a contribution proportionate to the land he held. As, however, the amount received for prisoners is very various, personal importance had no doubt great weight in the determination of a captive's value. Bertrand du Guescelin who had no property, valued his own ransom at 100,000 livres; and Froissart, at the same period mentions the ransom of a King of Majorca, of the house of Arragon, as being exactly that sum. (To be continued.) THE FATHERLAND* WHAT is the German's Fatherland? His Fatherland's not bounded so, What is the German's Fatherland? His Fatherland's not bounded so. What is the German's Fatherland? His Fatherland's not bounded so. His Fatherland's not bounded so. What is the German's Fatherland? Tell me at length that mighty land, Is it what Gallic fraud of yore, From Kasier† and the empire tore ? Oh no, oh no! His Fatherland's not bounded so. What is the German's Fatherland? Tell me at length that mighty land, 'Tis there where German accents raise, To God in heaven their songs of praise. That shall it be That German is the home for thee. This is the German's Fatherland, PLUNDER OF A SPANISH DILIGENCE. (From the "Quarterly" Review, of " A Year in Spain.' Unpublished.) THE author takes his seat about two in the morning in the cabriolet or front part of a diligence from Tarragona, and gives many amusing particulars concerning his fellow travellers, who, one after another, all surrender themselves to slumber. Thus powerfully invited by the examples of those near him, the lieutenant catches the drowsy infection, and having nestled snugly into his corner, soon loses entirely the realities of existence" in that mysterious state which Providence has provided as a cure for every ill." In short, he is indulged with a dream, which transports him into the midst of his own family circle beyond the Atlantic; but from this comfortable and sentimental nap he is soon aroused by the sudden stopping of the diligence, and a loud clamour all about him. There were voices without, speaking in accents of violence, and whose idiom was not of my country. I roused myself, rubbed my eyes, and directed them out of the windows. By the light of a lantern that blazed from the top of the diligence, I could discover that this part of the road was skirted by olive-trees, and that the mules, having come in contact with some obstacle to their pro gress, had been thrown into confusion, and stood huddled together, as if afraid to move, gazing upon each other, with pricked ears and frightened aspect. A single glance to the right-hand gave a clue to the mystery. Just beside the fore-wheel of the diligence stood a man, dressed in that wild garb of Valencia which I had seen for the first time in Amposta: his red cap, which flaunted far down his back, was in front drawn closely over his forehead; and his striped manta, instead of being rolled round him, hung unembarrassed from one shoulder. Whilst his left leg was thrown forward in preparation, a musket was levelled in his hands, along the barrel of which his eye glared fiercely upon the visage of the conductor. On the other side the scene was somewhat different. Pepe (the postilion) being awake when the interruption took place, was at once sensible of its nature. He had abandoned the reins, and jumped from his seat to the road-side, intending to escape among the trees. Unhappy youth, that he should not have accomplished his purpose! He was met by the muzzle of a musket when he had scarce touched the ground, and a third ruffian appearing at the same moment from the treacherous concealment of the very trees towards which he was flying, he was effectually taken, and brought round into the road, where he was made to stretch himself upon his face, as had already been done with the conductor. I could now distinctly hear one of these robbers-for such they wereinquire in Spanish of the mayoral as to the number of passengers: if any were armed; whether there was any money in the diligence; and then, as a conclusion to the interrogatory, demanding La bolsa! in a more angry tone. The poor fellow meekly obeyed: he raised himself high enough to draw a large leathern purse from an inner pocket, and stretching his hand upward to deliver it, said, Toma usted, caballero, pero no me quita usted la vida! “Take it, cavalier; but do not take away my life!" The robber, however, was pitiless. Bringing a stone from a large heap, collected for the repair of the road, he fell to beating the mayoral upon the head with it. The unhappy man sent forth the most piteous cries for misericordia and piedad. He might as well have asked pity of that stone that smote him, as of the wretch who wielded it. In his agony he invoked Jesu Christo, Santiago Apostol y Martir, La Virgin del Pilar, and all those sacred names held in awful reverence by the people, and the most likely to arrest the rage of his assassin. All in vain the murderer redoubled his blows, until, growing furious in the task, he laid his musket beside him, and worked with both hands upon his victim. The cries for pity which blows at first excited, blows at length quelled. They had gradually increased with the suffering to the most terrible shrieks; then declined into low and inarticulate moans; until a deepdrawn and agonized gasp for breath, and an occasional convulsion, alone remained to show that the vital principle had not yet departed. It fared even worse with Pepe, though, instead of the cries for pity, which had availed the mayoral so little, he uttered nothing but low moans, that died away in the dust beneath him. One might have thought that the extreme youth of the lad would have ensured him compassion; but no such thing. The rob bers were doubtless of Amposta; and, being known to him, dreaded discovery. When both the victims had been rendered insensible, there was a short pause, and a consultation in a low tone between the ruffians, who then proceeded to execute their plans. The first went round to the left side of the diligence, and, having unhooked the iron shoe and placed it under the wheel, as an additional security against escape, opened the door of the interior, and mounted on the steps. I could hear him distinctly utter a terrible threat in Spanish, and demand an ounce of gold from each of the passengers. This was answered by an expostulation from the Valencian shopkeeper, who said that they had not so much money, but what they had would be given willingly. There was then a jingling of purses, some pieces dropping on the floor in the hurry and agitation of the moment. Having remained a short time at the door of the interior, he did not come to the cabriolet, but passed at once to the rotunda. Here he used greater caution, doubtless from having seen the evening before, at Amposta, that it contained no women, but six young students, who were all stout fellows. They were made to come down, one by one, from their strong hold, deliver their money and watches, and then lie flat upon their faces in the road. 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. Fushing 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 mur derous 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 im plement, made to part the bread of peace, performed unwillingly its task of treachery. This moment was the unhap piest 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 visiters, 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 disfi gured 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. We may as well add here the catas trophe of this tragical tale. From information received by the Lieutenant, after his arrival in Madrid, it appears that poor Pepe breathed his last about eight hours after the attack, and long before his widowed mother could arrive to close the eyes of her child. The mayoral lingered for about a week, and then shared the fate of Pepe. The three robbers were detected and taken into custody; two of them were townsmen, and all three acquaintances of Pepe, whom they had doubtless murdered to prevent discovery. We ourselves passed over the scene of the robbery between two and three years after the event; there were two crosses to mark the bloody spot. The mayoral and the zagal of our diligence, the successors of those who had been murdered, pointed to the crosses with the sang froid with which Spaniards, from long habitude, contemplate mementos of the kind. The mayoral showed the very place where his predecessor had been beaten to death. On our expressing horror at the detail he readily concurred, though he appeared more indignant at the manner in which the crime had been committed than at the crime itself. "It is the ugliest thing (lo mas feo) that has been done in this neighbourhood for a long time past. Look you, sir, to shoot a man with a blunderbuss, or to stab him with a knife, is quite another kind of business; but to beat his brains out with a stone is to treat him, not like a Christian, but a dog!" It was evi dent that a frequent occurrence of such scenes had rendered the mayoral a critic in the art of murder. The Topographer. TRAVELLING NOTES IN SOUTH WALES. Gower, Again receive me!-Let me greet Thy breezy hills, and soft retiring dales”------ History of the District of Gower, &c. ' THE peninsula which forms the western extremity of the county of Glamorgan is called Gower, derived from the Welsh Gwyr. The circumference of the district is about fifty miles: a slight reference to the map will explain its peculiar form better than any description we could give. The northern boundary extended east from the river Nedd, or Neath (of course including Swansea) to the Loughor, which runs into the large estuary, called the Burry River, and forms its western boundary, dividing the counties of Glamorgan and Carmarthen. The history of Gower is interesting. It may not be out of place, however, to preface it with an outline of the history of Glamorgan. This county was conquered by the Romans, who had numerous stations in different parts, and also in the district of Gower, the traces of which still exist. Glamorgan is originally supposed to have extended from the river Tawy to Gloucester Bridge, including, besides the present county, the whole of Monmouthshire, and portions of the counties of Brecon, Hereford, and Gloucester. The Welsh princes of Glamorgan commenced paying tribute to the English in the reign of Edgar ;— which was the cause of endless aggressions and disputes between them and the independent princes of North Wales, who claimed this right. The county was made a conquest about the end of the eleventh century, by Sir Robert Fitzhamon (a relation of Henry I.) whose aid had been first called in by one of the petty princes of Glamorgan, in some of the intestine feuds which agitated South Wales. Fitzhamon, after entirely defeating the Welsh, kept Cardiff Castle and the surrounding district in his own possession, and divided the rest of the county amongst twelve Norman knights, his principal followers-between whom and the inhabitants of the hills there long existed a sort of Guerilla warfare. The Normans were almost obliged to confine themselves to their castles in consequence; and the Welsh joined Owen Glendower, when he invaded Glamorgan, for which they afterwards suf fered heavily. It was not till the reign of Henry VIII. that Wales became tranquillized. The population of the county of Glamorgan, in 1821, comprised 101,727 persons. To return to Gower. The first English or Norman conqueror of this lordship was Henry de Newburgh, Earl of Warwick, who, in the reign of Henry I. (1099), progressively defeated and drove out the sons of Caradoc ap Jestyn, the Welsh possessors of Gower; and to secure his conquest, built the castles of Swansea, Loughor, Llanridian, Penrice, &c. He is represented, like most of the feudal barons, as ruling with an iron hand. A few years after this conquest (1108), the peninsula was settled by a colony of Flemings, who had been obliged to emigrate, in consequence of a disastrous encroachment of the sea in the Low Countries. They first landed on the southern coast of England; but, on account of their lawless conduct, Henry I. drove them into South Wales; and they principally fixed themselves in Gower, where they became peaceable subjects; though a great number settled in the peninsula of Castle Martin, in Pembrokeshire, which bears a striking similarity in its natural features to Gower. Afterwards they mixed with the English, preserving their native manners and industry, and involved in disputes with the Welsh resembling the ancient Border warfare in the North. To this day the inhabitants of Gower are distinct from the Welsh, and all speak the English language. We were informed, and it is a remarkable fact, that in the south-western portion of Gower, some of the descendants of the original colonists exist, who do not understand the Welsh language, rarely intermarry with them, and are otherwise distinguished by their dress and peculiar dialect. These people, who have thus successively, for more than seven centuries, preserved almost unmingled the manners of their progenitors, manufacture lace of the same fabric as that of Flanders. In the reign of Henry II. Thomas de Newburgh, son of Henry Earl of Warwick, the conqueror of Gower, parted with the lordship to the crown. King John, in the fourth year of his reign, granted the "whole land of Gower" to one of his favourites, William de Braose, created Lord of Gower, "to be held by the service of one knight's fee;" and it continued in his family till the reign of Edward II. It afterwards passed, by marriage, to Sir Charles Somerset, an ancestor of the Duke of Beaufort, who now is hereditary lord paramount of the liberty of seignory of Gower, and possesses considerable property therein. Gower had distinct privileges, and was separate from Glamorgan till the reign of Henry VIII., when, by act of parliament, it was annexed to that county. 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 standinghowever 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 everyother 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. |