THE CONFESSION.

Colonist, Volume II, Issue 106, 26 October 1858, Page 4

THE CONFESSION.

BY MRS. O.L.BALFOUR.

'• "Vice is a monster of such hideous mien, As to be hated, needs but to be seen ; , But seen too oft, familiar with her face, We first endure, then pity, then embrace." In one of the loneliest and loveliest spots in that region of the picturesque—the Isle of Wight, stood a humble yet comfortable cottage —not a dwelling so called from a love of the romantic or from " The pride that apes humility;" but an actual lowly habitation, situated on what, in . the language of the district, is termed a landslip—a sort of terrace or belt of verdure running around the bosom of one of the high white cliffs from which the island receives its name, where the cottage, with its little patch of garden ground, rich in flowers that the soft, and genial climate gave unusual luxuriance to, stood secure and sheltered by the . soaring peak that high above had " reared its awful form," and looking out upon the dazzling and. ever agitated waves that broke upon its base, like sparkling human hopes bursting as empty bubbles against the flinty realities of the world. The inhabitants of this cottage were three in number—a widow and her son, who, following the dangerous calling which had proved fatal to his father, was a fisherman ; and a lodger—a man apparently in the decline of life. The cottage, though as 'we have stated, a humble dwelling, was the first of its class in neatness and comfort ; and both the widow and her son were people respectable, and respected in their j station. It had been many years the custom of Dame Etheridge during the summer j months to let her pretty parlor, with its magnificent prospect, and the equally pleasant best bedroom over it, to any of that numerous class of tourists whose means were too limited to seek for more expensive, though perhaps less comfortable accommodation in the more frequented parts of the island. The lodger who now occupied her apartments was not a mere bird of passage —he had resided two years in her pleasant abode, and was a source of considerable profit, though of great trouble and anxiety, to Dame Etheridge, who often bewailed his coming; and though conscientious in the discharge of her duty, frequently wished for the period when the agreement for her services and the apartments would cease. Her complaints were not unfounded. Her lodger had been placed with her by a relation, who stated that the unfortunate man had been for some years an inmate of a private madhouse, but being restored, at least in a great measure, to reason, his relations, from motives of tenderness, and also in compliance with his wishes, decided on placing him in a private habitation, where quiet, domestic attention, seclusion from society, and a view of nature iri one of her loveliest haunts, would restore his mind to its original tone. Mr. Heath, the gentleman in question, was described as having been perfectly mild and harmless, even when mad, and therefore the widow willingly undertook to receive him as an inmate, and to watch over him with careful solicitude. She, however, had soon ample room to regret her precipitancy, for the melancholy of her lodger was so profound, his sullenness or reserve so great, that the simple-hearted inhabitants of the cottage felt as if a dark shadow had spread over their tranquil home; and the gloomy stern despondency so constantly witnessed, seemed to reflect itself on both mother and son, and to banish smiles, cheerfulness, and serenity from their dwelling. When time had in some measure reconciled them to the stranger's demeanour, a new feeling arose in the rriind of the hostess—a sensa- j sion of dread which almost absorbed compassion, and,as she sat during the long winter evenings waiting her son's return from his perilous occupation, she would listen to her lodger's monotonous tread as he paced, with untiring regularity, up and down his room, heaving' at intervals, sighs that, in the stillness of the house, echoed with "startling vehemence through the lonely dwelling. "Lord grant," the poor woman would exclaim in her terror, " that I have not brought a curse upon my house by letting this terrible man come here. He must have done something very bad, I'm sure he must, or he'd never take on-so." Theri, as if the charity of her nature reproved her suspicions, she would say : "To be sure, there's terrible troubles that may happen to people. Ah ! who should know that better than me !—-that lost my husband in a moment, —had him sriatched away from me without a parting word or look ; I ought to feel for another., Perhaps I should have gone melancholy, if it -had not been for William." The mention of her. son's nariie usually directed her anxieties into a different channel, for, looking abroad upon the night, prayers for his safe return banished all minor cares. Spite of all l}er endeavours to the contrary, the suspicions of Dame Etheridge, regarding her lodger, gained strength with time; for rest, or release froth : sorrow, the wretched man never knew ;•: his language seemed to be sighs, and his "drink tears." The pillow on which he rested his' aching head told, by its wetness,; of floods of grief, poured forth in the silent- watches of the night. While the countenance of the mail j actually white with extreme paleness, his thin and bloodless lips, his large mournful eyes, bright with the scarcely, extinguished light; of insanity, his hair, white as silver before its time, and the excessive thinness of ah attenuated and slightly stooping form,, bdwed with grief more than years, present*? Ed a picture of mental suffering no one could behold without emotion. He seldom spoke, never unless appealed to, and then in as few words as possible. He had no books but one, all others he constantly refused; and that one was all-sufficient for his sorrow, if he could have read it patiently. It was a small pocket Bible—he never for a moment parted from it—wearing it usually in his bosom; once, however, his landlady t had aa opportunity of looking at it, andy

she saw written ori the fly-leaf," Maria Heath, the gift of her anxious'and affectionate father." The unfortunate man's melancholy and reserve were not his only peculiarities; he was so sparing and obstinate about his diet, that great difficulty was experienced in getting him to take sufficient to sustain ' life ; he seemed to make a point of depriving ' himself of everything but the merest necessaries, these he chose coarse in quality and scarce in quantity. There was no doubt but his health was failing under such mental sufferings, and so severe a self-inflicted regimen; but no complaint ever escaped him, and his decline was so gradual as to be almost imperceptible. His conduct during thunder storms was the most unaccountable; he invariably went out of the house to some distance and seated himself on the cliff till the tempest passed. When Dame Etheridge entreated him not to act so incautiously, he once made her a reply she never forgot. " I leave your house," he said, " to save you from injury*on my account." Once the widow and her son followed him to bring him in, when, in a voice that was heard even above the tumult ofthe elements, he commanded them, on " the peril of their lives, not to come near him," a command which, in their terror, they' obeyed, and never after, at such periods, did they interfere with him. To add to the vexation of Dame Etheridge, her son's distaste to her lodger was so great, that he preferred going down to the village, as the few fishermen's huts^ were called,, and spending his evenings there at a singing club, held at the little ale-house, which, like an unsightly tumour on the human form, absorbed all the, real nourishment and comfort of the humble neighborhood, and -gave them nothing biit weakness, poverty and discontent in return. This habit of her son's was a sore blow to Dame Etheridge. The house she knew was the resort of smugglers, and she feared also that habits of intemperance might seize on her son, change his affectionate nature, and wither his good name. It was in vain she expostulated; William always asserted, "he did not drink; he cared nothing at all for drink; he liked singing, arid it was hard to be cooped up in a lonely house with an old man who was always sighing and groaning enough to make any ;one miserable." With these, and similiar excuses, the poor mother's sorrows were silenced, but not soothed; Once her melancholy lodger surprised her in tears; an expression of sympathy crossed his stern features, and taking the hand of Dame Etheridge, he kindly asked the cause of her grief; it was the first question he had ever asked, and the poor woman in broken accents told her anxiety; relieved at having some one to speak to, though conscious that he was powerless to assist her. " X'y. Her simple statement of her son's newlyformed amusements was listened to with more patience. and attention than. she expected; when she concluded, he sighed deeply, exclaiming:— • ' ' "Ah, poor youth, he has opened the principal gate of the road to ruin !" And without furcher comment he left her. The widow observed that her lodger watched for her son's return for. several evenings, and on some errand or other generally entered the kitchen after William came in, looking fixedly at him, without however making any observation. At length, all Dame Etheridge's fears were sadly realised, when, after waiting uncertain whether her son was necessarily absent in his occupation, or whether he was wasting his time at the ale-house, the sound of many feet where heard coming upthesteep and circuitous path that led to her dwelling. The. heart of the widowed mother died within her, for memory was busy with ■',the sound of those feet that had borne home the lifeless body of her husband. The voice of laughter and rude revelry told, however, that it was not death that was about to enter her dwelling, but sin and shame in the form of her son, helpless through intemperance, and affording" in his degradation, ariiusement for his reckless companions. Who can tell how painful it is to look for the first time on the countenance of those we love, distorted and brutalised with the national vice ?—the mother turned away her eyes, crying, in her agony: "Oh! that I should be afraid to look upon the face of my boy—my own dear boy." After assisting him into the house, the noisy, revellers left the widow's home, and departed for scenes more congenial to their habits. : ; They had, 'scarcely' departed, when Mr. Heath, with ia countenance more ghastly than'usual, from excessive excitement, en-^ tefed the kitchen;' and gazing, in .niburnful' silence^ on.mother and son, stood j apparently absorbed in the train of thought to : which the' spectacle before him seemingly gave rise. . " "My good woman," he said slowly, as he turned to depart, " this is but the beginning of evil;. it must be, checked in time, ere worse come. It will be a dreadful task to me, but if I can serve you in this matter I will. Keep your son with you to-morrow, and, at this hour of niglitj I will come arid talk to him and you." The door closed after him as he ceased speaking, and Dame Etheridge heard him enter his bedroom, and long after the thoughtless young main had sunk into tlie troubled si eep of intoxication, the watch ful .mother heard her logger's measured and melancholy tread, as he paced the room the whole night through, occasionally falling on his knees; and uttering, mournful 'exclamations of remorse or sorrow. On the following day William was suffering the just and salutary punishment of his fault, from nature, (who always warns her children) in a violent headache, and all its train of ills. He was both unable, and unwilling to quit the house; though his mother attached so little importance to the incoherent remarks of her eccentric lodger, that in the! keenness oi* her sorrow, she omitted to

mention his observations to. her son. : She observed that Mr. Heath had serit back his food uritasted during the day, and occasionally a thought glanced across her mind that there might be a hidden meaning in the words he had uttered. When, however, the evening wore away, and he did not leave his sitting-room, the good dame busied herself with preparing some gruel for her son's supper, and advising him to go to bed, she, with true maternal indulgence, carried up his evening meal to his bedside; and feeling the necessity of giving.some admonition, she opened the'book that supplied her both with consolation and reproof, and commenced reading: " Woe unto the drunkards of Ephraim," when both herself and her, perhaps, somewhat unwilling auditor, were startled by the abrupt opening of the door, and the appearance of their lodger, who entered, and drawing a chair, seated himself at the foot ofthe bed exactly opposite mother and son. There was a concentrated expression of determination in his countenance, different from the melancholy wildness usually apparent in his looks and demeanour. Before either the startled mother or son had sufficiently recovered their surprise to utter a word, the uneererrionious visitor commenced speaking, in. a firm, though somewhat hollow tone, and if we except a certain tremulousness about his withered hands, which clasped the pocket Bible before alluded to, his whole manner was earnest and collected. (To be concluded in our next.)

Robbery Extraordinary.—-k .'-robbery.; has been committed at Dawlish of a nature quite unparalleled for audacity. A manpre-' sented himself at the house of Miss -Constance Bio wn (th c 1 ady receri tly personated by the woman who has beeri convicted; of robbing Messrs. Hunt and Roskell), stated that he was.Mr. Inspector Field of; the detective police, arid said he liad:coriie ; ;frpm London to search for a.jquantity of missing plate which, he said, had been stolen ;by Miss Brown. He added, that he desired to perform his duty leniently, but that, if there was any resistance, he should call in the services of some other officers from London whom he had brought with him. After resorting to other threats of the sariie nature he was permitted to make a search. He broke open a dressing-case of Miss Brown's, refusing to allow one of the inmates of the hdiise "to, go. and fetch a locksmith, as he said.he could; not suffer him to quit his sight. Out of this case the sham policeman took a ring, which he said he had been searching for for. the last seven years. The trunks of the lady's maid were next examined, corded, and sent off to the railway station, at the direction of the visitor. Finally, * the plate-chest was overhauled; and, the examination being then completed, some Madeira was ordered,' and the pretended policeman remained till a late hour, enjoying himself. The female 'j members of the family'appear to have been | rather fascinated by his manners,.and to have felt greatful to him for the agreeable way in which he performed a painful duty. On leaving Dawlish, the fellow hady the marvellous audacity to call at. the policestation, and request the constables to keep • a look-out on the house which he had -just robbed. Handbills have been issued by Mr. Field, offering a reward for the apprehension of the thief. He is believed to be the same person who recently Mr. Field at the house of a nobleman in Portland-place, and obtained from him a cheque for £50, on the plea that his son was in great difficulties. When presented ! at the banker's it was. necessary that this ' cheque should be endorsed; and, by writing Mr. Field's name on it, the impostor has made himself liable to a charge pf forgery. Portcullis Chain Barrier — Interesting Military Experiments. —The troops belonging to the Royal and East India Company's Engineers at Chatham, were lately engaged in some siege operations of a somewhat novel character, for the,.purpose of testing the merits of a portcullis chain barrier, the invention of Captain Spencer Westmacott, R.E., and its capabilities of resisting the effect of several charges of gunpowder and roundshot. _One of the chain barriers was erected beneath the archway of the sallyport, leading to the Spur battery and Fort Amherst Redoubt, where the experiments took place. The invention is exceedingly simple, and consists of nothing more than a chain three-eighths of an inch in thickness, which is formed into squares of about a foot in length, and composed of-five links. The merit claimed for the invention by Captain Westmacott is that it will effectually resist the passage of troops into a fort or garrison, and that, owing to its non-resistance, it; cannot be destroyed in the ordinary way by charges of gunpowder. The experiments, which t were tried yesterday in the presence of about 200 officers, were undertaken with the view of ascertaining whether the portcullis could be destroyed. A' charge of 60 lbs. of gunpowder was first fixed against the barrier, and the thick wooden doors closed. The powder was then fired^ the result of the explosion being that, although the doors were shivered to atoms, the brickwork of the sally port loosened, and all the shutters and doors of the rooms nearly blown off, yet the chain remained perfect. Captain Westmacott then had ahpther charge of 60 lbs. of gunpowder hung on the chains of the barrier, and on this'being fired not the least impression appeared "to be made on the chain of the portcullis. Colonel Sandham, director of the Royal Engineers' establishment, by whom the experiments were conducted, then directed two charges, each of 60 lbs., to be tried against the barrier, the charges of gunpowder being secured on oaken planks, and placed against the barrier. Notwithstanding the tremendous explosive force of this charge, which actually tore away a portion of the brickwork in the thick arch of the sallyport, the only impression made on the chain bar-

~:^'.::*~ .... —™—' = ' ,'* j''** -*~aEgy rier was the tearing'away of that 'part of tha portcullis which was attached/to the' chain itself being forced asunder. . The cbutef strain • it was considered by the inventor, ywould fall on the sides of the barrier, arid-' these were secured by rings to iron pillars, but in any future experiments additional strength will, be given to that part of the chain attached to the upper part ofthe arch. After the whole of the diarges 1 had' been ignited Colonel Standham directed a'6pounder field gun to be wheeled up for the purpose of trying the effects of shot- on the - barrier. Here, however, as may be readily supposed, the portcullis offered no resistance to the cannon shot. The first ball, fired from a distance of 40 yards, broke an aperture in the chain sufficiently large to enable any troops to pass through. Several other shots from the 6-pounder were likewise fired, and in each portions of the chain were carried away. On the whole the experiments, which were witnessed Toy a large number of scientific gentlemen,' were considered very satisfactory, and should the newly-invented chain, portcullis fail in acting as an impassable barrier,, it will, it is supposed, prove' wherever used a very formidable obstacle to the passage of troops. A Dream of Deathfulfilled.byXFear.— A farmer's wife has been relating to me the circumstances attendant upon the death of her father; and, as they bear a certain degree of similarity to the later incidents of A. A.'s narrative of "Lord Lyttleton and the Ghost," they are, perhaps, worthy of a note, more especially as they would jseem to bear out your correspondent's remark, "that the sudden revulsion of feeling, from a state of fancied security to the finding himself at the moment in the very instant of the dreaded danger, had caused such a reaction, as to bring on the fits, which: had carried him off." My informant told me that her father was taken ill. about Christmas time. One night he dreamed, or, as he said, " he awoke and saw" two men fighting together at the foot of his bed, one of whom told him that he would die on the ensuing 13th of March. In the morning Jie related this to his family and both he and they made light of it. He, shortly after this, recovered, and, when the 13th March came, he was apparently in very good.health. Qn the evening of that day he referred to his dream, and observed, "I have done the ghost!" " Don't be too sure of that," said a foolish old woman who was present; "it's the2Jew Style now, and ghosts don't kriowanything about it. They.always go by the Old Style 1" and this village oracle told him that it would not really be the 13th of March (by the ghost's calendar,) for, if ,1 remember rightly, twelve days to come. The farmer laid this to heart, took to bed^and. died on the very day predicted by the old woman, - who, notwithstanding that he ascribed .the calamity to the ghostly warning, would have met her deserts by a summary conviction for " manslaughter."— Notes and Queries. Clerical Comforts in the Olden Time. In the books of the parish church of Darlington the following entry may: be seen :—ltem, for six quarts of sacke for ye minister who preached gwhen he hadde no minister to assyste him 9s. Item, for one quarte of sacke for Jillet ye days he pleached, 2s. 6d. Item, for one pinte of brandye for Mr. George Bill ye days he preached,- Is. Item, for a stranger who preached, a dozen, of ale, 3s. m Item, for ale and brandye ye day ye Dean of Durham preached here 9s. 6d.—Darlington Times. Crossed Cheques. —A trial in the Exchequer Court lately settled that in the present state of the law no real protection is gained from the practice of crossing cheques.' Some months back a cheque for £126 crossed "and Company" was stolen from'a. letter, and the thief, having erased this writing, obtained payment at the London Joint-Stock. Bank. • An action in the Court of Common-Pleas to recover the amount'from the bank proved ' unsuccessful,—the Court havingrnJed that - the crossing was merely,to be regarded.in -the light of a direction, which any one might recover or alter at pleasure. " The. case was then carried to the Exchequer Chanlber, but ihe result has .been ■ a confirmation ofthe original judgment." v ' The .Emperor Napoleon and an of England. —f can answer for the following anecdote:—A general officer, with whorh f am personally well acquainted, dined last week with the Emperor. ■ After dinner the talk was. of Bernard's acquittal. r !f*he'; General I allude to was -standing! close -to j the Emperor, and condoled with him. upon ; the .latter circumstance; .when, passing ~ ! from condolence.to another tone,, he allyat * - 1 once said, —" Ah! sire 1. when shall I again see those Englishmen face to face,' as at I Waterloo ?" The Emperor:smiled graciously, i put his hand On the speaker's arm, and , said, —" Hush, hush, General! don!t. take fire so readily." A bystander who witnessed this little scene observed—■" The. Emperor's look, voice, manner, and entire air reminded me ofthe times when, in 1851 and 1852, he used to. say to those who asked when France would be again an empire ? ' Hush! France can never be anything but a republic' " I tell you this because I can vouch -for it.— Paris Correspondent of the Manchester Guardian. > Ky A few days back, in Birmingham, a child, putting its hand into a hole down which '' a mouse had just run, found a. tin box, the , contents of which proved to be upwards of a hundred £1 notes issued by Birmingham banks, thirty or forty years back. Nearlysixty of them were the notes of Messrs. Spooner and Attwbod, who, of course, had to pay their value when they were presented ... at the counter. Other ofthe notes belonged )', to Messrs. Taylor and Lloyd's, and to the long defunct bank of Mr Galton. In reference to Mr. Rarey's mode of taming unruly horses, the Morning Chronicle says: "It is said that the Chancellor" , ofthe Exchequer has purchased the. secret,,.' which will be first tried on" the Speaker,*--, and subsequently on the House '_ of Commons!" . '\. . " y.~.\.\;.~