man

SATURDAY

With a

the miniature, asked what she wanted on it? she replied "a few shillings." "I will give you two," said he. "I wanted, Sir," replied the poor creature, "I wanted three."" It won't "I won't do, old girl," said the man, lend you a farthing more.' heavy heart, she replaced the miniature carefully in its case, and then covered it with a cloth, pinning it down close: she seemed to hesitate for a few moments, when she again asked the "if he would please to lend her three shillings on it."-" No," said the fellow, "not a farthing more than two shillings.""-" Curse thy hard heart," said I, as the poor creature was making the best of her way through the crowd towards the door, where I met her, when I placed three shillings in her hand; she took it-then looked at me-then at the money-then at the miniature-and then again at me."Bless you," she exclaimed; and placing the miniature in her bosom; giving me a look of gratitude and thankfulness, she mixed with the crowd in the street, and I immediately lost sight of her. It was, perhaps, the best use of money I ever made in my life; and with the glorious reflection, that at any rate, I had rendered a poor sufferer happy for the night, I again took my station in the shop; when I beheld a ragged dissipated creature, offering ; but what that to pledge her was, I will tell the reader the next SATURDAY NIGHT.

SATURDAY, FIRST OF

NOVEMBER.

was

FIFTH OF NOVEMBER,

In the year 1605, and the third of the reign of King James the First, there was contrived a conspiracy to blow up both Houses of Parliament, at a time when the King, Lords, and Commons were therein assembled.

The principal instigator was one Robert Catesby, a man of very large fortune, who communicated his plan to Thomas Piercy, John Wright, Christopher Wright, Thomas Winter, Guido Fawkes, Thomas Bates, and Robert Winter, who were also all men of good property, and who not only approved of the scheme, but promised, by a most solemn league, to lend every aid in their power to facilitate its execution; thinking to obtain great reputation among the Papists, (who were at that time in a very confused and disorderly state,) provided they could succeed in effecting it. Accordingly, that they might proceed with the greater precaution and secrecy, Piercy hired a cellar under the Parliament House, where he caused a number of barrels of gunpowder to be deposited, and covered over with a large quantity of wood and coals. With these materials the L2 plot was so far prepared, as to require

little more trouble for putting in force its dreadful purpose, which was intended to have been perpetrated upon the fifth day of November, the day on which the Parliament was to have been convened on the same day also, the conspirators, (the better to prevent suspicion) had contrived a hunting match, at a place called Dunsmore Heath, in Warwickshire, where the Princess Elizabeth at that time was, whom they meant to place upon the throne, thinking that under her government they should be enabled to re-establish the Popish Cause. One of them, however, having a particular regard towards Lord Monteagle, and fearful lest his lordship should meet the fate of the rest, wrote him the following anonymous letter:

"My Lord,

"Out of the love I bear to some of your friends, I have a care of your preservation; for though there be no appearance of a stir, yet, I say, they shall receive a terrible blow this Parliament, and yet they shall not know who hurt them. This counsel is not to be condemned; because it may do you good, and can do you no harm, for the danger is past as soon as you burn this letter. I hope God will give you grace to make use of it, to whose holy protection I commend you."

Upon the receipt of this letter, his lordship was naturally very much sur-prised; and immediately repaired to White-hall, where he made its contents known to the Earl of Salisbury, his Majesty's principal Secretary of State. The Earl, who was equally astonished, acquainted the Lord Chamberlain with it, as also the Earls of Worcester and Northampton, who were unanimously of opinion, that something of a very serious nature was in agitation, and that it was highly necessary to take every means in their power for its discovery. They therefore resolved to communicate the circumstance to the King, when his Majesty agreed with them, that it imported some sudden danger, and commanded, that strict search should be made in and about both Houses of Parliament; and appointed the Lord Chamberlain and Lord Monteagle to superintend the search.

After much examination they came to the place in question, which was situated under the House of Lords, upon inspection into which, they dis

covered the before-mentioned wood and coals (but did not then perceive the barrels of gunpowder) which gave rise to a minute inquiry, by whom the cellar was occupied; when the keeper of the wardrobe gave for answer, that he had let the vault to Mr. Thomas Piercy, and that the wood and coals belonged to him.

While they were thus conversing, the Lord Chamberlain happened to be looking round, when to his great amazement, he perceived a man standing up in a corner, as if endeavouring to hide himself, who, upon being questioned as to what he did there, said that he was Mr. Piercy's servant, and that he came there by his master's direction.

This gave an immediate suspicion that Piercy was the author, of which it was thought advisable to hold another consultation with his Majesty, who was pleased to order that Sir Thomas Knevet, one of the Privy Council, should diligently research the cellar, and make further inquiry; accordingly Sir Thomas, with a proper retinue, repaired to the vault the night before the intended massacre, when they discovered Guido Fawkes, the person who had been before found in the cellar, then standing at the door, whom, after a few questions, they took into custody. They then proceeded to search him, and found in his pockets a piece of touchwood, a tinder-box, and a watch, which he afterwards said Mr. Piercy had bought for him the day before, for the purpose of discovering how long the lighted touchwood would be in communicating with the train of powder, and thereby cause the explosion without the appearance of any person on the spot, and to prevent danger to the miscreant who was to put it into effect.

Fawkes finding himself thus roughly handled, and being thoroughly convinced that these circumstances would lead to a detection of the whole Plot, confessed the fact and declared, that if he had been in the inside of the cellar, instead of at the door, he would instantly have blown the whole up.

The Plot being thus providentially discovered, the news was forwarded to the King, at four o'clock in the morning, who commanded the High Sheriffs of the counties of Warwick and Worcester, in whose jurisdiction the colleagues of Fawkes then were, to make search after, and apprehend them, and they were accordingly found

in the house of Stephen Littleton, at Holbeach, in Staffordshire.

Finding themselves discovered, Piercy and Catesby made a desperate resist ance, and in endeavouring to make their escape, they were both killed; as were also John and Christopher Wright; and the rest were secured, and conveyed to the Tower; and on Jan. 27, 1606, they, together withGuido Fawkes, Thomas Bates, Robert Winter, John Grant, Esq. Ambrose Rookwood, Esq. and Robert Keyes, were brought to trial at Guildhall.

In consequence of the discovery of this infamous combination, his Majesty was pleased to grant to Lord Monteagle five hundred pounds a-year to him and his heirs for ever, as a reward for bringing the offenders to justice.

It was also ordered, that the fifth day of November should be set apart for the celebration of divine goodness, and the solemnities of that day were accordingly added to, and still remain as an addition to the Liturgy of the established Church of England.

GUY FAWKES or VAUX, though a principal actor in this horrid intention and treason, was not the original designer of the plot. He was a gentleman of some property, and an officer in the Spanish service. At the time of the plot he was fetched out of Flanders to assist the mine and fire the train under the Parliament House. When he came to England, he passed for the servant of Piercy, under the fictitious name of Guy Johnson, and was employed in fixing the barrels of powder and faggots in such a way as to elude suspicion or discovery, which was so completely performed, that, as before related, the suspicion arose from the letter.

On January 30th, 1606, Sir Everard Digby, Robert Winter, John Grant, and Thomas Bates, were executed at the west end of St. Paul's Church; and Guy Fawkes was executed with Thomas Winter, Ambrose Rockwood and Robert Keyes, within the Old Palace Yard, Westminster, and near the Parliament House, January 31st, 1606.

Besides the above-mentioned culprits, the Lords Mordaunt and Stourton, two Catholic lords, were fined 1,000. each, and 10,0001. afterwards by the Star-chamber, upon further discovery of their villainies, and because their absence from Parliament had begotten a suspicion of their being deep in the

conspiracy: moreover it was proved that they had advanced considerable sums for carrying on the above work.

The Earl of Northumberland was fined 30,000l. and detained for several years a prisoner in the Tower.

TRANSLATION OF A PAPER,

FOUND AMONG THE BAGGAGE OF A FRENCH OFFICER KILLED AT WATERLOO.

[Continued from page 136.]

This was too much for me. I burst into tears, and, overcome by my feelings, I fainted. In dropping my head upon the pillow, the bandages gave way, and my wounds bled afresh. St. Pierre ran for the surgeon-he was not to be found; but accidentally meeting another, he brought him to my chamber.

On beholding the manner in which my hurts were dressed, this surgeon lifted up his eyes in amazement; and stripping off all the bandages, he re-dressed them himself, declaring that in a few days I should be able to travel. Before they elapsed I had recovered my senses-nor can I say whether the sensations I experienced, on hearing that my life was not really in danger, were agreeable, or the reverse. Now, indeed, I know well what they might have been.

I shall not dwell longer upon my convalescence. In a fortnight I was declared out of danger; but, at the same time, I was desired to return to my native place for the benefit of my health. For this purpose leave of absence was given me, and along with it I was presented with a troop vacant in the corps.

The evening before my departure, St. Pierre entered my chamber. "Dumain," he said, "let us forget the conversation which passed between us some time ago. I cannot now make you happy, neither am I happy myself; but let not any circumstance break off our friendship. In you I have the most unbounded confidence. In Julia my confidence is equally great. To convince you of this, I have desired her to pay a visit to an aunt of mine in Bourdeaux: you will therefore see her when you return thither. Tell her that I envy you your wounds,

as they have been the means of sending you to her."

What could I say in return for conduct so noble? I wrung his hand, but answered not a word. Oh, that he had put less trust in a villian!

I was received by my relations with the warmest affections. My battles, my wounds, my honours, my renown, were the sole subjects of conversation in the village. Julia, too, who was now with the Countess of sent to inquire after my health. I waited upon her next day.

When I entered the saloon, I was introduced to the countess, who soon retired, leaving us together. I trembled all over to find myself again alone with Julia. "Dumain," said she, "I have long wished for such an opportunity as this of speaking a few words to you. You have acted like a man of honour. There is now an insuperable bar between our loves, but we shall still be friends. Though I may not regard you with any warmer feelings, be assured of my lasting esteem and respect." She held out her hand to me with a countenance little moved, except that a faint blush partly overspread it. I grasped it warmly, but immediately checked myself. "Yes, Julia," I replied, " we shall indeed be friends, and our friendship shall be refined by the recollection that, had not circumstances intervened, it might have borne a dearer title." Oh, vain delusive thought, that where love has once been, it can ever give place to friendship.

No matter. We fancied ourselves friends, and nothing more. We sought each other's society with all the eagerness of lovers; and as my connexion with St. Pierre was well known, the scandalous world spoke not out against us. Weeks passed on in this delightful state. We were still innocent, yet we were every day more and more convinced of the real state of our sentiments.

I had been several months at home, and the period of my leave was fast expiring. The day of my departure was at length fixed-I had but one other week to remain. Would that I had died before that week came!

Let me not think of what followed. The thin veil which had hitherto hung over our eyes, the thought of separation tore from them. We again confessed a passion doubly guilty, and

Oh God! Oh God! my friend was dishonoured.

When once guilty of such a crime as I had committed, how does the mind of man become thoroughly depraved. I now thought of St. Pierre with aversion: I even wished, that on my return to the army I might find him no more. With this was joined a terrible apprehension for the consequences of my intrigue, and I left Bourdeaux with the thoughts of a demon rather than of a man. Poor Julia was, like myself, completely wretched. O guilt! thy pleasures are short-lived; thy tortures are eternal.

On my return to the regiment, I found St. Pierre promoted to the rank of Lieutenant-Colonel, and loaded with honours. Our regiment was dismounted, and formed part of the force destined for garrisoning Bayonne, which it was every day expected would be invested. It was here I rejoined it, St. Pierre met me with open arms. He inquired after Julia with all the fondness of an affectionate husband, but I thought he looked suspicious while he spoke. Yet it might have been no more than the whispers of my own conscience, which gave him that appearance. Certain it is, however, that he was much changed. He was pale and thin: and though he still smiled beautifully when he spoke, it was languidly.

I had not been above six weeks in Bayonne, when I received a letter from Julia, giving the most fatal intelligence. My fears were but too dreadfully realized. She was pregnant; I gazed upon the letter in a stupor. She conjured me to save her from infamy and death; she hinted some fearful things, but she proposed no plan. For me, my thoughts were too confused to arrange any thing like a plan. I thought of quitting my regiment, and flying with her to some foreign country. God! I even thought of assassinating St. Pierre. The former idea, however, was generally prevalent, but I had no time to realize it; for our garrison was driven within the walls, and the English army set down before the place.

Let those who can, imagine what were now my feelings. Cut off from all communications, even by letter, with the woman whom I loved more than soul and body, and whom I had ruined. Ignorant even of her situation, and without the hope of being able to see

The first was the Postern-gate, near the Tower, which was formerly a fair and strong arched gate, partly built of hard stone of Kent, and partly of Caen stone. It fell down in 1440, and was never since re-edified, but in the room thereof there is a few posts set up to keep off carts and coaches, there being only a narrow passage for foot passengers there. Here, hard by, in what is called George-yard, one may still take a view of the inside and of the breadth of London Wall. It appears like the natural rock, with the stones so cemented into the work that nothing but the greatest violence can separate them. Upon the west side, about fourteen or fifteen feet high, are seen several old Roman bricks, put into the work between the stones.

[This curious fragment is yet (1823) standing.]

Aldgate so called from its antiquity, and the first of the four principal gates, had once two pair of gates, though now but one, the hooks of them both remain. The old gate of Norman architecture was taken down in 1606,

and the present one built. Upon its top, eastward, stands a fair golden sphere, with a godly vane upon it. On the upper battlements, (as vigilant centinels, and as it were kept waking by Fame's golden trumpet) are placed the figures of two ancient soldiers, each holding a stone ball in his hand, as denying the entrance to any bold enemies, such as are not friends to the City. Beneath, in a square, stands the figure of King James I. in gold armour, and below several ornaments and inscriptions.

Bishopsgate-was first built for the ease of passengers towards the east and by the north; as into Suffolk, Norfolk, Cambridgeshire, &c. the travellers into which parts (before the building of this gate) were forced, passing out at Aldgate, to go east till they came to Mile-end, and then turn on the right hand to Bethnal-green, Cambridgeheath; or else by the north out at Aldersgate, towards Islington, and by a cross set up for a mark by the north end of Golden-lane, to town eastward, through a long street, called Old-street, to another cross standing near Shoreditch church, and then to town again northwards towards Tottenham, &c.

This gate was first built in 1210, and was again new built in 1551. It has two figures on the south and north sides, perhaps of the greatest antiquity of any now remaining in London. The one, a new stone figure of a Bishop, standeth high on the south side, and hath a long beard, eyes sunk, and an old mortified face, the mitre on his head, but both his hands beat or worn off by time, the other, also of a Bishop, is on the north side, and hath his mitre on, and clothed in his pontificalibus; his left hand with the crosier broken off, the right blessing with the two fore fingers. His face smooth. Both of these are thought to have been Bishops of London, and to have given name to this gate.

Moorgate. Thomas Falconer,mayor, about the year 1415, caused the wall of the city to be broken down near to Coleman-street, and there built a postern now called Moor-gate, upon the side of the great moor or lake that stood here, where was never gate before; in order that the citizens might pass that way upon causeys into the field for their recreation; for the same field was at that time a marsh. These fields, before an unhealthy place, were, in Sir Leonard Halliday's mayorality,