The Sun.
London, England, 1832-11-29 00:00:00

LITERATURE.

FAMILY LIBRARY. LONDON, 1832.
The present number (which is the thirty.
sixth) consists of a republication of Mr. Nelson
Coleridge's clever little work, " Six Months in
the West Indies," with the mere addition, as
the author observes in his Preface, of one or
two notes, and a few verses. As Ile noticed
this work when it made its first appearance, we
shall say nothing further at present, than that its
republication is a proof of sound judgment on
the part of the Editor of the Family Library.

D TTERB 0 URNE. —3 VOLS.
RICHARD BENTLEY, LONDON, 1832.
Otterbourne is a spirited tale of the Walter
Scott class, and bears, in every page, indications
that the author has studied the domestic history
and legends of the time which he writes about
with more than ordinary attention. One quali-
fication, however,--and that a material one—he
is sadly in want of, we mean compression, or
the " art to blot." He has spread over the
ample surface of three vols. the materials which
should have been comprised in two. Hence in
many of his pages there is an air of feebleness
and vagueness, which is greatly prejudicial to
effect. We regret This, for there are passages,
and indeed whole chapters in Otterbourne,
which prove that the author has a quick eye for
the picturesque, and much vigour and liveliness
of fancy. Of such a character are his details of
the furious battle of Otterbourne, which Percy
has immortalised in his delightful " Reliques,"
and which was one of the bloodiest and most
obstinately contested border feuds that ever took
place on the northern marches. The Percy and
the Douglas—names renowned in song, and
specially dear to the writers of romantic fiction—
here showed the high mettle of English and
Scottish chivalry. These two chieftains figure
with considerable effect in Otterbourne. As a
favourable specimen (though not the most so)
of the author's powers of descriptions, we give
a portion of his details of this border feud :
" Raimond Farneley was one of the earliest to catch
sight of the impending storm. It came oil in imposing
character. Displayed by a flood of moonlight, the Cale-
donian power in full battalia present.d itself, advancing
with rapid force to the attack. Bold as he was, the
spectacle of such a formidable and compact body, pressing
forward with all confidence of anticipated victory—making
the very ground shake beneath its heavy passage, and the
quiet night-air ring with wild cries, he felt momentarily
dismayed. But he fought under a leader as quick to dis-
cover the perilous visitation as himself, and to whom dis-
may, for any cause, was a feeling unknown. Danger was
to him delight, and the shape in which it now threatened
did but rouse his energies.
"' Ho, mates ho !' he shouted, making his deep but
sonorous voice audible above the general din. ' The foe's
main battle's on our right ! Knights ! look to your pen-
nons !—serry spears, Berry ! change front. The knaves
think they've limed us ; we must speak them a rough
nay-say. What prickers are those that loiter 'mong the
spoil ? dalesmen, I warrant—up, up, and take your
ground, ye landraking rogues ! is this a time for pilfering ?'
" By prodigious efforts, in which he was well seconded
by other leaders, he succeeded in bringing his force into
hasty alignment against the nearing charge. This done,
or rather the moment it appeared in a fair way to be done,
be spurred out beyond the foremost ranks.
" We will not let our horses cool, my hearts !' he ex-
claimed. Forward to the meeting !—upon 'em !—St,
George for England ! and Esperance fur Percy !'
"He appealed to boiling blood. At the words, the
English chivalry dashed on amain, and ere a fresh breath
could be drawn the rival hosts closed with a shock awfully
tremendous. In a few moments more every arm, of horse
and foot, on either side, was engaged in the strife.

" A fight, the most inveterate, sanguinavy, and pro.
longed which the history of ages, rife in such events, has
handed down to us, ensued. Order or arrangement of
action there was none. Sometimes, the murderous iron-
wave surged tumultuously one way, then rolled heavily
back the other, mat king at each flow rather the indomit-
able spirit of the struggle, than any change in its fortune.
The war-cries, at the beginning frequent and piercing,
gradually became less otten iterated, and then, in tones
hoarse and distinct. Several, which erst had waked the
echoes, sunk altogether, leaving the unhappy fate of their
owners to be sadly inferred. But the rain of blows—the
clash and clang of steel, increased rather than diminished,
and yells, not of defiance but of suffering, began more to
afflict the ear. The bright moon, now high in the hea-
vens, threw a pale radiance over the fearful scene, render-
ing the horrible fleshings of bill, brand, and battle-axe,
but too distinct, as they swung and circled above the ed
dying throng. The whole contrasted strongly and
strangely with the hour, and the wild stillness of the neigh-
bouring hills.
" The slogan of the Douglas, a sound which usually
repelled and oiverted elsewhere the tide of ordinary adver-
saries, was the breath of attraction to at least three des•
perate warriors on this eventful evening. Need we say
that the foremost of these, and he who hacked and clove a
path .or his fellow-braves, was the invincible Hotspur.
The planet of his house literally and figuratively ascendant,
eventfully rewarded efforts memorialised in gouts of Scot-
tish blood : for, gaining a temporary vantage-ground, he
saw its beams kissing the white outline of the Brabant-lion
—his captured insignia—streaming in the wind above the
heads of a knot of Scots. To behold, and to make his
destrier bound, through all intervention towards it, was
one act. Doughty indeed must that enemy have been who
could have wittistohd the more than mortal power that
nerved bins.

" Riimond Farneley and De Neville were both in his
rear, and simultaneously saw his object: saw him lop
away, as a woodman clears a copse, the weak branches of
resistance offered to his career, with mingled sensations.
The first could not help feeling pride in the prowess of
his lord, even though forestalled by it in a darling desire :
the last, looked on with envy indeed, but also with a sort
of satisfaction that the prize was about to be won by a
competitor so pre-eminent, and one he did not, in a cer-
tain sense, regard as an obnoxious rival.
"It was won. The hapless esquire, Glendonwin, to
whom the unlucky honour of bearing the trophy had been
committed, gave up life and trust together.
" Ha-hah ! a rescue! a rescue!' shouted Hotspur
exultingly waving his recovered banner in the air. ' The
Percy, for himself !—What Scot dares the Percy ?'
" ' I—the Douglas !' rose in answer from a little dis-
tance, and with the defiance, the furious utterer could be

seen working through the press to back it.
" The par ies here being in the very centre of the
mel'ie, a dire confusion reigned around, and blows were

dealing so fast and discriminately that each man's constant
care was neces,arily that of his own head. Farneley des-
perately tasked at the moment by a huge Lothian man-at-
arms, found exclusive employment most unpropitiously for
the juncture.
" Farnely, my bold esquire,' cried Hotspur, snatching
a hurried look about, before springing to meet the Douglas.
' where art thou ?' There was no response. ' Ha! De
Neville ! (recognising the young knight) thou art well at
call. There is the toy you covet ; keep it as thy love dic-
tates—l care not for it now, and must have free hands.
Douglas, have at thee !'

" Thus speiking, he threw to De Neville the banner he
had just regained, and urged on to a collision with his
raging foe.

" Raimond dismissed to earth his personal opponent
barely in time to note, with a bitter pang of disappoint-
ment, the above transfer. He felt as if the genius which
had guided and sustained him hitherto, had wilfully de-
serted him : but the soul of a warrior--the inflamed blond
of manhood still lent him the, now as it were mechanical,
impulse of conduct. He spurred vengefully after his lord,
to the place where Douglas, Swinton, Lundie, and other
famous Scottish lances created a whirlpool amidst the
billows of the conflict.

" Esperance ! esperance !' repeated Hotspur, riding at
the Lithilesdale thane with a force that overthrew an
esquire, man and horse, who chanced to impede his career.
This hour's worth a life-time !'

" ' It shall end that of one of us,' bellowed the Douglas.
" Thine—and this for it,' retorted Percy, driving the
point of his lance with such amazing force as to pierce
through Douglas's shield And even penetrate his hauberk."