SHORTLY after the death of Charlemagne, Lobroc, or, as some historians call him, Lodbrog, King of Denmark, finding his kingdom had become too populous, which created great distress and clamour among the people, became anxious to rid himself of the more turbulent part of his subjects; accordingly, to put this into effect, he revived the ancient law of expulsion. In order, however, to give every one the chance of remaining at home, with some resemblance of justice, it was determined to cast lots. Among those upon whom the lot fell was his own son, Biorn, (surnamed Côte-de-fer, from the iron plates of his armour. A great number of vessels were prepared, and the king entrusted the command of the expedition, and the charge of the royal youth, 4-VOL. IV.

E

to Hastings or Hading, a veteran pirate. As soon as the fleet was ready to sail, the old king affectionately parted with his son, and Hastings rowed for Picardy, which was the first object of his attack. He ascended the river Somme, and, with his followers, committed the greatest ravages in the adjacent countries, set fire to the towns, violated the women, and murdered the inhabitants. There was not a church or monastery but what they destroyed, drowned the bishop and clergy of St. Quentin, and grossly profaned their sacred relics. To these dreadful depredations no effective resistance could be offered in the distracted state of France, immediately after the death of Charlemagne; Charles the Bald, his favourite son, having so weakened the army, by his repeated contests with his eldest brother Lothaire, that he was utterly unprepared to resist or punish so formidable a body as these northern invaders, who having, therefore, wreaked their demoniac fury on the province, they betook themselves to their fleet, and proceeded on to Neustria. At Fescamp, the nuns disfigured their countenances to escape the brutal

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violence of the pagans, who, if they spared their chastity, sacrificed their lives, and the convent was destroyed by fire. The magnificent abbey of Jumieges shared the same fate; but the greatest portion of its nine hundred monks fortunately contrived to escape with their relics.

Rouen had its full share of the calamity and from thence the devastating tide flowed over all Neustria, Brittany, and even to the very gates, of Paris. The people scarcely knew where to fly from these "children of hell," as they were denominated. All France was in consternation, and as they successively assailed the towns on the western frontier. The monks, surprised that their venerated relics were of so little avail on so pressing an occasion, were compelled to flee also.

Though years rolled on, no simultaneous movement was made by the French, to stem a torrent, which in all probability they considered as irresistible. At length, not satisfied with the immense booty which had been acquired in that kingdom, Has tings resolved to visit Rome, of the riches of which he had heard exaggerated rumours. He accordingly put to sea, pil

laged in his course several maritime towns of Spain and Africa, and, landing on the coast of Tuscany, he assailed Lucca, which he mistook for Rome. Failing in his assault against that city, he had recourse to one of the most diabolical and hypocritical stratagems that a demon in the shape of man could devise, and one which has been often since employed by other adventurers of his nation.

He caused it to be circulated to the inhabitants of Lucca, that he was disgusted with his present mode of life; that he wished for nothing but liberty to purchase ample provisions for his men, which he would fairly pay for; that his followers were about to return to their native country; and he was labouring under a mortal disease, which made his conscience very uneasy, as he was extremely solicitous about his 'eternal salvation; and he even requested of the clergy pardonand absolution for his sins, and permission to enter the bosom of the Christian church.

Such a pious request could not but be regarded with joy by the pious ecclesiastics of the city: they, in great pomp, waited

upon the governor, and after much persuasion, prevailed on him to grant a temporary suspension of hostilities. This being accomplished, great and splendid preparations were made by them for the public baptism of so renowned a pagan.

On the day appointed for the performance of this ceremony, Hastings was carried to the Cathedral, feigned extreme sickness, and acted his part so well, that none ever expected him to recover. After submitting, with much apparent contrition for his manifold sins, to the sacred rites, he dwelt on his approaching dissolution, and, as the last favour, fervently begged in the most humble manner that the archbishop would permit his body to be laid in one of the vaults beneath the consecrated building. To refuse such an entreaty, so earnestly and pathetically made, was not in the nature of the good brethren, and they readily assured him of their consent, should his death take place in their city.

Totally exhausted, as if struck by the relentless hand of death, he was slowly borne back to his ship. No sooner had he arrived on board than he assembled his leaders, and acquainted them with the design and means he had formed of obtaining immediate possession of the place. In pursuance of his instructions, he was laid in a coffin, and `shrowded in the habiliments of the grave, ready for inter

ment.

His followers then left their ships, and entering the city, suddenly raised a cry of loud lamentation, and informed the inhabitants of the death of the neophyte ; and the clergy were requested to make the necessary preparations for his interment. On the day appointed, the Norman chiefs, accompanied by a great number of the pirates, and all covered with long black mourning cloaks, followed the coffin of their leader to his last mortal home. It was placed on a bier within the spacious edifice. The unsuspecting archbishop, his bishops and inferior priests, with the governor and the principal inhabitants, were assembled to do honour to the memory of one, who, whatever might have been his life, had died as became a true penitent and son of the Holy Mother Church. The solemn funeral rites proceeded; the office and mass had been sung, when the attendants advanced to deposit the corpse into its narrow bed of earth. At that moment Hastings leaped from the bier, drew his sword, and cleft the head of the archbishop in two. This treacherous act was the signal for the other Normans to draw their deadly weapons, which they had concealed under their cloaks. They threw off their incumbrance, fastened the

doors of the Cathedral, and commenced a horrid carnage. The governor, his barons, and the clergy were all massacred; and the whole city was soon abandoned to pillage and slaughter.

After this atrocious act, Hastings returned to France, which, even during his obsence, had suffered no intermission from the ravages of his countrymen. His return threw Charles the Bald into still greater consternation. That monarch's attempts at resistance proving abortive, he at length obtained peace by ceding to the dreaded pirate valuable landed possessions, and granting him a large annual pension, with the honour and dignity of the Count de Chartres, without requiring him to do homage.

To France, Hastings was one of the greatest scourges she had ever experienced. Neither Goth nor Saracen had committed greater depredations on her fair territory, for neither remained long in the country. Bound by no laws, human or divine, he committed deeds which almost overwhelm us with horror. He converted smiling provinces into desarts, covering them with the smoking ruins of towns and villages. Clergy and laity, high and low, felt the effects of his sanguinary character. He spared neither the feebleness of age nor the helplessness of infancy: he sacrificed the priest at the altar, and the infant at the breast of its mother. Female chastity was violated even in the sanctity of the cloister; and the murders of the victims of their brutal lust not unfrequently followed their dishonour.

From these treacherous and diabolical invaders of life, honour, and property, the present Normans are descended."

We have been much gratified with the perusal of a handsome volume under the above title. It is a model of typographic beauty, and may vie with any of the costly works upon which clear and beautiful printing have been lavished. We recognize the skilful hand of an artist of whose productions we ourselves may proudly boast, in numerous spirited wood-cuts which enrich our volumes. The book is a dilated Journal of a Rambler among the picturesque scenery of Switzerland, and is written in a style both simple and perspicuous; in this respect it differs widely from the affected air which pervades books of this description. Here is no straining for effect; no inflated language to catch the ear of the vulgar; facts are recorded in plain, but elegant language; and to add to the interest of many of the scenes, historical references are frequently made. The following brief account of the Swiss hero, William Tell, is, we think, worthy of an extract.

"William Tell was born at the village of Burglen, a few miles to the S. E. of Altorf. One chapel is built there to his memory, a second upon the Tellenplatte, on the Lake of the Four Cantons, and a third at Küsnacht, where he shot Gessler. His portrait appears on almost every signpost in the Canton.

"After the death of Herriman Gessler, Tell's name only occurs once in the history of his country; viz. in a record of a general meeting of the commune of Uri, in 1337, about thirty years after the events which have made his name and memory so popular. He is traditionally reported to have perished in an inundation which befel his native village, when at an advanced age.

"His male issue became extinct in 1684, and the female not till 1720. As might be supposed, many popular and fanciful tales are strung upon the thread of his history and achievements. Though a tower stands upon the spot where, according to the legend, Tell's little boy was placed against a tree, with the apple upon his head, to await the adventurous

* L. B. Seeley, Fleet Street.

shaft from his father's bow, that episode in his story, as well as others of a like nature, may be considered as mere popular embellishments, as they have no sufficient evidence, either historical or traditional, to support them."

The costume of the inhabitants of Meyringen, a pretty village of the Oberland, is thus described.

"The costume of the men consists of a kind of striped jerkin, without breast or arms, so that the waistcoat and shirtsleeves form part of their outward apparel, short small-clothes, and white woollen stockings gartered below the knee. That of the women, on Sundays, is composed of a vest of black velvet, fitting close up to the throat, and very narrow at the back; white, full, and stiffly starched sleeves, coming down to the elbow, and a full and equally stiff greenish yellow petticoat. A small black hat, not much larger than the bowl of a soup-ladle, is stuck at the back of the head, and from underneath this, the hair descends in broad plaits to the heels. On week days, a red handkerchief is substituted for the hat, and a red vest for the black one. Marriage, baptism, and burial, have each their distinct cos

tume.

We quote our author's account of a Swiss marriage.

"While sitting in the elevated churchyard of Thun, which commands one of the finest coup d'-cil in Switzerland, I observed a bridal party entering the church, and followed in the rear, to see how the ceremony was conducted.

"The officiating clergyman afforded me an opportunity of observing the clerical costume of the country. This consists of a black serge gown, fitting close to the shoulders and body, but falling from the small of the back in long full plaits; loose hanging sleeves and cuffs, and a thick white ruff round the neck. A black brimless hat is carried in the hand.

came

"The couple first sat apart, on different sides of the church, and the minister just began to read the prayers, or rather the exhortation, when an unexpected interruption was experienced by the sudden apparition of a poor idiot who, it appears, had been employed to toll the bell on the happy occasion; and who now scrambling out of the roof, by the assistance of a creaking ladder, and finished his descent by a thundering leap or a tumble on the gallery boards. This seemed to be considered as an indecorous intrusion. The Herr Pfarrer stopped short, and the bride elect, who, by the by, was neither young nor handsome, stared round with an expression of some impatience; while the clerk, by whose side I had posted