North Wales Gazette

I\ MEMORY Gb' TIl r: I\:rI: REVEREND E. WILLIAMS, Cardiganshire. ¡, A P-CPIL. (,nr fii(,ial RT Did with thy lilY name and melll'ry end A: id has t itsrk'aess of the tomb set free On heart's affection, and our love for thee? ]\*0 t —gen'rons father no !—we stul can trace The beams of frieadsh p playing on thy face, ARd view those eyes, whose vivid lustre glow'd, To mark that there intelligence abode The tear that rci"d hi silence o'er thy cheek, Thy admonitions, arid ihy precepts meek Each tale rehear'a our bosoms to inspire, And wake to noble deeds our young desire, We still remember, while affection binds O-ir souls to thee, and sorrow ftlls-our minds. To thee, fair Science op'd her ample store, Yils-and to thee for kindness look'd the poor. T!>at mighty mind on eagle wings that soar d, The darkest paths of learning that explor'd, Wis s:1il attentive to the orphan's cry, The peasant's mournful tale-the widow's sigh. Thine was the humour which bade sadness smile, And thine the christian heart that know no guile! Like God's true shepherd, thy incessant aim IVas-the poor wandering sinner to reclaim- To preach Christ crucified—disarm all strife, And feed the hungry with the bread of life. If here thou trod'st affliction's-gloomy way, If cares and sorrows mark'd thy cloudy day, Now thy blest spirit rests in that domain, Where death is nam'd not—and where pleasures reign. Adieu, kind master—best of friends, adieu, God will again our intercourse-renew, Where, no more sever'd fiom thy fond embrace, "Ye'U praise th' eternal God-the God of grace. D.E. During the etst winter, Mr. BUtks and his wife, with an infant child, of Salem (New York), set ont on a visit to Vermont, passing over the Green Mountains, in crossing which the snow was jomul to be deep and pathless. Uaviag rode till nearly perished with cold, they attempted to exercise themselves mith Icalking, Mr. R hastened on a- head, in order to reach some dwelling where he could procure assistance: he soon became ex- hausted, and sunk down in a perishing condi- tion, bid he afterwards recovered. JUrs. B. in the course of the night froze to death, lea ring her tender offspring wrapped up in her cloak, in which situation it wns fOHnd alive.- The follow- ialfrIi)ti-.s, froiii the if;,gz(s, i(-ci-e ten on thn aeetivimi The cold winds 3wept (he mountain height, And pathless was the dreary wild, And 'mid the cheerless hours of night, A mother wander'd with her child. And through the (triftitig- snow she press'd, The babe was sleeping on her breast. And colder still the winds did blow, And darker hours of night came on, And deeper grew the drifts of snow— Her limbs were chill'd, her strength was gone. O God she cried, in accents wild, If I must perish—save my child She stripp'd her mantle from her breast, And bar'd her bosom to the storm, And round the child she wrapt the vest. And smil'd to think the babe was warm. With one cold kiss, one tear she shed, And sunk upon a snowy bed. At dawn, a traveller passed by, And saw her 'neath a snowy veil; The frost of death was in her eye, Her cheek was cold, and hard, and pale. He mov'd the robe from off the chiJd- The babe look'd up, and sweetly smii'd For the North Wales Gazette. ÛH, ever skill'd to wear the form we love To bid the shapes of fear and grief depart, Come, gentle Hope with one gay smile remove The lasting sadness of an aching heart. Thy voice, benign Enchantress let me hear, Say that for me some pleasures yet shall blooni That Fancy's radiance, Friendship's precious teeLf, Shall soften or shall chase misfortune's gloom. But come not, glowing in the dazzling ray. Which once, with dear illusions,, chann'd my eye! Oh, shew no more, sweet Flatterer on my way The flowers I fondly thought too tight to die. Visions, less fair, will soothe my pensive breast That asks not happiness, but longs for rest. INFORTUNUS.

A MOTHER'S LOVE. HKP., by her smile, how soon the stranger knows. How soon, by his, the glad discovery shows, As to her lips she lifts the lovely boy What answering looks of sympathy and joy He walks, he speaks in many a broken word ti-e His wants, his wishes, and his griefs are heard And ever, ever to her lap he tries. When rosy sleep ccmes on with soft surprise, Loch'd hi her anas, his anus across her flung, (That name most dear for ever en her tongue.) As With soft accents round her neck he clings, A,nd cheek to cheek her lulling song she sings, flow blessYi to feel the beatings of his in-art, P.-rathe Ids sweet breath, and Lisa for ki.,s im- part Wat'^h o'e. his slmnbers like th brooding do\e, And, if -h" ca;i- i),JL' a ia ¡ji:r hn e J

) ST. VALENTINES DA Y. Now Andrew, Anthony, and William, For Valentine draw Prue, Kate, Julian." Poor Robin's Almanack for 1676. THE rural tradition that birds choosing their mates on this day gave rise to the custom of drawing Valentines, has been a favorite idea with our poets from Chaucer to the present time. That ancient Bard supposes nature thus to ad- dress the feathered choir on the Fourteenth of February Ye know weti, how on St. Valentine's day, By my statute and through my governance. Ye doe chase your mates, and aLer flie away With hemas I pricke you with pleasaunce. Shakespeare, also, alludes to the same notion in liia Midsummer Night's Dream. The cere- mony of thi,; day, however, has been attributed to various sources, besides the tradition men- tioned. The legend itself of St. Valentine, a Presbyter of the church, who was beheaded un- der the Emperor Claudius, contains nothing which could give origin to the custom notwith- standing the inference drawn by Wheatley in his Illustration of the Common Prayer, that from the great love and charity of that Saint, the custom of choosing Valentines upon his festival (which is still practised) took its rise." For were not all Saints famous for their love and charitv ?- And surely the writer does not mean that we should understand the word love, as implying gallantry. Another opinion, that because ghosts were formerly thought to walk 011 the night of this day, or about this time, that gallantry had, at the Reformation, taken up an idea which super- stition had been compelled to drop, is equally unsatisfactorv; since we have unquestionable authority from the Paston Correspondence that the custom of choosing "V alenlines was common in the reign of Edward IV. Margaret Brew, in a letter printed in Sir John Fenns collection of these carious documents, dated February, l addresses it to her Right well-beloved Valen- tine John Paston, Esq." The letter itself con- tains the genuine dictates of the heart of a young lady deeply in love, and apprehensive that her father will'not give her such a fortune on her marriage as the gentleman who paid his ad- dresses^ to her expected, she therefore fears the continuance of his affection, but assures him of her's:- t. f Ryght reverende and worschipful, and my right well-beloved Valuntyne, I recomainde me unto you full herely, desyring to hear of your welfare, which I beseche ALMYGHTY GOD long for to preserve unto hys plesur, and your herts desvr." The style of the whole, though obsolete, is extremely tender, and could not be easily ex- ceeded by a Valentine of the present day. She tells him, if it pleases to here of her welfare, she is not in good hellh of body, nor herte, nor shall be tyll she hears from hym." And finishes by desyring him to destroy her letter when he has read it, as she would on no account have any one to know she had written to him. Lydgate, the monk of Bury, in some compli- mentary verses on Catherine, Queen of Henry V.says— Seynt Valentine ofcustame yeere by yeere, Men have on usance in this regioun To loke and serche Cupid's kalendere. And chose theyr choyse by grete affection. Wharton also, in his History of English Poetry, has given us a specimen of a CUlious French a- lentine, composed by Gower the- contemporary of Chaucer. Charles Duke of Orieans, father of T^uuis ?vil. when a prisoner m com- posed some verses in honour of this festival, and other allusions are made to it by early writers, sufficient to prove the origin of the custom o be long anterior to the period stated. Some have asserted this to be an observance peculiar to Carnival time, which occurred an- ciently at this season of the year, when it was usual for vast numbers of Knights to visit the Courts of Europe, where they entertainedthe ladies with pageantry and tournaments. Eich lady, at these magnificent feats, selected, we ire told/ a Knight who engaged to serve her for the whole year, and to perform whatever she chose tc command. One of the never-failing conse- quences of the engagement was an injunction b employ his muse in the celebration of his mis- tress and hence the custom of writing and send- ing verses and love-letters on this day. Menage, in his Etymological Dictionary, has accounted for the term Valentine, by stating that Madame Royale, daughter of -,Kin., Henry IV. of France, having built a palace near Turin— which, in honour of the Saint, then in high es- teem, she called the Valentine-at the first enter- tainment which she gave in it, was pleased to order that the ladies should receive their lovers for the year by lots, reserving to herself the pri- vilege of being independent of chance, and of choosing her own partner. At the various balls which this gallant Princess gave during the year, it was directed that each lady should re- ceive a nosegay from her lover, and that, at every tournament, the Knight's trappings for his horse should be furnished by his allotted mis- tress, with this proviso, that the prize obtained should he her's, This custom, says Menage, occasioned the parties to be called Valentines. A writer of the early part of the seventeenth century tells us, that at this festival, the men used to make the women presents, as, upon an- other occasion, the women used to do to the men but that presents were to that day made reci- procally in Scotland. To which Pennant, in his tour to that country, adds, that in February young persons draw Valentines, and from thence collect their future fortunes in the nuptial state. In the British Apollo (1708) we read- Why Valentines, a day to choose A mistress and our freedom lose ? May I my reason interpose, The question with an answer close ?— To imitate we have a mind, And couple like the winged kind. And in the same work vol. ii. (1709) is this fur- ther illustration of the st[b,it-et-- Quest.-In choosing Valentines (according to custom) is not the party choosing (be it man or woman) to make a present to the party chosen? Answ.—We think it more proper to say draw- ing Valentines, since the most customary way is for each to take his or her lot and chance can- not be teimed choice. According to this method, the obligations are equal, and therefore it was f rmnr1.y the c'istom mutually to present but ¡ now it is customary only for the gentleman." Grose explains Valentine to mean the first seen by a man, or man seen by a woman, on S. Valentine's Day, the 14-th of February. Perhaps Mr. Douce's cdnjecture in his lllus- tratious of Shakspeare, that the custom of Valen- tines is a rilict of paganism, is the most proba- ble. It was the practice of ancient Rome," observes th-it gentleman, during a great part of the of to celebrate the Lu- percalia. which were feasts in honour of Pun and Juno, whence the hitter deity was named Fez brnata, Fehrualis, and Februclla. On this oc- casion, amidst a vatiety of ceremonies, the names of every young woman were put into a box, from whliich they were drawn by the men as' eha->ee diieeted.—The pastors of the early Church, who. by every possible means, exidea1 oured to eradicate the vestiges or Pasran superstinons. arid clsieiiV £ >y some coini>.sut..tion of thtdr terms, substituied, ui the present in stance, the n .mes of particular saints, instead of those of the woman and, as the festival of the Lupercalia commenced about the middle of Fe- bruary, thev appear to have chosen 'l f tine's "day for celebrating the new feast, because it occurred nearly at the same time. This is in part Butler's opinion in his Lives oj the Stliiits.- It should seem, however, that it was utterly im- possibly to exiiipate altogether any ceremony to which the common people had been much accus- tomed a fact which it were easy to prove in tracing the origin of various other popular su- perstitions and accordingly, the outline of the ancient ceremonies was preserved, but modified by some adaptation to the Christian system.- It is reasonable to suppose that the above prac- tice of choosing mates would gradually become reciprocal if. the sexes and that all persons so chosen, would be called Valcntincs, horn the day on which the ceremony took [dace. The modes of the Valentine for the year were nearly the same fonneily aa at present; they consisted either in drawing lots on Valentine's Eve, or in considering the person whom you met early ii) the following morning as the destined object. In the former case, th names of a certain number of the fair sex v. ere, by an equal number of the other, put :to a vase, which, for the time, tt termed their Va- lentine, as was considered the predictive ol their future fortune in maniage in the second, there was usually some little contrivance adopted, in order that the favoured object, when such exist- ed, might be first seen. To this custom Shaks- peare refers, when he represents Ophelia, in her distraction, singing- Good morrow, 'tis Saint Valentine's day, All in the morning betime, And 1 a maid at your window, To be your Valrntine. In the Connoisseur we find a curious species of divination, as practised on Valentine's Day, or E ve which some of our fair youthful readers may not be displeased to be acquainted with: it is supposed to be a communication from a young hdy to the author:- Last Friday was Valentine's day, and the night before I got five bay leaves, and pinned lour of them to the four corners of my pillows, and the fifth-to the middle and then, if I dream- ed of my sweetheart, Betty said we should be married before the year was out. But to make it more sure, I boiled an egg hard, and took out the yolk and filled it with salt; and when I went*to bed, ate it, shell and and all, without speaking or drinking after it. We also wrote our lovers names upon bits of paper, and rolled them up in clay, and put them into water, and the first that rose up was to b our Valentine-would you think it Mr. Blossom was my mail 1-1 lay a-bed, and shut my eyes all the morning, till he came to our house, for I would not have seen any other man before him for all the world." The practice of sitting cross-legged, and send- ing presents to fit chosen, has been con- tinued to iiioderl ('s and we may add a trait, not now obsePiKI, perhaps, on the autho- rity of an old English ballad, in which the las- ses are directed to pray cross-legged to St. Va- lentine for good luck.

HUNTS CONFESSION. [CONCLUDED.] A FT R. ft dinner Probert said. Have you got every thing you want, Jack "No," answer- ed John Thurte',1, we must send Joe for a six- bvshel sack, a hank of cord, and the horse and chaise." Probert said, We must have some Plinell, Jack, before you start, and we must or- d: r it directly because it will not do for you to keep him in waiting." It was agreed that J. Thvrt'dl was to start first, and Probert aiul I were to follow him in about three quarters of an hour. I wished to stop and take some punch but Probert told me I had better be off, and get the things for Jack and as we were to remain for three quarters of an hour, wecouhlhave some punch tagether after he was gone- Resides these things, I wes sent by Thomas Thuitell to get a box coat belonging to him, which was at Mr. Cribb's, in Panton-street; and also wiih a note to the man who was in possession at the Cock, for a coat and red shawl of John Thnr- tell's, which were left in his room. This ml shawl was the same which John Thurtell had round his head when lie intended to destroy Woods, in Manchester-buildings, aiul wtiicli was afterwards found round the neck of Mr. Weare. I went to Probat's, the stable-keeper, to hire a horse and chaise—they had no chaise, but they lent me a horse, and I got a chaise at fl-Jr. Cross's. It had been previously arranged that 1 should say I was going to Dartford, and I did so. I then went to Buckingham's, in Broad-street, and there bought a sack and a bank of cord also to Cribb's for the box coat, but as he was not at home I could not get it. I then went to the Jock, and on delivering the note, got the great toat and red shawl, and drove to Tetsalls. When I returned into the room, 1 iound seve- nl persons who were strangers to me had joined tie Thurteils and Probert. I therefore called P-obert and John Thurtell into the passage, and told them every thing was ready, and shewed them the sack, which Probert examined, and said, "I am sure this is not a six bushel sack-, this will not be large enough for him Jack. — Thirtell answered, Never mind, BUI, we must make shift with it: we have no time to lose. And he further remarked, What a h--y fool my brother Tom is, to have a parcel of people here at a time like this I" Probert said it was a foolish thing, but he was sure Tom did not ex- pect any person, and as they were come to serve him about his bail, he could not well deny him- self. Thurtell then said, 1, Well, never mind, let them stop and be d—d. I must be off You go into the room, Bill, and bring me Tom s drab great coat." Probert went and fetched it ac- cordingly. John Thurtell put the red shawl round his neck, and the drab great coat on, and bein°- ready to start, he asked Probert to repay him "the itO which he had let him have to take up a bill a few days before, out of the money for which I had sold a horse to a Mr. Simcock and Thurtell said lie must have it, or a part of it, be- cause he had no money. Probert said he would let him have part then, and the rest next week but he had no money himself, and must therefore borrow it of Charles Tetsall, the landlord. He accordingly borrowed some money of Mr. Tet- sail, and gave it to Thurtell, but how much I cannot say. John Thurtell told Probert not to be long after him, and got into the gig, and drove off. After Thurtell was gone, Probert and my- self went into the room, and had some punch, and in about three quarters of an hour Probert desired Mr. TetsallV, son to bring his horse and chaise to the door. He then left the room, and in about five minutes returned, saying, Hunt, the chaise is ready." I wished the company good night, got into the gig, Probert followed, and we drove off. In Oxford-street I got out, and bought a line of pork, at the desire of Pro- bert. We then went on to a Mr. Harding's, a nublican in Edgewaie-road, where we had some brandy and water, and again started. On our o-ettinr near the Bald-faced Stag, Probert wish- ed that I should get out and walk on, saying that he would soon overtake me. It was not at my desire, on account of the horse clothes, as Probert stated at the inquest, for, so far from my wishing to avoid the people of the house, I on the following morning stopped there to break- fast with Thomas Thurtell and Probert's boy.— I had never been at the house but once, and that was to a svpper, at the invitation of P. obert aid the cloths were not lent to me, but borrowed by Probert for a friend of mine, named Morgan and I went away, leaving John Thurtell and Probei-t there. While they were in this house on that occasion, John Thurietl fought with three countrymen, and they af erwaids told me that in the confusion they robbed one of the countrymen of his watch, which 1 hurtell pawned for 2;)s. somewhere in London, and they divided the money between them. > At Edgeware we stopped at a corn chandler s, and Probert got out to purchase corn. While he was in the shop I saw Thurtell and Weare pass. When Probert came out, I told him they were gone by, and we went on to Fieldis, the A itichoke, at Elstree, where we waited in ex- pectatit,n of their passing us again, and had three or four glasses of brandy and water. At last the chaise with Thurtell and Weare passed the house, and Probert nudged, me and whispered, Theie ihey so We must be after tin m.' — Field, the laud lord, about this time brought us another shilling's worill of brandy and waier, and on my expressing my anxiety to be oil, 1 rooert said, Xe\ w mind, we shall be time enough for as their horse is a hired hoise, he uuiht be nearly knocked up and as our's is fresh, we shall soon overtake them." We finished our brandy and water, and then Probert set o',Y in a gallop in the same direction they had gone, and on arriving at a place where a road branches off, and which I now know is near Mr. Phiilimore's Lodge, but which [ was then totally unacquaint- ed with, as I had never been that road before, Probert said, You get out here, and I will go on to the cottage, and see if Jack is there, and if all is right." i accordingly got out, and Probert went oil with the horse and chaise as hard as he could down the lane. In our way down, Probert frequently alluded to the money that was expected to be found upon Weare and his apprehensions lest Thurtell should WELL IT (meaning, keep it to himself.) He said, "We know Jack is a very detei mined fellow, and is sure to do the trick; but if lie don'tdo the thing that is right by giving us oar share, we shall be sure to learn by the newspapers what amount he takes, and we shall know how to act hereafter." After an absence, of near an hour, Probert came back to the spot where he had left me and directly he was wiihin hearing, he began singin". Bright chanticleer proclaims the dawn, W; °and when I got into the chaise, ho said, "'it is all o ei Jack bus killed him (meaning I'hurtell had killed Weave.) I have seen Jack, and Jack has shewn me the murdeied man's hunting wa'cli." I said, He must have been at'your place some time." "O yes," replied Probert at least an hour, for his horse and chaise are put up, and the horse riresceu; but Jack tells me the man had not got so much mo- ney as he expected. On onr arriving at the cotfaga, Thurtell was leaning against the stable door, and'Probert's. lad was cleaning down his horse. Probert sent lad was cleaning dcwn his horse. Probert sent me into the kitchen with the loin of-pork,and told me to (lesheyre cook to dress it for supper, while he went into the stable'to Thurtell. In about ten minutes they came to me in the kitchen, •aid we all went into the parlour, where Probert introduced me to his v,-ife, qal-iiig,This is my friend Hunt, of wholll you have'so otfen heard j me speak as being- so good a singer and I have brought him down to enieriain you." After a little time had passed, Probert told his wife that while supper was getting ready, it v/ould be b.et- ter for us to get o it of her. way, and we should therefore go to th stable and see to the putting up of the horses. We accordingly went to the stable, and Piobert sent the boy into the kitchen, and told him to stop there till he gave him fur- ther orders. Directly the boy left us together, Thurtell shewed me the gold watch and appen- da.res and then he, Probert, and myse.f, took the la'nthorn from the stable, and went across a nioup hed field, in order to search for the body of the deceased. As we were proceeding to the snot J Thurtell said that he had got Wtaie s s )o i-te purse, which had only two or three, sovereigns in it but that he did not luive time to search thoroughly for the other money. On crossing the ploughed held, wt came di- rectly upon the body, which was kly'ng ncar the hedge on the inside, and tnere was a „ap in the hedge, which had evidently been made by dJ'g- g-ing the body through it. The had and fce were covered with Thurteirs red snavl, which, also appeared to be tied round K deceased. I held the bullhorn, and 3 up the body, under the. arms while; Jo Thi till rilled the pockets. Nothing was hmndul.de I was present, except four B ai.k were taken by Thurtell from of the deceased, These were folded carelessly, and not inclosed in ju y [ pocket-book. Thurtell and Probei t themselves as being much disappoint*d aid 1 also joined in similar expressIOns: bllt 1 ita'io 110 W r*. on the deceased, because it wa> not Weave would have brought so small a considering the object he had in view nor was tt probable that he would carry his rloU s. when he had a silk note case in hisposscbs • This note case had been taken by I h'U'U the deceased, before Probert and I anive <_ besides, how should he have been a e Probert that the man had not so much money about him as he expected, unless he 11a then made a complete search ? My opinion is, that he had got the money, and kept it. in his own pos- session, except the < £ "20 which he pu pocket as a blind to us and I am the more con- firmed in this opinion, because he afterwards had plenty of money, and has boasted that ne could give J:300 to get witnesses to clear him. v After the searching was finished, the body was put into the sack I had purchased, and wtncli Probert had brought from the ch ase, and when it was secured, we consulted as to how long it was to be left there, and it was arranged that the deceased was not to be removed until after the women should be gone to bed, and then the horse was to be taken to fetch the body to the garden so that it might be thrown into the pond until a convenient opportunity offered to bury it. The following is the account J. Thurtell gave us of the circumstances attending the actual com- mission of the njui-der:- On reaching TyburnTurnpike, I found Weare waiting" for me in the coach—I saw his head look- ing out of the window." As we were going along the dark lane, Weare said to me, I D-ii my eyes, Jack, here's a pretty place to cut a man's throat, if you want to get rid of him V Presently after I said to him, k I have missed the Lodge Gates—I must have passed them.' Then I turned the horse about, and followed your advice, Pro- bert, by telling him how nice the country looked that way this induced him to turn in the direc- tion I pointed, and I shot him through the head, but I have had a great deal of trouble to kill him. I never had so much trouble to kill a man in all my life, for at one time hend nearly got the bet- ter of me for after I had discharged my pistol at him, he jumped out of the gig and ran I followed and he fought with me till I knocked him down with the pistol, and he then struggled with me with great resolution, and actually got me under- most. While, however, I was in this situation, I took out my penknife and cut his throat, and in so doing I broke the blade of my knife. The blood rushed from him in large quantities, and some got down my throat and nearly choked me; at last, when his strength failed him by the loss of blood, I got up. He still lay and groaned for a short t iiiie, but I seon stopped that by tying my large red handkerchief round the b 's throat, and drag- ging him through the hedge. In the struggle I have unfortunately lost my penknife and the pistol, and we must endeavour to find them, lest ihey should be picked up by somebody, and create an alarm." PI obert said it was no use to look for them that night, but he would go early in the morning and find them; and it would be better for him to look tor them, because, as he was known to all the peo- ple about, no suspicion would be created by his being in the lane, and lie could take the dogs out with him as an excuse. On returning to the cottage, we had some bran- dy, and then John Thurtell drew the watch and chain from his pocket,and took off the chain, and s,ii,l to Mrs. Probert, "This belonged to a little Quakeress, a sweetheart of mine at Norwich but as I have turned her up, I mus1 beg of you 1 o keep it for my sake." He ihen placed ilie chain round her neck she received it very cordially, and promised never 10 part withb. I omitted to mention a circumstance communi- cated to me about a month before Mr. Weare's murder, and which this allusion to the Quakeress brings to my recollection. It is this—I was, said John Thurtell, upon terms of intimacy with a Quaker's family at Norwich, and privately paid my addresses to the daughter, who was, I believe, very fond of me; until a young man who was a viiend of the family, and a pretended friend of mine, told the father that I was a profligate bad character, and ought not to be permitted to visit at their house. The Old gentleman told his wife, and she communicated what passed to the daugh- ter, and the girl mentioned it to me. 1 soon after served him out for his treachery. I took him out with me in my boat, under pretence of fishing,but I took care he was never afterwards heard of.— But to return to my narrative. After we had finished our supper, and com- menced taking our grog or mixed liquor, Pro- bert said to his wife, You think me a good singer, Betsey, but you must hear my friend Mr. Hunt, who will sing you a song about Bet- sey- a favourite song of mine." They repeat- edly pressed me, and I sung the song he wished me. I> afterwards sung another. Probert also sung, arid' Thurtell endeavoured to sing, but could not get though the song he attempted,— About twelve o'clock Mrs. Probert was forward in liquor. Probert told her that as he had me there, he intended to sit up and enjoy himself. Miss Noyes should therefore get us the glasses and another bottle of rum, and then they had better go to bed. Miss Noyes accordingly went away with Mrs. Probert, who, at the time she left the room, said, 1 suppo-e you'll make a drunken bout of it, and I shan't disturb you."— Thurtell said, "Yes, ytn may expect to see I yosr Billy come up to bed (!aik enough."— In a little while after the women were gone to bed, Th urtell said, "We may as well look and see if there is any ehomt about the money, and .1 he examined the four notes, but there were no marks upon them. John Thurtell now pro- duced a small silk note case, such as is ge- nerally carried Dy sporting men, with different divisions in it for their notes. This was exa- mined, but it contained only Mr. Weare's shoot- ing licence, and a few memorandums; these, together with the iiiemorraidums, were burnt.— He next brought out a brown silk purse, in >. which there were three sovereigns and some silver: this parse also was burnt, and likewise a small betting-book. The money was then divided between us, by Thurtell giving- Pro- bert a.nd me a fixe pound note and a sovereign each, and reserving the remainder to pay for tlie horse and chaise, and the other expences. When Probert received his share, lie held out his hand and said, This is a bad look out—this is hardly worth coming down for Jack," Thurtell answered, It cannot be. helped. I thought Bill, we should have had a hundred or two at the least, but we must now make the best of it we can., This watch you must recollect Bill, will fetch twenty or thirty pounds." Very true," said Probert" and the gun, if it is good for any thing will fetch ten pounds and then addressing me he said, Go, Huat, and fetch the gun, and all the other things, and let's see what they are worth." I accordingly went into the stable,and brought the gun, a small box, and a travelling bag. Probert looked at the gun, and said, This is one of Manton's hlake: it will bring at least lOt." He then laid hold of the box, and said to Thurtell, rlns is the back- gammon board you were speaking, of. Jack." Yes," said Thurtell, that is the board to pick up a flat with." Probert, said, Come, Jack, let's open the bag: there may be some money hi that." Thurtell then took out of his pocket a handsome penknife, which he said he had taken from Mr. Weare's coat pocket, and cut the bag open, while Probert held it. The bag contained some linen, several waistcoats, and a shooting* dress also, two pair of dice, which I understood were loaded, and two or three packs of false cards. One pack of the cards Probert kept, the others were again put into the bag with the linen. Probert also took a yellow silk handkerchief, which was marked with Mr. Weare's name, and Probert burnt out the mark over the candle. After this division, it was pro- posed to go and fetch the body, and accordingly all three went to the stable, and the bridle being put to Thurtell's horse, lie and Probert went to the ploughed field, while I remained near the house to see that all was quiet, and if 1 found any one was stirring, to give an alarm, and pre- vent their being seen on their return. In a short time they came back, Thurtell leading the horse and Probert holding the body so as to keep it across the horse without falling. The horse was led into the garden near to the pond, and the body I was there tin own from the horse's back into the green sward by the side of the pond, when Thur- tell observed that the body would not sink unless some stones or something heavy were put into the sack whereupon Probert said lie, would o-et some of the large flints from his shrubbery, and he accordingly went and brought several laro-e slones, which were put into the sack, and the body was thrown with a swing, by Thurtell and Probert, into the pond. Before the body was thrown in, Probert said the feet would probably rise up, unless something was done to keep them under water; and to prevent it, he tied one end of a string to the'dead man's legs, and kept the other on the bank, and when the body was sunk, lie drew the string so as to keep the "legs down' and fastened the end to a particular spot by the pond side, where he said he could readily find it, and draw the body ashore whenever he wished. After the body was thus disposed of, we re- turned into the parlour, and Probert said he would go up stairs, and see if his old woman was asleep. He remained absent a few minutes, and on his return we entered into conversation, and sat drinking until about two o'clock, when Pro- bert left us and went to bed. In the course of this conversation, Mr. Probert said, There cannot be a better place in the world than this, to get rid of thatb—y thief. Holding you know how lie has robbed me, Jack, and it will be easy to get him here, and finish him in this parlour and as you know I must soon leave this cottage, it must be done quickly." Thurtell said, You have only to say the word, Bill, and it is done." Thus ends the history of this eventful night.

iiiumiMMijaijiiwynrrej TRIAL OF THE REBELS. KINGSTON, DEc.2S,-The following sla vell wer charged with being concerned in rebellious con- spiracies and committing other crimes, to tilts ruin and destruction of the white people, and others of this island, and for causing, exciting, and promoting others thereto and for being con- cerned in rebellion, and designing to commit murder, felony, burglary, and to set fire to cer- tain houses, out-liotises, and compassing and ima- gining the death of the white people in the said parish. They were all found guilty and sentenc- ed to be hanaed. H. Nibbs, to J. Walker, Esq, Value 501. C.Brown, to Frontier Estate.—Value 10:)I; J. Sterling, to do.—Value 05 £ C.Watson, to do.-Valuc SOL. R. Wellington, to do,-70l" W. Montgomery, to do.—Value IDOl. R. Cosley, to do.-Value 1001. M. Henry, to do.—Value !H)/. On their defence they denied the charge, and saifl they were well used, and Clothed, and wem quite happy. One of them, Charles Watson, de- clared that he never was punished in his life; that great trust was put in him, and he was as well off as if he was free. The above culprits were executed at Port Ala nit, in the most solemn and impressive maniieri on Wednesday, in pursuance of his Grace's wStr5 lant. From the evidence, it appeared beyond the shadow'i6f a doubt, that they designed to set tir to Frontier works, adjoining Port Maria, and t butcher the whites and free persons of colour, as they came to extinguish the tire, then to come down in the town, and take possession of it, while a detachment seized the tort. A friend, who has just had occasion to cov.sidt the Burleigh papers in the British Museum, stumbled, in his search f/r other matters, iipoif the following letters, addressed !o Lord Burleigh, by the Mr. M\Ldam of the year 1G00:— LANSDOWNE MS. No. 91, 33. PAPKRS. The xjj, of Jnne, WOO. WILLIAM LAnaREH 's Offer for inendinge th Kighwayes. I- Whereas yt ys said that William Laborer maketh the Waves good and better then others, but yet saicnge his work ys very deere. To this he answereth: As he taketh yt, count- inge the goodnes thereof, yt is not so neither shall their be cause for any reasonable man tl1 saie so hereafter, for the reasons followinge :— And for profe thereof, he desireth that arm? man may tak 100 men to wrrke as they have used to work ordinarily heretofore for 3 or 1 yeares past; and he will take the value of 30 itien, vnl doe as much worke with the foresaid value of 3W men as a 100 men shall doe, and he proferreth to teach the same knowledge throughout the whole kingdom. "And for that Mr. Thomas Norton, the King's surveyor of his Ma.'s wayes, for soe he calleth himselfe, hath gon aboure to disswade me to leave of from mendinge the highwaves uppofl Sounday last, beiftge the xvH, day of June, won, I which me thinks he hath no reason to disswadc me from that worke except he knew his skill to bee very great, and mine yery little. I Thei-efoi-c I am desireou's to make choyce of him before any other to lake the 100 men and {. the 50, as aforesaid, the rather for that he takelli uppon him such worke at this instant, and hath I gott some that hath pertaiiii, Li to me before in my works. And whereas any othlr man hath made any way for a mile or two miles space, I will under- take to make the like for halk the charges. I beseech yor. Lolps favor in so good a causc. WIt.LIAlVI LABORER." "MS. LANSDOWNE, No. 91, 33. "HICKES'PAJPEUS. _r Thc.rxij. of June, 1(100. VViLLiAN LABORER'S OlFer for the mending of the Ilighwayes. This he sayth, tetany man take 40 men to work, and he will take xx. or the valew-of x*. work, and he will take xx. or the valew of sx. and he will do as much worke with the valew of xx. men, as another shall do with 40 men. Also wher as any other man hath mad any highwayes for a myle, or ij. myles to gether, I will undertake to make the way as good with halfe the charge. I:) WILLIAM LABORER," Peace and prosperity seems to have curtailed the business of Parliament so much, that It is thought the country gentlemen will stand a chalice this year of tasting their own peas. Most ample means of escape from the Police- have been provided at the new liell in St.James' street. The infernal regions—that is to say, the coal cellars—have been united and their extent, together with the intricacies of the passages are* such, as to defy the ingenuity of any Bow street officer to unravel. A gentleman of this neighbourhood, who has two sons at school at Caen, in Normandy, has recently been advised, that, by a Government Order, all Children, without reference to nation or religious opinions, educated at the French Schools, must attend the celebration of Mass-in other words, be initiated into the principles and practices of the Catholic creed. At the late dinner given in Dundee, in honour of the birth of Burns, the following anecdote of the poet was related by a gentleman present.— When in Glasgow, Burns dined with a party of social friends and among- the party was a Mr. Barton, a dandy of those days, and as,prol)ei- in his language as he was dandy in his dress. His constant expressions were, D—n my eyes D-ii my blood!" Burns was frequently re- quested to write this persons epitaph, but he de- I clined the task. At length Barton himself re- z, quested the poet to do him the favour before so. often asked and refused, when Burns <1rew Qut pencil, and wrote the following distich i— Here cursing, swearing Barton lies; A beau, a buck, or d—n my eyes I Who in his life did little good, And his last words were d-n my blood Barton felt the satire, and sat quiet for thetest of the evening.-Dundce Advertiser.