thtse he thought he heard a man breathe, but the night had advaiu ed too far to distinguish objects. He listened, a!id f uiid he was in a broken agitated sleej). — In a moment he heard these words, " S' e how he bleeds!— Ah! that stab!'' " ^\'ho is there?" cried Edward. " Am I betrayed then?" exclainii d a voice, which seemed to be making an escape. Edvyar^i, tliinking it dangerous to prosecute the mystery in the daik, began to retreat, and when he reachefl iho landing place, unconscious there were two winding staircases, took an op- posite one to that he had ascended bv. He now wandered in obscurity, till a twinkling light appeared in the chamber, i.nd seemed to move jound him in the crevici s of the walls. A sliding door then opened, and a per^^)n holding a lantern fntered, who began to explore the apartment: he h(:ld a il^le to remain unobserved, watched an opportunity, aufl M)ddrnly tiprang upon the strang(M-, sei/ed tlie dagger, and, teicHc Uio otlitr had recovered his surprise, he turned the WONKISn MYSTF.niES. It lantern to his fare, and bfbeld the features of Mystere !— . A imitual recogniiion ensued, but when Edward rthited ihe words >Iystere had uttered in his sleep, the traits of guilt and confusion overspread his malignant features, anerceived that the inhabitants had left it, and sat down on isome straw to speci^Iate on the causes of their removal, in which position, overcouKi wi;h fatigue, he fell fast aslee}). In the middle of the niii,ht he awoke, startled by a horrid dream, and heard foototeps slowly and heavily march into Aibma's apartment beneath. In a few minutes all was quiet, and he descended to learn the cause of what he heard. — He entered, but every function of his body and 6oul was suspended, when he saw a coftiu, covered with a pail, lying on a table, and surrounded by large sable wax tapers. — Twice he advanced in despair to see if the plate of the coffin bore the name of Aibina ; he stood irresolute; and paused till the sound of steps again ascending the stairs made him retreat behind a curtain in the room. — A young lady in deep mourning now entered the place, and eagerly approacht^ the coffin: it was Aibina, and Edward's heart boundedforjoy ! She lifted up the lid of the coflin,and then, looking wistfully at the deceased, exclaimed, "• Where shall the orphan Aibina seek for counsel and protection now her beloved aunt is no more! — Under \Yhose wing shelter her-* self from the snares of the perfidious!" " Where," exclaimed our hero, falling at her feet, " but in the arms of your faith- ful Edward 1" He wfis proceeding, but she shrunk from hia touch, and fell senseless on the ground, after uttering a piercing shriek. Her lover had raised her to a chair, wlien he felt himself touched by a kind of wand, and heard a hol- low deep voice awfully pronounce these words : " Torbear! I command thee to forbear!" Edward now^ perceived a tall ligure, clad in a loose black gown, and veiled, — While ho held Aibina iu one hand, he suddenly tore oli' the veil with 14 MONKISH MYSTERIES. .the other, and beheld the worm-eaten skull of a skeleton whose eyes rolled awfully in their sockets. Albina, %vhc was now recoveririg from her swoon, cast her eyes upon tht horrid spectre, and with a dreadful scream, again sr.nk upoi the floor. " Miscreant!'' cried Edward, as he sprang upoi the figure, " for this thou shalt atone !" A severe struggle ensued, in which he tore off the mask, and iNIystere's fell visage flashed on his sight! — The mask he had worn was even less hideous than his ferocious countenance, which Edward pinned to flie wall ; the room was soon filled with peopfe, drawn thither by the struggle, to whose charge he committed Myster.e, while he flew to assist Albina's servants in recovering her. Having removed her to another apartment, he went to enquire the cause of Mystere's appearance at Monlmare, and was surprised that he and the person to whom he had been consigned had made their esca| e. — At four o'clock Edward received a note, requesting his immediate atten- dance at the parsonage. He loitered about the apartment! of Albina, who yet continued in hysterics, till five o'clock,! and then set ofl". It was just dark when he crossed the' Doctor's garden, and thought he saw a figure like that of Mystere behind the hedge. — Without however stopping to enquire, he entered Dr. Stedfast's house. The object of the Doctor was to know if Pascal had made any conveyance of his estate to Edward, which not appearing to be the case,f he ho};ed to get it into liis own hands, as its" revenue had been converted to his own pious disposal since Past al's im- pris(mment, under the permission of some truly Christian trustees. Dr. Stedfast then kept Edward a long time in ct)n- versation, and at length sullered him to de^iv t. It was nine when he returned to llie mantj-'^n, where the same stilness and darkness he had observed the preceding night reigned through the whole house. Album too was gone, but the coffin and tapers remained. Pacing the room under the uncertainty of this mysterious scene, he saw a letter, directed to him, Ivingon the mantle-jnece. It was the hand-writing of Albina, and contained a positive rejection of liis future love, which, since the acquisition of her aunt's property and rank, and her trip to S. — , inGevmany, had be- come necessary alike to her interest and reputation, bheof- fered huji her fortune and favour, confessed ihat he still pos- gess{d her esteem, but avowed that her person never should MONKISH MYSTERIES. 15 be his! — It was signed wiih her name. — Edward could jicarcely believe tlie evidence of his senses; it was impossible that Albina could have forgotten the generous maxims she bnce held ; and yet the cold look she received him with, and h( T absence at this moment from the house, too fullj [confirmed that she had renounced him. He now- turned to the corpse, and lifting off the lid ex- laimed, " Happy woman!" While he regarded her, some iquid blood fell in drops on her pale face. — Others suc- ceeding, he lifted the taper to the ceiling, 4odiscover whence t flowed. Some of the sanguinaiy fluid now falling on the flame, it sparkled, hissed, and became extinguished. With I sudden resolution Edward now seized another, and nounted to the room he had occupied the night before. Having forced the door, he searched about, but saw no ause for this horrid phenomenon, till, fixing his eye on the straw, he fancied he saw it heave and sink. — A faint ound soon after issued from it, and convinced Edward a iving object lay beneath the bundles. On removing them, he beheld the body of a man weltering in his blood, which Dozed from several stabs and cuts. — He then gently raised he corpse, and carried it to the apartment below; when he lad in some measure cleansed the man's face, he discovered t to be Albina Lannoy's foster-brother, the faithful Rameau. Edward watched by him all night, and in the morning he arocured both a nurse and a surgeon for the v/orthy man, ;\nd ordered that no expense should be spared for his re- ovcry. In less than four months Rameau was able to walk, and, n one of his conversations with Edward, gave the followiog iccount of himself since their separation: — " Soon affet Mrs. Lannoy succeeded to her sister's title and estates, it vas perceived she would not long survive her; aAd she be- jueathed all the property to her beloved niece. The day jefor T Albina's departure for Switzerland, to effect the burial )f her aunt in the family -vault; Rameau received a note "rom her, dispensing wiih his services, as she meant to )reak off all coimection with Edward Stanley, and to dis- rharge every servant that might remind her of him. On that ame day he was seized by a party of hussars, and laid in )rison without any accusation. Getting away however in hree days, he proceeded to Switzerland, to receive his dis- hartje fiom her own moulh ; and on arriving there observed -/c 16 MONKISH MYSTERIES. the servant? &i ihe act of muking preparations for a new jituiney. — On entering tLe liousf, he \vks seized and con- veyed to the chamber whert Edward found him. llatn(>au in ftlrijggling to get tree dre^ his cutlass, and wouwled some of hisopponenth, but at length, overpowered by nunibtrs, lie fell exhausted witli loss of blood and wounds, and the vil- lains cowred him with straw, leaving him to his fate. It will be necessary now U) take a view <»f stjiuir events long before tht- present, to obviate the oblotjuv which may attach to the character of Albiim. Fredericus, Able ofC. — before he became the Prii»cf-bishop of S. — , usuallv spent a part of the year in Switzerland. As an old aion of some letters in Mrs. Lannuv's lum?e, as btl'.jc r'ijud, he received suthtient instruction fmri them to lu- duce him to repair to S. — where Krtdericus had renewed hib suit to Albina, but was rejected. Here Herirand bv liu •lustenties made himself noticed by the Abbot of the Kraiv I. iscms, wiio a/lmilted him as a novu-e within the jtiti iucti h to the lovely stranger was the general theme of converi 1 :«>:), and Mystere saw that the Prince's weaknesk must tljtr ioad to ills own ad\ancenient. j iiled with this idea, he one day waited on rrederic need himself, and preseiited him with the letters, _ his highuc^ss that means might be efl'ectually taken . .e this Edward Stanley, as he was the bar lo hi* ..ilile reception with Albinu. 'J'he plan he proijo: ■ . . to forge a plausible account of his (hath, while he ais, and, if he attempted to enter the Prince's d s, to have his person ^o well deseribeil lo the e\amt < TS, as to procure his innnediute arrest ; thus u on ic bo preventeu from uniting v.'iih one of llie holy ituui lailh. 'Ih'i Bishop appi tui;sc dt IjfUM T\ -nady to tear hira to pieces for p/oj/iiig booty, and asked him i|' he really meant to take them in in such a manner? — Edward gave them a severe reproof for iheir brutality, and, finding lh« \ clamour increase, escaped into a coffee-house till the mob had disjjersed. Hav-Kig sf.ent a fortnight in I.ondon, Edward, naturally fond jf n lal life, with pleasure bent hib way to his native shire of Hereford, all I lie way endeavouring to augment his stock of agricultural and commercial kiu<\vledge. fie made himself known to his relations, ai.d from hib demeanour was every where received with resptctful kindness. No tidii.gs of sir Thomas having reached the family for a long time, he received the appellation of Sir Edward Stanley. 'J he new Baronet however soon sunk in the es^ti em of his r^ lam is, who with surprise saw him handling the plane and ihe chis- sel; employing f^ne part of the v>'tek in earning huown live- lihood, and devoting the other to acts of kindness and coun- ,^l, — He was an arbitrator in disj uii s, a physician in sick- aeiB, and an adviser in distress. — A conduct so replete \^iiV MONKISH MYSTERIES. l^^ philiuidiropy gave him tree access U) the love of all the g!)od, aiui that of the opulent he cured liLlle about. At Bodenhain, between ileretoid and Lem-^ter, lived an old gouty \nicle of Edward's, who invited our hero to stay a» tV;\v days with him, plcasetl with the iVankness of his man- ner and his entertaiuing knowledge. Hitherto our hero had S(.i»ght for no othei attachment than that of Aibina; but, after a twelvemonths residence in Herefordshire, he began to feel a gjowiiig fondness for the portionless daughter of a poor curaie, when the sudden arrival (.f Jacques llameau at Bodenliam r..caiied hi& wandering atfections to tlieir original, object. Edward flew into his arms the moment he saw his faithful friend, and the old squire made him so heartily wel- come, that before night Rameau, what with joy -and cider,, was compleltUy nitoxicated. h The next day Rameau gave the following account to Ed- ward since their separation. '' Alter your departure for England, I remained some time at :MunLm;ire; but when I had duly weighed the Marchioness of Harfeldt's stiange con- duct to you and myself, the attempt to assassinate me, and -Mystere's disappearance from the castle at the time the Man;hioness sei-retly departed, I saw a mysterj run througli' the wtiole, and therefore determined to visit the city of S — .. Driguised as a labouring man, I got achiiiltance into the Marchiimesb's garden, bhe was mostly attended by a female, t-,. a waiting-woman of the Jirst Marchioness's. '1 hough her \ I plaintive looks otten rent my luart, it was a month before I could make myself known to her. — When her expressions of joy at seeing me had subtided, she asked me why I had lett her; I pleaded her written discharge, which she assured, me was false. At this moment her servant approaching, I adjourned our discourse till the next morning, knowing the danger of being obierved. On the same evening chance led nie into the cliurch ot' ihe Eranciscans, where ihe holy Ab-- hot was delivering an animated oration in praise of the de- ceased's virtue and^ piety. — I recogni^cd after a time the features of the pr(!acher to be those ot Mystere. Lost in thought at thio strange discovery, I regarded not th<.- tini.sh.- of the; service. — When I arose, I found the doors locked, and there was no other prospect than passing the night in the church. — After having taken a short nap, I awoke, and, casting my eyes about, perce.i>ed a form, clad in white, glide E 2 MONKISH MYSTERIES. behind thf high altai\ — The villaiu ■Nly&tere then came in from one of ihe cloister doors with a flambeau, and can- tiousl}^ examined the church to see if any one remained in it. — Having satisfied himself, he then stepped to the pulpit, and returned to the altar, on \'hich he deposits d his torch, and walked several times rour.d it. — Suddenly he pro- iiomiced the word " Nok .'" — when a noise issued from the interior of the altar, the front opened, and out stalked the same white form I had seen before. — The celestial inhabi- tant then ascended the pulpit, and delivered in a soft voice a discom-se on repentance and eternal punishment, after \vhich he returned to the altar, and was re-entombed. — During this farce, Mystere took the liberty of assisting the spirit in its address, and made many corrections and addi- tions, all of which were taken in good part. Mystere had just finished the performance when a man entered the church, and delivered him a note. — On perusing it he exelaimed, " Jacques Rameau in this city — disguised, and to hold a conference with the Marchioness to-morrow morning! — Here," said he to the man, " tell the good Aiiaiting-w^oman bis Highness and I are obliged to her, and that what she speaks ofwernwill take place." Knowing that the interview with my lady was now utterly impossible, I came over to England to inform you of this strange affair." Edward having advised with Rameau whether he should go to the relief of Albina, who had neglected to answer his letters from Paris, and had afterwards discarded him, it was agreed to return to the continent after a week's longer stay at Bodenham. The two friends took leave of the coun- try squire with much regret, and reached the city of S. — a day or two before the first of November, the eve of the day when the great miracle of the resurrection took place. — Edward twice that day endc avoured to gain access to Al- bina, but was toM she was indisposed. The 'IMonk's agents immediately announced to him the arrival ot Edward, and e\ery means was used to prevent the lovers having an inter- view. It has already been mentioned that Edward addressed the people on the imposition which had been (Hsplayed before lliem as a miracle. — His subsequent fall, which the Monk saw was necessary to substantiate the previous trick, was riiahaged in this manner: The lar^e marble stone which lay in the centre of the choir,hehad hud taken uji, and laidupon MONKISH MYSTERIES. «1 an iron grate, wliicb, by means of aspring, -would fly off, and Irt the stone descend instantaneously. An agent of the Monk then watched the entiy of Ivlward into the choir, and insensibly drew liim to the precise spot, which, when hia eiiemv saw, he exhibited him to the world as a second in- stance of God's judgment. To effect these great manoeuvres Father Bernard had fixed upon a young devotee, who had been lately admitted into the convent for his exemplary de- votion and implicit submission to the holy fathers. The artful tongue of Bernard, whom the young saint believed to be inspired, soon wrought upon his weak understanding to further his schemes, which he entered into as the highest acts of piety and good will to men. — It was he who ascended the pulpit as die ghost, who let Edward through the trap- stone, and afterAvards called out of the fiery gulph for- niercy on his soul ! Edward had- another strong motive in placing himself so conspicuously in the choir,— He had that morning been in- fcfrmed by hi> landlord, that a man- was dying in his house, who had been confessing that he was concerned in forcing Louis Pascal from his cottage toV'incennes. — Edward flew to the departing culprit just in time to hear him say that the principal in the undertaking was .Mystere! It was Edward's iiUeutioa to have unmasked the hypocrite in full church, but, as we have seen, the Monk was vet an overmatch for him. When the monks had all withdrawn to their cells, Mystere at midnight entered the church, debating on the fate of Edward. — He canvassed the various ways of dispo- sing of him, and at last ejaculated in a hcjiJow tone, " By this dagger shall he die!" With hurried steps he was re- treating to effect his purpose, when a voice pronounced the name of INIystei'.'; ! — He started, and lisfe-ned. — I'he voice then a.iain spoke:" Mystere,- robber of the Jleaumur family, — perpetrator of the imprisonment of Pascal and the murder of thy comrade, — pander to a bishop, and betrayer of the people's liberties, — de^^troyer of the peace of the best of men, perhaps even now of his life,— thine hour is come !— Die, thou villain!" — A pistol was fired, which, hittiu^' the handle of the Monk's poignard, . drove it from his grasp. A second di-charge followed, which struck the Abb(.t on the breast, and he fell on the pavement. The fury of the ball was spent against his. missal, and when the attendants 1-3 rushed' 22 MONKISH MYSTERIES. rushed in on the report of the pistol, the Abbot piously fell on his knees in gratitude to heaven for his escape. An un- successful seandi was soon after made for the offender, and the Abbot retired to prepare for his interview with Edward. When Edward fell through the chair, he received no other injury than being stunned by the fall: on his recovery, he found himself chained to a column in total darkness. — 'The struggles he made to get free at length overcame him, and lie sunk exhausted on the floor. Six and thirty hours had he endured the gnawing pains of hxinger, whfu the- Abbot, in a monastic garb, entered his cell; and, having lighted a lamp that hung from the roof, he regarded Edward with a ferocious stare. — The Abbot would not have delayed his visit So long, but that he was sent for by the Prince, Xvho detained him several hours ; and it was now midnight when he entered the horrid abode of his vic- tim. — The keen reproaches and fearless conduct of Edward soon raised Mystere's fury to its zenith ; and, drawing a dag- ger, he plunged it in his boeom! — The wound bled, but was not deej3 : a secret motive had weakened the blow. " I re- serve thee," exclaimed the furious Monk, " lor a slower death. — Here is thy pittance for this day; it shall be les- setied day by day till you gnaw your own flesh for suste- nance." He then deposited a small loaf and a phial of water, and retired, after bolting the door. Edward, refreshed by his scanty meal, felt hope revive tvithin him.-^The statue to which he was chained being in a bending posture, it was obvious there nmst be a bar of iron in its body to support it. — Perceiving the statue was firmly fastened to the pedestal, wiih the tongue of his buckle he loosened the cement: having picked off as much as he was able, he essayecl to remove it from the pedestal, till his fa- tigue threw him into a .sound sleep, I'rom which he awakened greatly refreshed, but very hungry. He now thought it pru- dent to lie by till his jailor paid him a visit, and renewetj his allowance. The Monk made his appearance in about an hour after, deposit( d his loaf and water, and then re- tired, threatening on the following night to chain him down to the floor. Edward, having eaten his food, set about his liberation with a desperate resolution, well knowing the fatal conse- quence if he failed. — By dint of incesba)itly shaking the Statue he loosened it from llie pedestal, und perceived the MONKISH MYSTERIES. 23 iron rod fastened to the base which ran up it. This he bent till it snapped oft, and then applied it to force open the links of his chain, which soon fell at his feet, — Sufiicier.t time having elapsed to expect another visit, he replaced everv thing in the order in which il had stood, and, with the iron bar behind him, awaited the Monk's coming. lie soon heard the rattling of the chains destined for him, and saw- two ruffians open the door, who advanced to manacle him. INIystere was not with them, being at that time with the Prince on the important business of the surrender of the ci- tizens' liberties. — Edward gras|.njg liis u'on bar levelled one of the unsuspecting villamsin an instant; the other drew his pistol, but a back stroke with the same weapon made it fly from his hand. — Before the assassin had recovered the blow, Edward snatched the other pistol from his girdle, and the fellow fell on his knees, and begged his life, which was consented to on condition of chainuig his dead companion to the pillar, and conducting Edward safely to the street. — This the man performed, and Edward once more found^ hmiself at liberty. — The vigour of our hero's mind was by ni) means abated from his recent imprisonment; — he burned with an ardent spirit to unmask on the first opportunity the villainy of the Prince, and his prime-counsellor the Abbot.. Full of this idea he made his way to the palace; and unob- served reached the Bishop's bed side, on whom, and the J Abbot, he vented his keenest threats ; and retreated before the former had recovered his astonishuicnt at the wonderful appearance of Edward. Previously to quitting S. — hp enquired of the landlady where he had lodged the fate of Panieau; but all he could; learn was that the Marchioness was gone to her country seat, whither lidward immediately determined to follow. — Vv'hen Stanley twice endeavoured to gain admission to Albina a. S. — , the last lime slie caught a full glimpse of, him, and did not doubt it was her lover; but the recollec- tion of tl;e horrid scene at Montmare-Castle still made her fearful if it was reality. '1 he hideous figure the th* n saw yet ii\ed in trr imagination. — Why had Rameau left her service; and v hy not kept the appoinmient he made in the garden? Why were her letteis all. unarii.vereri ? She little thought that these were all earned to »}:e Eishop, and .hat the servanis whom the dirti tea 'o tnc^uire after Ldwaid were ijustrutted to say he was dead, 54 MONKISH MYSTERIES. Albina had taken into In r service a young girl, remark- aisle lor hrr simplicity, who had bten present ai the a\\ t\il ceremony ot'lhe miracle in the church. — From her descrip- tion of the young man who sunk into the pit, Albinn was convinced it was hej' lover, and mourned him as a victim in the noble attempt of unmviskijig the frauds of hypocrisy. — Soriowfui and ufflicted, she clad herself in mourning, and retired to her country seat. When Edward arrived there, it was four o'clock in the morning; and merriment and illu- mination seenuci to run through the house. — lie knocked at the door, and was adi«itted by a drunken porter to an op- posite gallery; in a few moments a damsel, gaily drest, pas- sed by, and as the earnestly looked at him, exclaimed, " 1 he ghc^t! O my lady, the ghost!" — Albina immediate ly ran from her apartment, and stood transfixed at the sight of Stanley. ** Madam," said Edv^ard, " I am sorry my pre- sence should disturb your festivity. — While 1 am jmirneying to Swilzerlaiid, ruay you find in opulence and splendor an equivalent for the love of him you have rejected, and who now bids you farewell." " Wrong me not thus!" exchiimcd Albina: " Easily can I clear myself fi-oin every imputation,^ anci sting your bosom v\ith remorse for its unkindness." — At this juncture some musicians advancing iip-stairs, Al- bina's vvonuin called to them to arrest the man that was talkiig to her hidy. — Edward, seeing force was necessary, £Oon laid two or tliree of the inebriated tiddlers sprawling, and made his escape while Albina lay in a fainting fit. ^^ It is but justice here to state, that the festivity at the Marchioness s was on account of the marriage of lier wait- ing-n.aid,^ whose nuptial feast was celebrat(;d that niii,ht. — AVhen IMiiu e Frederic us had somewhat recovered the ap- pearance of the l-.nglish litretic at his bsd-side, he rang his bell, and ordered Father Bertrand to be sent for, v ho re- ceived llie message with nuich reluctance, as hewithtd to have carrif'd to him an iccount of the death of Edv ard, which he had now consigned to two assassins. His disbelief of the enlargement of Etiward absolutely e niagtd ihe Prince, and the Abbot, putting on the courtier, set out to search into the truih of tJie affair. —When he anlved at the dun- geon, the m} stery of his escape was soon untohled, bv the nvan that Edv\ard bad forced to conduct him out. — He had returned to his dead com| anion, and the; Monk now stabbeei kim 10 the iieurt lor his cowardice aud ill success; he thcu MONKISH MYSTERIES. 25 dragged the bodies to the grave he had dug for Edward, and, closing the stone upon them, lost not a moment in dis- patching emissaries every where to discover Edward, de- scribing his person in printed papers, and calhng him a Ja- cobin and a traitor. The coriduct of Albina was unhesitatingly directed by her aficction, which called upon her to i'ollow Stanley to Swit- zerland. At the moment when everything was ready to set oft", she was arrested upon the charge of holding a corres- pondence with a French emissary, and quietly resigned her- self to her fate; to which we ^hall for the present leave her, and turn to Edward. On the fourth day of hib march to- wards Montmare, he was accosted by a miserable being, whose diseased and wretched appearance was shocking to the eye of humanity. — As he dropped a few halfpence into the beggar's hat, he saw he was endeavouring to conceal what bethought was his handkerchief — he itlt in his pocket, and it was gone. — '1 he object now fell on his knees, im- plored mercy, and declared he was an Englishman, and his name Stanley. It was Edward's father! — -The beggar rose with evident joy when the relationship was explained, and followed his son to an inn, where he procured him food, for he was almost famished. The Baronet now ate and drank till he could not stand, and was taken to some clean straw in an out-house. A burning fever attacked him in the morning, which lasted four w^eeks; during this time Edward 'by his hand-labour supported hifn, and bought hiui clothes. The misconduct of Edward's father soon brought on his an- nihilation. He disposed of the clothes his son had pur- chased for liquor, and, on the evening of the day previous to Edward's departure for Switzerland, he stole to the land- lady's spirituous closet,, and drank brandy sufficient to bring on his death, which took place the following day. — Ihus perished Sir Thomas Stanley, who had moved in everv cha- racter disgraceful to human nature, and at last died mi- serably ! Without meeting any particular adventure, our traveller now entered an inn on the border of Switzeiland, and there saw lying iu the window Rameau's pamphlet of his (Ed- ward's) cruel treatment. — E'-'ward at length once more reached his beloved home, and learned that Rameau was daily expected from Lucerne, in whose society he hopedtto niake his stay agreeable j in the mean time he made piU 25 MONKISH MYSTERIES. grimages to his father's luu^e, to Pascal's cottagp, ar.'l Montniare C'ahtle. No letters had yet arrived Ironi the Marthione&s. — At the time our hero v.as in Geniiauv, tlie destruction of the Bas-lilie had been rflected, and he anxiously hoped that the benefits of the revoluUon had ex- tended to Pascal. — Me now therefore wrote to Ins uncle in Ileretbrdshire for rt milt.inces, and received an answer from the trustees of the old gentleman, inlurniing him he was dead, and had left his nephew the Bodenlmni estate. — Ed- ward injmediatelv wrote back debiring the executors to raise a. hundred pounds, and remit it to him, with which he in- tended to proceed to Pans to renew^ his search. ^^ hile impatiently wai'mg these an-ivals, Edward took a ttrole one moonlight evening to Pascal's cottage. Having reached the avenue that led to the "sacred spot, he descried an old man leaning on his staff, and wiping' his eves as h.p stood gazing at the ruinated cottage; the sounds of Edward and Albina were sufticient to make I'dward clasp him in his arm^! — He supported the worthy enfeebled Pascal ! — When their first effusions of joy were abated, Edv.ard took hiin to Kameau's mother, where he himselt longed. — Pascal had been liberated in consequence ol ih'' llevohition, and had travelled without re-ting till the n)Oiuent when Edward saw him. Deeply did Pas».al regret the fallen sta-te of Albina, and share in the honest joy of Pameau, who had returned from Lucerne, and, it is now proper to inform the reader, was the peison that fired the pistols at Mystere in the' church, to which he returned, after having set n Edward fall into his hellish pit.- -':^ince that time llameau liad em- ployed his leisure time in v.riling Stanley's history. — Pascal having reclaimed his cottage of Dr. Sledfast, st/lu it, and at length arranged a plan for retiring to England with Ed- ward, while Kam!"au remained beliind to discover the real situation of the Mar*, hior.ess, and was afterwards to return to iiodenham. — We shall now take a view of the sit4iation of I'uther I'ertrand, since the Prince liisho}! had procured for hi;u the GeneraLhip of the older of the l'ranciscan.=, ill %\lnd to visit Home, to try the elioul of Iiis adcjreas on the ruiiid of his MONKISH IMYSTRRIES. if 'Holiness, His rneniies in the mean time were pieparing to send him there for another purpose. 1 lie prune niinistor Wiehmd was the implaca'-le eiiemj pf the AbljDt, and soon demonstrated to his master thu danger of suffering th'' ambition of this man to lord it over hnu. A copy too of Raineau's narrative had reached hiu!. 1'he prime minister knew that the author's statement of .he pioiib fraud in he church was quite con-ect, from hl'i own concern in that transai tion. — iiC also come to the know- 1 dge of the lUonk's theft on the Uauniur lamily ; he then - fore sent tor the elder ilaumur, examined hun, and a ivised S'jcret y. 'Ihese and other facts were told to the Bishoi , and i^uch measures were taken to lay llie business before the see of Konie, that the Francircan rci eivcd the blow wilh- out a suspicion of it. In the depth of winter. Father Btr- trand left the city of S. — ,preiending business of importance, and set off for Rome ; he had in idea raised hiniself to a Cardinal's hat, when a party of cavaliers ar)ested him iu the name of the holy Roman Inquisition. His hands were then bound behind him, ihe cabriolet was dismisired, and he was conveyed to an apartment at a sm-iU inn. — To keep up the farce of sanctity, he now knelt down, and ih- voked heaven to pardon the malice of his enemies; but iu his l)Osom lurked the awful prospect of what he was to suffer under the Imjuisitiou. — AvNhile he was occupied with the means of t scape; and had given over every prospect of en-- iargement, when it arose from a circumstance liitle ex- pected. I'he good woman of the house had been a constant attendant at the sermons of Father Hernard; and she hastened with the news of his arrest to another of iiis ad- mirers, who summoned a number of female gossips to talk on the occasion. Now it happened that above a twelvemonth ago a male- factor ha'l been hung for a murder, of which all the inha- bitant's sujTp(jsed hiin innocent. Since the event, anxong other tremendous prodigies, his ghost had stalked about a neighbouring chapel, nor could holy water wash it away. The whole Icmale a.-jbembly were decidedly of opinion that the commanding othcer should be requested to suffer his holy prisoner to pass one night in the aforesaid ihapel, us an effectual way to lay the perturbed spirit, 'i his peution however was peremptorily refused, and the deputation re- lumed unsuccessful. The gossips soon tprtad a repgrt ihut 2S MONKISH MYSTFRIES. Father Bertrand was impiously detained, and the rumour brought numbers to the house, who unanimously determined to rescue him. — On their applicatioji to the commanding ofificei, he found them too formidable to contend with, and therefore prudently entered into a parley, in which it was agreed that they should surrender up five of their body as hostages for the safe return of the Abbot. — This being con- sented to, he was conducted to the house of the gossip, and at twelve o'clock at night set out for the scene of action, followed by a crowd of fanatics. Having pioceeded within twenty yards of the awful spot, he bade the people advance no farther, but pray for him while he entered the chapel, and encountered the spirit. — Not long after they heard a strange noise, a light flashed through the windows, and disappeared ; then a voice in a majestic manner cried out, " Spirit of hell, avaunt!" The i holy father now informed the people that the business was done, and shewed them the corpse of the convict, with the rope round its neck. The fact was, that the Monk had pro- vided himself with the powder-flask and other articles of the gossip's husband, who was a great poacher. In the chapel he took down the shrine of the saint, tied a rope round its neck, and covering it from the shoulders with a long cloke, he thus imposed on the gaping credulity of the fanatic mob, who, so far now from delivering up the holy Monk, accounted it an honour that five of their body should be in custody for his sake. Mystere, having give)^ them all his blessing and absolution ibrwhat they 'were do- ing, was conveyed to the opposite shore; and there wiih a lantern in his hand entered a deep forest which had leen pointed out to him. From the snow that lay on the ground, and the feeble light of his lantern, he soon lost his track, and re-measured his way back to the river side. On the opposite bank he perceived lights moving, and horsemen running to and fro ; several boats too were rowing towards the spot where he stood: this bustle was no mystery to him; and therefore, throwing his lantern into the stream, he em- bosomed himself again in the forest, walked till spent with fatigue, and at length concealed himself in the cavity of a hollow bank. Nature presented him her horrors in this situation: a deep snow fell; a storm of wind suc- ceeded, and keen frost. — He was bewildered, and uncertain what route to take, how to avoid pursuit, and once roor« 1M0NKISII MYSTERIES. S> revisit the haunts of men. — Here hungry and pinched with cold, a retrospect of all his infamous atrocities successively presented themselves to his mind, and last of all that of surrendPiring up the lovely and indigent Albina to the lust of a mitred debauchee, whose pander he had condescended to become only in the end to be abandoned and betrayed. All these considerations stung his conscience to the quick, and he flung himself upon the ground. In the phienzy of his despair, he drew his knife, and raised his arm to strike — but instinct arrested the blow, and the weapon fell to the ground. — Ashamed of his cowardice, be took it up again, and put the point to his breast. While he hesitated the tree that overspread the bank where he stood was shivered in twain bj- a flash of lightning; — a gust of wind tore it up by the roots, made bare the head of the wretched monk, ex- posed it to the pelting storm, and sported with his haggard form. Struck down with awe at the solemnity of the awful moment, he stood lost in profound contemplation till the feelings of human nature prevailed, and he endeavoured to seek a shelter from the elements, from hunger, detection, and fatigue. — As he rose for tliat purpose, among the mould torn up by the fall of the beech tree, he felt a brick; near the spot lay several others, which led him over an arch of a subterraneous apartment. — Having let himself down, he de- scended some stone steps, till a wooden gate arrested him, which he easily pushed away. The vault he was in liy its f sound appeared of a large extent, and the inequalities of the ground made him frequently stumble over stones of va- rious shapes and sizes. He had just began to satisfy the cravings of nature, when a poor man, advanced in years, entered with a lantern, a spade, anrt other tools. — Having come to an elegant mujui- ment, he stopped, and heaved a sigh. The Moijk hid him- self, determined to watch the object of this feeble wretch at such an inclement season. " Ahis!" cried the man, " it must be done !" He then burst open one of the monuments, looked in with anxiety, and exclaimed, " Here is noihing that can relieve my wdnis!" He was proceeding to ano- ther when .Mystere approached him, and demanded who he ■was and what he \\auu d. 1 he poor fellow threw himself at his feet, begg.d for pardon, caiied heiivf n lo\>iir.cSS ihat distress had made huu seek lo rob the dead, and then uu- so MONKISH MYSTERIES. nounced that his name was Albert Reaiunur !" " Reaumur !" cried the Monk in a voice of horror. — " Yes," replied the supplicant; " I have a wife and six children. — I was once industrious, and had some property in trade. — I took a friend into my house to relieve my distress; he w;is my counsellor, I trusted him with all my money, and he ab- sconded, — left me to ruin and povert}' ! Yesterday, working on the forest, I found out these vaults, and necessity " "Say no more!'' said INIystei-e; "Rise, and take this note to Brother Jerome at the Franciscan convent. — Give it him privately, and tell him, that under the Virgin's altar lies concealed a small iron chest, of which this is the key. In it are six thousand ducats; bid him give you one half, — it is your propertv, — and keep the rest in remembrance of me." The Monk now wrote a note, with a pencil, and gave it to. Reaumur, who begged to know the name of the benevolent person who had so unexpectedly befriended him. " Look on me I" cried Bertrand. " Behold in me thy friend and robber, — Mystere!' Begone, — away! — tliy looks are daggers to my soul!" The Monk now drove the happy Reauuuir from his sight, and felt a weight of self- applause in the restitution he hafj made, to which he had been a stranger for a long time. Having secured the entrance to the vault, he wrapped .himself up in his great coat, and lay down to rest. He had slept soundly for some time;, when the noise of bursting open the door awoke him; in which state we shall leave him, and turn to Albina. Towards noon, on the day whew Albina was arrested on a frivolous charge, the carriage in which she was conveyed reached a dismal and ancient building in the bosom of a deep forest. Here she was conducted through a lofty gate to the square court-yard of this Gothic pile, and thence to her apartment. The Prince did not sutler Albina to remain many days before he endeavoured to gratify his lust by force, but his feeble strength was inadequate to the purpose ; and he left her vowing in three days to carry his vengeance and passion into effect. Uatched incessantly by lier late waiting-woman, aided by her husband and his mo- ther, Albina saw no probability of escape. On the third clay a horseman galloped into the Castle, who threw all the inhabitants into the deepest consternation; he took every male away with him, and left none but Albina's female at- ttndouts to watch her, who gathered from them that ths MONKISH MYSTERIES. 51 mob at S. — were proceeding will) the chateaus as they had done at Paris, On the following night, at a very late hour, a violent knocking was heard at the gate, and the terrified compa- nions of our heroine insisteang to those he nnist already have felt which the knowledge of her innocence must convey; and this secret, in case of her death, she made Rameau faithfully promise to observe. Her disorder at length took a favourable turn, and several months clapbcd before she was permitted to sail for England. I-Ldward Stanley safely conveyed his old frit nd -.Pascal to Bodenbam, wheie the estate of his late uncle was in excel- leiit repair. — It was let out to tenants, and netted ^'150 a year. I'he house was delightfully 'situated on the banks of the river Lug, and had an excellent orchard and garden behind it, of which Pascal took the superinteudeuce; and -with his books aud the society of his son, passed the serene evening of life. Edward however. was not happy; he lived in the e.xpec- tation of letters of importance from Ram.eau, but weeks passed over without any arrival. This faithful friend, a few days after his arrival at the city of S. — had written to in- form him of the arrest of the Marchioness of Barfeldt, and the sequestration of her property. Edward, after a lapse of time, wrote to Kaineau's friends in Switzerland, who knew. G 3 34 MONKISH MVSTERIES. nothing of him since he was at S — . At length he received a letler tVoin hinj at Rotterdam, but not a word of the Mar.- cliioness. 'J'o this succeeded atiother long silence, and tlie ignorance he found himself involved in upon subjects so in- teresting to his heart, at length made him pensive and un- settled. He frequently took long solitary rambles, in one of which he came to an uninhabited building, called Barhope, lying seven miles from Hereford, at the foot of Dinmore- hill. It had been the property of the Carter family, the youngest son of which had been hung in chains about forty years, tor the murder of his brother; since v. hen the house had been deemed haunted, and a report was strongly cir- culated that a tall object, clad in loose black robes, fre- quented that and the neighbouring woods. While Edward st(.od looking on the gloomy mansion, he saw in the twilight the above figure advance. — It proceeded with slow heavy steps; Edward followed, and addressed it : " Humanity prompts me to ask who you are. — I would re- lieve you." i he figure took no notice, but stopped a mo- ment, and then walked to the opposite angle, where it dis- appeared. Scarcely had Edward reached home, and told the adventure to Pascal, before the maid rushed in, ex- claiming that she had seen the black apparition pass the door. Edward comforted the poor girl, and retired to rest "with the determination of exploring the nuuision the next day; but, Pascal being taken lU, Edward was compelled to delay his visit for a fortnight. In the n}ean time a ludici-ous adventure took place', which extended the fame of the ghost, and made our hero the more anxious to develope the mystery. Three Herefordshire bucks, an attorney, a son of Mars, and a sportmg squire, one evening called at Wellington Inn, a short distance from Larhopc-luuise : they supped heartily, and drank plentifully; at the close of the last bowl, to induce them to order ano- ther, the laiidlord began the story of the ghost which haunted Baihope-house. The result was an innnediate de- tern;ination on the part of the guests to lay the ghost; for which purpose they called tlu ii dogs, and set oH arni( d. — Encountering an old uomuu in the way, they enquirfd of her what she had h( ard of the spirit they were about to subdue. — Siie added so many stories of terror to the history which the landlord had delivered, and ga\e such undeniable reierenccs to those who hud felt its dispk-asurc, that our MONKISH ^lYSTERIES. triumvirate began to halt. — Having told them that in the court-yard grew some brambles, through which they would find a door leading to the staircase, she departed, devoutly recommending them to the protection ol" heaven. They now It^hted a dull horn lantern, borrowed at the inu, and traced the en ranee in the bramble bush. — Here a dispute ensued about who should imt have the post of ho- nour; and the dogs were at last ordered iojnoiinf tlie breach. This they did for a few paces, but suddenly stood still, sndfed, and growled in a)fri5 38 FATAL PERSEVERANCE; CHARLES and SOPHIA. v^IIARLES S. acandidatt; for the holy ministry, held the post of instructor to a house of female correction, and lived an easy cheerful life in the free city of T. in Germany ; the tribunal of which exercised justice more strictly than others ; better enlightened. He enjoyed a comfortable sufficiency, and made it a pleasure as well as his occupation to console and assist the afflicted; in the exercise of which good qua- lities his situation furnished him with many occasions. 'Ihe only deficiency he felt in his wishes was the choice of a wife. He had <-ast his eyes on several ladies, but saw none per- • fectly adapted to ins disposition: he sought for one who had been unfortunate, and whose sole happiness would consist • in an equal mixture of gratitude and love, —A young lady had been conducted to the town prison on a charge of hav- ing murdered her infant, and, as it was generally^ U;lieved^' that she would suffer for the crmie, Mr. S. received instruc- tions to wait upon and prepare her for the awful change. — The singular wish of our candidate, ,in the execution of this tonuuission, was complelelv gratvlied. — -He became ena- moured of the unfortunate Sophia; he made her an oRVr of his best services, and was at once her confident and friend. The following are the particulars Sophia related to him of hor melancholy fall. — " " I was the daughter of a lady of great respectability,, wli.ose i11*id lessons of morality and virtue were early instil- led int I n)y mind. She loved me tenderly, and 1 endea- voured to repay her allection. — A young gentleman, a to- reiguer, had been introduced at our liouse, and became a freuyent visitor. — Conceiving that thw advanc* she made to niH were not of llin most iionourubie kind, 1 requested liinx to alter his conduct, and not compel me to lay him under i^m- CHARLES AND SOPHIA. 3^ tlie scourge of parental indignation. — He listened, promised fair, and swore it was my mind rather than my person he esteemed. — He regained my confidence, and I trusted my- self one night with him to a masked ball — an amusement of which 1 was extremely fond, though disliked by my parents. Having danced till I was thirsty, he brought me refreshments and wine, in which lie had infused some drugs of a stupify- ing and enfuriating quality. — Alas! I fell a victim to the superior address of the villain, and the following morning felt all the horrors of my situation. — I looked anxiously day by day for the customary visits of my seducer, but he had flown away for ever! — When I became pregnant, on a pre- tence of illness, I adjourned to the country seat of an old aunt, the more readily to avoid detection and disgrace. The old lad}' received me kindly, and endeavoured to lesson the anguish of my heart.' —At length the day of my delivery ^ came, and happened at a time when the servant was out. — • JMy aunt set off for the midwife, but before she returned, the pains of labour had seized me, and I became the mother of a girl! — In a lapse of reason I destroyed the little vic- tim, nor concealed tlie fatal deed from the woman who came to attend me. — When m}' intellects had returned, what agonizing pains filled my bosom! but sorrow came too late; the midwife told my crime to the tribunal, whose awful decision I now await." During the recital JMi. S. shed tears, and, when he quitted her, he immediately flew to an advocate, who infoinied him Ihat every chance of escape was fruitless, as she stood con- • demned by her own confession. Every day INIr. S. waited on the unfortunate Sophia, and became more enamoured at each visit. — " Sophia," said he one day to her, " I will marry you. — Induced by my respectability and this step, I hope your judges will grant you a pardon." Sophia wept but the more at his generous goodness, without indulging a hope •of softening her remorseless judges. — The amorous INIr. S. then waited personally on the meifibers composing the tri- bunal, and obtained from some the tear of compassion, from others a stern rebuke. At 'length the day of judgment hav- ing arrived, various were the opinions of the crowded and compassionating court. — The general wish however was de- ■ ceiled, and Sophia was sentenced to death! — When she was re-conducted to prison, the Candidate did not forsake her. " JMy love," said he, *' our happiness is at au end. — 40 CHARLES AND SOPHIA. They have rejected my proposal of mari-iage; I would yield up my forlune as a mulct; but they will have nothing but your lite. — In taking your's, they take mine. — There is ano- ther world, into whirh it is my determination to follow you, since we cannot be united hero/' Sophia fell at his knees, urged him by his love for her not to execute this rash de- sign ; but he adhered to his purpose, and told her soon to look for him in eternity. On the dawn of the day of execution Mr. S. attended the wretched Sophia, encouraging her, and stated his intention of seeing her respectably interred; after which her gra\e should be the altar of their marriage. When Sophia mounted the scaffcld, a general cry of pardon arose among the popu- lace. — *' Simple people," said I\Ir. S. " when you die, may you have a soul as free from guilt as that of this dear unfor- tunate !— You call her wretched, who is about to enter into eternal happiness ! — but ye speak from piiy, not reflexion !" ' He tied the bandage himself on the eyes of Sophia, and having tenderly embraced her, ,he promised, in a whisper, to be wuh her before the sun had repassed the horizon. — She replied by a sigh, and in less than a second the exe- cutioner separated her head from her body. — The body having been delivered up to her friends, Mr. S. attended the burial, and evinced a spirit more firm and calm than could have been expected. — This, however, was but decep- tive; for at midnight he scaled the churchyard walls, and, laying himself on the turf beside the grave of lus dea'y Sophia, with a pistol he effected his fatal purpose, and was buriedon the remains of the object of his affections. FINIS. TPlummer, Printer, Setthing-Laiie, Pamphlet Binder Gaylord Bros.. Inc. Stockton, Calif. T. M. Reg. U.S. Pat. Off. CD31fll3bD3 ivil09852 t> THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY