The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 10, No. 282, November 10, 1827. Various

The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 10, No. 282, November 10, 1827

Queenrid, consort of Offa, a cruel, ambitious, and blood-thirsty woman, who envied the retinue and splendour of the unsuspicious king, resolved in some manner to have him murdered, before he left their court, hoping by that to gain his immense riches; for this purpose she, with her malicious and fascinating arts, overcame the king—her husband, which she most cunningly effected, and, under deep disguises, laid open to him her portentous design; a villain was therefore hired, named Gimberd, who was to murder the innocent prince. The manner in which the heinous crime was effected was as cowardly as it was fatal: under the chair of state in which Ethelbert sat, a deep pit was dug; at the bottom of it was placed the murderer; the unfortunate king was then let through a trap-door into the pit; his fear overcame him so much, that he did not attempt resistance. Three months after this, Queenrid died, when circumstances convinced Offa of the innocence of Ethelbert; he therefore, to appease his guilt, built St. Alban's monastery, gave one-tenth part of his goods to the poor, and went in penance to Rome—where he gave to the Pope a penny for every house in his dominions, which were afterwards called Rome shot, or Peter's pence, and given by the inhabitants of England, &c. till 1533, when Henry VIII. shook off the authority of the Pope in this country.

T.C.

ARCANA OF SCIENCE

Black and White Swans

A few weeks since a black swan was killed by his white companions, in the neighbourhood of London. Of this extraordinary circumstance, an eye-witness gives the following account:—

I was walking, between four and five o'clock on Saturday afternoon, in the Regent's Park, when my attention was attracted by an unusual noise on the water, which I soon ascertained to arise from a furious attack made by two white swans on the solitary black one. The allied couple pursued with the greatest ferocity the unfortunate rara avis, and one of them succeeded in getting the neck of his enemy between his bill, and shaking it violently. The poor black with difficulty extricated himself from this murderous grasp, hurried on shore, tottered a few paces from the water's edge, and fell. His death appeared to be attended with great agony, stretching his neck in the air, fluttering his wings, and attempting to rise from the ground. At length, after about five minutes of suffering, he made a last effort to rise, and fell with outstretched neck and wings. One of the keepers came up at the moment, and found the poor bird dead. It is remarkable, that his foes never left the water in pursuit, but continued sailing up and down to the spot wherein their victim fell, with every feather on end, and apparently proud of their conquest.

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1

We thank our correspondent for the above communication on one of the most interesting phenomena of British geology; for, as we hinted in our last, the pleasantest hours of our sojourn at Margate, about three years since, were passed in the watchmaker's museum, nearly opposite the Marine Library, which collection contains many Sheppey fossils, especially a prawn, said to be the only one in England. We remember the proprietor to have been a self-educated man: he had been to the museum at Paris twice or thrice, and spoke in high terms of the courteous reception he met with from M Cuvier; and we are happy to corroborate his representations. With respect to the reptile, or, as we should say, insect, alluded to in the preceding letter, we suppose it to have been a vermicular insect, similar to those inhabiting the cells of corallines, of whose tiny labours, in the formation of coral islands, we quoted a spirited poetical description in No. 279 of the MIRROR. Corallines much resemble fossil or petrified wood; and we recollect to have received from the landlady of an inn at Portsmouth a small branch of fossil wood, which she asserted to be coral, and that upon the authority of scores of her visiters; but the fibres, &c. of the wood were too evident to admit of a dispute.

2

"Which, like a wounded snake, drags its slow length along"—POPE.

3

It is, indeed, difficult to avoid one, call it what you will, and quite as difficult to find a more absurd name than that adopted, unless, indeed, (why the machine goes but five miles an hour,) it is called a diligence from not being diligent, as the speaker of our House of Commons may be so designated from not speaking. It consists of three bodies, carries eighteen inside, and is not unfrequently drawn by nine horses. A cavalry charge, therefore, could scarcely make more noise. Hence, and from the other circumstance, its association in the second stanza with the triune sonorous Cerberus. A diligence indeed!

4

The intrusive garrulity of French waiters at dinner is notorious.

5

This "sea Mediterranean" is a most filthy, fetid, uncovered gutter, running down the middle of the most, even of the best streets, and with which every merciless Jehu most liberally bespatters the unhappy pedestrian. Truly la belle nation has little idea of decency, or there would be subterranean sewers like ours.

6

French houses are cleaner even than ours externally, being all neatly whitewashed! mais le dedans! le dedans!

7

The servants are as notorious for their incivility as for their intrusive loquacity.

8

As Scott well observes in the introduction to Waverley, "the word comfortable is peculiar to the English language." The thing is certainly peculiar to us, if the word is not.

9

All the tragedies are in rhyme, and that of the very worst description for elocutionary effect. It is the anapestic, like, as Hannah More remarks, "A cobbler there was, and he lived in a stall!"

10

It is scarcely necessary to remark, that the absurdity (exploded in England at the Reformation) of a Latin liturgy still obtains in France.

11

The Palais Royal! that pandemonium of profligacy! whose gaming tables have eternally ruined so many of our countrymen! So many, that he who, unwarned by their sad experience, plays at them, is—is he not?—"complete ass."

12

There are none, even in the leading streets; our ambassador's, for instance.

13

As the Etoile lately translated John Bull. "When John's no longer chamber-maid." Of the propria quæ maribus of French domestic economy, this is not the least amusing feature. At my hotel (in Rue St. Honoré) there was a he bed-maker; and I do believe the anomalous animal is not uncommon.

"When printed well a book is."

Both paper and types are very inferior to ours. But that I respect the editor's modesty, I would say it were not easy to find a periodical in Paris, at once so handsomely and economically got up as—this MIRROR.

14

See MIRROR, vol. 8, page 296.

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