M is

‘ussaoa m aura ncac'r HISTORY or Aflfllltlsll' coolness. .

7 (Front the Dublin University Magazine.)

following paper is written in a female hand, and was no doubt communicated to my much regretted friend, i by the lady whose early history it serves to illustrate, the Countess D . She is no more—she .Iong Ssince died, a childless and widowed wife, her letter sadly predicts, none survive to'whom the publication of this narrative can prove “ injurious, or even painful.” Strange! two powerful and wealthy families, that _in,which she was born, and that into which she had married, have ceased to be—they are utterly extinct. To those who know any thing of the

history of Irish families, as they were less than a century ago, the facts contained in this paper 1 will at once suggest the names of the principal l“ actors ; and to others their publication would be

useless; to us, possibly, if not probably injuri- ous. I have, therefore, altered such of the names as might, if stated, lead at once to detec- tion; others, belonging to minor characters in the story, I have left untouched.

* ' "x‘;

My mother died when I was quite an infant, and of her I have no recollection, even the faint- est. By her death, my education and habits were left solely to the guidance of my surviving parent; and, as far as a stern attention to my reli ious instruction, and an active anxiety, evin- uagbi hll’Pmce'ing for me the best masters to perfect me in those accomplishmms which my station and wealth might seem to require, could avail, he amply discharged the task. My father was what is called an oddity. and his treatment of me, though uniformly kind, flowed less from afiection and tenderness. than from a sense of obligation and duty. Indeed, I seldom even spoketo him, except at meal times, and then his manner was silent and abrupt : his leisure hours, which were many, were passed either in his stu- dy or in solitary walks ; in short, he seemed to take no farther interestin my happiness or im- provement than a conscipgious regard to the dis- charge of his own duty would seem to claim. Shortly before my birth a circumstance had oc- curred, which had contributed much to form and to confirm my father’s secluded habits—it was the fact that a snapicion of MURDER had full- en upon his younger brother, though not suffici- antly definite to lead to an indictment, yet strong enough to ruin him in public opinion. This disgraceful and dreadful doubt cast upon the fa- mily name, my father felt deeply and bitterly, and not the less so that he himself was thorough- ly convinced of his brother’s innocence ; the sin- cerity and strength of this impression he shortly afterwards proved in a manner which produced the dark events which follow. Before. howaver, I enter upon the statement of them I ought to relate the circumstances which had awakened the suspicion ; inasmuch as they are in themselves somewhat curious, and in their effects most inti- snater connected with my after history.

“ My uncle, Sir Arthur T n, was agay and extravagant man, and, among other vices, was ruinoust addicted to gaming; this unfor- tunate propensity even after his fortune had suf- fered so severely as to render inevitable a reduc- tion in his expenses by no means inconsiderable, nevertheless continued to actuate hint, nearly tq the exclusion ofall other pursuits ; he was, how- ever, a proud, or rather a vain man, and could not bear to snake the diminution of his income a matter of congratulation and triumph to those with whom he had hitherto competed, and the consequence was, that he frequented no longer the expensive haunts of dissipation ; and retired from the gay world, leaving his'coterie to discover his reasons as best they might. He did not, however, forego his favourite vice, for, though he could not worship his great divinity in the costly temples where it was formerly his wont to take his stand, yet he found it very possible to bring about‘binsfijsufficient number of the votaries of chance to answer all his ends. The consequence - was, that Carrickleigh, which was the name of i any uncle’s residence, was never without one or l more of such visiters as I have described. It

ha that upon one occasion he was visited

by gh Tisdall, a gentleman of loose hab- its, but of considerable wealth, and who had, in early youth, travelled with my uncle upon the continent; the period of this visitw‘ss winter, and consequently, the house was nearly deserted eace t by its regular inmates ; it was, therefore, high y acceptable, particularly as my uncle knew his visitor’s tastes accorded with his Own. Both ‘parties seemed determined to avail themselves of ' their suitability during the brief stay which Mr. Tisdall had promised ; the consequence gas, tlfaflhey shut themselvesup in Sir Arthur’s pri- vate room for nearly all the day and the greater part of the night, during the space of nearly a week, at the end of which the servant, having one morning, as usual knocked at Mr. Tisdall’s bathroom door repeatedly, received no answer, and u n attempting to enter found that it was locks ; this appeared suspicioug, and the in- mates of thirhouse, having been alarmed, the door was fbrced open, and, on proceeding to the bed they found the body of its occupant perfect- ] lifbless, and hanging half way out, the head ownwards, and near the floor ; one deep wound had been inflicted upon the temple, apparently with some blunt instrument which penetrated “the brain, and another blow, less effective, pro. bably the first aimed, had grazed the head, re- lnbring some of the scalp, but leaving the skull untouched ; the door had been double-locked the inside, in evidence of which the key

still lay where it had been placed in the lock. > . The window, though not at all secured on the ' interior, was closed ; a circumstance not a little- puszlinM it afforded the only other means of escape ” the room; it looked out, too, upon a kind of court, round which the old buildings stood, bruterly accessible by a narrow door-way

——-—~7

y,

' to preclude all ingress or egr

emere undisturbed, a circumstance aim

. V . . . t ‘ d_ fill passage lying in the oldest side of the qlla

I i i ' ' been builtu ,soaS single, but which had stnce e“; the mgm was also upon'tbe second story, and the height of the window considerable ; near the bed were foun a pair of razors belonging to the murdered man, one of them upon the ground, and. both of them open. The weapon which had inflicted the mor- tal.wound was not to be found in the room, not weft! any footsteps or other traces of the murder- er to be found. At the suggestion of Sir Arthur himself, a coroner was instantly summoned to at-

ver, in any degree conclusive, was elicited ; the walls, ceiling, and floor of the room were careful- ,ly examined, in order to ascertain whether they contained a trap door or other concealed mode of entrance—but no such thing appeared. Such was the minutencss of the investigation employed that although the grate had contained a large fire during the night, they proceeded to examine even the very chimney, in order to discover whe- ther escape by it was possible ; but this attempt too, was fruitless, for the chimney, built in the old fashion, rose in a perfectly'perpendicular line from the hearth, to a height of nearly fourteen feet above the !roof, affording in "its interior scarcely ‘the possibility of ascen't, the flue being smoothly plaistered, and lging towards the top, like an inverted funnel, p66 ising too, even {I the summit were attained, owing to its great height, but a precarious descent upon the sharp-steep- ridged roof; the ashes too, which lay in the grate, and the soot too as far as it could be seen, ost conclu- sive or the question. Sir Arthur was of course examined; his evidence was given with clear- ness and unreserve, which seemed calculated to silence all suspicion ; he stated that, up to the day and night immediately preceding the catas- trophe, he had lost to a heavy amount, but that, at their last sitting he had not only won back his original less. but upwards of four thousand pounds in addition; in evidence of which he produced an acknowledgment of debt to that amount, in the hand-writing ofthe deceased, and bearing the date of the fatal night ; he had men- tioned the circumstance to his lady, and in pre- sence of some of the domestics; which state- ment was supported by their respective eviden- ces. One of the jury shrewdly observed, that the ciicumstance of Mr. 'I‘isdall’s having sus- tained so heavy a loss might have suggested to some ill-minded person accidentally hearing it, the plan of robbing him, after having murdered him in such a manner as might make it appear that he had committed suicide, a supposition which was strongly supported by the razors hav- ing been found thus displaced, and removed from their case ; two persons had probably been enga- ged in the attempt, one watching by the sleeping man, and ready to strike him in case of his awa- kening suddenly, while the other was procuring the razors and employed in infli‘ng the fatal gash,, so as to make it appear to. Ve been the act of the murdered man himself; it was said that while the juror was making this suggestion, Sir Arthur changed colour. Nothing, however, like legal efidcnce appeared against him, and the consequence was, that the verdict was found against a person or persons unknown, and for some time the matter was suffered to rest, until, about five months, when my father received a letter from a person signing himself Andrew Collins, and representing himselfto, be the cousin ofthe deceased ; this letter stated,f that Sir Ar- thur was likely to incur not merely suspicion, but personal risk, unless he could account for certain circumstances connected with the recent murder, and contained a copy of a letter written by the deceased, and bearing the date, the day of the week, and of the month, upon the night of which the deed of blood had been perpetrated. Tisdall’s note ran as follows :—

“ Dear Collins—I have had sharp work with, Sir Arthur; he tried some of his stale tricks, but soon found that I was Yorkshire too—it would not do—you understand me-—we went to work like good ones, head, heart, and soul ; and in fact, since I came here I have lost no time. I am rather fagged, but I am sure to be well paid for my hardship ; I never want sleepso long as I can have the music of a dice-box, and where- withal to pay the piper. As I told you, he tried some of his queer turns, but I foiled him like a man, and, in return, gave him more than he could relish of the genuine dead knmolerlgc. In short, I have plucked the old baronet, as never baronet was plucked before; I have scarer left him the stump of a quill ; I have got promisory notes in his hand to the amount of—if you like round numbers, say, thirty thousand pounds, safety deposited in my portable strong box, alias, doublfiklasped pocket-book. I leave this ruin- ous at-hole early on to~morrow, for two rea- sons—first, I do not want to play with Sir Arthur deeper than I think his security, that is, his mo- ney or his money’s worth, would warrant—and, secondly, because I am safer a hundred miles from Sir Arthur,}han in the house'with him; look you my worthy, I tell youvthis between our- selves—l may be wrpng but, by——,-I am sure as that I am now living, that Sir A— attempted to poison me last night ; so much for old friendship on both sides. When I' won the last stake, a heavy one enough, my friend leant his forehead upon his hands, and you’ll laugh when I tell you that his head literally smoked like a hot dump: ling ; I do not know whether his agitation was produced by the plan which he hadagainst me' or by his having lost so heavily ; t gh it mug; he allowed that he had reason to be 'a tile forked whichever way his thoughts went ; but he pulled the bell, and ordered two bottles of champagne, VWh‘ile the fellow was bringing them he drew out capromisory note to the full amount, which he signed, and as the man came in with'the bottles

out a glass for me; and vvhile hethou‘ght ii‘ii'

eyes were off, for I was putting up his note af-

1 i i.

d is some sediment

tend, and an inquest was held : nothing howe- y

f§0 the world how

“(glasses he desired him to be off; he filled'istpil of honor I felt no . “A J

somethin s1 ly into at, no “but I of ityall,’ and-i; is, i i g " ' I said, with an ’emp ar 3: [vhhllhnggdnii grin hhnotunderstaridflf there m g in fhist’ll not drinkit.” ‘}‘l I; re 1” said he ; and at the same time snatc e ilufrom my hand, and threw itinto the fare. Vhifhzt do you - think of that? have I nuts-ten erlc up) - en to manage? Win or lose, Iwill‘ not p y e; yond five thousand to-night, and‘to-niorgowhsee me safe out of the reach of Sir Arthur? E ahm; patme. So, all things consrdered, »I thyu t a I oft must allow that you are not the last who have;

f°““d a “Wing?” in yours*tdflol'i‘ri§1iiiALL,y

ment, I never and, I am sa-

the time, he droppgd doubt- to. sweetentt ;

n a

Of the authenticity of this docu heard my father express ae‘doubti , _ . f. tisfied that, owing to histstrong comm??? ‘9 l3 vour of his brother, hef.w,ould not havefifilm'tte it without sufficient inqlill’yi mafsmlmh as “ tel'd' ed to confirm the suspicious which already. eitist- ed to his prejudice. Now theonly pomt in this letter which made strongly “gal”St rmy uncle was the mention of the “ dOUble‘Glasped POOkEl‘ book,l’, and the receptacle of the papers hde to involve him, for this pocket-book was not‘forth- coming ndfianywhere to be found, “01: had any papers referring to his gaming transactions been found onéthe dead man ; hou'ever\VKhat§V€l [might have been the original intention O,§,.lh15_C°llmsi neither my uncle or my father hitfi hefll'd more of him; but he published‘the letter in Faulk- ner’s newspaper, which was shortly afterwards made the vehicle ofa much more mysterious at- tack : the passage in that periodical to which I allude, occurred about font years afterwards, and while the fatal occurrence was still fresh in sub- lic recollection';f‘ enced by a rambling preface, stating" that “ a cer ' / son whom certain persons thought to he'dead,was not so,’ but living, and 'in full possession of his memory, and moreover, ready and able to make great de- linquents tremble ;” it then wenton to describe the murder, without, however, mentioning names; and in doing so, it entered-into minute and cir- cumstantial particulars, of which none.,but an eye-witness could have been. possessed,1and by implications almost too unequivocabto be regards ed in the light of insinuatiou, to involve the “ ti- tled gambler” in the guilt of the transaction.

My father at once urged Sir Arthur to pro- ceed against the paper in an action oflibel, but he w0uld not hear of it, nor consent to my fa- ther’s taking any legal steps whatever in the matter. My father, however, wrote in a threat- ening tone to Faulkner, demanding a surrender ofthe author of the obnoxiousarticle; the an- swer to this application is still in my possession, and is penned in an apologetic tone; it states that the manuscript had been handed in,paid for, and inserted as an advertisement, without sufficient inquiry, or any knowledge as to whom it referred. No step however was taken to clear my uncle’s character in thejudgment of the pub- lic; and as he immediately sold a small proper- ty, the application of the proceeds of which were known to none, he was said to have.dis—. posed of it to enable himself to buy ofi‘the threati ened information; however the truth might have been, his certain that no charges respect- ing the mysterious murder were afterwards publicly made against my uncle, and as far as‘ external circumstances were concerned, be en- joyed henceforward perfect security and quiet. A deep and lasting impression, however, hadbeen [Fade upon the public mind, and Sir Arthur gentry and aristocracy of the country, whose at- tentions and courtesies he had hitherto received. He accordingly affected to despise these enjoy- ments which he could not procure, and shunned even that society which he might have command- ed. This is all that I need recapitulate of my uncle’s history, and I now recur to my own. Although my father had never, within my recol- lection, visited, or been visited, by my uncle, each being of sedentary, procrastinating, and secluded habits, and their respective residences being very far apart—the one lyingin the county of Galway, the other in that of Cork—he was strongly attached to his brother, and evinced his affection by an active correspondence, and by deeply and prOudly resenting that neglect which had marked Sir Arthur as unfit to mix in so- ciety. When I was about 18 years of age, my father, whose health had been gradually declin. lng, died, leaving me in heart wretched and de- solate, and owing to his previous seclusion, with few acquaintances, and almost no friends. The provmons of his will were curious, and when I was sufficiently come to myselfto listen or to comprehend them, surprised me not a little: all his vast property was left to me, audio the heirs ofmy body for ever; and in default ofsuch heirs it was to go after @‘y'dealh to my‘ uncle, Sir Ar: thur, .Withouh any entail. At the same time, the Will Iappomted him my guardian, desiring that I might be received within his house and reSidehwith hisf family, and under his curb, do. no teterm ' ‘ - ' .- n of ;" such an arran emeut if d on equeqt Upon

'g V _ , a an some annuity was allotted to him during the term of my proposed . ,, .

reSIdence. I‘he object of thislast provision I at price upderstood; my father desired, by making it the direct, apparent interest of Sir Arthur that should die Without issue, while at the, time he placed me wholly in (liiis power, to; rent an " 5"" ~ confidence in his brignher’s inutiltilesrilalfliliiiclvha his and also to afford him an 0 on o-nor’ that this mark of co fid pp uni °fSheW‘"-g’ bestowed It I) ence was not unworthin . was a strange, perhaps an idle

scheme, but as, I had alw b b in the habit ofc‘ ‘ ' 'i ays een "night up . . finslgflmg my uncle as a deeply "‘Jm’e‘l man, a}; had been taught almost as a Part Of my religion, to regard him ast very farther uneasin .s res. gemeflti than that likely to re-

flitting the arran 'slllt t0 8.. timid gir-

lten thbe first time in has

n was no more visited or noticed by the“ .?

for entering Charlottetown harbour—.Time 0" High

immediate prospect E

5: Map ' e' i i

Previous to lamina" in? Mr should"? do with sheer: hem, 1' p - tender and affectionate letter from my. . calculated, if any thing 90"“ ‘9 V. . the bitterness of parting ‘ffowm' y and dear from my earliest childhood, and in ' degree to reconcile me to the measure-_ It upon a fine autumn evening that Inpme ‘ vthe old domain of Carriekleigh. I shallnot . Erget the impression of sadness and of g 'which all that I saw produced upop my mi if, sunbeams were falling with a rich and lancholy tint upon the fine old trees, ‘. stood in [or . groups, casting their long, sw inn shadoivmVer rookl‘andsward ; there was, ai: of neglect and decay about the spot, svh ‘. amdunted almost to desolation; the symptoms _ this increased in number as we approached _~, building itself, near which the ground had originally more artificially and carefully vated than elsewhere, and whose neglect, r. sequently, more immediately and strikingly I trayed itself. _ I ‘ ' When the carriage drew up in the grass ; r " court yard before the hall door, two lazy‘ ing men, whose appearance well accorded w: that of the place which they tenanted, alar‘” by theobstrepemus barking of a great cha' dog, ran-rout from some half-ruinous out-ho' g and took charge of the horses; the hall of stood open, and I entered a gloomy and im fectly lighted apartment, and found no one in: however I had not long to wait imfiis a V ward predicament, for before my luggage been deposited in the house, indeed before I'h well removed my cloak and other muflles, so ’ . Torenable me to Jock around, a young girl , lightly into the hall, and kissing me hearti and somewhat boisterously, exclaimed “ a dear cousin—my dear Margaret—I am so lighted—so out of breath, we did not expect » till 10 o’clock; my father is somewhere -I ' g the place; he must be close at hand. Jam ‘ ' Corney—run out and tell your master—my . . ther is seldom at home, at least at anflréas, f able hour—you must be so tired—fatigued— me show you to your room—see that Lady : garet’s luggage is all brought up-‘you must down and rest yoursslf—Deborah bring :u' cofi'ee—up these stairs; we are so delighted" see you—you cannot think how lonely I b ‘ been—how steep these stairs are, are not t ‘ I am so glad you are come—I could» b “ bring myself to believe that you were re coming—how good of you, dear Lady Mar rel.” There was real good nature and deli in my cousin’s greeting, and a kind of cons tional confidence of manner which placed ’ once at ease, and made me feel immediatel 1' on terms ofintimacy with her. The room . which she ushered me, although partakin the general .air of decay which pervaded" mansion and all about it, had, nevertheless, -I‘