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taken out of it; for it is the body of a priestess, whose name was Tsennofre*.
The paintings on the coffins, generally refer to the entrance of the deceased into his new state of existence. Thus, in one of the compartments of the coffin of Horsiesi, a priest of Thebes, whose mummy was lately opened by Mr. Pettigrew, at the College of Surgeons, there is a remarkable group, emblematic one might imagine, of a future trial. The god, Osiris, with his usual high cap on his head, and sitting on his throne, receives a person, probably the deceased, who is introduced by a hawk-headed deity. Behind the throne stand two female figures, the foremost supposed to be Isis, the wife of Osiris, in attendance on the god. Below these are two pairs of female forms in separate rows, with ample wings extending from their arms, the lower pair having the faces of birds. Above, as well as below all these devices, appears the Scarabteus, or sacred beetle: an air of extreme absurdity is given to one of these insects, by its having the head of a hawk.
The beetle was considered by the Egyptians to represent the sun j and one, formed of stone or baked earth, is frequently found, next to the skin, on the breast of the human mummy. Such is the case with that of Horsiesi, a stone beetle, of a pale yellow, being still attached to the body; and above it, round the mummy's neck, are six or seven small pieces of different-coloured pottery strung together, probably for amulets. The body looks dark and charred, as if burnt; and its general appearance would lead, as in other instances, to the opinion, that it had been violently heated when the bandages were applied. The latter appear to have been put on wet. False eyes of enamel have been inserted in the sockets. This latter peculiarity Belzoni often observed in the mummies of priests; who always appeared folded in a most careful manner, such as to show the great respect in which their office was held. Their arms and legs, he remarks, were not enclosed in the same envelope with the body, as in the common mode, but were bandaged separately, even the fingers and toes being thus preserved distinct.
Belzoni saw some mummies with sandals of coloured leather on the feet, and bracelets on the arms and wrists. He tells us that the coffins were always placed horizontally, in rows, within the sepulchres. He entered some tombs, which contained the mummies of inferior creatures, (mingled with those of human beings); such as bulls, cows, monkeys, dogs, cats, crocodiles f, fish, and birds; and one tomb was filled with nothing but cats J, carefully folded in red
• It is well known that the Arabs, when in search of gain among the tombs, have, on returning the mummies, frequently put them into wrong cases.
t The Crocodile was held sacred at Thebes. Ombos, in the environs of Lake Moeris, and in other parts of Egypt. At Arsinoe, the priests nourished one, to which the name of Suchus was given; it was fed upon bread, flesh, and wine, offered to it by strangers; it was preserved in a particular lake, and, whilst reposing, the priests approached the animal, opened his mouth, and put the food within its jaws; after his repast, it usually descended into the water, and swam away, but it would suffer itself to be handled j and pendants of gold and precious stones were placed about it. Strabo relates that his host, a man of consideration, conducted him and his companions to the lake, and that he there saw the Crocodile at the border; that one of the priests to whom was intrusted the care of the animal, opened his mouth and placed within it a cake, another a portion of fle«h, and a third poured in some wine. The repast thus made, the animal passed over to the other side, to receive from other hands timiiar marks of attention.—Pettigrew.
t Innumerable heaps of cats, in an embalmed state, have been discovered in certain districts. "The carcases of dead cats," says Herodotus, "are removed into sacred apartments, and after they nave been embalmed, they are reverently entombed in the town of BiiuastU. This animal was held by these idolaters sacred to the rr.oon.'* If a cat was killed, either designedly or by accident, the unfoitunate offender was puuished with death. They must have had plenty of these animals. How strange it seems, that at a city in Egypt, in the reign of Tiberius, 7000 Romans were killed by the Ejjptians, in a tumult, because a Roman soldier—had killed a cat!
and white linen, the head covered by a mask, representing the cat within. For a specimen of these instances of "solemn mockery," we refer to the prints at the head of our present paper; they are taken from the engravings which illustrate Belzoni"s travels, and represent the embalmed bodies of some of the animals held sabred in ancient Egypt.
Enough has now been stated, to convey some general information on these curious and interesting points. But wc cannot conclude without remarking, that ancient as was the custom of embalming the human body, that of interment is certainly the most ancient, and religious. It restores to the earth what was originally taken from it; and, by the analogy of nature as well as the word of Divine Revelation, prepares our minds to expect a restoration of our bodies. For as, in the sowing " of wheat, or of some other grain, we sow not that body that shall be," rising as wheatdoes in a far different state; so He, whose almighty power can unite bone to its bone, and sinew to its sinew, will give to his reasonable creature, man, " a body as it has pleased Him." And surely we can never dwell on the besotted ignorance and superstition of heathen people, without a feeling of heartfelt gratitude for the blessings we enjoy as Christians. Wc are thus reminded, also, of the reasonableness, nay, the necessity, of that distinct Revelation which God made to man. For here we observe that, with all their boasted skill, a mighty people " became vain in their imaginations, and their foolish heart was darkened. Professing themselves to be wise, they became fools, and changed the glory of the incorruptible God into an image made like to corruptible man, and to birds, and four-footed beasts, and creeping things." How important, then, how necessary, were the divinelyvouchsafed means of " Casting Down imaginations and every high thing that exalteth itself against the knowledge of God." M.
The savage is commonly found to be covetous, frequently violent in seeking any object which he needs, or which his fancy is set on. He is not, indeed, so stcadi/, or so careful in his pursuit of gain, as the civilized man; but this is from the general unsteadiness, and thoughtlessness of his character; not from his being engrossed by higher views. What keeps him poor, in addition to want of skill, and insecurity of property, is not a noble contempt of riches, but a love of sluggish torpor, and of present indulgence. The same may be said of such persons as are the dregs of a civilized community: they are idle, thoughtless, improvident; but thievish. Sad as it is to behold, as we may in our own country, crowds of beings of such high powers, and such a high destination as man, absorbed in the pursuit of merely outward and earthly objects, engaged in schemes for attaining wealth and worldly increase, without any high object in pursuing them; we must remember, that the savage is not above such a life, but below it. It is not because he loves virtue more than wealth, the goods of the mind more than those of fortune, the next world more than the present, that he takes so little thought for the morrow; but from want of forethought, and habitual self-control. The civilized man too often directs those qualities of forethought and self-control to an unworthy end; the savage is .deficient in the qualities themselves. The one is a stream flowing, too often, in a wrong channel, and which needs to have its course altered. The other is a stagnant pool,
The Employment Of Gain.
A Man, for instance, who has scraped together a large share of wealth, as in the progress of society naturally takes place, may be so selfishly disposed, that he would willingly spend all his riches on himself, without a thought of doing good to others. But though there are various modes of expenditure, some more, and some less useful to the public, in which he may employ it, it is hardly possible for him to keep it entirely to himself. Directly, or indirectly, he will always be feeding labourers with it. He may employ them in producing something which will add to the stock of national wealth; in which case, he will be enriching the community. But, if he employ them in making lace, or diving for pearls, to add to the splendour of his dress, or in pulling down his house, and rebuilding it after some fancy of his own, or in waiting at his table, he still maintains them. He is no more consuming his money himself, than if he had thought fit to give to those who now work for him, the bread they eat, leaving them to sit idle. The only difference is, that they are at work, instead of doing nothing, and that they feel that they are earning their own bread, instead of being fed by charity.
It is only when a rich man lays down in forest, like William the Conqueror, a quantity of fertile land, or in some such way lessens the means of human subsistence, that his wealth is mischievous to the community.
At the first glance, some are apt to fancy when they see a rich man, whose income is a hundred times as much as suffices to maintain a poor man's family, that if he were stripped of all, and his wealth divided, a hundred poor families additional might thus obtain subsistence; but this, it is plain, would not be the case, even when the income was spent in a vain and selfish manner. Capital. A Very large portion of the wealth that exists in a country is employed in procuring a further increase of wealth; in other words, is employed as Capital. Wealth so employed, is a most important agent for the production of wealth; so important indeed, that the first beginnings of it must have been attained with extreme difficulty, since labour is comparatively helpless without it.
Corn is raised by labour, but corn is needed both to sow the laud, and to support the labourer till the harvest is ripe. The tools with which he works are produced by other tools: the handle of the axe with which he fells the wood, came from the wood, and the iron of it was dug from the mine with iron implements.
We hardly know how to calculate the checks to the first few steps, when stakes and sharp stones were the tools, and the labourer's subsistence was the wild product of the earth, and the flesh of wild animals. It is, however, plain, that each succeeding step must have been easier, and at the same time more effective than the preceding, till at length the various contrivances for abridging labour, that is, making labour more productive, enabled a large share of the community to live free from all share in the labour of producing the necessaries of life, while yet the whole population, though immensely increased in numbers, were better fed, clothed, and lodged, than any had been in that earlier stage, "when every one, above a certain age, was compelled to labour for his daily food. D.
A Plausible insignificant word, in the mouth of an expert demagogue, is a dangerous and a dreadful weapon.—South.
THE WELLINGTON SHIELD.
No. VI. The Assault And Capture Of Badajoz.
Badajoz, the capital of the Spanish province of Estremadura, and a fortified city of considerable strength, stands in a beautiful plain on the left bank of the river Guadiana, near to the spot where it receives the waters of the Gevora. As it is little more than four miles distant from the frontier of Portugal, it has always been considered an important fortress, both as affording facilities for an irruption into that kindom, and as a powerful barrier against invasion therefrom. The Goths captured it in the fifth century, the Moors in the eighth; and Alphonso of Castile, re-conquered it in 1230. In all the later wars between Spain and Portugal, it formed one of the places in which the Spaniards were used to collect their armies, before they entered their enemy's country; and though possessing little advantage of natural strength, it had been well fortified.
Early in 1811, whilst Massena was at Santarem, and the allied army was sheltered within the lines of Torres Vedras, a detachment from Soult's army, in the south of Spain, advanced to open a communication with Massena across the Tagus, and proceeded accordingly to reduce the fortresses which the Spaniards still held, and which it was necessary to secure, before they entered Portugal. Badajoz was thus besieged; and after a defence of about six weeks, it surrendered to the French; but when Massena had retreated from Portugal, Lord Wellington determined to attempt its recovery.
Marshal Beresford had been directed to advance upon Badajoz; but he had scarcely invested it, when the approach of Soult with a powerful army, obliged him to raise the siege, and collect all his force, wherewith to meet that marshal. The battle of Albuhera followed, in which the French were completely defeated, though with a most severe loss on the part of the victors. Lord Wellington arrived in Beresford's camp soon after the battle, and the siege of Badajoz was then resumed, and continued under his own direction. But the British army was so deficient in all the requisites for conducting an operation of this description, that its efforts were attended with very little success; and as the combined French armies, to the number of 70,000 men, were approaching, Lord Wellington was reduced to the necessity of abandoning the attempt, and retiring within the Portuguese frontier.
Few operations of moment occurred in the autumn of 1811; but Wellington was silently preparing for a second siege of Ciudad Rodrigo, which was attacked and carried with almost incredible rapidity, in the beginning of 1812. He then advanced against Badajoz, which had once already resisted his efforts to reduce it. The capture of Ciudad Rodrigo had quite confounded the French; it awoke them to a full sense of the rapid energy of their opponent, and this circumstance rendered it necessary for the Earl of Wellington, (for he had been raised to the Earldom in consequence of that brilliant exploit,) to mask with the greatest caution, his intended operation against Badajoz. A powerful battering-train was embarked on board ships of heavy tonnage at Lisbon; those ships put to 6ea, to avoid suspicion, and when they were out of sight of the port, the guns were reshipped into vessels of a smaller size, which conveyed them up the Sadao, (a small river entering the sea a little below the Tagus, near Setuval,) to Alcacer do Sal, where animals were procured without difficulty, to drag them to the banks of the Guadiana.
At Elvas, an extensive fortress only three leagues
distant from Badajoz, a large supply of fascines * and gabions t was prepared, and as these might have been merely for the use of that place, the circumstance excited no suspicion of their real destination. By the exercise of these precautions, it was not till the day before Lord Wellington arrived at Elvas, that the French governor of Badajoz (Baron Philippon) knew the extensive nature of the preparations which had been made against him. He was, however, an able man, and reputed to be one of the best engineers in the Imperial army; 5000 chosen troops, composed his garrison, and he had inspired them with the greatest confidence, by his previous successful defences against Beresford and Wellington. The place, too, had been greatly strengthened since then by the construction of extensive additional works, and altogether the fortifications were truly formidable, especially to an army so deficient in engineers as was the British.
We have said that Badajoz stands on the left, or south bank, of the Guadiana, and thus the town was, on its north, protected by that river. On the land-side it was surrounded by a chain of eight forts, which commencing from the river, ran in one continuous line along the western, the southern, and part of the eastern front; the remaining part of this last front being defended down to the water by an old Moorish castle, standing on a bold and rocky height, and over-topping all the other works. At the bottom of this hill meandered the small rivulet of the Rivellas, which, skirting along the base of the whole eastern line of fortifications, emptied itself into the Guadiana under the frowning walls of the castle itself. But these were not the only defences of the town: within 200 yards of the south-western corner of the body of the place stood a detached fort, named Las Pardaleras; and about twice that distance from the- south-eastern corner,
• A kind of fagots made of small branches of trees or brushwood, and used for various purposes, as for covering the workmen engaged in making approaches to an enemy's fortification, or for filling up ditches.
t Ozier baskets, of a cylindrical form, used for similar purposes is the fascines.
and, consequently, on the outside of the rivulet -Rivellas, was another similar outwork, called La Picurina; both of these works were strong. On the opposite bank of the Guadiana were three forts ; one at the head of the only bridge leading across that river into the town, and the others securing the commanding positions; but, as the attack was, in the present case, confined to the left bank, a more detailed description of them would be unnecessary.
The British army being on the north side of the river, the first object to be accomplished was to throw a pontoon % bridge across; this was. effected on the 16th of March, and three divisions of infantry crossing, invested the place without opposition. On the following day Lord Wellington, accompanied by his engineers, carefully reconnoitered the defences. The south-eastern part of the walls seemed to offer the fairest chance of success, and there it was determined to batter them. This could be done from the hill on which the Picurina redoubt stood, and that redoubt it was resolved must be carried, and connected with the first parallel. The plan was hazardous, but it was the only one by which there was a chance of success. Accordingly, soon after the close of evening, 3000 men broke ground before La Picurina, at the distance of 1C0 yards. The night was dark and stormy, and the rain fell in heavy and uninterrupted torrents; but the workmen dug stoutly at the trenches, and when the mists of morning cleared away, the enemy beheld with surprise the completion of the first line. The rain, however, impeded the progress of the British; the men were soon working up to their hips in water, and it was not till the night of the 24th that the batteries could be completed, and the guns dragged into them through the slough. On the 25th their fire was opened, and La Picurina was stormed and captured that same night.
The fort was quickly dismantled before mornmg, and the British engineers pushed forward theii second parallel with great success. On the 31st,
X Pontoons are a sort of oblong flat-bottomed boats, covered with copper; they are conveyed with an army, on carriages u»ed for that purpose,
two batteries, armed with twenty-six heavy guns, opened their fire, and for six days did they continue with such execution, that the enemy's batteries were nearly crippled, and three breaches effected in their walls. The assault was, therefore, fixed for that night (March 0,) at ten o'clock. Two principal attempts were to be made simultaneously; one to storm the breaches, the other to assail the castle, and gain it by an escalade of its stupendous walls, thirty-five feet in height. At eight o'clock the troops were all assembled in battle array; the night was dark and misty; the batteries on both sides were silent, and the stillness of the scene gave no token of the storm that was approaching. Meantime Philippon and his trusty men were active, and called to their aid all the skill and resources they possessed.
At length the preparations of the British were completed; and "all," says a writer in the United Service Journal, " was now in readiness; the soldiers, unincumbered by their knapsacks, their stocks off, their shirt-collars unbuttoned, their trowsers tucked up to the knee, their tattered jackets, so worn out, as to render the regiment they belonged to barely recognisable; their huge whiskers, and bronzed faces, which several hard-fought campaigns had changed from their natural hue; but, above all, their self-confidence, devoid of boast or bravado, gave them the appearance of an invincible host."
Picton's division moved against the castle, and reached the rivulet at its foot, unseen and undisturbed; but suddenly the enemy's fireballs flashed forth, and lighted up to view the mass that was advancing. A loud shout burst at once from the assailants; dashing across the Rivellas, knee-deep, they soon gained the foot of the castle wall, and there the flames of the combustiles, shedding a strong glare on all sides, displayed to them the formidable obstacles they had to encounter. The high and rugged ramparts above were crowned with a host of veterans, each having eight loaded firelocks beside him; at intervals were distributed pikes of an enormous length, with crooks attached to them, for the purpose of grappling with the ladders; rocks of ponderous size, with shells, hand-grenades, and missiles of all descriptions, were gathered on the wall, in fearful plenty, ready to be hurled in an instant on the assailants' heads beneath; and to complete the murderous picture, batteries of guns, charged to the very muzzle with case and grape shot, were already blazing away from the projecting portions of the ramparts, on either side of the British masses. Despite this storm, the ladders were boldly dragged into the ditch; and each, so soon as planted against the lofty battlements, was quickly mounted, and crowded from top to bottom. But in vain did the assailants strive to reach the top; those that escaped the pike-thrusts were shattered to atoms by the cross-fire from the side batteries, or fell impaled upon the bayonets of their comrades in the ditch below. The carnage became dreadful, officers and men were struck down thickly, and more than half of the division was soon cut off. Two ladders were at length fixed, and a few brave men soon reached the top of the wall, and there fought fiercely with its brave defenders. By such deeds as these a footing was gained, the defence began to slacken, other ladders were reared, and then a general rush came on and the castle was won.
Meantime, a fearful scene was acting at the breaches. Ten thousand men moved silently up the glacis*, undiscovered; but when at that spot their footsteps were heard, and at once "darkness was
'• The glacis is the elope leading up to th« outer edge of
converted into light, torches blazed along the battlements, and a spectator, at a short distance from the walls, could distinguish the features of the contending parties. A battery of mortars, doubly loaded with grenades, and a blaze of musketry, unlike anything hitherto witnessed by the oldest soldier, opened a murderous fire against the two divisions; but, unshaken by its effects, they pressed onward and jumped into the ditch."
Great confusion arose from ignorance of the route to the several breaches, and a general rush was made to that on the left; but there was seen tb.3 fulness of the enemy's resources. Immediately in front of it, sixty fourteen-inch shells were ranged round, and lightly covered with earth, so as to be hidden from view; casks, filled with tarred straw, powder and loaded grenades, were placed along the trenches, and large shells with them. The face of the breach itself was blocked by sloping planks, studded with long sharp spikes, and edged at top with glittering sabre-blades, formed into chevaux de /rise, and firmly fixed in the trunks of large trees, which were chained, like a boom, across the entrance; and beyond this frightful barrier stood 3000 men, ranged in trenches cut into successive tiers, and calmly waiting, each with eight muskets beside him, until it should be forced.
The assailants rushed boldly forward, but the enemy's fire was too murderous to be withstood, and their skilful devices were horribly effective. All attempts to force the breach were useless, and at length the troops were withdrawn. But, in the meanwhile, Picton had taken the castle, and General Leith had effected an entrance at another part of the walls; the breaches were then evacuated by their brave defenders, and Count Philippon retired across the bridge to Fort S. Christoval, on the opposite side of the river. At day-light the white flag was hoisted, in token of submission, and he and his garrison surrendered.
And now commenced a frightful scene: one of those scenes which renders war doubly horrible, and which are disgraceful to human nature. Before six o'clock on the morning after its capture, the rich and beautiful town of Badajoz, was plunged into all the horrors that are invariably attendant upon a capture by assault. All order was at an end. The fine and gallant army, inflamed by maddening draughts of wines and brandy, burst upon the ill-fated inhabitants. With intoxication, the soldiers became reckless; and insult, and injury followed. As soon as fresh troops could be brought up, they were marched in, and order was at length restored. The captured plunder, was deposited in the camp, and a regular market there held for its sale and exchange. By noon, on the 9th, all the confusion had ceased, and the troops resumed the orderly appearance they possessed three weeks before, the only change visible, being the thinness of their ranks; for they had suffered much, 5000 men having been killed and wounded during the siege.
1. Never put off till to-morrow what you can do to-day.
2. Never trouble others for what you can do yourself.
3. Never spend your money before you have it.
4. Never buy what you do not want because it is cheap.
5. Pride costs us more than hunger, thirst, and cold.
6. We never repent of having eaten too little.
7. Nothing is troublesome that we do willingly.
8. How much pains have those evils cost us which have never happened.
9. Take every thing by its smooth handlf
10. When angry count ten before you speak; if very angry, count a hundred,
Thb great examples of Bacon, of Milton, of Newton, of Locke, and of others, happen to be directly against the popular inference, that a certain wildness of eccentricity and thoughtlessness of conduct, are the necessary accompaniments of talent, and the sure indications of genius. Because some have united these extravagancies with great demonstrations of talent, as a Rousseau, a Chatterton, a Savage, a Burns, or a Byron, others, finding it less difficult to be eccentric than to be brilliant, have therefore adopted the one, in the hope that the world would give them credit for the other. But the greatest genius is never so great as when it is chastised and subdued by the highest reason: it is from such a combination, like that of Bucephalus, reined in by Alexander, that the most powerful efforts have been produced. And be it remembered, that minds of the very highest order, who have given an unrestrained course to their caprice, or to their passions, would have been so much higher by subduing them; and that so far from presuming that the world would give them credit for talent, on the score of their aberrations and their extravagancies, all that they dared hope or expect has been, that the world would pardon and overlook those extravagancies, on account of the various and manifold proofs they were constantly exhibiting, of superior acquirement and inspiration. We mijjht also add, that the good effects of talent are universal, the evil of its blemishes confined. The light and heat of the sun benefit all, and are by all enjoyed; the spots on his surface are discoverable only to the few. But the lower order of aspirers to fame and talent, have pursued a very different course; instead of exhibiting talent, in the hope that the world would forgive their eccentricities, they have exhibited only their eccentricities, in the hope that the world would give them credit for talent. Lacon.
The misery of human life is made up of large masses, each separated from the other by certain intervals. One year the death of a child; years after, a failure in trade; after another longer or shorter interval, a daughter may have married unhappily:—in all but the singularly unfortunate, the integral parts that compose the sum total of the unhappiness of a man's life are easily counted and distinctly remembered. The happiness of life, on the contrary, is made up of minute fractions; the little soon-forgotten charities of a kiss, a smile, a kind look, a heartfelt compliment in the disguise of playful raillery, and the countless other infinitesimals of pleasurable thought and genial
The humble Dr. Sanderson had so conquered all repining and ambitious thoughts, and with them all other unruly passions, that if the accidents of the day proved to his danger or damage, yet he both began and ended it with an even and undisturbed quietness; always praising God that be had not withdrawn food and raiment from him and his poor family; nor suffered him to violate his conscience for his safety, or to support himself or them in a more splendid or plentiful condition; and that he therefore resolved with
David, "lhat his praise should be always in his mouth.'*
There is nothing which mankind are with so much difficulty brought to believe or assent to, as a religion, wherein the corruptions of their nature are condemned, and their sensual pleasures restrained and mortified, although it is a religion infinitely excellent in itself, and absolutely necessary to them. Skelton.
The very night before the Lady Jane Grey suffered death, she addressed the following exhortation to her beloved sister, the Lady Katherine Grey in a letter written at the end of a Greek Testament. "I have here sent you, good sister Katherine, a book, which, though it be not outwardly trimmed with gold, yet inwardly it is more worth than precious stones. It is the book, dear sister, of the law of the Lord: it is his Testament and last will, which he bequeathed unto us wretches; which shall lead you to the path of eternal life." Progresses of Queen Elizabeth.
It is only our mortal duration that we measure by visible and measurable objects; and there is nothing mournful in the contemplation for one who knows that the Creator made him to be the image of his own eternity, and who feels, that in the desire for immortality, he has sure proof of bis capacity for it.—Sovithey.
ISLE OF WIGHT.
No. II. Carisbrooke Castle.
Among the fortresses of the Isle of Wight, Carisbrooke Castle claims the pre-eminence from its great antiquity, no less than from its having been that, in which the unhappy Charles, having first retired to it for refuge, was treacherously detained a prisoner by the parliament, from November 1647, to September in the following year.
The following account of an unsuccessful attempt, made by the unfortunate monarch to escape from the hands of those who were soon to be his murderers, may be interesting to our readers.
A faithful follower, of the name of Firebrace, having obtained permission to attend upon the king as one of his pages, made use of the opportunities this appointment afforded him, in consulting with Charles, and devising schemes by which his escape might be effected. Among other plans, Firebrace proposed his getting out of the chamber-window, and fearing the bars might render the passage too narrow, he proposed cutting them with a saw; but the king, objecting the danger of a discovery, commanded him to prepare all things else for his departure, being confident he could get through the window, having tried with his head, and judging that where the head could pass, the body would easily follow. The design was imparted to some trusty friends, and with them, the following plan of operation was agreed upon. At the time appointed, Firebrace was to throw something up against the window of the king's apartment, as a signal that all was clear, on which the king was to let himself down by a cord provided for that purpose; Firebrace was then, under favour of the darkness, to conduct him across the court to the main wall of the Castle, from which he was again to descend into the ditch, by means of another cord with a stick fastened across it, serving as a seat. Beyond this wall was the counterscarp, which being low, might easily be ascended, and near this place, two other friends, Worsley and Osborne, were to be ready mounted, having a spare horse, with pistols and boots, for the king, while a fourth, Mr. Newland, remained at the sea-side with a large boat, ready to convey his majesty wherever he should think fit to direct.
At the appointed time, aH things being in readiness, and every one instructed in his part, Firebrace gave the expected signal, on which the king attempted to get out of the window; but found, when it was too late, that he had been fatally mistaken; for, although he found an easy passage for his head, he stuck fast between the breast and shoulders, without the power of advancing or returning; but having the instant before mistrusted something of this nature, he had tied a piece of cord to the bar of the window, by the means of which he might force himself back again. Firebrace heard him groan, without being able to afford him the least assistance; however, the king at length, with much difficulty, having released himself from the window, placed a candle in it, as an intimation that his attempt was frustrated. Had not this unfortunate impediment occurred, there is the greatest reason to believe his escape might have been effected. Other attempts equally unsuccessful were afterwards made, which only tended to increase the rigour of the king's confinement "The final catastrophe," says Sir R. Worsley, from whom this account is taken, "is too well known to require a recital here: to say that the unhappy monarch was entirely blameless, might, perhaps, be deemed too bold an assertion; on the other hand, to judge of his character by revo