The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 12, No. 347, December 20, 1828. Various

to obscure these nobler qualities of his mind, and as he rose, he became haughty and overbearing. His character has been obscured by the envy and partiality of his contemporaries, who have generally endeavoured to load his memory with reproaches. "This Cardinall," says Holinshed, "was of great stomach, for he compted himselfe equall with princes, and by craftie suggestion got into his hands innumerable treasure; he forced little on simonie, and was not pittiful, and stood affectionate in his owne opinion; in open presence he would lie and saie vntruth, and was double both in speech and meaning; he would promise much and performe little; he was vicious of his bodie, and gaue the clergy euill example; he hated sore the Citie of London and feared it. It was told him that he should die in the waie toward London, wherefore he feared lest the commons of the citie would arise in riotous maner and so slaie him, yet for all that he died in the waie toward London, carrieng more with him out of the worlde than he brought into it, namellie, a winding sheete, besides other necessaries thought meet for a dead man, as a Christian comelinesse required."6

      The remains of the Cardinal were interred in the Abbey Church at Leicester, after having been viewed by the Mayor and Corporation, (for the prevention of false rumours,) and were attended to the grave by the Abbot and all the brethren. This last ceremony was performed by torchlight, the canons singing dirges, and offering orisons, at between four and five o'clock of the morning, on St. Andrew's Day, November the 30th, 1530.

      Leicester Abbey was founded (according to Leland) 7 in the year 1143, in the reign of King Stephen, by Robert Bossue, Earl of Leicester, for black canons of the order of St. Augustine, and was dedicated to the Virgin Mary. It is situated in a pleasant meadow, to the north of the town, watered by the river Soar, whence it acquired the name of St. Mary de Pratis, or de la Pré. This monastery was richly endowed with lands in thirty-six of the neighbouring parishes, besides various possessions in other counties, and enjoyed considerable privileges and immunities. Bossue, with the consent of Lady Amicia, his wife, became a canon regular in his own foundation, in expiation of his rebellious conduct towards his sovereign, and particularly for the injuries which he had thereby brought upon the "goodly towne of Leycestre." At the dissolution of the monasteries by Henry VIII. the revenues of this house were valued according to Speed at £1062. 0s. 4d., Dugdale says £951. 14s. 5d.; and its site was granted in the 4th of Edward VI. to William, Marquess of Northampton.8

      S.I.B.

      ANCIENT OATHS

      (To the Editor of the Mirror.)

      It will be recollected, that in a former volume I gave you the form of the oath taken by the appellee in the ancient manner of trial by battle. The appellee, when appealed of felony, pleads not guilty and throws down his glove, and declares he will defend the same by his body; the appellant takes up the glove, and replies that he is ready to make good the appeal body for body; and thereupon the appellee, taking the book in his right hand, makes oath as before mentioned. To which the appellant replies, holding the Bible and his antagonist's hand in the same manner as the other, "Hear this, O man, whom I hold by the hand, who callest thyself Thomas by the name of baptism, that thou art perjured; and therefore perjured, because that thou feloniously didst murder my father, William by name. So help me God and the Saints, and this I will prove against thee by my body, as this court shall award." And then the combat proceeds.

      There is a striking resemblance between this process and that of the court of Arcopagus, at Athens, for murder, where the prisoner and prosecutor were both sworn in the most solemn manner—the prosecutor, that he was related to the deceased, (for none but near relations were permitted to prosecute in that court,) and that the prisoner was the cause of his death; the prisoner, that he was innocent of the charge against him.

      In time I hope to be able to furnish you with other specimens of our curious ancient oaths.

      W.H.H.

      SONNET

      (For the Mirror.)

      Whose heart is not delighted at the sound

      Of rural song, of Nature's melody,

      When hills and dales with harmony rebound,

      While Echo spreads the pleasing strains around,

      Awak'ning pure and heartfelt sympathy!

      Perchance on some rude rock the minstrel stands,

      While his pleased hearers wait entranced around;

      Behold him touch the chords with fearless hands,

      Creating heav'nly joys from earthly sound.

      How many voices in the chorus rise,

      And artless notes renew the failing strains;

      The honest boor his vocal talent tries,

      Approving love beams from his "fair one's eyes,"

      While age, in silent joy, forgets its pains.

      J.J.

      THE DEATH OF SALADIN. 9

      (For the Mirror.)

      The angel of death hath too surely prest

      His fatal sign on the warrior's breast—

      Quench'd is the light of the eagle-eye,

      And the nervous limbs rest languidly—

      The eloquent tongue is silent and still,

      The deep clear voice again may not chill

      The hearers' hearts with its own deep thrill.

      Ah, who can gaze on death, nor inward feel

      A creeping horror through the bosom steal,

      Like one who stands upon a precipice,

      And sees below a mangled sacrifice,

      Feeling that he himself must ere long fall,

      With none to save him, none to hear his call,

      Or wrest him from the agonizing thrall?

      And yet it is but sleep we look upon!

      But in that sleep from which the life is gone

      Sinks the proud Saladin, Egyptia's lord.

      His faith's firm champion, and his Prophet's sword;

      Not e'en the red cross knights withstand his pow'r,

      But, sorrowing, mark the Moslem's triumph hour,

      And the pale crescent float from Salem's tow'r.

      As the keen arrow, hurl'd with giant-might,

      Rends the thin air in its impetuous flight,

      But being spent on earth innoxious lies,

      E'en its track vanish'd from the yielding skies—

      So lies the soldan, stopp'd his bright career,

      His vanquish'd realms their prostrate heads uprear,

      And coward kings forget their servile fear.

      Ere yet stern Azrael10 cut the thread of life,

      While Death and Nature wag'd unequal strife,

      Spoke the expiring hero:—"Hither stand,

      Receive your dying sovereign's last command.

      When that the spirit from my frame is riven,

      (Oh, gracious Alla! be my sins forgiven,

      And bright-eyed Houris waft my soul to heaven,)

      Then when you bear me to my last retreat,

      Let not the mourners howl along the street—

      Let not my soldiers in the train be seen,

      Nor banners float, nor lance or sabre

6

Holinshed's "Chronicle," vol. iii. p. 765, edit. 1808.

7

"Collectanea," vol i. p. 70.

8

Tanner.

9

For the particulars of which, see Knolle's "history of the Turks."

10

Azrael, in the Mahometan creed, the angel of death.