North Wales Gazette

For the North TV ales Gazette, • CYJVYDD ■v f-T ADRODD MODDAU DYN 01 FEBYD IW FEDDo Ni bu yma neb ammarch, Un wedd yw pawb QDd eu parch, Dir yw i bob aderyn, Dysgu anrhydeddu Dyn: Ar ddyn 'e orwedd annof, A ar ei law 'e ddaw'n ddof; Ilhyfedd diweed hlodeuyn, j A rhyfedd yw diwedd Dyn; Dyn bob gronyn a grina, 'Fal y dyn blodeuyn da: Tyfu o goed di ofer, Y bu fal pob afal per: O'r cytthara cyn hir-oes, Ni ddeil yn niwedd ei oes; Nipherugtow-derseren, Nai phryd ond ennyd i Wenn; T)ail ieuaingc hyd wyl leuan, A beru'ti gloi, ar'breun glan IVedi liyniiy, oed heu-nytH, Wywach, grinach bellach byth; A'r un sud er nas edwvn. •Y mesur Do-w, amser Dyn '.IC!I'u a'r hyd yw 'r oes hon, Ai hadeihodd huuoiion; Dai! a dùigwydd bob blwydltyn is ai dwy Dia ai dwyll ydyw oes Dyn Darfu megis ar derfyn, Y dydd, fellii derfydd Dyn t Diabolaeth mcib a welir, 1 barhau fal boreu hir; Diau ir nsab wedi 'r maeth, Yn greuiawn ddwyn gwrolaefh E "Wedi hynuy daw henaint, Ag yn ben gorwedd gan haint; Y na nos a dan Iesu, ;• 1 Einiftes Dyn yn nos du Tri modd pan da'r ymweddyn, Itudol fal dis yw hoedl Dyn "Yo eu dadl, echdoe'n d'wedyd, Ddoe'n fyw iach, heddyw'a Cud; lEoreuol braw iw elyn, Dim ar y ddaear yw Dye Breuach na barr o ewyn, Yn ei 'sfad, y w einioes Dyn Daw biau nodi bywyd, Daw na betli a dyb y Byd ? Pobcadarnafarnhydfedd, A wnae Dduw'n want) ei ddiwedd; Can rai wrth ganu yr oedd, x mryson am yr oesoodd Tin ai heirch megis Noe lien, I oed Eryra de-rwen t Ir Lie,.v y ilail!, 1 g-eirw teyg eraill; N1 thchygwn hwn i Hydd, Nag i adar neu goedydd: Dilai genuyf ei dyfiad, Dwyn oed hir, a dawn y Tads 4 Cwyno yr wyf rhag henaint, Cwyn hir gan ddryg hin a hallrt Cwynoativvyd eyij einyd, Colics oil y gwres a'r gwryd Gwden anwydog ydwyf, Gwedi nerth gwywa dynwy f; Tra fu'lll mi mewn tyrfa mawr, Was ieuangc. ynfyd son fawr; Ebrwydii chydrwydd hoywdrum, A chryf iawn y chwareu fu'm } (C. Dt eiddil a da oeddwn, A --hry r a gorwylit a chrwo s, A hefyd esgyd ysgawn, I ben yr,alit btian 'r awn "Trin y bel, a phob helynt, A rhedeg fal gwaneg gvrynt; Heddyw os i Riw yr af, O arfeddyd hwyr feddaf; v Lie bo 'r gamfa fyrra fach Llymsi fyddaf yn liamsach Ni chredir nychu 'r ydwyf, Y rhodiai rawy rhydrwm wyfj Un l!un yw hun a henatnf, Yn fill gan ofal a haint; Esgeiriaa yn ysgyrion, Y sydd ym ffydd yn ddwy ffonn Ysgvvyddau anosgeddig, ( A chorpit heb na Iliw na chig A glaiu fy nghefn a drefnwyd, Fal cyrrau craig neu gore rhwyd; Rhyfedd yw 'r ais iw rhifo, Fat cronglwyd lie tynnwyd to'; A'r breicliiau fal ffustiau ffynn, A gwayw sy'm mhob gewyn Anaf llesg ya goresgyn, A'r blew a'r gwallt yn blu gWynn A'i dannedd o sal-wedd son, Afluniaidd yn felyniou; E'r goIwg ddi-wg ddeall, Tru.,in o ddyn, yn troi'ti ddall; "4B Gwreinaint caf waith ymgrafu, Sy haint. gyda henaint du 5 Crynnedig i'm croen ydwyf, Crynniad deilen Aethctm wyf; Gwr oerach nag Eryri, A Berwyn wyf, i'm barn I Ni thynn na chlydwr na than, Na dillad f'anwyd allan Troi a sefyll tra safwyf, Dan grafangau 'r angau 'r wyf; Rhoed Daw i'm bwyll, rhaid im bellacli Ryngu bodd yr angau bach. leuan Brechfa. 1500.

THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. It is a circumstance not generally known, but at the present moment worthy of peculiar remark, that the first entry into active service. 1 i)f the illust,-ious person whose na/ne is pre fixed to this article, was in the early part of the year 1794, with the expedition under the Earl of Moira, which was intended in aid of the loyalists in Britanny. It is well known that the destination of this expedition was di Yerted to the Netherlands, in consequence of the unfortunate issue of the early part of the campaign in that quarter. 7 Tournay had fallen before the arrival of Lord Moira's army (about 10,000 men) at Ostend. Circumstances induced his Lordship to atiefnpt a junction with the Duke of York; in the course of which his arniv, fatigued and exposed to a most inclement seasop, were at- tacked hv the French, On this march Lieut, Colonel Weiiesiey was of the greatest utility in the command of a covering party iti the rear. On the 8th July, Lord Moira joined the Duke of York. During the attack of Boxtell by Gen. Abercrombie. a regiment of dragoons {by some accident) threw the 1st regt. of in fitilry i!o confusion. Of this the enemy's squadrons instantly availed themselves, ad- Yancing in full force, when the gallunt WeJ- lesley,jwho had his regiment (the 33d) formed "in the rear, caused them to open, and permit the enemy's dragoons to pass through, when instantly wheeling into line, by order, they cooliv threw in a few well-directed vollies, whicii compelled the enemy to a precipitate retreat, and enabled General Abercrombie to pursue his retrc.at unmolested. During the ■whole ol the arduous and calamitous retreat of the British army from IHratkrs, lieul. Col. Wellesley, at the head of three battalions, had covered all the movements. The object of this short sketch is to hold out (although almost unnecessary) to the panting heart of the British soldier, aspiring to honor and fame, the Hon. Arthur Wellesley, a Lieu- tenant Colonel, participating the glory, and sharing the hardships and privations of his re- giment in Flanders, in the years 1794 and 1795 and, in the year 1815, see him raised to the highest civil and military ranks in the gift of his Sovereign, and in possession of the full confidence of all the legitimate Sovereigns of Europe, about to wield a baton and a sword on the same scene, in defence of the just rights of people aud of Sovereigns. e..

S THE TWO FARMERS, OR BAD TIMES. Blunt.-VelI, Master Murraur, you find I have contrived to hobble over, since you were so obliging as to invite me. It is along time since you and I had a bit of confab together; and to tell you the truth, I hardly know the house. You have new modelled it with a ven- geance, inside as well as outside, I see. Jilurmur.-— Ave. it looks a liirht neat thinsr enough now. II was a sad rubbishing place before. A little taste does wonders. But, sit down, my good friend, and we'll crack a hot- tie together. I am sure you must be tired five miles are a pretty long stretch for a man of your standing. Blunt.-Wiiy, so they are-but adso I let us go into the kitchen. My dirty feet will spoil this fine carpet. Murmur.-Never mind, it was made to be traimpled upon. What's the good of having handsome things, if one is afraid to make use of them ? bI Blunt.-Wily, I'll tell you what, Master Murmur, I can't imagine that such costly and unnecessary articles as these were ever de. signed for the dirty hob-nailed shoes of a far- mer to he wiped upon; so i never had such a thing in my life. Murmur.—Well, never mind the carl)et.- Come, taste a glass of this excellent liort-it will do your heart good. Bitint.-L(trd love you now, why did you put yourself to such an expense upon my ac- count ? I'm sure I prefer a jug of your nice brisk ale. Murmur.-To be honest with you, Blunt, though I should not think any thing too good for an old friend, the wine was not prov Ided on your account. We drink it every day. Mrs. Murmur always likes to have a bottle open, in case any body should drop in for it is so vulgar now to offer any visitor ate, or home-made wine; besides it looks stingy. L(lunt.-Poi-t wine is an excelleul medicine in some cases, and to my taste not more pala- table than many others, but use may recon ciie one to the taste of it; yet I don't think it apt to agree with the pocket, ch, Master Murmur ? ,Iliirmur.It is shamefully dear, sure enough, but what is not ? Times have bçen bad enough lately, yell fear they will not be meadt'd by this plaguy peace. Farmers will smatt for it. Blunt.—Some will, I dare say;, but it seems YOIt ha ve no reason to complain. You have made hay while the sun shone—you understand me ) Murmur.-Why, I did as well as I could, all thiugs considered. What with rent and taxes, tithes and various other expences.amaa need to have a pretty high price for the pro- dace of his farm to make it answer. Ah, neighbour Blunt, something must be wrong I somewhere. A reform is highly necessary I see. Blunt.-I'm of your opinion. Murmur.—And then, you know, I have had a large family to bring up, and that's no trifling expense, I'm sure Blunt.-Wiiy now, do you know, I'm of opinion that to men in our way of life, a large family is rather an advantage than a bin dranca. For my part, I've found it so. A man without children has nothing to strive for so he seidom takes any care. Now I have six children-you only four—and I find my boys and girls of great use in lightening my labour, and attending to household concerns while both my dame and I are more vigilant and carefui that we may, in turn, dp our duly by them. Murmur.—It may be so but I confess I have found it quite the reverse. The educa tion of my two boys and two girls has not cost me less than four hundred pounds per annum for these three years past; and now that they have all done with school, I find them prettv expensive. Blunt.-Fo,tir hundred pounds a year! You maste me stare. Why,, you must hav^ been shockingly imposed upon. I Mille have cost me only sixpence a week round, besides a com- pliment at Christmas; aud my Jane can make a sbirl as neat as e'er a sempstress in thecouu try; and Sukey has worked a sampler, and knitted me four pair of stockings, although she's only eight years old. Then there's Tom, lie can write as good a hand as need to lie- and as to the Bible, it would be a comfort to you to hear him read it. My dame and I bless ourselves sometimes to hear hoW glibly lie runs on with the hard names, which we could never make head nor tail of: and I war- rant you now, Jem keeps all the accounts, which mistress used to be obliged to trust to her head for, with now and then the help of some knots in her apron string. Aye, aye, neighbour, your dame and mine used to work sums pretty much in the same way I believe, and )ct they seldom made mistakes, I fancy. Murmur,—It was.a sad pity though, Blunt, that farmers did not give their children better education and as I have seen the fault, de- termined to mend it. My girls and boys shaH have 110 cause to complain of me. I've given them all complete genteel learning, aud a pretty penny it "bag cost out and out. Blunt.-Why what the deuce, have they been learning, then ? .Jl,u rni u r. They have learnt-Zooks, I can hardly tell you what they have not learnt. First there's English, and French, and music, and painting, and dancing, and drawing, fancy works, and geography, and straw work, and shell work- > Blunt.—Whoo! and pray which of them manages the dairy, and tends the poultry, and makes the pies and puddings, and bakes, and brews, and irons, and mends the lined ? Your dame cannot do all. Murmur.—No indeed. She was, you know, once as bustling a woman as ever lived but somehow since she went to stay a few weeks in London, with a relation of ours, who is pretty well off, she has never had her health. I She complains of spasms, and vertigoes, and other disorders, which prevent her from doing as she used and we are obliged to keep more servants, that's all. For my part, I don't un derstand her complaints, nor the doctor nei- ther, I faticy but I am sllrehev must he main bad to keep her in bed till eight o'clock, and then prevent her getting about as she used to do. Blunt.—Aye, they are sad complaints, sure i enough; and what's worse, they are apt to be catching. I should not wonder if your daugh- ters had them next. i M/m/mr.-—Bless your heart they have and there's Eliza, who is very fond of reading hooks from the library, she sometimes falls a crying, and then again a laughing, then cry- ing again till I am quite frightened, and tell her it is all along of sitting still, but she says it is ouly owing to, her being nervous and steri- cal. Blunt.—Hum—and what has your sons learnt ? Murmur.-—Oh, they have learnt arithmetic in course, and mathematics, and geometry, and Latin; and the classics. You see I have been getting all the crackjaw words by ficirt but it was a plaguy long time before they could beat them into my head. B"iittt.-I think so, and what the dickens is the classics ? Murmur.—Hang me if I can make that out yet; but my young ones tell rne every body understands it now a days better than the Bi- ble; and that in Loudon every thing is classi- cal, 4 en the chairs aiiti tibles, and cups and saucers, hut that must be -.ill nonsense you know. The hoys ate certainty vastiy clever though for they can make speeches half an hour to rig aij iti Latin, not that I can tell who ther it is right or wr;>ng, but it seems as if it was right because ;hey look so confident about: Blunt.—And so yoir boys are to speak La- tin to the horses aud cows, and pigs, I sup- pose ? Probably t-hey will understand it as well as JOU. Alai -mur.- kii I Biuot, you stilllovea joke I fitid but really nov it woultl astonish you to hear Walter hold forth a little. What with his logic, and what nith his classics, he bothers me completely, not but I think he does draw the long bow now ar,d then. Why, as sure as you stand there, he wanted tu persuade me that a fellow once carried the whole world upon his shoulders; and then he talks of the laurels in our garden being once beautiful tir. gins; that a uarcisius, which Eliza gathered 4 the other day, was Jovely youth, whu pined away because he admired his own face in the water! Blunt. — Ha! ha! That was selling you a ha'p'orth indeed. But now do tell tnu what that square thing and that round thing stand- iii, a top of t 'is ? I ha S Why, that square thing as you call it is my daughters' pinny, a, 1,r I S c) 1, e () f and that round thing is one of Eliza's globes. If JOo look close, you will sco it covered all over with figures 01 beasts and birds and fishes, which she tells txe tire iu the sky, and that I could see them if I looked through a gla" However I tried once, but could make none of 'em out; so I asked her if that was classical too, but she only laughed a( me, and turning up her pretty little (lose, slid Dear, papa, how ignorant you are 1" So between you and me, I'm plagnil}' afraid that these same classics are nothing but a pack of genteel lies, or what the Londoners call a hoax. Blunt.-It seems so indeed. I've heard enough to day to last me a twelvemonth. I'm glad none of my children are so learned so good day, Master Murmur, good day. Murmur.—Stop a minute, my good friend. I've something particular to say to you; I hardly knoy how to bring it out 1 own, but the truth is I am pretty hard run just now, aud want to beg the favourof you just to give iyie a lift. I've kept hack my corn from mar- ket ever since last harvest, thinking it would rise. but it gets lower and lower. Perhaps if I could bold out a little longer, I might g«t my price, but if things go on in the way they do now, I shall be ruined. If you could lend me fifty pounds for the prescut necessitv I should be obliged to you. Bllln -Ha I ha! A good joke! Butcorne, none of your classics for iiie-no hoaxing I Murmur.I:m serious, upon my soul, in- deed it's no laughing matter for me. Blunt.—Why,'sure you arc not in earnest? I You must have laid by two or three thousand pounds. Think what a price corn hasfetched for (lie last ten years. Murmur.—Two or three thousand pounds indeed? Not so many farthings am I worth. Remember the expenses I toid yon of. Look at my house and furniture. Why. odds life. man I'm over head and ears in debt; and if things don't take a different turn, (I mean if there is not a reform somewhere,) I, and a good many mpre faritict-s that I know, may chance to visit the county jail. Blunt.—Why, then, Master Murmur, let me 1 tell you that the reform, you cry out so loudly for, should be made in your own families.— You are a pretty set to grumble at taxes and tithes, while you squander away your earnings in such absurdities. But no matter. I once knew you and your dame an honest hard- working couple. Iany is the snug pipe we have smoked in the great chimney coiner, seated on the old settle. You had then no stuffed chairs nor polished stoves; and let me ask you if vou are a bit happier than you were then? Murmur.—Why I can't say that I am, but times are altered. One must do as other folks do. Blunt.—Aye, there's the mischief. One fool makes many. One rogue corrupts ten, who y I., would be honest men, but no matter. The remembrance of what you were, still makes me feel a sort of friendship for you—so there's the money; thank God I 1 can spare it if you never repay me; for I have not been gq un- mindful of the real interests of my family as to indulge them in unnecessary extravagance, and not lay by a trifle for a rainy day, or a friend in distress. Times, though you may call them bad, were never so good for farmers as tlrey have been lately; but when did far. mers live away as they do now! Your owe sense must shew you that you have been doing wrong, if not, sad experience will, I fear, con- vince you of if, aud still worse the mischief has spread loo wide to be repaired now. Should you fall into distress, your children have been too genteelly educated to put their shoulders to the wheel, and help you out of it or to bear a change with humility and patience.— Well, well, i must jog home. 1 think 1 may now bless my stars that none of my boys or girls knew any thing about the classics.

OLD BAILEY, MAY 12. MURDER. Wm Sawyer who, at an especial Sessions held in April, was found guilty of the wilful mur- der of Harriet Gaskell, at Lisbon, in the king- dom of Portugal, but whose judgment was respited on three points, urged by his Counsel, against the validity of his conviction, was next put to the bar, to hear the opinion of the Judges on the points reserved. Mr. Justice Le Blanc, after having staled the conviction of the prisoner, proceeded to observe, that his Counsel had taken three ob- jections, in arrest of judgment. The first was, that the Courts of this realm had no power to try offences committed in another country, beyond the King's dominions, and subject to a foreign Power. The second—that, ou the face of the indictment, it was not clearly and explicitly stated, that the Prisoner and the de- ceasedwen& British subjects. And, the third —that the offence was not regularly laid in the a c I indictment, agreeable tolhe legal mode appli- cable to the case, as "contrary to the Sta. iute,"&c. As to the first objection, which, the Learned Judge observed, was founded on the 33d of Henry the Eighth they were not inei-ely to look to the words, but were also to apply themselves lo the construction of the statute. Although, by that statute, the of- fender wasdireded to be tried by a Jury, in the place where the offence was committed, yet it aisf) cotitaitied provisions, by which, if information were given, or confession made of a murder (the parties being subjects of this kingdom), committed either within or without this realm, it would be lawful for any of it is Majesty's CoulIsello bring the offender to jus- lice-and he might be tried, at a Commission held under the Great Seal, in whatever shire or place, either within or without the realm, the King might think proper to api)(oitit.- (In-confirmation of this statement, the Learned Judge read an extract from the statute.) The words o't the Act were sufficiently clear and explicit to permit, iu the fullest sense, the construction since put on them. In three ill-stalices ilif- statute had been acted on, for the trial of murders committed out of his Ma- jesty's territories. The first case was that of a man named Chambers, who was convicted of a murder, committed at Barcelona, in the kingdom of Spain, in 1709; the next was the case of Ealing, who in 1720, was foudd guilty of a murder perpelraied in Sweden; and, lastly, the case of Captain Hoehe, who was convicted of the murder of one Ferguson, at the Cape of Goo,d Hope, in the year 1775. In all these cases the statute of Henry Vilt. had been acted on, and the judgment of the law had taken its regular and proper cUnrse. —These were all cases, where the alleged of. fence had beeu com milled out of the douoi nions of his Britannic Majesty, and, conse- quently, under the government of a foreign power, As to the second objection, with re- gard to ificiiirt;cii)ot being properly described as Britisii subjects, the construction was here also to be looked to, as Weil as the wor-ds.- The stattiie* ex,,)rcssly used the words, if any person or persons." —But, independentof this, sufficient appeared on the face of llie indict- ment, to shew, thai the person who commillcd iliv murder in question, was a subject of our Sovereign Lord, the King, and that tlje per- son murdered was, at the time, in the peace of the King. Besides, it ought to have been shewn, in the defence of the party accused, that he was not a subject of our Lord the King. With respect to the third objection, alleging ,an informality in the concluding part of the indictment; this he looked upon as the least important point that was urged in arrest of judgment. The fact was completely brought home to the party accused, and that fact was evidently against the statute The Learned Judge then stated, that after tliit fu I lest. coiiqi- deration had been given to the case, and the most elaborate arguments heard in support of the objections, the Jndges were unanimously of opinioti, that there was no just ground for an arrest of judgment. The law, as quoted, had hitherto been fully estatilished-ittidee it the conviction, which the Judges considered I a t.r,ood one, had taken place-and that law, so plainly and so fully laid down, could not now be disturbed. The Clerk of the Arraigns then asked the Prisoner, in the usual form, whether he had any thing to say, why sentence of death should not be passed on him ? The Prisoner made no answer. The Recorder then proceeded to perform the painful duty of passing sentence on the prison- er, whom he shortly addressed. After a most anxious consideration of the case-after a full investigation of all its circumstances—after a patient examination of all that had been urged in defence or extenuation of the crime imputed to the prisoner—an uninfluenced Jury, bound only by a sense of their duty, and acting in conformity with the oath they had taken -felt themselves under the painful necessity of con. victing the prisoner of a wilful and horrid mur- der—committed on an unoffending, though un- fortunate woman—committed on that woman with whom the prisoner was intimately ac- quainted, and towards whom he had professed sentiments of the warmest regard.—(Tbepri- goner here seemed lo be much agitated—he put his handkerchief to his face, and appeared to be overpowered with grief.)-lf. continued the Recorder, no particular attachment had exist- ed betwrot) ilic prisoner and the deceased, still the ordinary feelings of human nature ought to have told him to stand forward as her pro lector, and not to assail her, as her murderer. It was no extenuation whatever of his crime, to say, that the deceased consented I.) its per- petration It was no excuse for this foul deed to declare, that jealous feelings and unbridled passions hurried the prisoner on to itscommis. siou. Nor was it, in the eye ot justice, any ar- gument in favour of the prisoner, to say, that he felt no previous malice against the deceased. Where a deliberate iutent to murder appeared, anil where a life was, in conse-qtieiite, away, the law considered no other circum- stances. By depriving an individual ofexistenee the prisoner had broken the bonds of civil so- ciety, and had grievously violated the laws of God, and of man. The former expressly said, Whoso sheddeth man's blood, by man shall his blood be shed." And, as the human law. with regard to this offence, was founded on the divine law, it was the duty of the Court to award to the prisoner, as an expiation of the crime uf which he had been found guilty, that punishment which the attrocity of his offence demanded. It now only remained for him to pass on the prisoner the sentence which the law had provided for the perpetrators of this worst of crimes. The gates of mercy were shut against the prisoner in this world, and he im- plored and entreated him to make his peace with that God, before whom he must shortly appear. He then sentenced him, in the cus- tomary form, to be hanged on Monday next, and his body to be given to the surgeons, to be dissected and anatomised. b The Prisoner, after receiving sentence re- mained in a sort of stupor, for a short time.— He then, in a very faint voice, requested one of the officers who was near the dock, to slate to the Court, that he prayed them to recommend him to the royal clemency. He was thea re- moved from the bar.

COPPER ORE Sold at REDRUTH, on Thursday, May 4. Mines. Tons. Purchasers. -It per Ton, Dolcoath 140 Crown Co. £ 18 6 ditto 130 Mines Royal & British 8 7 6 ditto 105 British Co. 9 14 6 ditto 94 Crown Co. 13 1 6 ditto 89 Cornish Co. 3 10 0 ditto 88 Birmingham Co. 8 2 6 ditto 78 Cornish Co. 7 8 6 ditto 76 ditto 10 15 6 Wh.Abraham!36 Rose Co. 7 1 0 ditto 104 Daniell and Co. 210 ditto Brass Wire Co. 3 12 0 ditto 87 Rose Co. 5 14 0 ditto 86 ditto 4 8 3 Oatfield 90 Crown Co. 6 13 0 Treuoweth 159 Daniell and Co. 3 I) 0 Wheal Fanny 67 Cornish Co. 8 9 & ditto 67 Brfish Co. 8 0 0 Wh. Bassett 122 Freeman and Co. 9 2 6 Tin Croft 104 British Co. 4 6 0 Camb. Vean 73 Birmingham Co. 9 IS Cook's Kitch. 63 Crown Co. 5 5 6 Druid l8 Mines Royal 10 19 6 Total 2075 tons-average standard 1171. Copper Ore sold at Swansea, May 10, 1815. Llandidno 53 Brass Wire Co. 14 10 6 ditto 33 English Co. 16 8 0 ditto 44 ditto 23 11 6 ditto 57 Brass Wire Co. 17 10 0 ditto 24 Freeman and Co. 12 14 0 ditto S Brass Wire Co. 12 0 0 nittO j 46 ditto 14 0 0