the field and alighted at his mother's lodgings in Whitehall, with whom he was shut up for the space of two or three hours, the noise of their discourse frequently reaching the ears of those who attended in the next rooms. And when the Duke left her, his countenance appeared full of trouble, with a mixture of anger—a countenance that was never before observed in him in any conversation with her, towards whom he had a profound reverence; and the Countess herself (for though she was married to a private gentleman, Sir Thomas Compton, she had been created Countess of Buckingham shortly after her son had first assumed that title) was, at the Duke's leaving, found overwhelmed in tears, and in the highest agony imaginable.

"Whatever there was in all this," says Clarendon, "it is a notorious truth, that when the news of the Duke's murder (which happened within a few months. after), was brought to his mother, she seemed not in the least degree surprised, but received it as if she had foreseen it; nor did afterwards express such a degree of sorrow as was expected from such a mother, for the loss of such a son."

This is the story as repeated by the grave historian of the so-called "Rebellion," with the assurance that it is "upon a better foundation of credit than usually such discourses are founded upon." Other versions of the mysterious affair were published some few years after the Duke of Buckingham's murder; and although the discrepancies in them have never been explained, still there has been a sufficient similarity in the leading

features of the narratives to cause most people to imagine that they were all derived from one source. But this does not necessarily follow. If the apparition appeared to different people and at different times-and it does not seem more wonderful that it should have manifested itself to two or more individuals than to one -the variations in the tales told of its appearance are readily explicable. Lilly, the astrologer, notoriously published a false version of the story; and it was for that reason only that Sir Edmund Wyndham, who was fully acquainted with the facts of the case, gave the narrative that ultimately passed into the hands of Aubrey, the antiquary, and by him is thus told :

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"To one, Mr. Towes, who had been school-fellow with Sir George Villiers, the father of the first Duke of Buckingham (and was his friend and neighbour), as he lay in his bed awake (and it was daylight), came into his chamber the phantom of his dear friend, Sir George Villiers. Said Mr. Towes to him, 'Why, you are dead, what make you here?' Said the knight, 'I am dead, but cannot rest in peace for the wickedness and abomination of my son George, at Court. I do appear to you, to tell him of it, and to advise and dehort him from his evil ways.' Said Mr. Towes, 'The Duke will not believe me, but will say that I am mad, or dote.' Said Sir George, Go to him from me, and tell him by such a token (a mole) that he had in some secret place, which none but himself knew of.' According, Mr. Towes went to the Duke, who laughed at his message. At his return home, the phantom appeared again, and

told him that the Duke would be stabbed a quarter of a year after; ́and the warning which you shall have of your death, will be, that your nose will fall a bleeding.' All which accordingly fell out so.

"This account I have had in the main," says. Aubrey, "from two or three; but Sir William Dugdale affirms what I have here taken from him to be true, and that the apparition told him of several things to come, which proved true, e.g. of a prisoner in the Tower that shall be honourably delivered. This Mr. Towes had so often the ghost of his old friend appear to him, that it was not at all terrible to him. He was Surveyor of the Works at Windsor, by the favour of the Duke. Being then (i.e. at that time) sitting in the hall, he cried out, 'The Duke of Buckingham is stabbed!' He was stabbed that very moment."

"This relation Sir William Dugdale had from Mr. Pine, neighbour to Mr. Towes; they were Sworn brothers." Sir Edmund Wyndham married the daughter of Mr. Pine, and possessed a large roll of manuscript wherein Mr. Towes had recorded the particulars of his conferences with the apparition.

WOODHOUSELEE.

MANY of our haunted houses are indebted to ancient feuds, in which their owners suffered or inflicted murder, for their present troubles. Scotland especially has

reaped a crop of ghostly legends and terrifying traditions from the homicidal tendencies of its former notables. The apparition of Lady Hamilton, of Bothwellhaugh, is an enduring monument of the bloodthirsty spirit of the age in which she lived. Her husband, Hamilton of Bothwellhaugh, exists in history as the barbarous murderer of the Regent Murray, whom he shot as he passed through Linlithgow on the 23rd of January 1569; but if any man can be excused for such a crime as assassination, it must be pleaded that Bothwellhaugh is he. Whilst Hamilton was from home, a favourite of the Regent seized his house and, in a cold night, turned out his wife, Lady Bothwell, naked into the open fields, where before next morning she became furiously mad. Her infant, it would seem, also perished either by cold, neglect, or, more probably, murder. The ruins of the mansion of Woodhouselee, whence Lady Bothwell was expelled in the brutal manner which occasioned her insanity and death, are still to be seen, or were some few years since, in a hollow glen beside the river Esk. Popular report tenants these ruins with the unfortunate lady's ghost; and so tenacious is this spectre of its rights, that, a part of the stones of the ancient edifice having been employed in building or repairing the present mansion, the apparition has deemed it one of her privileges to haunt that house also. But a very few years since this apparition of Lady Bothwell, who always appears in white, and with her child in her arms, excited no slight disturbance and terror among the domestics at the new

Woodhouselee, which is situated on the slope of the Pentland Hills, distant at least four miles from the ancient dwelling, Whether this apparition still haunts either old or new mansion we have been unable to learn.

IN March, 1880, a communication was handed to the editor of Notes and Queries, by a well-known contributor of that invaluable publication. The narrative it contained was headed, "Ghost or Nightmare?" clearly an incorrect title, if any credence is to be given to its author. The young lady who indited the communication is described as intelligent, whilst "her hereditary acumen" is declared to be such as "precludes altogether the possibility of any self-deceit in regard to her own personal experiences, as narrated by herself. Moreover,

as it is pointed out, hers is not the only evidence on the subject, as the reader will notice. The contributor to Notes and Queries remarks that it is "in the conviction that this statement contains matter of unquestionable interest to every sort of thinker,” that it is submitted to the consideration of his readers. Evidently acquainted, not only with the fair communicator of the narrative, but also with the locality to which his friend refers, H.C.C. states that "the scene of the occurrences is an old mansion in the north of