convey passengers after a certain hour of the night. The superstitious
notions current among the lower orders were, that at about the hour of
eight on every evening, a female was seen in a small vessel sailing from
Hereford to Northbrigg, a little village then distant about three miles
from the city, of which not even the site is now discernible; that the
vessel sailed with the utmost rapidity in a dead calm and even against the
wind; that to encounter it was fatal; that the voyager landed from it on
the eastern bank of the river, a little beyond the village; that she
remained some time on shore, making the most fearful lamentations; that she
then re-entered the vessel, and sailed back in the same manner, and that
both boat and passenger vanished in a sudden manner as they arrived at a
certain part of the river, where the current is remarkably strong, within
about half a mile of the city of Hereford,

This singular tradition, like most stories of a similar character, was not
without a foundation in truth, as the reader will perceive who takes the
trouble to peruse the following narrative.

In the turbulent reign of Edward the Second, when the whole of England was
one theatre of lawless violence, when might was constantly triumphant over
right, and princes and soldiers only respected the very intelligible, if
not very equitable principle,


"That they should take who have the power,
And they should keep who can,"


the city of Hereford was distinguished by the zeal and patriotism of its
citizens, and by the unshrinking firmness with which they adhered to the