Such was the tale told me by the unhappy man—­wonderful certainly in its circumstances, but widely different from the terrific chaos of the popular belief, and simple in its incidents, compared to the incantations with which the apparitions of the tremendous visitant were invested by the people.

I would have questioned him more particularly, but our interview was interrupted by the arrival of the ecclesiastical procession, and I was obliged to leave the prison.  After the clergy, all but one, who remained with him to the last, had left him, nobody was admitted.  The crowd, however, round the scaffold continued all day to increase, and the bells to toll.  At last the sun set, the guards lighted their torches, and only the black scaffold and the upturned faces of the multitude were visible from where I stood.  The prison gate was soon after opened; the culprit, wrapped in a winding sheet, came forth, attended by the municipal officers, and proceeded with the funereal sound of trumpets to the dreadful spot where the two executioners, with their arms and throats bare, lifted a covering from the rack, and took their stations beside it, holding the handspikes, for turning the rending wheels, like muskets, on their shoulders.  The moment that Mavrovitch mounted the scaffold, the trumpets and the tolling bells ceased; all was silent, and he walked with a firm tread towards the engine of torture.  The executioners stepped forward, each took him by the arm.  At the same moment a wild shriek rose; but what ensued is so well known, that I may spare myself from further recital.—­New Mon.  Mag.—­(abridged.)

* * * * *

THE TOPOGRAPHER.

* * * * *

MONMOUTHSHIRE.

(For the Mirror.)

  Soon round us spread the hill and dales
  Where Geoffrey spun his magic tales
  And call’d them history.  The land
  Whence Arthur sprung, and all his band
  Of gallant knights.

  BLOOMFIELD’S BANKS OF WYE.

This county, the inland parts of which consist of verdant meadow or arable land, is bounded on all sides excepting that which joins the Severn, by ranges of hills which have generally either been covered with woods or devoted to the feeding of cattle.  The southern or Severn side presents to the view well cultivated lands, gently rising from the shore.

Monmouth, the capital town, is situated at the confluence of the Wye and Munnow, “in a vale,” says Gray, “which is the delight of my eyes, and the very seat of pleasure.”  It is surrounded on all sides by hills, which by affording the lowlands shelter from the bleak winds, promote vegetation, and present a beautiful prospect of hanging woods, interspersed with corn and pasture land.