Read Ebook: The Mirror of Literature Amusement and Instruction. Volume 17 No. 478 February 26 1831 by Various

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Meanwhile the second robber, after consulting with his companion, returned to the spot where the zagal Pepe lay rolling from side to side. As he went towards him, he drew a knife from the folds of his sash, and having opened it, placed one of his naked legs on either side of his victim. Pushing aside the jacket of the youth, he bent forward and dealt him repeated blows in every part of the body. The young priest, my companion, shrunk back shuddering into his corner, and hid his face within his trembling fingers; but my own eyes seemed spell-bound, for I could not withdraw them from the cruel spectacle, and my ears were more sensible than ever. Though the windows at the front and sides were still closed, I could distinctly hear each stroke of the murderous knife, as it entered its victim. It was not a blunt sound as of a weapon that meets with positive resistance, but a hissing noise, as if the household implement, made to part the bread of peace, performed unwillingly its task of treachery. This moment was the unhappiest of my life; and it struck me at the time, that if any situation could be more worthy of pity, than to die the dog's death of poor Pepe, it was to be compelled to witness his fate, without the power to aid him.

Having completed the deed to his satisfaction, this cold-blooded murderer came to the door of the cabriolet, and endeavoured to open it. He shook it violently, calling to us to assist him; but it had chanced hitherto, that we had always got out on the other side, and the young priest, who had never before been in a diligence, thought, from the circumstance, that there was but one door, and therefore answered the fellow that he must go to the other side. On the first arrival of these unwelcome visitors, I had taken a valuable watch which I wore from my waistcoat pocket, and slipped it into my boot; but when they fell to beating in the heads of our guides, I bethought me that the few dollars I carried in my purse might not satisfy them, and replaced it again in readiness to be delivered at the shortest notice. These precautions were, however, unnecessary. The third ruffian, who had continued to make the circuit of the diligence with his musket in his hand, paused a moment in the road a-head of us, and having placed his head to the ground, as if to listen, presently came and spoke in an under tone to his companions. They stood for a moment over the mayoral, and struck his head with the butts of their muskets, whilst the fellow who had before used the knife returned to make a few farewell thrusts, and in another moment they had all disappeared from around us.

In consequence of the darkness, which was only partially dispelled in front of the diligence by the lantern, which had enabled me to see what occurred so immediately before me, we were not at once sensible of the departure of the robbers, but continued near half an hour after their disappearance in the same situation in which they left us. The short breathings and the chattering of teeth, lately so audible from within the interior, gradually subsided, and were succeeded by whispers of the females, and soon after by words pronounced in a louder tone; whilst our mangled guides, by groans and writhings, gave evidence of returning animation.

Our first care, when thus left to ourselves, was to see if anything could be done for our unfortunate guides. We found them rolling over in the dust, and moaning inarticulately, excepting that the conductor would occasionally murmur forth some of those sainted names whose aid he had vainly invoked in the moment of tribulation. Having taken down the light from the top of the coach, we found them so much disfigured with bruises and with blood, that recognition would have been impossible. The finery of poor Pepe, his silver buttons and his sash of silk, were scarcely less disfigured than his features. There happened to be in our party a student of medicine, who now took the lead in the Samaritan office of binding, with pieces of linen and pocket handkerchiefs, the wounds of these unhappy men.

The wounded men were at length placed in a cart, and sent back slowly to Amposta, the mayoral showing some signs of returning sensibility, but the unfortunate Pepe evidently in his last agony. The diligence proceeded on its route, and stopped to breakfast at Vinaroz.

The kitchen of the posada at Vinaroz offered a scene of unusual confusion. The hostess was no other than the mother of Pepe, a very decent-looking Catalan woman, who, I understood, had been sent there the year before by the Diligence Company, which is concerned in all the inns at which their coaches stop throughout the line. She had already been told of the probable fate of her son, and was preparing to set off for Amposta in the deepest affliction; and yet her sorrow, though evidently real, was singularly combined with her habitual household cares. The unusual demand for breakfast by fourteen hungry passengers had created some little confusion, and the poor woman, instead of leaving these matters to take care of themselves, felt the force of habit, and was issuing a variety of orders to her assistant; nor was she unmindful of her appearance, but had already changed her frock and stockings, and thrown on her mantilla, preparatory to departure. It was indeed a singular and piteous sight to see the poor perplexed woman changing some fish that were frying, lest they should be burnt on one side, adjusting and repinning her mantilla, and sobbing and crying all the while. When the man came, however, to say that the mule was in readiness, every thing was forgotten but the feelings of the mother, and she hurried off in deep and unsuppressed affliction.

WIT.

Wit is the mind's chief judge, which doth control. Of Fancy's court the judgments false and vain, Will holds the royal sceptre in the soul, And on the passions of the heart doth reign.

DAVIS.

THE TOPOGRAPHER.

TRAVELLING NOTES IN SOUTH WALES.

Gower, Again receive me!--Let me greet Thy "breezy hills, and soft retiring dales"-- Thy hoary ruins, monuments of old-- Thy headlands dark, and rocks stupendous, That battle with the elements, and fiercely, Bound old Ocean's empire.

The population of the county of Glamorgan, in 1821, comprised 101,727 persons.

Gower is rich in memorials of the olden times, as will appear by the sequel to the present paper--those strongholds of ancient despotism, which, by their very ruin, tell of the nothingness of man's power and ambition. We append the following observations of Mr. Britton, who has done more to make the study of antiquities popular, it has been truly observed, than all other antiquaries, past and present, put together. They do honour to his head and heart. After stating that "the subject is replete with amusement on all occasions, and intense interest on many," the author goes on: "I will venture to entreat my countrymen, whenever and wherever they have power, to protect the remaining antiquities from further demolition or defacement. Every castle, abbey, cathedral, fine church, and old mansion, is a monument and memento of a former age, and of former persons;--they are so many indexes to memorable events, to heroes, statesmen, patriots, and philosophers. Architectural antiquities are objects and evidences of incalculable value and interest; whilst standing--however mutilated--they are indications of the vicissitudes and fluctuations of civilized society;--they show man in his domestic economy, and in his historical relations. The person, therefore, who protects one fine work of antiquity, is entitled to the applause of his contemporaries, and of posterity;--he who destroys, or heedlessly neglects it, deserves the reprobation of the civilized world. As Dr. Stukely indignantly hung, in graphic effigy, the man who wantonly broke up the vast and wondrous Celtic Temple of Abury, so every other similar delinquent should be condemned to the literary gibbet. The miserable fanatic who fired York Cathedral is properly incarcerated for life, and thus prevented from doing further public mischief; but there are other fanatics still roaming at large, and permitted to commit devastations on cathedrals and other churches--on castles, old mansions, &c." "Such men, should not be trusted."

VYVYAN.

MANNERS & CUSTOMS OF ALL NATIONS.

ST. NEW-YEAR'S DAY.

J.G.B.

MARRIAGE FEES.

At Northwich, in the county of Cheshire, a whimsical privilege is ascribed, by the charter of that church, to the senior scholar of the Grammar-school: namely--that he is to receive marriage fees to the same amount as the clerk; or, in lieu thereof, the bride's garters.

J.G.B.

ORIGIN OF THE PINE CALLED WHITE-HART SILVER.

"I am a royal hart, let no one harm me."

J.G.B.

WHITSUNTIDE IN GLOUCESTERSHIRE.

One of the most strange customs which time has handed down to us, prevails at St. Briavel's, in Gloucestershire. On Whit Sunday, several baskets full of bread and cheese, cut into small squares of about an inch each, are brought into the church; and immediately after divine service is ended, the churchwardens, or some other persons, take them into the galleries, from whence their contents are thrown amongst the congregation, who have a grand scramble for it in the body of the church, which occasions as great a tumult and uproar as the amusement of a village wake, the inhabitants being always extremely anxious in their attendance at worship on this day.

This custom is held for the purpose of preserving to the poor of St. Briavel's and Hewelfield, the right of cutting and carrying away wood from three thousand acres of coppice land, in Hudknolls and the Meends; and for which every housekeeper is assessed twopence, to buy the bread and cheese given away.

J.G.B.

DRESSING THE CHRISTMAS TREE IN GERMANY.

This is performed with great ceremony and mystery, on Christmas Eve, by the elders of the family, without the knowledge of the younger members. They deck a large evergreen with presents of various kinds: to toys, bonbons, and such trifles, are added things of more value and use--working materials for the girls, knives, &c. for the boys, and books of amusement and instruction for both. Little tapers are attached to the branches of the shrub; and at break of day the children are roused from their slumber, and when all are ready they are admitted into the room, where the illuminated tree greets their eyes. Great is the anxiety of the young party to see who has been provided for, since the idea they are taught to entertain is, that these tempting objects are bestowed by an invisible agent, as a reward for good children, and that the naughty and ill-conducted will find no share allotted to them.

SPIRIT OF THE PUBLIC JOURNALS.

ST. JOHN LONG

FLOWERS IN A ROOM OF SICKNESS.

Bear them not from grassy dells, Where wild bees have honey-cells; Not from where sweet water-sounds Thrill the green wood to its bounds; Not to waste their scented breath On the silent room of Death!

Kindred to the breeze they are, And the glow-worm's emerald star, And the bird, whose song is free, And the many-whispering tree; Oh! too deep a love, and vain, They would win to Earth again!

Spread them not before the eyes, Closing fast on summer skies! Woo then not the spirit back, From its lone and viewless track, With the bright things which have birth Wide o'er all the coloured Earth!

With the violet's breath would rise Thoughts too sad for her who dies; From the lily's pearl-cup shed, Dreams too sweet would haunt her bed; Dreams of youth--of spring-time eves-- Music--beauty--all she leaves!

Types of lovelier forms than these, In her fragile mould she sees; Shadows of yet richer things, Borne beside immortal springs, Into fuller glory wrought, Kindled by surpassing thought!

Therefore, in the lily's leaf, She can read no word of grief; O'er the woodbine she can dwell, Murmuring not--Farewell! farewell! And her dim, yet speaking eye, Greets the violet solemnly.

Therefore, once, and yet again, Strew them o'er her bed of pain; From her chamber take the gloom, With a light and flush of bloom: So should one depart, who goes Where no Death can touch the Rose!

STANZAS.

Oh! ask me not to sing to-night,

Oh! ask me not to sing to-night Dejection chills my feeble powers, I own thy halls of glittering light Are festive as in former hours. But when I last amid them moved, I sung for friends beloved and dear, Their smiles inspired, their lips approved, Now all is changed--they are not here.

THE LATE MADAME DE GENLIS.

The following smart account of the late Madame de Genlis, is translated from that very piquant French paper the Figaro of the 4th January:--

She nearly died the day she came into the world; a mere chance saved her; and the noble lady lived eighty-five years. What a misfortune, not only for the Ducrest and the Genlis, if the clumsy Bailiff who sat down in the arm-chair where the infant prodigy had been left by the careless nurse, had crushed under the ample and heavy developement of his various femoral muscles, the hope of French literature! The concussion would have despoiled us of a hundred volumes, and Heaven can witness what volumes! History in romances; morality in proverbs; and religion in comedies. This is what the world of letters would have lost,--society would have lost a very different thing.

Foul-mouthed people allege Madame de Genlis to have been a great coquette, which, is a calumny. She was virtue itself. No doubt she was the object of rude assaults; public declarations, scenes of despair, disguises, eulogies in verse, madrigals in prose--all were employed to seduce her affections; but she resisted always. To revenge her cruelty, they attacked her morals, and epigrams rained on her. She replied by her Memoirs--rather diffuse confessions, which Lavocat contrived to dilute further--but edifying, and which have demonstrated that if Mad. de Genlis was not canonized in her life-time, it was because there is no longer any religion to speak of, or that she neglected to cultivate interest with the Pope.

One poet had the audacity to put up Madame de Genlis' honour at the Exchange for a dollar; the ladies of the Directory exclaimed against this; the Countess herself said nothing: she despised the exaggeration which nobody could credit. In truth, Madame de Genlis was quite as good as the particular Queen, whose modesty was only to fall before the millions of a Cardinal-Duke.

Mirabeau boasted, in one of his letters, that he had communicated his own tenderness to the charming tigress; but Mirubeau was a vain, good-for-nothing coxcomb, and the boudoir on four wheels which he presented as the theatre of his triumph, was a horrible invention. The proof is, that Madame de Genlis says nothing whatever about it in her Memoirs. Posterity should be just towards the illustrious Countess, and accept, as sincere, her revelations. Let us, then, consider her as the most virtuous of women; as the least arrogant; the most sensible; the most learned; for all, in fine, that she desired to appear; for Madame de Genlis never said what was untrue; she solemnly declares so.

Madame de Genlis died almost suddenly, and was employing herself as usual, when death struck her. She leaves two works, which will, no doubt, be published as soon as a bookseller is found to put them together, and idlers seem disposed to read them. The King offered her rooms in the Tuileries, and she had replied to his gracious proposal the evening before she died.

FINE ARTS.

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