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Chain**— The Right Hon.'LORD BROUGHAM, P.R.S., Member of the National Institute of France. 
* VtipCh ain +m JOHN WOOD, Esq. 
' ISami* WttlJAM fOttfe. Esq., F.R.S. 

W. Allen, Esq., F.R. lnd R.A.9. 
Captain Beaufort, R.N., F.R. and R.A.8., 
Hydrographer to the Admiralty. 

0. Barrows, M.D. 

Peter SUfford Carey, Esq.. A.M. 

William Coulson, Esq. 

R. D. Craig, Esq. 

J. P. Davie, Esq., P.R.8. 

H. T. Dela Beche. Esq., F.R.S. 

The Right Hon. Lord Denman. 

Ham ael Duckworth, Esq., M.P. 1 

B. P. Duppa, Esq. 

The Right Rev. the Bishop of Durham, D.D. 

The Right Hon. Viscount Ebrtngton, M.P. 

8lr Henry Kills. Prln. Lib. Brit. Mm. 

T. P. F.llli. Esq., A.M., F.R.A.8. 

John EIHouon, M.D.. F.R.8. 

George Evans, Esq. 

Thomas Falconer, Esq. "5 

1. L. Goldsmld, Esq., P.R* and R.A.8. 

B. Gompertt, Esq., P.R. and R.A.8. 

G. B. Greenough, Esq., F.R. and L.S, 

M. D. Hill, Esq. 

Rowland Hill, Esq., P.R.A.8. 

Right Hon. Sir J. C. Hobhonae, Bart* M.P. 

Darld Jardine, Esq., A.M. 

Henry B. Ker, Esq. 

Thomas Hewitt Key, Esq., A.M. \ 

J. T. Leader, Esq.. M.P. 

George C. Lewis, Esq., AM. 

Thomas Henry Lister, Esq* 

James Loch, Esq., M.P., F.G.S. 

George Long, Esq., A.M. 


Sir Frederick Madden. K.C.H. 

H. Maiden, Esq. A.M. 

A. T. Malkln, Esq- A.M. 

James Manning, Enq. 

J. Herman Merirale. Esq., A.M.. P.A.8. 

Sir William MoieswOrth, Bart.. MP. 

R. I. Murohison, Esq., F.R.&. F.G.S. 

The Right Hon. Lord Nugent. 

W. H. Ord, Esq., M.P. 

The Right Hon. Sir Henry Parnell/Bt, M.P. 

Dr. Roget, Sec. R.S., F.R.A.S. 

Edward RomiUy, Esq., A.M. 

The Right Hon. Lord John RosseH, M.P. 

Sir M. A. Shee, P.R. A., P.R. 8. 

John Abel Smith, Esq., M.P. 

The Right Hon. Earl Spencer. ] 

John Taylor, Esq. F.R.S. 

Dr. A. T. Thomson, P.L.S. 

Thomas Vardon, Esq. . 

H. Waymouth, Esq. 

J. Whlshaw, Esq., A.M., P.R.8. 

John Wrottesler, Esq.. A.M., F.R.A.S/ 

Thomas Wyse, Esq., M.P. , 

J.A.Yates, Esq., MJ>.] 


Alton, Stafordshtre— Rer. J. P. Jones. 
Angleeea—ller. E. Williams. 
Rev. W. Johnson. 
Mr. Miller. 
Ashhurton—J. P. Kingston, Esq. 

Barnstaple. Bancraft, Esq. 

William Gribble, Eaq. 
Bel/tut— Dr. Drummond. 
lUtston—Rvv. W. Leigh. 
Birmingham — J.Corrie,Esq.F.R-8. Chairman. 

Paul Moon James, Esq., Treasurer. \ 
Bridpurt— Wm. Forster, Esq. 

James Williams, Esq. 
Bristol— J. N. Sanders, Esq.. Chairman: 
J. Reynolds. Esq., Treasurer. 
J. R. Estlln, Esq., F.L.S., Secretary. 
Calcutta— Sir B. H. Malkin. 
James Young. Esq. 
C. H. Cameron. Esq. 
Cambridge— Rer. James Rowstead, M.A. 
Rer. Prof. Henslow, M.A., F.L.S.&G.S. 
Rer. Leonard Jenyns, M.A., F.L.S. 
Rer. John Lodge, M.A. 
Rer. Geo. Peacock, M.A., P.R.S.& O.S. 
Robert W. Rothman,Esq.,M.A.,F.R,A.S. 

Rer. Prof. Sedgwick. M.A., P.R.8.& G.S. 
Rer. C. Thirl wall, M.A. 
Canterbury— John Brent, Esq., Alderman. 

William Masters. Esq. 
Canton— Wm. Jardine, Esq., President. 
Robert Inglls, Esq., Treasurer. 
Rer. C. Bridgman, ) 
Rer. C. Gutxlaff, {Secretaries. 
J. R. Morrison, Esq., J 
Cardigan— Rev. J. Black well, M.A. 
Carlisle— Thomaa Barnes, M.D„ F.R.8.E. 
Carnarvon— R. A. Poole, Esq. 

William Roberta, Esq. 
Chester— Hayes Lyon, Esq, 

Henry Potts, Esq. 
Chichester— John Forbes, M.D., F.R.S. 

C. C. Dendy, Esq. 
Coekermouth— Rer. J. Whltrldge. 
Corfu— John Crawford. Esq. 

Mr. Plato Petrldes 
Covtmtry— Arthur Gregory, Esq. 
Uenhifrh — John Mndocks, Esq. 
Thomas Krans, Esq. 

Derby — Joseph 8trutt, Esq. 

Edward Strutt, Esq.. M.P. 
Devonport and Stonehouse— John Cole, Esq. 

— Norman, Ksq. 

Lt.Col. C. Hamilton Smith, F.R.S. 
Dublin— T. Drummond, Esq. R.E., F.R.A.S. 
Edinburgh— Sir C. Bell, F.R.S.L. and E. 
Btruria— Jos. Wedgwood, Esq. 
Exeter— J. Tyrrell. Esq. 

John Mil ford, Esq. (Conner.) 
Qlamorgansfiire— Dr. Malkln, Cowbrldge. 

W. Williams, Esq., Aberpergwra. 
Glasgow — K. Fin I ay, Esq. 

Professor Mylne. 

Alexander McGrigor, Esq. 

Charles Teonsnt. Esq. 

James Cowper, Esq. 
truernsey— P. C. Lukls, Esq. 
Hull— J. C. Parker, Esq. 
Keighley, Yorkshire— Her. T. Dory, M.A. 
Leamington Spa — Dr. Loudon, M.D. 
Leeds— J. Marshall, Esq. 
Lewes— J. W. Woollgar, Esq. 
Lhnerich—'Wm. Smith O'Brien, Esq., M.P. 
Liverpool Loc. As.—W. W. Currle, Esq. Ch. 

J. Mulleneuz, Eaq., Treasurer. 

Rer. Dr. Shepherd. 
Ludlow— T. A. Knight, Esq., P.H.S. 
Maidenhead— R. Goolden, Esq., F.L.S. 
Maidstone— Clement T. Smyth, Esq. 

John Caae, Esq. 
Malmesbury—B. C. Thomas, Esq. 
Manchester Loc. As.—G. W. Wood, Esq., Ch. 

Benjamin Heywood. Esq., Treasurer. 

T. W. Wlnstanley, Esq., Hon. Sec. 

8lr G. Philips, Bart, M.P. 

BenJ. Gott, Esq. 
Masham—Rer. Geonre Waddiogton, M JL ' 
Merthyr Tydoil—J. J. Guest, Esq. 
Minchinhamp ton— John G. Ball, Esq. 
Monmouth— J. H. Moggridge, Esq. 
Neath— John Rowland, Esq. 
Newcastle— Rer. W. Turner. 

T. Sopwith, Esq.. F.G.S. 
Newport, Isle of Wight— Ab. Clarke, Eaq. 

T. Cooke, Jun.. Esq. 

R. G. Klrkpatrick, Esq. 
Newport PagneU— J. Millar, Esq. [ 

Newtown. Montgomeryshire— "W. Pugh . Esq. 
Norwich — Richard Bacon, Esq. 
Orsett, Esses— Dr. Corbett, M.D. 
Oxford— Dr. Daubeny, F.R.S. Prof, of Client. 
Rer. Prof. Powell. 
Rev. John Jordan, B.A. 
E, W. Head, Esq., M.A. 
Pesth, Hungary— Conot Sxecbenyl. 
Plymouth— H. Woollcorrtfcre, Esq., K.A -*,, Ck. 
Snow Harrla, Esq.. F.R.S. 
E. Moore, M.D., P.L.S., Secretary. 
G. Wightwick, Esq. 
Presteign— Dr. A. W. Darls, M.D. 
Mpon—Rer. H. P. Hamilton, M.A., F.R.S. 
and G.S. 
Rev. P. Ewart, M.A. 
Ruthin— Rer. the Warden of 
Humphreys Jones, Esq. 
Ryde, J. of tH*Tht—$\r Rd. Simeon, Bt. * 
Salisbury— Rer. J. Barfitt. 
Sheffield— J- H. Abrahams, Esq. 
Shepton Mallet— Q. P. Burroughs. Esq. 
Shrewsbury-R. A.Slaney. Esq., M.P. 
South Pether ton— John Nlcholetts, Esq. 
St. Asaph— Rer. George Strong. 
Stockport— H. Marsland, Esq., Treasurer. 

Henry Coppock. Esq., Secretary. 
Sydney. New South Wales — 

William M. Manning, Esq. 
Tavistock— Rer. W. Evans. 

John Rundle, Esq. 
Truro— Richard Taunton, M.D., P.R.S 

Henry Sewell Stokes, Esq. 
Tunhridge Wells— Dr. Yeats, M.D 
Vttoseter— Robert Blurton, Esq. 
R^orwA— Dr. Conully. 

The Rev. William Field, (/ ea—inaf"*.) 
Watorftnrd —S\r John Newport, lit. 
Wolverhampton— J . Pearson, Esq. 
Worcester— Dr. Hastings, M.D. 

C. H. Hebb, Esq. 
Wresfham— Thomas Edgworth, K-o. 

J. E. Bowman, Esq., F.L.S., Treasurer 
Major William Lloyd. 
Yarmouth— C. E. Rumbold, Esq. 

Dawson Turner, Esq. 
For*— Rev. J. Kenrlck, M.A. 

J. Phillips, Esq., F.R.6* F.G.S." 

fHOMA8 COATE3, Esq., Secretary, No. W, Lincoln's Inn Fields, 

Uardoh : Printed by WaLtan Clowh and Sons* Stamford 6t*eV 

Digitized by 



Ajsxxsbbb*, grotto oC 11-13 

Albany, account of the city of,? in the 

state of New York, 169 
Alderney, island of* some account of 

the. 383 
Alemtejo, province of, in the Penin- 

American Forests, general description 

of. 454 ; fires in, occasioned by the 

settlers, 406 
An tar, an Arabian Romance, account 

of. 55 
Apple paring, custom of, in America, 

description of, 4S6 
Artisans, development of Intellectual 

tastes amongst, 483 
Attainments, desirable objects of, 343 
Australia, emigration to, 372 
Automaton Chess-player, account ot, 38*. city et account of the. 385 
Baltic, change of the water level in the, 

Barcelona, city of, account of the, 471 

Boars, smgadty of the northern, 375; 

bear, black, anecdotes of, 14 
Bear hunting in Lithuania, 17 
Beggar* and Begging in America, 329 
Belem Castle, description of, 257 
Berlin, manners and mode of living in, 

Birds, on the wings and tails of, 13S, 

154. 180 
Births and Deaths, registration of, in 

the Prussian States. 395 
Blind, education for the, 363 
Bookselling, early history of, 359 
Breathing, quantity of air employed in, 

Buffalo, town of. in America, rapid 

growth of it and other American 

towns, 85 
Bull Hunt in Poland ; bull-hunting in 

the Peninsula, 104 

Cjbsar, Julius, landing of, in England, 

Cairo, curious ceremony at, 47 

Canton, Ophthalmic Hospital at. in* 
■tituted by an American physician, 
account ot 363 

Canute and his Courtiers, 376 

Caripe, cavern of, in the province of 
Cumaoa, visit to, account of. 354,365 

Carriages, primitive, sketch or the ori- 
gin of. 375 

Cat, the wild, natural history of, 60 

Cavaliero. adventures of. in Egypt and 
Syria, 90, 108, 910, 332 

Channel Islands, history and descrip- 
tion of -the. 339—336 ; 337—364 

Chinchilla, the natural historv of, 297 , 

Chrppeway Indians on the banks of 
the St. Clair, 153 

Cicada Septendecim, account of the. 87 

Clairvaulx, a visit to, 238 

Climate of Canada and the United 
Stales, peculiarities of, 358 

Coati, the, natural history of, 7 

Constantinople, prisons of, 438; chari- 
table establishments at, 496 

Copyright, extract from a speech of Mr. 
Serjeant Talfourd on the law of, 235 

Coram, Captain Thomas, the founder 
of the Foundling Hospital, account 
of. 479 

Cornaro, the modern, account of. 368 

Crab, the, natural and commercial his- 
tory ot 324 

Cuckoo, account of a young, 475 

Deaf and Dumb, education of the, 386 
Dean, the forest of, account of, 215, 218 
Design, school ot 230 
Diet, essays on. 135. 143, 148, 159 
Dinotherium, the, account of the fossil 

remains of, 195 
Diseases, and the duration of sickness, 


Dog, reasoning in 
Douro, the river, 

description of, 435 

Eeowoinr. English, comparison of with 
mat of America, 5 

Education, extract from Dord Broug- 
ham's speech on. 315 

Efts, consumption of, 399 

Egyptian Death Judgment, ancient, 


Brrpt aid Syria, adventure* of Cava- 
litio in, 90, 103, 810, 833 

Elvas, city of, account of the, 316, 344, 

Bugelbert of Nassau* and his tomb at 

Breda. 353 
English Lakes, descriptive tours of the, 

8*1—348; 389—296 
English Orders of Knighthood. 78 
Epee, abbe de 1*, account of, -386 

Factosjks, principles which determine 
the hours of work in, 478 

Fishxrixs. Bkitish, the Herring, 43— 
46 ; mode of taking and curing, 51 — 
54; commerce in, 61 — 64; the Pil- 
chard. 68 — 69; commercial history 
of, 81— 84; the Sprat. 97 ; the Mac- 
kerel, 108—1 10 ; its commercial his- 
tory, 123—135; the Salmon. 144— 
148 ; various modes of fishing for, 172 
— 175{ commercial history of, 189; 
the Shrimp, 217: the Oyster, 235— 
838; the Crab, 324—326; the Tur- 
bot.391; the Mullet, 465 

Fishing in North America, by Indians 
and settlers, 193. 309 

Fishing, Trout, iu the Backwoods, 340 

Fish poisoning in the West Indies, 370 

Food* supply of large capitals with, 1, 
9. 19, 30 

Forest, the New, account of, 266 

Forests of America, 454 ; fires in the, 

Forests, and meadow and pasture land 
in Europe. 35*i 

Forests of the Peninsula, 364 

France, savages in, 221 

Fur-trading with the Indians of North 
America, 803 

Gat.onooow. volcano of, in Javn, erup- 
tion of the. 431 
Gardening, pleasures of, 337 
Geographical knowledge, progress of. 

Geography, study of, and topography. 

Glasgow, Royal Exchunge of, account 

of, 361; new Broomielaw Bridiro of, 

Glutton, the. natural history of. 17 
Gnu. the, natural history of, 433 
Goldberg, in Silesia, celebration of 

Christmas at. 451 
Grebes, the, natural history of, 218 
Groden. wood curving at, 107 
Guernsey, island of, description of the, 

Gutenberg, statue of, at Mayence, 501 ; 

bas-reliefs of, 504 

Herriho, the. natural and commercial 

history oC 43,51, 61 
Highlands of Scotland, descriptive 

tour in. 161—168; 201—208 . table 

of stages and distances in, 207, 208 
Hofer, Andrew, monument to, 56 
Houses, American manner of moving. 

67 * 

Icx-maxiko in Bengal. 107 
Idria, quicksilver mines at, 443 
Indian Summer, account of the, 363 
Indians of Guiana, adventure amongst 

the. 486 
Intellect, value of the, 134 * 
Jamaica, minerals in, 387 
Jerboa, the, natural history of, 413 
Jersey, account of, 329—336 

Knasksborotjor, dropping well of, 348 
Knighthood, orders of, 22—24; 70 ; 78 
Knighthood, Teutonic order of history 

or. 255 
Kyrie, Jthn, the ** Man of Ross," ac- 
count of, 428 

Labouxiko Classes, Improvement of 
the. 318 

Lakes, English, ncscriptrve tours of 
the, 241—248; 289-296 

Likes of North America, account of 
the, 330— 233 

Lawrence, Su. the river, 219 

Leech Fishery, 490 

Lindisfarn, or Holy Island, account of, 

Lisbon, Its characteristics, description 
of. &c, 263. 273. 285 

Lithuania, bear hnnting in. 37 

Loan Societies in the Metropolis, 818 

Loire Inferieur. peasants In the de- 
partment of the. 359 

Lb*M>*. Looktno-Glas* rot : its mu- 
nicipal regulations, 34—40; admi- 

nistration of justice, 49—51 ; Central 
Criminal Court, 58—60; the Law 
Courts, 65— 67; legislation and go- 
vernment. 73—78; fire insurance, 
supply of water, gas, paving, sewer- 
age, &c, 89, 99; external and inter- 
nal communication, 113 — 120; inns, 
hotels, and public houses, 129; thar 
clubs, 137; the court, 157; court 
drawing-room*, 170; commerce, the 
Bank of England, 177; the Royal 
Exchange, 184; the river and port, 
327. 333; the docks. 351 ; trade in 
the "city," 260; at the * west-end." 
281; markets— Smithfield. Billings- 
gate, 307; Covent Garden, 331 ; ma- 
nufactures — Spitalfields and tbe Bo- 
rough, 393 1 Bermondsey and Tooley 
Street, 404 > public worship and edu- 
cational charities, 4 17 — 434 ; royal 
visits to the City of London, 438 ; fu- 
nerals and cemeteries, 444 ; the 
bridges, 449 ; Sir John Soane's House 
and Muss urn in Lincoln's Inn Fields, 
467—464 ; amusements— the theatres, 
473; Zoological Gardens, and na 
tioaal collections, 484 ; Public 
Walks— St. James's Park.499; I^on- 
don Extremes— Hyde Park and Rag 
Fair, 497, 500; Literature— Paternos 
ter How, 508 
Lyre-Bird, the. natural history of, 33 

Mackerki* the, natural and) commer- 
cial history of, 108 

Mnnvlukes, massacre of the, by Mo- 
hammed Ali. 225 

Manufactures, domestic: the factory 
system. Src. 94 

Menai, au island in the, account of, 

Mendicancy in Ireland, 477 

Miana, poisonous bugs of, 310 

Munreale. in Sicily, abbey of, account 
of, 249 

Mont) on, M. de, founder of the Society 
for the Public Reward of Merit. 369 

Mullet, the, natural and commercial 
history of, 465 

Mumming, account of, 471 

Museums, free admission of the public 
to, 46 

Napoi.sok's Wardrobe, 372 
Nature, adaptive powers of, 408 
Neptune, grotto 01, at Tivoli, 23 
Newspapers iu India and China, 299 
Nijnei Novgorod, the l.iir of, 125, 144 
North uruh-rland Peasantry, character- 
istics of.Ji 
Northumbrian Manners and Customs, 

Oymtxr, the. natural and commercial 
history of, 235 

Paris, markets of, 1, 9. 19, 30 

Peninsula. Sketches or the: Belem 
Cos lie, 257 ; Lisbon, 268 ; general 
appearance of Lisbon, 273, 285 ; 
Smuggling in the Peninsula, 300; 
the city of Elvas. 316; Market Place 
of, 344; Moorish Aqueduct in Elvas, 
345; Forest* of the Peninsula, 364 ; 
City of Badajoz, 385 1 the Province 
of Alemtejo, 396 ; the Douro, 425 \ 
Valley of Setubal. 441 » City of Bar 
celona, 471, 482 j Bull Hunting. 489 

Philosophical Experiments, account of 
some, easy to be performed. 191 

Physiological Facts, practical applica- 
tion of. 370 

Pigeon Roosts tn America, 4 

Pilgrims in the Desert. 305 

Podargus Papuensis, the, natural his- 
tory of, 105 

Portsmouth, description of, 140 

Post-Office, its extension and improve- 
ment, 377 

Printing in the 15th and in the 19th 
Centuries, 501—508 

Public Walks at Hull, 107 

Public Instruction-- the Charity-School 
System, 849 

Punishments, obsolete. 338 

QtjkbIC. account of, 219—821 ~ 
Quicksilver, mines at Idria, in Austria, 

Ramoossira, one of the mbted castes of 
India, account of, 388 

Reapers in the Pontine Marshes, ac- 
count of, 337 

Records, state of the. 19 

Rome, fountains at. 41 

Rosalia, Santa, festival of, account of. 

Ross, the Man of, account of, 428 

Royal Visits to the City of London 

Russia, account of the Baltic or Ger- 
man provinces of, 175. 182 

Salmon, the, natural and commercial 
history of, 144. 172, 189 

Scenery, lake and river, difference be- 
tween seeing, from land aud water. 

School Houses, state of, 43 

Scotland, descriptive tour iu the High- 
lands of. 161—168 : 201—208 

Sea, a month at : narrative of a voyage 
from New York to Liverpool, 898. 

Secret Societies, or Fraternities, ac- 
count of, 199 

Secret Tribunals of Westphalia, 339 

Selinuntum, now called Selinunte, ruins 
of. 84 

Serk, island of, account of the, 381 

Serpent-charming, account of, 150 

Setubal. the valley of. account of, 441 

Shakers, society of, iu tbe United States, 

Shrimp, the, natural and commercial 
histoiy of, 217 

Sicily— Festival of Santa Rosalia, ac- 
count of the, 409 

Silla de Caraccas, the, in South Ame- 
rica, ascents of, 403 

Singing Boys, press-warrant for. 43 

Skuuk, the. natural history oC 357 

Sleighs and Sleighing Frolics, 346 

Smuggling in the Peumsula, 300 

Speaking, extemporaneous, 3C3 

Sporting in Germany, *50 

Sprat, the, natural and commercial his- 
tory of, 97 

Squirrels, black and grey, anecdotes 
of, 265 

Stage Costume, history of, 107 

Soaue, Mr John, hou»e* and museum of, 
437— 464 

Statistics of Lunacy and Crime iu an 
Agricultural and a Manufacturing 
District, 351 

St. Petersburg, Ice Palace at, account 
of. 451 

Sutherland, mountains of, 168 

Tkkth, on the structure of the, 463, 475 
Teutouic Order of Knighthood, history 

of, 255 
Timber, manuer of conveying to niai 

Tivoli. grotto of Neptune at, 28 
Tours and Tourists, hints for and to, 

Tunis and Tripoli, 494 
Turbot, the, natural and commercial 

history of, 391 
Tyrol, valleys of Non and Sole in Che, 


Uicitsd Statis, observations ou the 
origin of names of places iu the, 493 

Useful Men, society for publishing 
memoirs and portraits of, 369 

Vxhtilatiok, of Houses, 54 
Victoria, her Majesty tho Queen, lineal 
descent of, 264 

Wakxs, country, account of. 31 1 
Walrus, the, natural history of, 313 
Wax. sealing, manufacture of, account 

of the, 435 
Weasel, the, daring and ferocity of. 127 
Weymouth, account of, 121 
Wheat, culture of. within the. Tropfo*, 

some description of, 386 
Wolf-catching in Norway, 47 
Wooden Houses, and the manner ot 

building them, in America, 437 
Wordsworth's " A Fact and au I magi* 
• nation," 376 

Wren, golden-crested, the. 487 
Writing, Implements of, in the East 


Yankee Pedlars, and Peddling in Ame- 
rica, 269 

Zoab, colony ct in tbe United tfmtet» 
account of the, 411 

Digitized by 




Tax Herbtwo. Pagt 

'3each at Yarmouth— Fishermen 
going oat • • 

herring— Clupea harcngus . 
Yarmouth Jetty— Herring Boats 
returned ..... 
, armouth Beach Cart > • • 

The Pilchard. 
Pilchard— Clupea pilchardui • 

Mount's Bay, Cornwall . • 

The Spbat. 
Sprat— Clupea iprattut . • 97 


Sprat Boat fishing off Purflcct on 
the Thames . 


The Mackerku 
Mackerel— Scomber scombrus . 108 
Mackerel Boats in the Bay of 
Hastings— Beachy Head in the 
Distance .... 109 

Dutch Auction— Fishermen selling 
Mackerel on the Beach at Hast- 
ings; . • . • .135 

Crew of a French Boat angling for 
Mackerel . . . .124 

' The Salmojt.1 

Salmon Spearing . • • 145 

Ova and Fry of Salmon • • 147 

Salmon — Salmo solar . • • 148 

Coleraine Salmon Leap on the 

Bann— Angling for Salmon . 172 

Stage and Stake Nets . . .173 

Spearing or Stream Fishing . 157 

The TdRBOT. Pa*. 

Fishing Boats off Scarborough • 393 

The Mullet. 
Fishing Boat off St. Alhan's Head 465 

Crustacea ahd Mollvsks. 
A Shrimper .... 317 
Oyste* Dredger . . 236 
Fleet of Oyster Boats . • .337 
Crab Fishing— Fishermen examin- 
ing their Creels or Crab-pots . 324 
Implements employed in Crab 
Fishing 325 


The Mansion House and City Po- 
lice 33 

Bow Street, and the Assembling 
of the Police .... 36 

The Old .Bailey— Sheriffs] going to 
the Court .... 49 

Westminster Hall and the Courts 
of Law 65 

Parliament Street — Procession to 
the Houses of Parliament • 73 

Back of Uio Horse Guards and the 
Admiralty .... 

Fish Street Hill, with procession 

, uf Firemen __ • • • .89 

Fleet Street— procession of Mail 

Coaches • • • 113 

Holborn and Omnibuses • . 116 
Bishopsgato Street and Short 

Stages ISO 

The Old Blue Boar, Holborn . 128 
Pall Mall and Club Houses . 136 

St. James's Street— procession on 

a State Drawing-room Day . 157 
The Bank of England . . 176 

The Royal Exchange • • .184 
The Custom House . . .299 
The River-" Upper Pool" . . 233 
Map of the River and Port . . 252 

The London Docks . . .953 
Ludgate Street, from St Paul's . 361 
Regent Street, from the Quadrant 381 
SmithGeld Cattle Market . . 308 
Covent Gardeu Market ; . .321 
High Street— Borough . . 353 
Tooley Street, with Dravs . . 405 
Chapel Royal, Whitehall . . 417 
Oxford Street— Sunday . . 420 
Chcapsidc — School Children going 

to St. Paul's . . . .424 
Triumphal Arch at the Queen's 

Palace . . . • .440 

The' Strand, and Funeral Pro- 
cession 444 

London, from the York Column . 449 
Exterior of Sir John Soane's House 

in Lincoln's Inn Fields . . 457 
Interior of Sir John Soane's Mu- 
seum 461 

Coven t Garden Theatre , . 473 
Zoological Gardens, Regent's Park 4S4 
St. James's Park . . .492 

Hyde Park on Sunday , . 497 

Rag Fair 300 

Paternoster Row . • ,508 

Bclera Castle "7 7 • .25' 
Lisbon— Convent of St. Vincent di 

Fora 2G9 

Praya do Commercio • 873 

Smuggling— Contrubandistaa * • 300 


Elras, Praca or Square 

Marketplace . 

Moorish Aqueduct 

Cork Forest at Moira . 

317|Ca*tlc of Badajos 

# . 

. 3851 Palace of Barcelona . . .472 

344 Gathering Olives 

345 St. Joao da Fox . 


. 397 

Barcelona— Church of Santa Maiii 

. • 

. 425 

del Mar . . . .481 

364 ValloyofSetubal 


. 441 

Wild Bull Hunting . . . 4tt9 

View of Gleneoe ^ 


161 I Distant View of Loch Awo 


I View of Loch Katrine— The TtO- I 
sachs 301 

View of Loch LeTen 


View'of Dcrwent'Waler ; 


241 I View of Windermere , 

244 1 

Skidd aw, 

from Lake Derwent 


Fall an the Brook which runs from 
Sty Head Tarn . . .293 


T»t»«Tv_ViPw of Fort Revent . 329 I Jersey— St. Brelade's Church . 333 I Guernsey— Town and Harbour I Ssnic— The Con pre Rock 
lf!!!L MorTt Orguiel Ca7tle-1 GuEa*sKY-Castle Cornet, St. of St. Peters Port . . . 890 AbDEunfr-Viev of . 

Women gathering Seaweed . 332 | Peter's Port .... 377 | I 

, 381 
, 384 

The Coati-mondi . • • 8 

The Glutton and Rein Deer . 17 

The Wild Cat . . . .60 
The Male and Female Lyre-Bird 92 

The Podargns Papuensis . . 105 

Bones of the Wings of Birds . 132 

Wing of the Common Bait*rd . 133 


Wing of a Curlew 

Winns of Sparrow. Grosbeak, and 

Chaffinch . • • • 155 
Wing of the Magpie , . . 155 
Wing of the Jacaua . . .1^5 
Tails of Birds . . 180,181,182 

133 Professor Kaup's restoration of Pi- 
noilrerium Gigantcura 

Skull of Pitiotheriuin. discovered 

in 1836 


Foot of the Male-eared Grebe 

Biaek and Grey Squirrel* . . 265 
Male and Female Chinchillns with 
their Young .... 297 

Wnlruses 313 

The Skunk . . . . 357 

Jerboas 413 

Herd of Onus ... .433 


Paws— Marche"des Innocent • 1 

Marehe a la Volaflle . 9 

Market for butter, eggs, 

and cheese . • • • 20 

Fountain in the Place du 

Chatelet. .... 25 
View of the entrance of the Cavern 

of Adelsberg . . . . 12 
Grotto of the Maddalena at Adels- 
berg 13 

Falls oftheAnio at Tivoli • . 28 
Rome— Fountain of Paul V. • 48 
Ceremony of the Do*seh, or Tread- 
ing 48 

Monument to Andrew Hofer • 57 
Jolhir of the Order of the Garter . 72 
Collar of the Order of St. An- 

Collar of the Order of St. Patrick 80 
Ruins of Selinuntum • .84 
Landing of Julius Csasar in Eng- 
land 104 

WeymowUi—Bridfe and Church , 121 

Portsmouth— entrance to the Har- 
bour . . ' 

Lion Gate, Pomea . 

Indian Serpent Charmers . 
Scene on the River St Clair, 

Upper Canada 
Albany, State of New York . 

Gar rick as Macbeth . 
Stage Costume of Comus, In 1753 
of Mourning Bride 

I Sicily — Monastery of Monreaie , 249 

UOl Car of Santa Rosalia . 409 

141 1 Primitive Carriages— Cars of Por- 
152 1 tugal and Chile . . .276 
Ox Cart of 

in 1752 

Philosophical Experiments, figs. 1 

to8 . . . . 191. 
Chippeway Indians fishing on the 

River Thames, Upper Canada 
— fishi 

the Pampas 

- Welsh agri- 

. fishing in the 

ice— Lighthouse on the Shores 
of Lake Huron in the Distance . 209 

Cape Diamond and the Lower 
Town of Quebec . . .220 

Mohammed Ali witnessing the 
massacre of the Mamelukes . 225 

Map of the North American Lakes 


cultural Cart 
Anglo-Saxon Map of the 10th Cen- 

Ruins of the Priory of Lindisfarn . 284 
Portrait of the Abbe de l'Epee 
Pilgrims in the Desert . . 305 

Gleaners of the Pontiue Marshes . 337 
Obsolete Punishments — The Wood- 
en Horse .... 
The Drunk- 

ard's Cloak 

- The Whirli- 


gig . • . • . i 

Knaresborough— Dropping Well i 
Tomb of Engelbert of Nassau in 
the Cathednd Church of Breda 353 

Modern Egyptian Writing Case 
and Instruments . . 

Persian Instruments of Writing . 
Glasgow — Royal Exchange 
Broomielaw Bridge 


Montyon and Franklin 
Canute reproving his Flatterers . 
Ancient Egyptian Death Judg- 
ment am 

Scales . . 389 

Tyrol, ralley of the Noo . . 401 
Portrait of the •* Man of Ross " .428 
Ice Palace, St. Petersberf . . 459 
Ice Elephant and Fountain . 453 

Illustrations of the Structure^ of the 

Teeth, various figures . 468, 476 
Captain Thomas Coram, portrait 

of . . . . 48t 

Gutenberg, statue of, at Mayence • 501 
Bas-relief of Gutenberg— Examin- 
ing a Matrix . . . 504 

- Com pa r- 
ing a printed Sheet with MSV . 004 

Digitized by 




Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. 



[January 7, 1837. 


[Marche ties Inuocens, Pari*.] 

[The Series of Papers which we have announced on the Sotial 
Characteristic* of London, will be commenced with the next Sup- 
plement, and will be continued weekly. We have previously to 
dispose of a few article* connected with Paris, which would other- 
wise have interfered with the regular progress of the seriei of 
London, The following U one of these; — but we have taken 
occasion to make it the vehicle of some general information, 
which applies to matters common to both capitals.] 

The Marche des Innocens occupies the site of the 
ancient burial-ground of the church dedicated to the 
Vol. VI. 

Innocents, which was demolished about fifty years ago. 
Formerly it was not included within the walls of Paris, 
but it is now in the centre of the northern quarter ot 
the capital. The cemetery having been used as a depo- 
sitory for the dead for so long a period as 800 years, be- 
came, in consequence of the increase of the surrounding 
population, unfit for the numerous interments, though 
it was not until the practice. had been a subject of com' 
plaint for many years that the authorities determined 


Digitized by 



[January 7, 

upon its remedy. la 1786, however, the church was 
taken down, and men were employed during the night 
for the space of several months in removing the relics 
of the dead. The exhalations which ensued on opening 
the graves occasioned much disease in this populous 
quarter. When the work was completed, fresh earth was 
brought to the place, the vacant ground was paved, 
and it was converted into a market for fruit and vege- 
tables. In 1813 a wooden arcade or gallery was erected 
on each side of the market, for the convenience of the 
retail dealers who attend during the day. 

The fountain in the centre of the market was formerly 
placed at the angle formed by the Rue St. Denis and 
the Rue aux Fers, and having been executed in the year 
1551, in the best style of that day, is an interesting 
specimen of the sculpture of the sixteenth century. 
The parts were carefully taken down, and in the re- 
construction a fourth arcade was added, so as to give it 
a quadrangular form. The architect employed stone 
from the same quarry, and by intersecting the old 
pieces with the new, the general character and appear- 
ance of the whole was preserved. The Corinthian 
pilasters are surmounted by a pediment ornamented 
with naiads and bas-reliefs. The lions were placed at 
a subsequent period, and resemble those of the fountain 
of Termini at Rome. The cupola is covered with scales 
of copper. The height from the ground to the top of 
the cupola is forty-two feet. In the interior, on an 
elegant pedestal, is a large vase, from which the water 
ascends and falls into four large vessels, and from 
thence into the lower basin which surrounds the whole. 
A reference to the engraving will convey a better idea 
of the design than any description. 

Formerly each class of dealers and each neighbouring 
town had its particular market-place in Paris; but this 
was before trade and commerce began to be considered 
of much consequence, and such a useless regulation has 
long ago become obsolete. There are now a number 
of large and well-arranged markets in different parts of 
Paris. The Marche des I nnocens is the most important, 
from its situation in the midst of a dense population ; 
and it also covers the largest quantity of ground. 
Hence it is generally called the halle, by way of dis- 
tinction. There are several markets very near to the 
halle, and the Emperor Napoleon formed a design of 
uniting them in a square of above one hundred acres, 
which would have included the Halle aux Bles. The 
Marc he* des Innocens is clean and well regulated, and 
the same may be said of the other principal markets in 
Paris. The Marche a la Viande is perhaps the least so 
of any ; though, as the cattle markets are held at Sceaux 
and Poissy, both at the distance of several miles from 
Paris; and all cattle are slaughtered at the public abat- 
toirs in the outskirts of the capital, there is every circum- 
stance which can obviate such a state of things; except 
perhaps that meat is not so well adapted for sale in a 
public market open only at certain hours, but preserves 
its appearance, and is altogether better when brought at 
once from the slaughter-house to the butcher's 6hop. 

The late Mr. Walker, one of the police magistrates 
of London, in a pamphlet on the Poor Laws, published 
a few years ago, drew attention to the influence of 
badly-arranged places where great numbers assemble, 
on the classes who resort to them. Covent Garden 
Market, which was represented in Hogarth's print 
of 'Morning/ seventy years back, had long been a 
disgrace to the metropolis, and it is only within the 
last few years, and indeed since Mr. Walker's remarks 
were published, that it has undergone the improvements 
of which such a place was susceptible. Mr. Walker's 
observations were as follows: — " It is to be wished that 
every portion of the labouring classes were too refined 
for the filth of Covent Garden, or the brutalities of 
SmithiielcL The evil here lies in the bad contrivance 

and arrangement of these places of public concernment. 
It is surely a great error to spend nearly a million of 
money on a penitentiary, whilst the hotbeds of vice 
from which it is filled are wholly unattended to. What 
must necessarily be the moral state of the numerous 
class, constantly exposed to the changes of the weather, 
amidst the mud and putridities of Covent Garden ? 
What ought it to be where the occupation is amongst 
vegetables, fruits, and flowers, if there were well-regu- 
lated accommodations. As for Smithfield, it is only ne- 
cessary to witness its horrors during the night and 
morning of a market, to be convinced of its corrupting 
effects, and without witnessing, description can scarcely 
be adequate." Such improvements as the removal of 
the Fleet Market not only promote comfort, but have a 
real moral influence. There are still parts of the me- 
tropolis, which, owing to the want of a market, are 
crowded with a confused mass of buyers and sellers, in 
a manner both inconvenient and disagreeable. 

A visiter who sojourns at Paris for a few days only, 
as is the case with many of our countrymen, could take 
no better means of making himself acquainted with the 
appearance of the French peasantry, and the perfection 
and variety to which garden culture has attained in 
France, than by paying a visit to the Marche des 
Innocens. Saturday should be the day selected for 
this purpose ; the month of September is the season in 
which there is the greatest variety of fruit ; and from 
three o'clock in the morning till the opening of the 
market at four o'clock is the most interesting time. 
During the day the market is occupied by the women of 
the halle or town dealers, as the wholesale market is over 
in a few hours, and the country people have taken their 
departure before eight o'clock. The market then be- 
comes encumbered with refuse vegetables, and the ap- 
pearance is altogether different from that which it pre- 
sents when the business of the day commences. 

It is computed that 6000 peasants attend the Marche 
des Innocens every day, many of Whom come from a 
distance of thirty or forty miles. A London hairdresser, 
or a waiter at an hotel, does not greatly differ in ap- 
pearance from those who pursue a similar vocation in 
Paris; but the cultivator of the soil, or the country 
labourer, present peculiarities of manners and appear- 
ance which are not obliterated by the intercourse of 
capitals, and the light in which they are exhibited is 
more interesting to a stranger, ft will soon be evident, 
from the class of persons who attend the Marche* des 
Innocens, that the tenure of landed property in France 
is very different from that which prevails in England. 
Instead of the team of fine cattle, attended by the ser- 
vants of the market- gardener, who rents the well-culti- 
vated grounds in the neighbourhood of the capital, for 
which he can afford to pay the landowner an enormous 
rent, the produce is brought to the Paris market by the 
landowner himself, who, with his family, and perhaps a 
labourer, cultivate a few acres of some large estate 
which was divided at the Revolution, and sold as na- 
tional property. It is the great ambition of the middle 
and humbler classes in France to possess property in 
land, and it is accordingly cultivated in small patches 
by the proprietor. This is not the place for discussing 
the advantages or disadvantages of such a system, but 
its prevalence will strike the most indifferent observer 
who pays a visit to any great market in France*. The 
matt and his wife, and perhaps a son or daughter, set 
out with their produce in a covered cart on the previous 
afternoon, and travel during the night. From mid- 
night until the hour when the market opens, the arrivals 

* The * Penny Magasine,' No. 304, contain! a paragraph from 
M'Culloch's ' Statistical Account of the British Empire,' which 
will correct the erroneous notions entertained even by many most 
intelligent persons, that Uncled property in this country {9 pos- 
sessed only or chiefly ia large masses. 

Digitized by 




are incessant. During their absence one or two chil- 
dren, with their grandfather or grandmother, take care 
of the house, and attend to the garden, the live stock, 
and poultry. Many women ride to the market on 
horseback, with their produce contained in large pan- 
niers, leaving their husbands to pursue their labours. 
Neither the vehicles nor animals display thai peculiar 
neatness which distinguishes those which belong to an 
English market-gardener, but they have a certain pic- 
turesque air; and the wretched "set-out" of the cos : 
termonger is certainly not paralleled in the Paris 
market. About an hour before the commencement of 
business the scene is very peculiar and striking, and 
presents something like the appearance of a bivouac ; 
the men, wrapped in their coarse cloaks by the side of 
their hampers and panniers, endeavouring to snatch a 
few moments of sleep before business commences ; or 
groups of half-a-dozen, having banished all idea of re- 
pose, are enjoying the interval in conversation. When 
the market-bell rings at four o'clock a scene of great 
animation ensues; and in the early dawn, the women 
in their white and singular caps, suddenly aroused to a 
state of the greatest activity, and descanting with volu- 
bility on the excellence of their produce, form one of its 
most striking features. All the retail dealers in fruit 
and vegetables are in attendance, and many private 
families, whose consumption is large, send an expe- 
rienced servant to make purchases at this hour, as the 
open market is far more economical than the shop, and 
the choice much greater. The interest of the scene 
continues for two or three hours. 

The Parisians are more cheaply supplied with fruit 
and vegetables than the inhabitants of London. They 
live less substantially, but upon a greater variety of 
articles. The division of landed property conduces 
to this state of things, as the rearing of poultry, the 
cultivation of fruit and vegetables, is of more import- 
ance to the proprietor of a few acres than it is to 
a large tenant farmer. There is less encouragement 
to force fruit and vegetables to an early maturity in 
Paris than in London ; and there does not exist a class 
whose interest would consist in supplying an artificial 
luxury at a great cost. It is the object of the small 
cultivator to provide for the general consumption of the 
mass, and not requiring the aid of expensive artificial 
processes, he works with the assistance of nature, and 
employs art of a simpler and less expensive kind. 

In the * introductory Lectures on Political Economy/ 
by Dr. Whately, Archbishop of Dublin, there are some 
observations on the wonderful combination of exertions 
which are necessary to ensure the daily supplies of food 
for a large city ; and yet, as he remarks, " many of the 
most important objects are accomplished by the joint 
agency of persons who never think of them, nor have any 
idea of acting in concert ; and that, with a certainty, 
completeness, and regularity, which probably the most 
diligent benevolence, Under the guidance of the greatest 
human wisdom, could never have attained." This sub- 
ject is indeed one of great interest, and Dr. Whately is 
of opinion that u if the time should ever arrive when 
the structure of human society, and all the phenomena 
connected with it, shall be as well understood as astro- 
nomy and physiology, it will be regarded as exhibiting 
even more striking instances of Divine wisdom." It is 
by the efforts which each man makes for the advance- 
ment of his own interest that society is kept together, 
and the general weal promoted ; and if these efforts 
were relaxed, though only for a short space of time, 
the most frightful consequences would immediately 
ensue. The moral effects produced by the sudden 
fluctuation from abundance to scarcity and desolation, 
which is one of the most general consequences of war, 
were pointed out by Thucydides above 2000 years ago, 
in the following terms: — " In peace and prosperity (he 

says) men are better disposed, from their not being 
driven into distressing difficulties ; but war is a severe, 
instructor; and depriving them of the abundant supply 
of their daily wants, tends to make the moral character 
of the generality conformable to the existing state of 
things,." Thus public arrangements, which seem only 
to have reference to the general convenience, or are 
intendpd to facilitate some manual operation, while 
subservient to their most apparent end, exercise at the 
same time an influence on manners, morals, and the 
intellectual character. 

A New JSealander who visited England felt much 
curiosity as to the means by which London was sup- 
plied with provisions. The small degree of interest 
which is generally taken in subjects of this nature 
arises from the perfect regularity with which the wants 
of the population are met ; but if any irregularity were 
to take place in the supply for a single day, it would be 
felt as one of the most important which could present 
itself to the statesman and economist. Happily, this is 
a subject which, in this country, never forces itself upon 
the ruling power, so as to occasion it to step into the 
place which the general trader ought freely to occupy. 
The following extract from the * Lecture ' by Dr. Whately, 
to which allusion has been made, exhibits the import- 
ance of the question in an interesting point of view : 
— " Let any one," he says, u propose to himself the 
problem of supplying with daily provisions of all kinds 
such a city as our metropolis, containing above 1,000,000 
of iphabitants. Any considerable failure in the supply, 
even for a single day, might produce the most frightful 
distress; — since the spot on which they are cantoned 
produces absolutely nothing. Some, indeed, of the arti- 
cles consumed admit of being reserved in public or private 
stores for a considerable time ; but many, including most 
articles of animal food, and many of vegetable, are of the 
most perishable nature. As a deficient supply of these, 
even for a few days, would occasion great inconvenience, 
so a redundancy of them would produce a corresponding 
waste. Moreover, it is essential that the supplies should 
be distributed among the different quarters, so as to be 
brought almost to the doors of the inhabitants ; at least 
within such a distance that they may, without an in- 
convenient waste of time and labour, procure their daily 
shares. Moreover, whereas the supply of provisions 
for an army or garrison is comparatively uniform in 
kind, here the greatest possible variety is required, 
suitable to the wants of various classes of consumers. 
Again, this immense population is extremely fluctuating 
in numbers ; and the increase or diminution depends on 
causes, of which, though some may, others cannot, be 
distinctly foreseen. Lastly, and above all, the daily 
supplies of each article must be as nicely adjusted to 
the stock from which it is drawn — to the scanty, or 
more or less abundant, harvest — importation — or other 
source of supply — to the interval which is to elapse 
before a fresh stock can be furnished, and to the pro- 
bable abundance of the new supply, that as little distress 
as possible may be undergone ; — that, on the one hand, 
the population may not unnecessarily be put upon short 
allowance of any article, and that, on the other hand, 
they may be preserved from the more dreadful risk of 
famine, which would ensue from their continuing a free 
consumption when the store was insufficient to hold 

After remarking that the anxious toil of the most in- 
telligent commissaries would very inadequately dis- 
charge the office of supplying a large city with provi- 
sions, he shows that, through the agency of men who 
think each of nothing beyond their own immediate in- 
terest, the object is effected with cheerful zeal, and in 
the most successful manner. " Each of them," he 
adds, " watches attentively the demands of his neigh- 
bourhood, or of the market he frequents, for such com- 

B Z 

Digitized by 



[January 7, 

modities as he deals in. The apprehension, on the one 
hand, of not realizing- all the profit he might, and, on 
the other hand, of having his goods left on his hands, 
either by his laying in too large a stock, or by his rivals 
underselling him — these, acting like antagonist mus- 
cles, regulate the extent of his dealings, and the prices 
at which he buys and sells. An abundant supply 
causes him to lower his prices, and thus enables the 
public to enjoy that abundance, while he is guided only 
by (he apprehension of being undersold ; and, on the 
other hand, an actual or apprehended scarcity causes 
him to demand a higher price, or to keep back his 
goods in expectation of a rise. For doing this, corn- 
dealers in particular are often exposed to odium, as if 
they were the cause of the scarcity; while in reality 
they are performing the important service of husband- 
ing the supply in proportion to the deficiency, and thus 
warding off the calamity of famine ; in the same manner 
as the commander of a garrison or a ship regulates the 
allowances according to the stock and the time it is to 
last. But the dealers deserve neither censure for the 
scarcity which they are ignorantly supposed to produce, 
nor credit for the important public service which they 
in reality perform. They are merely occupied in gain- 
ing a fair livelihood." 

Fortunately London, in recent times, has never been 
placed in circumstances in which the daily supply of 
food^vas intermitted either by famine or by, perhaps, 
what is worse, domestic convulsions or the presence of 
a foreign enemy. During the revolution of 1789 Paris 
experienced the pressure of severe want, in consequence 
of the feelings of individual interest being damped and 
thrown out of their natural course by a variety of causes. 
The attempt to supply the spontaneous action of com- 
merce, which is alone the healthy and secure condition 
on which men will put forth their energies, was attended 
with enormous sacrifices, and led to regulations which, 
had they continued long in operation, would have ren- 
dered the country as miserable as Turkey, or as India 
under its native princes. Power and authority inter- 
fered to such an extent with private concerns, that the 
cultivation of the earth for any other purpose than that 
of supplying the cultivator's individual wants was on 
the point of becoming nugatory, as no advantages were 
in prospect as the reward of additional exertion. The 
* Histoire de la Revolution Francaise,' by M. Thiers, 
late the prime minister of France, contains many scat- 
tered details on this subject ; and at another time an 
article may not be inappropriately devoted to an ac- 
count of the state of things alluded to, the present 
notice forming an introduction which will render it 
more intelligible. 


[From a Correspondent.] 

The following particulars (communicated by a Cor- 
respondent) may be added to the account of the wild 
pigeons of North America, usually called the " Pas- 
senger Pigeons," given in No. 99 of the ' Penny Ma- 
gazine :' — 

There is an extensive district of country stretching 
eastward from the head waters of the Ohio, through the 
northern parts of the States of Pennsylvania and New 
York, which, from the major part of the forest-trees 
being beech, is known by the general appellation of 
" The Beechwoods." When there is a favourable 
season for the beech^tree bearing nuts, which is not 
always the case, the whole surface of the ground is 
strewn with them by the gales about the period when 
the early snows begin to fall. The beech-nuts remain 
beneath the snow unmolested during the whole winter; 
about the time when the influence of the spring causes 
them to vegetate, myriads of pigeons are attracted to 

that part of the country where they continue to sojourn, 
while this, their favourite food, is in tolerable abun- 
dance. In case the temptation is exceedingly strong-, 
the old birds will sometimes nest and breed again ; the 
place they select being generally along some ridge or 
eminence, where the branches of every tree become 
literally loaded with their rudely-constructed nests. 
When the time of incubation is over, the neighbouring 
settlers resort to the breeding-ground ; and as powder 
and shot are expensive articles in the Backwoods, the 
woodsman's favourite weapon — the axe — is called into 
operation ; such trees as are of a moderate thickness 
are hewn down, and hundreds of young and simple 
pigeons, some in the nests and others perched upon the 
branches, are brought to the ground. Bags and sacks 
are then put in requisition, and such as are of approved 
size are huddled by scores into those unsportsman-like 
receptacles ; whilst numbers of the rejected are left to 
perish by hunger, if they have unfortunately survived 
the concussion caused by the falling of the tree. When 
the parties get tired of " cutting down and picking up," 
and have got themselves and their horses (for many 
bring horses to those " pigeon frolics") pretty well loaded, 
they set out on an expedition of ** pigeon peddling" 
among such as have either no time or taste to engage 
in this rude and barbarous recreation. 

The breeding-ground is altogether distinct from the 
pigeon-roost; while the old ones are hatching their 
second broods, the young wanderers from the south are 
left to take care of themselves. Throughout the whole 
of the beechwoods there are low and swampy pieces 
of ground designated " Beaver Meadows." Those 
swamps, for the most part, are overgrown with tall 
coarse grass ; and around many of their margins grows 
a profusion of alder bushes, seldom attaining more than 
fifteen or twenty feet. Why or wherefore the pigeons 
select those bushes for their roosting- pi aces might be 
somewhat difficult to conceive, since the forest trees in 
the immediate vicinity would afford them much greater 
security ; but such is the case at present, and such it is 
known to have been. * 

Although the nests and their inhabitants are ex- 
ceedingly numerous in the forests where they breed, 
yet the number of pigeons that roost in one of those 
" alder-swamps" upon which they chance to fix as a 
rendezvous, surpasses all belief. There are thousands 
and tens of thousands, and in some cases hundreds of 
thousands! and they are therefore so closely stowed 
together that they support and rest upon each other. 
The assailants, instead of going armed with guns, or 
even with axes, carry a pretty long pole or club, and a 
few dry pine-knots, to light up when they get to the 
roosting place, not forgetting sacks wherein to deposit 
their victims. Having reached the pigeon-roost towards 
midnight, a light is struck, and the blaze of one or two 
of the pine-knots astonishes and confounds the un- 
suspecting occupiers of the branches over-head. They 
move to and fro, they flutter, but do not attempt to 
quit the bushes, seemingly determined to retain posses- 
sion of their roost ing-place regardless of consequences. 
While one person holds the torch the other is busily 
engaged in dealing destruction ; when in that particular 
place the ranks of the poor innocents seem somewhat 
thinned, the killed and wounded are placed promis- 
cuously in the sacks, and in some other part of the 
roost the former scene is reacted. 

Those torch-light excursions yield more than abun- 
dance to the adventurers; yet it generally happens 
that-they resort by daylight to the scene of their noc- 
turnal deeds, where they seldom fail to meet with scores 
of the dead and wounded birds they had overlooked in 
the hurry and darkness of the preceding night. It 
is exceedingly strange that among the thousands of 
pigeons taken in the manner here described, there 

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never happens, by any chance, to be any old birds! 
As soon as the second broods are capable of accom- 
panying their parents in their onward journey to the 
far regions of the north and west, they all as with 
one accord leave this section of country ; for by this 
time their favourite food— the beech-nuts — is quite 


(From the Rev. 0. Dewey's < Old and New World*. 9 ) 
I observed that a considerable number of passengers 
(on board a steam -boat) carried a comfortable pic- 
nic box or basket with them, and spread their own table. 
'With some, doubtless, this provision proceeded from a 
fastidious taste that feared some poisonous dirt would 
be found in the common fare of a steam-boat. But 
with many, I presume, it arose from a habit which 
presents a marked difference between the people of 
England and of America — I mean the habit of economy. 
In America we are ashamed of economy. It is this 
feeling which would forbid among us such a practice 
as that referred to, and not only this, but a great many 
more and better practices. In England economy stands 
out prominently ; it presides over the arrangements of 
a family ; it is openly professed, and fears no reproach. 
A man is not ashamed to say of a certain indulgence, 
that he cannot afford it. A gentleman says to you, 
•* I drive a pony-chaise this year; I have put down 
my horse and gig, because I cannot pay the tax." A 
man whose income and expences and style of living 
far exceed almost anything to be found amongst us, 
still says of something quite beyond him, which his 
wealthier neighbour does, *' We are not rich enough 
for that/' One of the most distinguished men in 
Europe said to me, when speaking of wines at his table, 
'* The wine I should prefer is claret, but I cannot afford 
it ; and so I drink my own gooseberry." I have heard 
that many families carry the principle so far, that they 
determine exactly how many dinners they can give in a 
year, and to how many guests; nay more, and how 
many dishes they can put upon the table when they do 

This frankness on the subject of economy is amongst 
us a thing almost unheard of. Not that we are more 
wealthy, but, as I conceive, less wise. The competition 
of domestic life among us is too keen to admit of any 
such confessions of internal weakness. We practise 
economy by stealth. Nor is that the worst of it ; for 
one consequence of this habit of feeling is, that we 
practise too -little. When a stranger looks upon the 
strife of business in our villages and cities, he imagines 
that he sees a very covetous people ; but a nearer ob- 
servation would show him that much of this eager and 
absorbing, and almost slavish, occupation, is necessary 
to sustain the heavy drains of domestic expenditure. It 
is extravagance at home that chains many a man to the 
counter and counting-room. And this extravagance is 
of his own choosing ; because he knows no other way 
of distinguishing himself but by the style of living. 
Would he but conceive that he might better elevate 
himself in society by having a well-read library, by 
improving his mind and conversation, by cultivating 
some graceful but comparatively cheap accomplishment, 
he might live a wiser man and die a richer. Who could 
hesitate to choose between such a family, and one whose 
house was rilled with gorgeous furniture; where the 
wife and daughters are dressed in the gayest of the 
fashion, and the husband and father banishes himself 
the live-long day, and half the night, from that pleasapt 
mansion, to toil and drudge in the dusty warehouse ? 
He sleeps in a very grand house ; he lives in a coun- 
ting-room ! 

* Mr. Dewey is an American. 


The superior condition of the agricultural labourers of 
Northumberland to that of the peasantry of the south 
of England is generally acknowledged. The fact has 
been attributed to a variety of causes — to the education 
and better information of the former class, to their 
habits of life, and to the mode in which they are hired 
and paid their wages on farms. The farm servants of 
this district are in general a sober, steady, hard-work- 
ing, industrious, and religious race of men ; in person 
they are of a middling height, well formed, and re- 
markably stout, capable of bearing considerable fatigue, 
and retaining all that resolution in enterprise which dis- 
tinguished their ancestors, the borderers of the Marches. 
Living at great distances from large towns, they have 
few of the temptations to vice incident to the congre- 
gation of large bodies of men ; and their wages being 
paid in kind, they have few opportunities of indulging 
in the dissipation of the village alehouse. In their 
domestic habits they are extremely cleanly and simple, 
in their dress plain and decent ; obedient and attached 
to their masters, and to local habits and feelings, they 
change their situations as seldom as possible. The 
farms being extensive, varying from 300/. to 1500/. per 
annum in rent, and the hours of labour long, the ser- 
vants of each farm form a circle among themselves, 
neither seeking or caring for the society of those at a 
distance. Parents consider it an indispensable duty to 
have their children instructed in the rudiments of edu 
cation, and to neglect it, or to be unable to read and 
write correctly, incurs obloquy and disgrace ; children 
are sent daily, with their scanty dinners in a bag, a 
distance of four and five miles, to attend the nearest 
school. For the most part they are severe Calvinists 
in religion ; sincerely attached to the Presbyterian or 
independent forms of church worship and discipline, 
they look upon the prelatical government of the Esta- 
blished Church as a mere ally to Popery, of which they 
have the utmost dread. They are regular attendants 
at public worship, not unfrequently walking from eight 
to fifteen miles to hear a favourite preacher: although 
anxious speculators in the debated points of theological 
controversy, and fond of scrutinizing the doctrines of 
their religious teachers, they invariably entertain feel- 
ings of respect and kindness towards their pastors. 
Their diet is simple and wholesome, but extremely 
homely ; they are unable to afford meat regularly (what 
they use is chiefly bacon or pork), living very much upon 
cheese, potatoes, bread, butter-milk, garden-stuff, and 
oatmeal : the days on which meat is placed on their 
frugal boards (Sunday is always one) form a sort of 
family feasts, and are dignified by the name of pot-days. 
The bread is made of barley, or barley mixed with grey 
pease or beans. Two parts barley and one part pease 
or beans are mixed previously to grinding; after having 
been ground, the meal is sifted through a sieve of wood 
to separate it from the rough husks and coarse bran ; 
it is kneaded with water, made into unleavened cakes, 
and baked on a thin circular piece of iron, called a 
girdle, suspended over the fire. Oatmeal is also a 
principal article of food, made into what are locally 
called crowdies, for breakfast and supper : the oatmeal, 
in preparing this dish, is placed in a basin, and a hole 
made in the centre of the meal, into which boiling 
water is poured ; a paste of great consistency is formed 
by stirring it with a small stick, and then eaten with 
butter or milk, as most convenient. Another prepara- 
tion of oatmeal, called hasty pudding, or meaUkail, is 
also used, and is made almost in a similar manner, the 
only difference being, that it is boiled instead of having 
water poured over it. They never brew for themselves, 
and therefore they seldom drink ale or beer, except when 
provided by their master during the harvest work ; they 
take but little spirits, and rarely use tobacco. They are 

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[January 7, 

generally very sober ; almost the only occasions when 
they are to be seen the least intoxicated is when at a 
neighbouring fair, seeking a service, or buying a pig, 
or during those remnants of ancient hospitality which 
are invariably kept up on a fixed day — the village feasts, 
when music, dancing (for a fondness of both of which 
the Northumbrian peasantry are distinguished), cards, 
and drinking are the amusements of the day. 

They do not usually marry early in life ; indeed, they 
have involuntarily imposed a check on early marriages, 
by making it almost indispensable for young men to be 
the possessors of a cow and furniture, which is locally 
called the "plenishing," before they enter into that 
6tate. As it is not considered a very reputable thing 
for a young man to marry unless he can furnish a 
cottage and purchase a cow, a spirit of independence is 
thus created in a young couple, which enables them to 
face the world and set up for themselves. A master 
sometimes assists an industrious young man, who has 
been some time in his service, in purchasing these re- 
quisites, or lends him a cow until he is able to work the 
value of it out. Early and improvident marriages are 
generally the result of previous indiscretion, which ren- 
der them imperative to preserve character. They have 
seldom recourse to parochial relief, not even in cases of 
temporary sickness, because the labourer being hired 
for a year, his wages go on, notwithstanding his in- 
ability to perform his service; and this does not operate 
hardly on the master, as it matters little to him whether 
he supports his own servants, or contributes to the sup- 
port of all persons similarly situated in the parish, while 
rt saves the independent labourer from the degradation 
of applying to the overseers. The peasantry are rarely 
enabled to save money during their service, but, as the 
family live together, they have some provision for their 
old age in the industry of their children. The benefit 
clubs established amongst them are not for the purpose 
of giving aid in cases of sickness or misfortune, but to 
pay the expenses of the funerals of the members. The 
nature of the engagements of these agricultural ser- 
vants, and of their wages, is productive of such obvious 
effects on their morals and happiness, that some account 
of it cannot but be interesting to the reader. The en- 
gagement of a hind is annual, from May to May ; he is 
provided with a cottage and garden rent-free, he has a 
cow kept upou his master's pasture, he is paid a certain 
quantity of corn, a certain quantity of wool, if his 
master be a sheep-breeder, and some money. The 
amount of grain being fixed, and tiot affected by the 
markets, the hind is not subjected to the fluctuations 
of high and low prices. The following may be taken 
as a fair average of the particulars of the annual wages; 
36 bushels of oats, 24 bushels of barley, 12 bushels of 
pease, 3 bushels of wheat, 241bs. of wool, a ton of hay 
and turnips, sufficient for the support of a cow during 
the winter months, as much straw as can be made into 
manure, a piece of land sufficient for the growth of 36 
bushels of potatoes, and 34. 10s. in cash. The grain, 
which is always the best produced by the farm, thereby 
giving the servants an interest in working the land, 
and preserving the produce in good condition, is given 
in four equal quantities at stated intervals of time. 
The farmer also conveys their coals from the neigh- 
bouring colliery. To the cottage is attached a cow- 
house and pig-sty, the inhabitants, generally two in 
the course of a year, of which latter residence, are kept 
entirely upon the refuse of kitchen and garden stuff. 
The proprietors of small mills, which are numerous, 
send round their carts to the surrounding villages, and 
collect the grain, and return it ground, for a trifling re- 
muneration. Every hind is bound to provide a female 
worker or boy for the lighter operations of the farm, at 
a low rate of wages, viz., one shilling a day during the 
harvest, which commonly lasts about thirty days, and 

eight-pence a day during the remainder of the year; 
although the hind is always obliged by his contract to 
have such worker ready, yet she is only employed, and 
the hind, her master, paid, when wanted. This part of 
their engagement, which is called " bondage-work/' 
has lately become very obnoxious to the hinds, who are 
now forming unions amongst themselves to get rid of 
it; should they succeed, the increased expense of cul- 
tivation to the farmer would be seriously felt: the late 
Duke of Northumberland was opposed to the system, 
but failed in a partial attempt to do away with it. 
Where the hind has a son or daughter capable of per- 
forming the work, it is a source of profit to him, but 
when he has to hire a servant, whose wages perhaps eat 
up more than her work produces, it must be acknow- 
ledged that an apparent hardship, at least, is inflicted 
on her employer. The average amount of wages paid a 
Northumberland hind may be estimated a£ 35/. per 

Self-conceit and malice are needed to discover or to 
imagine faults, and it is much easier for an ill-natured 
man than for a good-natured man to be smart and witty .— 
S/iarp's Essays. 

Economy. — AH to whom want is terrible, upon whatever 
principle, ought to think themselves obliged to learn the 
sage maxims of our parsimonious ancestors, and attain the 
salutary arts of contracting expense ; for^rithout economy 
none can be rich, and with it few can be poor. The mere 
power of saving what is already in our hands must he of 
easy acquisition to every mind; and, as the example of 
Lord Bacon may show that the highest intellect cannot 
safely neglect it, a thousand instances every day prove that 
the humblest may practise it with success. — Rambler 

Progress and Effects of Education.— The general desire 
for education, and the general diffusion of it, is working, and 
partly has worked, a great change in the habits of the mass 
of the people. And though it has been our lot to witness 
some of the inconveniences necessarily arising from a tran- 
sition state, where gross ignorance has been superseded by 
a somewhat too rapid communication of instruction, dazzling 
the mind, perhaps, rather than enlightening it, yet every 
day removes something of this evil. Presumption and self- 
sufficiency are sobered down by the acquirement of useful 
knowledge, and men's minds become less arrogant in pro* 
portion as they become better informed. There cannot be 
a doubt, therefore, but that any evils which may have arisen 
from opening the flood-gates of education, if I may so say, 
will quickly flow away, and that a clear and copious stream 
will succeed, fertilising the heretofore barren intellect with 
its wholesome and perennial waters. — Charge of the Bishop 
of Lichfield, 1836. 

Secrets of Comfort, — Though sometimes small evils, like 
invisible insects, inflict pain, and a single hair may stop a 
vast machine, yet the chief secret of comfort lies in not 
suffering trifles to vex one, and in prudently cultivating an 
undergrowth of small pleasures, since very few great ones, 
alas ! are let on long leases. — Sharp's Essays. 


CmriER, in his arrangement of the Animal Kingdom, 
has instituted a group or tribe, in itself very natural, 
under the title of Plantigrade Camivora, consisting of 
such carnivora as apply, in walking, the entire sole of 
the foot to the ground, the sole being naked and cal- 
lous. That our readers may understand clearly what is 
meant by the entire sole being applied to the ground, 
we may illustrate the subject by comparing together the 
foot of the dog and of the bear. The dog is digitigrade, 

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that is, it rests upon its toes (which are furnished be- 
neath each with a callous pad), and a " ball " or cushion 
placed immediately behind them. Its wrist before and 
its heel behind are not brought in contact with the 
ground, — it is raised upon its limbs, in order that its 
movements may be light and rapid. Now, if we 
turn to the bear, an animal with which few are un- 
acquainted, we shall find that the fore-paws are pressed 
flat, and have* beneath a large, broad, callous palm, — 
while the hind-feet, with a large sole from heel to toe, 
are also brought in contact with the ground. This 
difference in the structure of the feet* slight as it may 
appear, is accompanied by a marked difference as 
respects the movements of the animals. AH planti- 
grade animals move with a firm, heavy, and almost a 
clumsy step, destitute of lightness and elasticity ; — 
they cannot bound along, — their limbs are too thick 
and short, and their foot-fall too decided, for such a 
mode of progression. Not that they are necessarily 
slow, — for the bear rushes along with considerable 
speed, — but their pace, when exerted to rapidity, par- 
takes of the heavy character so conspicuous in their 
ordinary mode of walking. The structure of the soles 
of the hind-feet, for entire application to the earth, 
enables them to sit up on their haunches, and use the 
fore-paws, either for holding food between them, as we 
see in the racoon, or fdr defending themselves when at- 
tacked. We know how the bear raises himself when 
assailed, and hugs his adversary with an iron gripe, 
while he tears his enemy with his teeth. The planti- 
grade carnivora are all, or nearly all, climbers ; but 
their mode ot climbing does not resemble that of the 
cat, or the squirrel, or of any of the light-limbed and 
sharp-clawed animals ; — they do not run up a tree and 
bound from branch to branch, but proceed in the same 
heavy manner as on the ground ; — and it is because 
they can apply the palm of their paws, or the sole of 
their hind-feet, fairly to any object (not, however, 
grasping it), that they are enabled thus to climb. They 
use their feet, in fact, in the same manner as man, and 
their mode of climbing resembles his, except that their 
paws do not grasp ; — in descending, they generally 
come down hind-quarters foremost, carefully availing 
themselves of every projection. The bear always does 
so, and, as far as we have observed, the racoon also. 

With a modification of the organs of progression, 
unfitting them for the chase, or for bounding, like the 
tiger, from a covert upon their prey, their appetite is 
accordingly less essentially carnivorous ; — it is modified 
to meet their powers of locomotion. Hence their diet 
is of a mixed nature; their food consists of roots, 
berries, and fruits, as well as of flesh ; and their teeth 
indicate that vegetable aliment is perfectly congenial. 
Some, however, are more carnivorous than others, and 
have better opportunities of obtaining prey. Among 
these may be placed the coatis (of which there are three 
species), animals peculiar to the warmer portions of the 
American continent. 

The coatis, or coati-mondis, —formerly placed by Lin- 
naeus with the ViverrtB % but now rightly associated into 
a genus, under the title of Nasua, — are very remark- 
able, and cannot be confounded with any other animals. 
They may be known at once by the peculiar elongation 
of their snout, which projects considerably beyond the 
lower jaw. This snout is not, as in the hog, supported 
by a continuation of the nasal bone, but is a cylindrical 
and flexible proboscis, with a truncated extremity, form- 
ing a sort of disc where the nostrils open, and altogether 
giving a singular character to their physiognomy. 
They turn it about in various directions while in search 
for food, and root with it in the earth in quest of worms 
and insects. The eyes are small, but quick ; the ears 
moderate and rounded ; the body long, deep, and com- 

pressed ; the tail long ; the limbs short and stout ; the 
toes five on each foot, and armed with large powerful 
claws, well adapted for digging. The fur is rather 
coarse, but long, full, and close ;• the tail is ringed with 
alternate bands of dark and pale tints, — in the red 
coati (Nama rufa) of rufous, in the brown coati 
(N. fused) of dusky, brown. The canine te'eth are re- 
markable for their size and sharpness, especially those 
of the upper jaw, which are compressed, and have a 
cutting edge both before and behind. 
. In captivity these animals sleep much during the 
day, and, like the kinkajou, are most active as the even- 
ing advances, at which time they traverse their cage, 
turn their snout from side to side, and pry into every 
corner. They do not* however, pass the whole of the 
day in sleep, but are active for hours together, retiring 
to rest only at intervals. Their temper is capricious ; 
we have, indeed, seen some individuals tolerably good- 
tempered, but most are savage, and their bite is very 

In their native climate they tenant the woods, living 
for the most part in small troops among the trees, which 
they climb with great address, and prey upon birds, 
which they surprise, rifling also their nests of eggs or 
unfledged young. Worms, insects, and roots form 
also part of their diet. 

The species presented in the cut is the brown coati 
(N.fusea.') Its colours are very variable, the brown 
being more or less tinged with yellow, and sometimes 
shaded with black ; the under surface is yellowish grey ; 
the snout is generally black, and several spots or marks 
of greyish yellow encircle the eye. It is a native of 
Brazil, Guiana, and Paraguay. 

D'Azara, who describes this species in his Essay on 
the Quadrupeds of Paraguay, states that it lives exclu- 
sively in the forests, going either singly, in pairs, or in 
small troops, and climbing with the utmost facility, al- 
though its tail is not prehensile, like that of the kinka- 
jou. It is an amusing thing, he observes, to see a 
troop of these animals fall as if dead from the top of a 
tree, when they perceive by the blows that the hatchet 
is at work upon it, or when a pretence of cutting it 
down be made. From this manoeuvre, and most pro- 
bably from their cunning, and not from their activity 
or destructive propensities, they have been compared to 
the fox, though in reality they have nothing fox-'like 
at all in their habits and manners. In Paraguay the 
coati is commonly kept in a state of semi-domestication, 
but always tied up, or caged, because it cannot other- 
wise be prevented from climbing about the house, and 
overturning glass, china, and every other light piece of 
furniture. D'Azara, writing of this animal, as often 
seen by him, kept tame in Paraguay, says, " It eats 
bread and flesh raw oY cooked, various sorts of fruit, 
and in a word aliment of every kind." In our mena 
geries the same may also be said of it. Linnaeus kept 
a coati for some time, which h$ attempted in vain to 
bring into subjection. It made sad havoc with the 
poultry, tearing off their heads and sucking their blood. 
In our menageries no opportunity is given it to display 
this ferocity of disposition ; but D'Azara notices this 
propensity : — " I have," says he, " sometimes seen it 
seize chickens and fowls, kill them, and eat a small por- 
tion of their flesh, beginning at the back of the neck." 

In drinking, the coati laps like a dog; but as its long 
snout would be in the way during this operation, it 
turns it up, so as to prevent its being submerged. 

In size the brown coati is equal to a large cat, its 
body being twelve or fourteen inches long, and its tail 
as much. There is, however, a larger species than 
either the rufous or the brown coati, which seems 
hitherto to have been confounded with the latter. Spe- 
cimens of it are living in the menagerie of the Zoolo- 

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[January 7, 1837". 

gical Society, and others are preserved in the museum. 
It seems, to speak from our own observation, more 
gentle than the others ; but on this point we cannot 
lay any stress : none are remarkable for intelligence or 
docility. This larger species was not unknown to 
D'Azara, though he confounded it with the brown coati, 
as will appear from the following passage. " It is said 
that there are certain coatis (couatis) which are solitary; 
these are called Haegrvo- Monde (Haegno, an American 
word, signifying to go alone), but many persons con- 
sider them to be specifically distinct from the coati (2V. 
fused). The differences which they assign do not con- 
sist in colours nor in figure, nor in anything but this, 
namely, that the former animal is solitary, and altoge- 
ther larger than the common coati, though, as it regards 
myself, I am persuaded that this difference of size de- 
pends on age or sex, and that their solitary mode of 
life depends upon incidental circumstances." 

We have had for many years the continual opportu- 
nity of seeing numbers of these animals in captivity, 
and we do not hesitate for a moment to affirm that the 
large brown species is truly distinct from the smaller 
brown coati and from the rufous coati, which two latter 
are of about an equal size, and never attain to anything 
like the dimensions of the former, which has moreover 
its own peculiar style of colouring. Let any one inter- 

ested in natural history visit the menagerie of the Zoo- 
logical Society to be convinced of the fact. The coati 
is described by BufFon, but without much precision, 
and with some errors. 

In conclusion, it may be observed that these animals 
are highly gifted with the sense of smell ; they examine 
everything with their long nose, which is in almost 
perpetual motion ; their temper is irritable and ca- 
pricious ;-^they cannot be trusted, even by those with 
whose persons they are the most familiar, and, conse- 
quently, are not to be touched without great caution. 
Their voice, seldom exerted, is, under ordinary circum- 
stances, a gentle hissing ; but when irritated or alarmed, 
they utter a singularly shrill cry, something like that of 
a bird. They defend themselves vigorously when at- 
tacked by a dog, or any animal, and inflict desperate 
wounds. Like the racoon, they are said to be fond of 
the juice of the sugar-cane, but we know not on what 
authority. D'Azara does not allude to this partiality, 
— it is, however, far from being improbable. In climb- 
ing, they descend head foremost, being in this respect 
unlike the bear, which animal they far surpass in 
activity, being, indeed, better climbers than even the 
cat, and exceeded among their own tribe only by 
the kinkajou, whose prehensile tail gives it a great 

The Coati-Mondi.— Natua futca.'] 

'The Office of the Society for the Diffusion or Useful Knowledge is at 59 Lincoln's Inn Fields 
Printed by William Clowss sad Sons, Stamford Street. 

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Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. 



[January 14, 1837. 


[March* a la Vokolle, Paris.] 

This neat and commodious market was erected in 
IB 10, and occupies the site of the convent church of 
the Augustins. It is situated nearly at the foot of the 
Pont Neuf, on the Quai des Augustins. The building 
is of stone, and is pierced with arcades, which are closed 
with iron rails. Between the interior and exterior walls 
there are three galleries, which add considerably to the 
utility of the building. The entire length of the market 
is 190 feet, and the breadth 141 feet. It is open daily, 
but the supply is largest on Mondays, Wednesdays, 
Fridays, and Saturdays. Game is sold in this market. 
A considerable quantity of poultry is brought to the 
market alive, and as all the operations connected with 
preparing it for the spit are carried on within the build- 
ing, it frequently presents rather a disgusting appear- 
ance. The supply of poultry required for the consump- 
tion of Paris in 1811 was as follows: the population 
has since increased about one-third, and as there has 
not been a proportionate increase in the consumption 
of meat, the actual consumption of poultry may perhaps 
Vol- VI. 

be ascertained with tolerable accuracy by adding one- 
third to each of the quantities given. The number of 
pigeons was 93 1,000; ducks, 174,000; fowls, 1,289,000; 
capons, 251,000 ; turkeys, 549,000 ; geese, 328,000. In 
1834 the consumption of poultry and game amounted 
in value to 309,122/. The value of the eggs consumed 
was 176,583/. ; making a total of 485,705/. In Eng- 
land, when a family which rarely consumes poultry 
wishes to provide this species of food, a goose is most 
commonly selected for the occasional treat, and hence 
the number brought to market is much larger than 
that of turkeys ; but in France there is a sort of pre- 
judice against this bird, and comparatively few are 
reared for the Parisian market. The greater dryness 
of the climate of France probably tends to deteriorate 
the quality and flavour of the flesh of the goose. 

Poultry is an important object of French farming, 
and it is thought by many that the consumption of 
poultry equals that of mutton ; but at all events it is 
much greater than in this country, and it may be into*, 


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[Jamuaky 14, 

resting to notice some ot the causes to which this may 
be attributed. In the first place may be mentioned the 
lean and inferior quality of cattle and sheep in France. 
The weight of our sheep is more than three times that 
of the French breed. The average weight of the Tees- 
water breed is 2S lbs. per quarter; of the Leicester, 
221bs. per quarter; of the Southdown, 181bs. per quar- 
ter. About ninety years ago, the average weight of the 
entire sheep sold in Smithfield market was about 281bs., 
but it is now about 80 lbs. ; and the average weight 
of cattle has risen from 370 lbs. to about 800 lbs. No 
such improvement has taken place in France. There 
does not exist to any large extent a class of agricul- 
turists whose endeavours to improve the breed of live 
stock would operate in so extensive a manner as in this 
country, where the change for the better in most of 
our domestic animals has been almost complete. In 
France, not only are the cattle not half fattened, in 
consequence of no proper food being grown for them, 
but the butchers do not prepare the carcase in so neat 
and clean a manner as with us. Some of the sheep 
when fattened do not weigh more than 20 lbs., and sell 
at about five francs (4s.) a head. Bonaparte felt that 
it would be desirable to improve the breed of sheep ; 
but his interference, so far from producing the desired 
effect, tended to render the race more degenerate. The 
French butchers do not sufficiently attend to the age 
of the animals which they kill. Calves are taken to 
market so young, that a little horse will sometimes 
carry two or three in a pannier hanging at its side; 
and in the country towns a farmer will walk into the 
market with as many as four live lambs on each arm, 
their fore and hind legs tied together, through which 
he puts his arm. The peculiar character of French 
cookery renders this want of perfection in butchers' 
meat less obvious ; but, notwithstanding this, the greater 
consumption of poultry may be considered as one of its 

The circumstances in which a large number of the 
cultivators of the soil are placed in France does not 
enable them to produce grain, even for their own con- 
sumption. Land has been divided and sub-divided in 
many instances in very minute proportions, but the 
ambition to be landowners, which is so general in 
France, leads these small occupiers to make every exer- 
tion to maintain their position, although it is often an 
absolute waste of time to superintend the little patches 
into which their crops are divided. They grow, per- 
haps, a little wheat and rye, flax, garden produce, and 
possess a few fruit trees. They require some money, 
though not much ; and to obtain this, the produce of 
their garden, their fruit trees, and their poultry, are 
exchanged at the nearest market-town. It will be seen 
that, to a class thus circumstanced, the rearing of poul- 
try is really one of the most important means of their 
acquiring the various necessaries of life ; for if corn be 
grown at all, it is required for the domestic consump- 
tion. The Irish cottier is enabled to pay his rent by 
the sale of his pig; and though the French peasant has 
no rent to pay, yet money is equally indispensable to 
him, and poultry, fruit, and garden esculents constitute 
the only surplus produce which he is in a condition to 
raise. Mr. Birkbeck, who visited France in 1814, and 
made some interesting notes on the agriculture of the 
country, thus describes the manner in which the popu- 
lation is arranged. The extract is not only interesting 
as exhibiting the structure of society, but it shows that 
throughout the country it is consistent with the in- 
terests of a large class to supply all the minor objects 
of rural industry, and that they are in consequence 
likely to be cheap. Mr. Birkbeck says, — " A town 
(Moulins for instance) depends for subsistence on the 
lands immediately surrounding it. The cultivators in- 

dividually have not much to spare, because, as their 
husbandry is a sort of gardening, it requires a large 
country population, and has, in proportion, less super- 
fluity of produce. Thus is formed a numerous but 
poor country population. The daily supply of the 
numberless petty articles of French diet employs, and 
therefore produces, a multitude of little traders. It 
must be brought daily from the country, and the num- 
ber of individuals whom this operation employs is be- 
yond calculation. • * • • And thus 50,000 persons 
may inhabit a district, with a town of 10,000 inhabit- 
ants in the centre of it, bartering the superfluity of the 
country for the arts and manufactures of the town." 

Another cause which lessens the demand for poultry 
in England is the abundance of game. In France the 
game has been nearly all destroyed since the Revolu- 
tion of 1789, and it is nowhere preserved as in Eng- 
land. Hence arises the larger consumption of poultry 
in France. The price of a bare in France, in a coun* 
try town, is about 8*., and of a brace of partridges 
about 2*. 6d. This is higher, as compared with the 
prices of meat and poultry, than in England. The 
consumption of Paris in 1811 is stated to have been 
only 131,000 partridges, 29,000 hares, and 177,000 

In some official documents relative to the state of 
foreign agriculture, prepared by his Majesty's consuls, 
and presented during the last session, the prices of 
various articles of food are given, which we extract, 
for the purpose of enabling the reader to make his own 
comparisons and draw his own conclusions. In the 
neighbourhood of Calais, the price of butchers' meat 
averages 5id. per lb. ; and a couple of fowls cost from 
Is.Sd. to 2*. lid.; a turkey, from 2s. 2d. to 5*.; a 
goose, from 2s, \\d. to 3*. 9d. ; a couple of ducks, from 
2s. 2d. to 2s. 6d. In the department of the Seine In- 
feYieure the price of butchers' meat is from 4£d. to 6d. 
per lb. in the towns, and from 3jd. to 4)d. in the coun- 
try. Poultry is stated to be high, in consequence of 
the great demand at Havre for the shipping. Fowls 
are from 2s. Hd. to 4*. 9d. each, which latter price is 
dearer than in London during the season of the greatest 
demand, and when the supply is short. Turkeys vary 
from 3s. 2d. to 4s. Id.; geese, from 3*. 2d. to 4s.; 
ducks, from 1*. Id. to Is. lid. each. It is doubtful 
whether the French poultry weighs so heavy as that 
which is reared for the London market. In the Duchy 
of Hoi stein, the price of a fowl is stated to be Sd. ; a 
duck, Is. 2d.; a goose, 2s. 6d. The average price of 
fresh beef is 2d. per lb. ; veal, 3d. ; pork, 2hd. to Ad. 
In England, the price of fowls, in places at some dis- 
tance from London, is 2*. 6d. a couple ; ducks are the 
same price. In the south of Scotland geese are 3*. I 
each, weighing 10 lbs. or 121bs., and turkeys 4s. each. I 
Geese are usually sold by weight in England, and the 
price is about 6d. per lb. on an average, except i> 
London, where it Is much higher. The price of poultry 
in Ireland is lower than even in the north of Europe, 
and will perhaps surprise those who conceive that 
France is peculiarly the country of cheap living*. The 
late Mr. Ingtis, who published a * Journey throughout 
Ireland in 1884,' gives the price of provisions in several 
parts of Ireland. At Tralee he found the price of t 
fine turkey Is. 9d. ; a fine goose, lOd. ; fine fowls, Sd. 
a couple. The price of butchers' meat averaged as 
follows : — beef, 3d. ; mutton, 3jd. ; pork, 2d. Tralee 
is a busy town, and an extensive retail trade is carried 
on ; so that it is not owing to the absence of exchange 
and traffic that provisions are so low. At Mitchels- 
town, in the county Tipperary, turkeys were 3*. s 
couple ; geese, Is. lOd. a pair ; ducks, It. a pair ; fowls 
lOd. to 1* a pair. Beef was from S^d. to id. per lb. I 
mutton at from id. to id.; and pork as sometimes aft 

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low as 1 hd. per lb. In the north of Ireland, poultry is 
nearly as cheap as in the southern counties. At Sligo, 
Mr. Inglis found the prices of poultry as follows: — a 
couple of fowls, IQd. ; a good turkey, in the season, 2s. ; 
a green goose, lOd. Meat is brought from door to 
door, besides being sold in the regular markets ; and, 
so brought, the price of mutton was 4rf. per lb. ; beef, 
6d. ; pork, 2d. 

The circumstances of the Irish cottier resemble in 
some respects those of the French peasant, though the 
one is a tenant and the other a proprietor ; and they 
are both favourably placed for raising the smaller arti- 
cles of agricultural produce. The price of poultry in 
France has been given only for those districts where it 
is probably dearer than in any other ; and in remote 
parts it may not be higher than in Ireland, though this 
is doubtful. The French poultry is, however, most 
likely, better in quality than the Irish. But as the 
development of steam-navigation between Ireland and 
the western coasts of England has already effected, 
and- is effecting, great improvements in tbe breed of 
cattle, a similar improvement will be produced when 
the heart of the country is penetrated by railways, and 
when not more than twenty-four hours will be required 
to bring the agricultural produce of the interior of Ire- 
land into the capital of the empire. If even the race 
of animals has been improved in consequence of the 
influence of English civilization, it may surely be per- 
mitted to hope, that when this influence shall be much 
more extensively diffused, and when it will act both 
upon the moral and physical capabilities of the coun- 
try, an extensive change for good will take place in its 
destinies. Liverpool, Manchester, and the manufac- 
turing districts of Lancashire and Yorkshire have 
already been benefited by the intercourse which has 
sprung up with Ireland during the last few years. 
Meat and poultry are both cheaper in consequence of 
the importations by the steam-boats. In Liverpool 
a turkey may be purchased for 3s. The Liverpool 
market is also indebted to steam-navigation for supplies 
both of game and poultry from the south-western parts 
of Scotland. To the same cause we are indebted to 
our French neighbours in the departments adjacent to 
the English coasts for about 70,000,000 eggs per an- 
num. They pay a duty of Id. per dozen, and in 1834 
this duty yielded a revenue ©f 24,169/. The fact shows 
to what an extent industry may be stimulated, and new 
channels of advantageous traffic opened, by improved 
means of communication. 

A few words may perhaps be added for the information 
of those who are desirous of estimating the comparative 
cost of poultry and butcher's meat in London. In 
France and in Ireland poultry is as cheap, or cheaper, 
than butcher's meat, but in London it is much dearer. 
The average weight of a turkey is lOlbs., and the 
average price is \0d. per lb. The total cost is therefore 
8«. Ad. ; but in preparing the bird for the spit the weight 
is diminished by about 2£ lbs., so that for the remaining 
7 Jibs, the cost is still 8*. 4(2., whereas a leg of mutton 
weighing 8 lbs. would only cost 5*. 4d. The average 
weight of a goose is lOlbs., and the average price about 
7*. ; from which 41bs. may be deducted for the giblets 
and offal. The giblets may be sold for 1*., so that the 
price of the weight remaining when the bird is pre- 
pared for the spit, will be exactly 1*. per lb. The 
average weight of a fine fowl is 31bs., and the price is 
3.i. ; but the offal being deducted, the price is higher 
than 1*. per lb. Poultry can never become a general 
article of consumption while these prices continue. 
The quality is of a very superior kind, but only the rich 
consumer can afford such expensive food. A short 
time will show the effect which railways will have in 
cheapening and equalizing the prices of provisions. 

The supply of poultry is at present usually obtained 
within a comparatively limited circle. The rearing of 
poultry does not receive an attention proportionate to its 
importance in rural economy. The trade with London 
is very extensive, and a Lincolnshire breeder will some- 
times send about 1000 turkeys and 12,000 geese to the 
London market during the week preceding Christmas. 


The circle of Carniola is one of the most interesting 
portions of the dominions of Austria. Its bare and 
calcareous mountains are grand and striking, and their 
geological structure is peculiar. The waters of sub- 
terraneous rivers issue from their recesses, and the lake 
of Zirknitz is celebrated on account of the singular 
fact that at stated times it suddenly becomes dry, its 
contents being drained into the bowels of the mountains, 
and after the lapse of a certain period, they again issue 
into their usual basin. The Proteus Anguinis, which 
was described in No. 259 of the ' Penny Magazine,' 
and whose history has baffled the investigation of emi- 
nent naturalists, is found in this region, in the cavern of 

Adelsberg is situated half-way between Laybach and 
Trieste, in the district which overhangs the Adriatic, 
and, as shown in the engraving, is placed at the foot of 
a considerable eminence. There are two apertures in 
this eminence, one of which receives the river Poick. 
One of thestf openings seems, from its regular appear- 
ance, to be the work of art rather than of Nature, while 
the other aperture has none of this regularity, but is 
broken into jagged shapes. The entrance by which 
visiters are conducted into these caverns is considerably 
higher than that by which the river disappears ; and 
the gallery which it forms is divided from the other 
cavern by a partition, which is broken through in various 
places, the visiter hearing the waters rushing beneath 
along their subterraneous bed. This gallery runs but 
a short way into the mountain, while, " as you ad- 
vance, the murmurings of the stream and the distant 
gleams of daylight die away together, aud the silence 
and darkness of ancient night reign around.'' Such 
is the entrance to the cavern of Adelsberg ; but its 
recesses cannot be penetrated without the assistance of 
lights. The visiter then proceeds along the passage 
above described, which gradually widens, until it opens 
into an immense cavern, or rather there are two caverns, 
for it is crossed by a ledge of rock, which does not rise 
to the roof. This ledge forms a natural bridge, on one 
side of which the waters furiously pursue their course, 
and further on they have worn a passage through the 
partition which divides the cavern. The darkness is 
oppressive and impenetrable, and the lights, which are 
too feeble to pierce through the obscurity, only render it 
more striking. The waters rush along with a heavy and 
indistinct sound. It is only within a comparatively 
recent period that any one has been so adventurous as 
to proceed any farther than this ledge, as it sinks 
down precipitously. At the point where the descent is 
the least abrupt, a flight of steps was cut, the par- 
tition was pierced, and steps were cut on the other 
side, which land the visiter on the floor of the larger 
cavern. Here the river flows steadily along in a well- 
indented channel, and it enters the mountain at the 
opposite wall of the cavern. A wooden bridge is thrown 
across the river, and the terminating wall of the cavern 
apparently opposes all further progress. About twenty 
years ago some individual, by means of the projecting 
points of rock, reached the top of this wall, which is 
about forty feet high. His adventurous spirit was 
rewarded by discovering that the wall was not so high 
k C 2 

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[January 14, 

[View of the Entrance to the Cavern of Adeliberg.| 

as the roof, and another cavern presented itself. Steps 
were cut on the opposite side, and beyond this there 
was found a succession of immense caverns, branching 
off in two separate series. 

Sir Humphrey Davy, in his 'Consolations in Travel,' 
has introduced a conversation which took place between 
himself and his friends during a visit which they paid to 
the cavern of Adelsberg, and which will be found in 
the c Penny Magazine/ No. 259. It is needless to state 
that its wonders filled him with admiration. An intel- 
ligent writer (whom we have already quoted in the 
preceding page), who visited this cavern a few years 
ago, gave the following detail concerning them, in a 
• Tour in Germany and the Southern Provinces of 
Austria.' After remarking that the suite of caverns 
to the left is the more extensive, ample, and majestic, 
and that the one which branches to the right, though 
smaller, is richer in varied and fantastic forms, he 
states that they are all different in size and form and 
ornament, and are connected* by passages which are 
sometimes low and bare, sometimes spacious and lofty, 
supported by pillars, and fretted with cornices of the 
purest stalactite. The following is his description, as 
far as description can go, of these details: — "The 
columns are sometimes uniform in their mass and 
singularly placed ; sometimes they are so regularly 
arranged, and consist of smaller pillars so nicely clus- 
tered together, that one believes he is walking up the 
nave of a Gothic cathedral. Many of these columns, 
which are entirely insulated, have a diameter of three, 
four, and even five feet. Frequently the pillar is inter- 
rupted as it were in the middle, losing its columnar 
form, and twisting, dividing, or spreading itself out into 
innumerable shapes. Sometimes it dilates into a broad 
thin plate, almost transparent in the light of a lamp ; 

sometimes this plate curves itself round in a circular 
form, sometimes the descending part tapers to a point, 
which rests on the broad surface of the ascending 
stalagmite. The walls are entirely coated with the 
substance, and, in the smaller grottoes, it is so pure, 
that travellers have covered it with names written in 
pencil, which have already resisted the moisture five or 
six years. The other division is more spacious, and 
extends much further. The caverns which compose it 
are wider and loftier, but not so beautifully adorned as 
in the other. The enormous clustered columns of sta- 
lactite that seem to support the everlasting roof fit* 01 
which they have only originated, often tower to such a 
height, that the lights do not enable you to discover 
their summit ; but, though infinitely majestic, they are 
rougher, darker, and more shapeless than in the small* 1 " 
suite. The further you advance, the elevations become 
bolder, the columns more massive, and the forms more 
diversified, till, after running about six miles into the 
earth, the scene of wonderment terminates with the 
element with which it began, water. A small sub- 
terraneous lake, deep, clear, cold, and dead-still, pre* 
vents all further progress. It has not been passed; ll 
would therefore be too much to say that nothing l |eS 

One of the most spacious and regular of 'any of the 
caverns, of an oval form, about sixty feet long » nd 
forty broad, and whose roof is not visible owing to it* 
great height, is used as a ball-room by the peasantry 
of Adelsberg once a-year, on the festival of their patron 
saint. The floor is smooth ; the walls are covered witn 
stalactite, but are otherwise less ornamented tnftn ! 
other caverns ; a few natural stone seats and w # °9"2 
benches constitute the furniture, and candles are ligntt? 

in rustic chandeliers, formed of a wooden cross s< 


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[Grotto of the Mtuldalena, at AdeUberg.] 

horizontally on the top of a pole. " Here," says the 
account, " many hundred feet beneath the surface of 
the earth, and a mile from the light of day, the 
rude music of the Carniolian resounds through more 
magnificent halls than were ever built for monarchs. 
The flame of the uncouth chandeliers is reflected from 
the stalactite vralls in a blaze of ever-changing light; 
and, amid its dancing refulgence, the village swains 
and village beauties wheel round in the waltz, as if the 
dreams of the Rosicrucians had at length found their 
fulfilment, and Gnomes and Kobolds really lived and 
revelled in the bowels of our globe." 

The above cut represents the most remarkable feature 
of these wonderful caverns. A vast stalactite has formed 
from the ceiling, having the appearance of the most 
beautiful alabaster, and the form is that of a most per- 
fectly arranged drapery. The trickling of the water at 
the edges has thickened them, and given the appear- 
ance of an edging or border to the drapery. The sub- 
stance being semi-transparent, the guides who show 
the cavern put their torches behind it, in order to dis- 
play its beauty to the greatest advantage amidst the 
surrounding darkness. 

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[January 14, 


[From a Correspondent.] 

Throughout a large portion of the continent of North 
America the black bear may be said to be indigenous ; 
although, like the native tribes of Indians, once lords 
of that vast country, it has many years ago totally dis- 
appeared from the more numerously-peopled districts. 
But it docs not, however, retreat when the first blows 
of the settlers axe are heard resounding through the 
gloomy forests ; for while there are still remaining 
large bodies of the primeval woods — particularly sucn 
as yield the mast, which constitutes a portion of its 
favourite subsistence,;— it may occasionally be met with 
prowling about in the more secluded and impervious 
parts of the forest. Not, however, that it absolutely 
avoids perambulating the fields and pastures, for in the 
middle of a field of wheat, about half a mile distant 
from my dwelling-house, I one day had the mortification 
to find no fewer than four bears amusing themselves at 
my expense ; for having quietly satisfied their hunger 
with the ripe ears of grain, they were gambolling and 
frolicking about in their own peculiar and clumsy man- 
ner, beating down and trampling under foot five times 
the quantity they could possibly have otherwise con- 
sumed. When com pel lea by absolute necessity to go 
abroad in search of food, they will steal from their re- 
treats in the lone wilderness, and under the veil of 
darkness will venture into the vicinity of farm build- 
ings, provided there be no watch-dog to scare them 
from their intended plunder. On these occasions their 
* depredations are almost exclusively confined to the pig- 
sty, or rather to the hog-yard ; for the inhabitants seldom 
shut up their hogs in close pens, except during the period 
they are fattening them, that is, for a few weeks towards 
the close of the year. There is something migrmtory in 
the disposition of the black bear, though not very de- 
cidedly so. I have endeavoured to ascertain this point 
to some degree of certainty, not only from my own per- 
sonal observations during many years' residence in their 
haunts, but also from several old hunters, who, from 
their youth up, have spent the chief part of their lives 
in the pursuit of the wild animals of the forest; and all 
that I could learn from them upon the subject amounted 
to this ; — that it frequently happens for a number of 
years in succession, that but very few bears are seen 
throughout a vast range of country, so that the settlers 
have begun to conclude that the district was about to 
be entirely deserted by them ; when, all on a sudden, 
every valley and mountain ridge will regain the repu- 
tation of being infested with au unusual number of 
these animals. In all probability the succeeding year 
will bring about a similar scarcity ; and whither all the 
bears have withdrawn nobody seems able to decide. 

The following anecdote, which occurred in my own 
immediate vicinity, will serve to illustrate that when 
Bruin has made up his mind on the subject, and is hard 
run for a supper, he is not easily daunted or driven 
from his purpose. An Englishman from the Woiilds 
of Yorkshire, who had but recently arrived in our 
settlement, purchased a small farm in a very lonely 
situation, upon which he took up his abode in a little 
log-buill cabin, that had been erected by the original 
occupier of the place. His new residence was situated 
at one extremity of a few acres of "cleared" land, sur- 
rounded on all sides by dark primeval forests, so that he 
could not obtain a glimpse of any of his neighbours' pos- 
sessions, although he was scarcely a mile distant from 
the nearest of them. Everybody blamed him for fixing 
upon this out-of-the-way place, particularly as he was 
without any family; for he was one of those uncom- 
fortable sort of beings yclept " old bachelors." But he 
could have given two reasons for selecting this farm ; 
in the first place he purchased it at a low rate, which 
suited the state of his finances, and in the second place 

he preferred being where his peculiar habits and man- 
ner of living might but seldom come under the obser- 
vation of his somewhat curious and prying neighbours. 
Every house-keeper in America keeps one hog at the 
least; for in the interior of the country they have no 
meat-markets to resort to for a supply of provisions, so 
that it behoves them to lay in a stock of their own. My 
countryman, the old bachelor, no soo? er took possession 
of his new estate, than he purchased a good-sized hog, 
which, during the summer, would be able to pick up a 
precarious livelihood, and when the season should arrive 
for shutting it up, its owner expected to be in the pos- 
session of a small stock of Indian corn, upon which he 
meant to fatten his grunter. After he had succeeded 
in domesticating the animal, by treating it daily, for a 
short time, to some portion of nis small stock of eatables, 
it was suffered to ramble where it pleased ; and it would 
sometimes remain in the adjoining woods for several 
days in succession. One day, however, it returned 
home with evident marks about it of having been in the 
wars ; and the fact was, that it had been attacked by a 
bear, and had not a hunter's dog accidentally come up 
at the moment, the settler's hog would never have 
returned to the abode of its owner. It was now deemed 
prudent to bestow a little more circumspection upon 
the welfare and safety of the convalescent hog ; and 
our settler therefore piled up a iew logs against one 
end of his own hovel, as a place of security for his pig 
during the night, but by day it was permitted to grunt 
about in the adjoining enclosure. Our Englishman 
had never seen a bear in his life; but iti his more 
youthful days he had read surprising stories of " out- 
landish wild beasts," and among these his imagination 
had correctly enough included the "black bear;" and 
now that he was morally certain that he had such a 
*' dreadful monster" for so near a neighbour, the idea 
made him feel exceedingly uncomfortable. The first 
two or three nights that the hog inhabited its new 
lodging passed calmly and quietly over; but sometime 
about the middle of the night following, the Yorkshire- 
man was awoke by a dreadful racket in the hog-pen, 
and presently he heard his near neighbour squeaking 
and yelling in the most frightful manner. Trembling 
with affright, he arose from his bed, and having stirred 
the slumbering embers of his fire, he next examined his 
door to ascertain that it was properly secured, which 
having done he commenced hallooing and vociferating, 
and thumping with a huge billet of wood against the 
interior logs of his mansion, immediately opposite to 
where the affray was going on ; and although he had 
a loaded gun in his apartment, he judged it much safer 
to remain within the walls pf his fortress, than to sally 
out and risk the issue of a night encounter with a huge, 
savage, and disappointed "black bear." I am not sure 
but his was the wisest — at all events it was the safest — 
conclusion ; for although the old settlers laughed at 
him, and blamed him for not having hied to the rescue, 
— for many of them were nearly as familiar with wolves 
and bears as they were with their biped neighbours, — 
I am not quite certain that they, had they been simi- 
larly situated, would not have acted precisely as did the 
Yorkshireman. At any rate the alarming turmoil did not 
last long ; for the unmusical notes of the poor hog grew 
fainter and fainter, until it was evident to its trembling 
owner that it had breathed its last. When returning 
daylight once more gladdened the heart of the besieged 
settler, he cautiously undid the fas ten! a gs of his rude 
door, and with the muzzle of his rusly fowling-piece 
considerably in advance, and his finger upon the trigger, 
he stole softly round his cabin, by the tpposite end to 
that where the hog-pen was situated, with a mixture of 
hope and apprehension of falling in with the bear ; but 
when he at last ventured to approach the sceue of the 
preceding night's conflict, neither bear nor hog was 

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there! Bruin seldom feasts upon his victim in such 
suspicious places; for being possessed of great strength, 
he prefers bearing it off into his own territories, the lone 
forest, where he can banquet more at his leisure, and in 
greater security. 

The lonely bachelor might have got over the stigma 
of not having done all in his power to annoy his hog's 
adversary, for there were no " courts martial " to bring 
him before ; but he took a resolution which convinced 
even those who had defended his previous conduct, that 
he was not a hero of the very first order. Having 
satisfied himself that the bear, after killing his pretty 
large hog, had actually carried it clean off the premises, 
he judged it prudent to evacuate his lonely cabin before 
Bruin made a second visit; for he somewhere had 
heard it said, that the flesh of the hog very much re- 
sembled that of the human body, so that nothing 
seemed more probable than that he would be seized 
upon in the absence of another hog. Without turning 
the matter uppermost in his mind twice over, he 
shouldered his gun, and made the best of his way to 
the house of a friend and countryman, to whom he 
related the dire events of his short residence in the now 
deserted cabin ; for from that hour he never again 
visited it. He took the earliest opportunity of disposing 
of the small farm, for which he got but a mere trifle ; 
and not feeling quite comfortable in the neighbourhood 
of his first heroic exploits as a backwoodsman, he 
retreated to a distant but an older-settled part of the 
country, where the inhabitants were equally strangers 
to the visits of " black bears,'* as they were to the 
history of the former adventures of the " old bachelor.'* 

The cubs of the black bear when caught young are 
easily domesticated ; and hence they are sometimes 
kept about the premises of those who are ardent ad- 
mirers of such ungainly pet-monsters. A friend and 
neighbour of mine, who entertained a rooted antipathy 
towards dogs, procured a young bear that soon became 
very tame and familiar ; and as he grew up my friend 
taught and encouraged " Bruin" to drive away every 
dog that happened to accompany the settlers, or in 
any other way came about the premises; and the 
eagerness and assiduity which the lubberly-looking 
fellow evinced in his avocation were truly astonishing. 
Even the regular hunters' dogs, that were almost daily 
accustomed to savage warfare in the pursuit of the wild 
animals of the forest, no sooner perceived honest Bruin 
intent upon driving them from his own little territory, 
than they immediately adopted the hint, and with fallen 
crest and downcast tail, scampered off as fast as their 
legs would carry them. The young men employed 
upon my friend's estate would wrestle and frolic with 
Bruin, who, although he exhibited no signs of ma- 
lignant or vindictive feeling, was occasionally a rather 
rude customer. We had several times discoursed upon 
the probability of his retaining his wonted good appetite 
during the severe winter months, and wondered whether 
or not he would stick pretty close to his warm kennel ; 
when one day, to the regret of the whole establishment, 
it was discovered that honest Bruin was missing. A 
general inquiry was instituted respecting the missing 
hear, but nothing certain and conclusive could be 
arrived at. The following morning came, but Bruin 
came not, so that the prevailing opinion seemed to be, 
that he had been fallen in with by some of the hunters 
in his wonted rambles in the neighbouring woods, and 
no doubt shot either designedly or by mistake, for he 
was do friend with those whose dogs he scared from 
about his master's premises. -As no report got abroad 
in the settlement of any bears having been lately caught, 
Bruin's friends finally adopted the opinion that his 
death had been a wilful act, and that the guilty party, 
not feeling disposed to avow it openly, had feasted upon 
his plump carcase in secret. When " Bruin n disap- 

peared from his home and his friends, (for he was a 
great favourite notwithstanding his occasional rudeness) 
it was in the early part of the month of December, 
just as winter was about to set in decidedly ; and 
although the ground was partially frozen, there was at 
the time no covering of snow. But shortly afterwards 
a snow-storm came on, which continued for three days, 
so that when it subsided there was fully two feet of 
level snow everywhere overspreading the surrounding 
scene. From that time until the beginning of April 
the surface of the ground was no more visible ; for 
although there occurred one or two partial thaws, yet 
they were succeeded by snow-storms, so that there was 
but little diminution in the original quantity of snow, 
when the spring was about to set in. But the increased 
influence of the sun, aided by the vernal breezes during 
the last days of March and the first days of April, 
was too powerful long to be withstood, so that at the 
time alluded to there was but a very slight covering 

One fine bright day the young people's attention was 
attracted, while they were standing at the windows of 
the dining-room, to something black that was moving 
slowly along the pathway which winded through the 
distant brakes and bushes ; when in a few minutes, as 
the half-hidden creature emerged into the open plains, 
there burst forth the general exclamation, " It is Bruin I 
it is Bruin ! the dear fellow, Bruin !" and in the lapse 
of a few minutes more he had taken possession of his 
old quarters — his kennel in the wood-shed. But what 
a change was there ! The well-fed and well-looking 
Bruin in the early part of December, returned at the 
commencement of April lean and ugly, and scarcely 
able to crawl along. There being, as I observed, some 
snow still remaining, curiosity prompted my friend to 
trace back the bear's ample footsteps, when, at the dis- 
tance of barely half a mile from the dwelling-house, he 
discovered an old hollow pine-tree, but still standing, 
within which Bruin had evidently taken up his winter 

During the following summer the bear soon regained 
his usual robustness, and on the approach of winter 
betook himself to his old hiding-place ; but returned 
as usual in the early opening of spring. Three winters 
did he pass in this pine-tree retirement, but before the 
return of the fourth my friend had got heartily tired of 
Bruin's wayward, and at times even savage, conduct ; 
and meeting with an itinerant showman, the bear was 
consigned to his safe keeping, and by this time, in all 
probability, has made the tour of Europe. 

Whatever may have been recorded concerning bears 
becoming fat by sucking their own paws, we have here 
an instance of one of these animals returning lean and 
languid from his confinement, which would go far to- 
wards establishing one of two things — namely, that 
either he had been too lazy to suck his own toes, or 
that the sucking of toes has not the fattening effect 
generally ascribed to it. 


(Abridged from the Article on Vital Statistics, by William Farr, 
Esq., Surgeon, in the * Statistical Account of the British Empire. 1 ) 

Man's body is compounded of many parts, performing 
many offices so diversified in nature, that there is, per- 
haps, no extensive train of phenomena in the universe 
that does not find its counterpart in his organization ; 
crowned with other and higher faculties of sense and 
intellect, far removed from anything observed in inor- 
ganic matter. This complexity and completeness of 
the human body almost justified the ancient opinion 
thai " man was microcosm us — an abstract or model of 
the world." For, dust and ashes as it is, who can 

Digitized by 




[January 14, 1837. 

survey the ruins of the human frame, the bare skeleton 
to which it is at last reduced, and in clothing- it with 
muscle and tendon, artery and vein, delicate and in- 
cessant chemical action, forces adjusted for circulating 
fluids, and producing motion, sight, and all sense — 
affection, passion, thought — the history of all it may 
have done and suffered — without feeling that a world 
wrecked in space, a planet in all its aberrations, offers 
a less interesting spectacle thau the phenomena mani- 
fested by the human body in its progress to death ! 

The sickness to which mankind is liable does not 
occur at any one time or age, but in an interspersed 
manner over the lifetime of each person. The con- 
stant quantity of sickness is kept up by a succession of 
diseases attacking the body at intervals and in pa- 
roxysms, which, however irregular they appear in a 
limited sphere of observation,' are really definite in 
number, and separated by stated spaces. As a certain 
order is preserved in the performances of the healthy 
functions, so their derangements, in similar circum- 
stances, also observe an order and regularity of succes- 
sion. To accuse the human frame of perpetual malady 
is as ridiculous as to attribute, with some theological 
writers, unintermitting wickedness to the human heart; 
but if every alteration of the multiplied parts of the 
human body, every transient trouble of its infinite 
movements, every indigestion in man, and every fit of 
hysteria in woman were reckoned, few days of human 
life would remain entirely clear ; and if the same scru- 
tiny were extended to the state of the brain, the world 
may very civilly be sent to Anticyra — naviget Anti- 
cyram*. In determining the amount of sickness and 
the attacks of disease, the slighter affections are there- 
fore passed over. 

The attacks of disease vary in frequency to a great 
extent in unhealthy and salubrious situations ; but the 
experience of the East India Company's labourers, of 
the children belonging to the Bennet Street School, 
which has the best regulated sick society of any in 
Manchester, and of the artizans of the Trades Club in 
Wurzburgh, all receiving pay during sickness, and only 
falling on the funds in cases of some duration and 
severity, tends to show that 100 of the efficient male 
population of this country are not liable to more than 
25 severe attacks of disease in the year. Each man 
is liable to a protracted disease, disabling him from 
work, every four years : this forms one great section of 
the sickness of the country ; but it does not include 
accidents from fighting and drunkenness, or the many 
ailments which make men apply for medical advice while 
they carry on their occupation, comprising, perhaps, 
as many more cases of a slighter character, which raise 
to fifty per cent, the proportion of the population 
attacked annually. 

External circumstances have the greatest influence 
in augmenting the attacks of diseases; age, and the 
internal state of the body, determine their mortality 
and duration. When the people of this country are 
placed amidst destructive agencies, these, like balls in 
battle, carry them off by attacking a greater number ; 
they also add to the fatality of the attack ; but after a 
man is seized, age and vital tenacity, exclusively of 
medicine, are the great modifiers on which his life and 
sufferings depend. In epidemics the attacks generally 
become much more fatal at the same time that they are 
more numerous. 

Men placed in the same circumstances appear equally 
liable to an attack of sickness between eleven and sixty 
years of age. One hundred of the London labourers, 

* The phrase or adage, naviget Jntwyram, has reference to the 
fact that sick persons were in the habit of resorting to Anticyra 
for the purpose of procuring hellebore, for which the place was 
famous. There were several towns of this name, but the prin- 
cipal Anticyra was a city in Phocis, on a small isthmus which 
joins a peninsula in the Gulf of Corinth, 

in each of the decennial periods, 20 — 30, 30 — 40, 
40—50, 50—60, had nearly 23' 5 attacks of siekness 
annually; the highest number was 26*4, the lowest 

The mean duration of each case of disease appears to 
increase as age advances. So, also, the mortality among 
the attacked augments with age at the same rate as the 
mortality among the entire number living. The sick 
time increases with age iu a geometrical progression. 
If, therefore, the number of attacks at each age be the 
same, the duration of each attack will increase in the 
same ratio; and conversely, if the duration of the cases, 
and the sick time, augment at the same rate, the num- 
ber of attacks at every age will be equal. 

The diseases proving fatal in childhood, manhood, 
and old age, are not the same : to determine, therefore, 
the peculiar diseases — the nature of the dangers — we 
have to encounter at different periods of life, becomes a 
most important problem. Very few statistical obser- 
vations exist in which the deaths from each disease, at 
different ages, are enumerated. The observations of 
Dr. Heysham, at Carlisle, where he collected the facts 
on which the ' Carlisle Table ' is formed ; the diseases 
of which 4,095 persons, assured in the Equitable Office, 
died ; the bills of mortality of the Anglo- American 
population in Philadelphia, are, we believe, the only 
data of the kind yet published, either in Europe or 
America *. 

In proportion as a population becomes civilized, and 
as its physical condition and mental life are amelio- 
rated, the deaths from apoplexy appear to increase, 
while the fevers and plagues of the state of barbarism 
decrease in a much more rapid ratio. 

In the first period of life (0 to 20) the eruptive 
fevers, inflammations, scrofulous and dropsical effusions, 
are most to be dreaded. In Philadelphia, two-fifths of 
the deaths were from affections of the brain and bowels. 
Who, with these facts before him, can fail to see the 
impropriety of giving children preparations of laudanum, 
spirits, or any food at first but the mother's bland milk? 
Cold often produces inflammation of the lungs in win- 
ter; but too much tenderness in this respect, and the ac- 
customing of boys to a delicate diet, weaken the consti- 
tution. Between 20 and 40, consumption, inflamma- 
tion, fevers, and epidemics, are the most deadly shafts 
of death, which, as Dr. Clarke has shown, a judicious 
course of hygiene in this period may do much to disarm. 
The same class of diseases maintain the preponderance 
till 60 ; but in the period following (60 to 80) dropsies 
and inflammations increase, while apoplexy gains a 
great ascendancy. After 65, a man should undertake 
nothing requiring great intellectual exertion or sus- 
tained energy : warmth, temperance, tranquillity, may 
prolong his years to the close of a century; a rude 
breath of the atmosphere, a violent struggle, or a shock, 
will suffice to terminate his existence. The apoplexy of 
the aged can, with care, be averted for several years ; 
but it is perhaps the natural death, the euthanasia of 
the intellectual : their blood remains pure, their solids 
firm to the last, — when a fragile artery gives way with- 
in the head, the blood escapes, and by a gentle pressure 
dissolves sensibility at its source — for ever ! The life is 
no longer there — the corporeal elements are given back 
to the universe ! 

* According to a late act providing for the registration of 
births and deaths, the causes of death are to be recorded. This 
is one of the most important clauses of that measure, and, if pro- 
perly attended to, will in a few years enable us to determine of 
what diseases the different classes of the English people die, at 
all ages, and in all circumstances. 

•,• The Office of the Society for the Diffusion of Utefal Knowledge is st 
69, Linoola's las Fields. 


Printed byWiuuuut OwwnjuA. torn* 8ta*ted Street, 

Digitized by 






Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. 



[January 21, 1837. 


[The Glutton and the Reindeer.] 

Among the plantigrade ferae, to which group it be- 
longs, no species has been so celebrated as the glutton, 
the bear itself not excepted ; but, as is too often the 
case, its celebrity has depended rather upon exaggerated 
accounts of its habits and manners, than upon a know- 
ledge of its real character. Stripped, however, of all 
false colouring, its history is interesting ; and the more 
so, inasmuch as it is little known. 

The glutton ( Gulo Luscus) is a native of the north- 
ern regions, both of the old and the new world. It is 
found in Sweden, Russia, and Siberia, as well as in the 
northern parts of America, from the coasts of Labrador 
and Davis Straits to the shores of the Pacific; and it 
even visits the islands of the Polar Sea, its bones having 
been found in Melville Island, nearly in latitude 75°. 

The first writer who has described this animal is 
Olaus Magnus. " Among all animals," he says, " which 
are regarded as insatiably voracious, the glutton in the 
northern parts of Sweden has received an express ap- 
pellation, being called in the language of the country 
Jtrffy and in German FFilfras. In the Sclavonian lan- 
guage its name is Rossomaka, in allusion to its vora- 
city ; in Latin, however, it is only known by the ficti- 
tious name of Gulo y from its habits of gorging" — {Gulo 
. Vol. VI. 

a gulositate appellator). — c Ol. Mag. Hist, de Gent. 
Sep tent.' p. 138. In North America, we may add, it 
is termed Wolverene and Quickehatch (a corruption of 
its Cree Indian name). The French Canadians call it 
Carcajou (also a corruption of the Cree term okee-coo- 

The glutton is, indeed, a voracious animal, but by 
no means formidable to man or the larger beasts 
though in proportion to its size its strength is very 
great. Its general appearance is that of a bear in 
miniature ; its head is broad and compact, and rounded 
off on every side to form the nose. The ears are short 
and rounded, and almost hidden among the fur ; the 
back is arched, the tail short and bushy, the limbs 
thick, short, and very muscular : the whole contour of 
the animal indicates vast strength, but only a small 
share of activity. In walking, the glutton places the 
entire sole of the feet on the ground, and imprints a 
track on the snow or soft earth so like that of a bear, 
that it may be easily mistaken for it. The Indians, 
however, at once distinguish the tracks by the length 
of the steps. The general colour of the fur, which is 
long and full, and much like that of a black bear, is 
dark brown, a paler band passing along each side, an^ 


Digitized by 




[January 21, 

uniting on the crupper; there are also a few irregular 
whitish markings on the throat and chest. The length 
of the head and body is two feet six inches ; of the tail 
(with its fur) ten inches. 

Slow in its movements, and destitute of activity, it 
makes up by perseverance and industry for every de- 
ficiency, and, at a steady pace, pursues its prey for 
miles, — hunts out weak or dying animals, and destroys 
hares, marmots, and birds, which it seizes unawares. 
Buffon, relying on the accounts of Olaus Magnus, Is- 
brand, and others, has contributed to render current 
the statement — which many later naturalists have con- 
sidered not incredible — that it has recourse to the 
most subtle artifice in order to surprise its victims; — 
and that it lurks in the branches of trees until the rein- 
deer approaches to browse beneath, or the elk to take 
repose, when it throws itself upon them with unerring 
rapidity, fixes its strong claws in their skin, and begins 
at once to tear and devour, till the wretched sufferer, 
exhausted by pain and loss of blood, sinks down and 
miserably dies, — when it devours the carcase at its 
ease, leaving nothing but the skin and skeleton. 
Gmelin, in his account of his journey through Siberia, 
after quoting the statement of Isbrand, adds, — " This 
address of the glutton in managing to seize animals by 
surprise is confirmed by all the hunters." * * " Al- 
though it feeds on all animals, living or dead, it prefers 
the reindeer. It lies in wait for large animals, as a 
robber on the highway, — and it also surprises them as 
they lie asleep." He also adds; that it visits the traps 
and snares of the fur-hunters of Siberia, for the sake of 
the animals taken in them ; and that the hunters of the 
Isatis (Cossac fox) complain bitterly of the mischief 
which the glutton does. This description of the injury 
suffered by the fur-hunters from its depredations in a 
great measure tallies with that of Dr. Richardson, who, 
in allusion to the glutton, or wolverene, of the northern 
regions of America, says, that it is " a carnivorous 
animal, which feeds chiefly upon the carcases of beasts 
that have been killed by accident. It has great 
strength, and annoys the natives by destroying their 
hoards of provision, and demolishing their marten-traps. 
It is so suspicious that it will seldom enter a trap itself, 
but, beginning behind, pulls it to pieces, scatters the 
logs of which it is built, and then carries off the bait. 
It feeds also on meadow-mice, marmots, and other 
Rodenlia, and, occasionally, on disabled quadrupeds of 
a larger size. I have seen one chasing an American 
hare, which was at the same time harassed by a snowy 
owl. It resembles the bear in its gait, and is not 
fleet, but it is very industrious, and no doubt feeds well, 
as it is generally fat. It is much abroad in the winter, 
and the track of its journey, in a single night, may 
often be traced for many miles. From the shortness of 
its legs, it makes its way over the snow with difficulty ; 
but when it falls upon the beaten-track of a marten- 
trapper, it will pursue it for a long way. Mr. Graham 
observes, that the wolverenes are extremely mischievous, 
and do more damage to the small-fur trade than all the 
other rapacious animals conjointly. They will follow 
the marten-hunter's path round a line of traps extend- 
ing forty, fifty, or sixty miles, and render the whole 
unserviceable merely to come at the baits, which are 
generally the head of a partridge or a bit of dried 
venison. They are not fond of the martens themselves, 
but never fail of tearing them in pieces, or of burying- 
them in the snow by the side of the path, at a consider- 
able distance from the trap. Drifts of snow often con- 
ceal the repositories thus made of the martens from the 
hunter, in which case they furnish a regale to the 
hungry fox, whose sagacious nostril guides him uner- 
ringly to the spot. Two or three foxes are often seen 
following the wolverene for this purpose." 

Of all animals on which the wolverene habitually 

preys, the beaver is said to be the one which suffers the 
most from its ferocity, and this the more especially as 
that aquatic animal is slow on land, and cannot escape 
pursuit. It is only, however, during the summer that 
the beaver thus falls a victim to its enemy; for in the 
winter the beaver is safely housed, the walls of its habi- 
tation not only being thick and solid, but frozen as 
hard as stone,— defying the attempt of any animal, 
by means of its claws, however strong, to effect an 
entrance. Buffon applies the term " vautour drt 
quadra pedes " (the vulture of quadrupeds) to the 
glutton, adding that it is more insatiable, more de- 
structive than the wolf, and that, were it not for its 
want of agility, it would exterminate every animal. 
Of its voracity there is no doubt ; but the term " vul- 
ture of quadrupeds " is by no means appropriate. 

With respect to the stratagem so universally attri- 
buted to the glutton of lurking on the branches of 
moss-grown trees, and even of enticing the reindeer to 
approach by throwing down the lichen on which this 
animal feeds, Dr. Richardson observes, that it is not 
resorted to by the American wolverene, and he appears 
to disbelieve the account. Desmarest, however, adopts 
it as an authenticated fact, relying on the authority of 
the early writers. There are probably some details con- 
nected with this belief which would explain its apparent 
exaggeration. That the glutton may steal upon the 
reindeer asleep, or attack weak or dying deer, or young 
fawns, is very probable ; but that it is capable of such 
artifice and address as are implied in the account 
alluded to, requires to be better authenticated before it 
can be received as truth. Gmelin himself throws a 
doubt upon it, for one of those animals having ad- 
vanced into the midst of a party of labourers with grave 
*nd deliberate steps, as if stupidly indifferent to danger, 
ind having suffered itself to be dispatched without re- 
sistance, he adds, u After th.e tales which the hunters 
of Siberia for many years l)ad told me of the address 
of this animal, iu supplying by stratagem the agility 
denied iuby nature, and in avoiding the snares of man, 
I was very much astonished to see this come delibe- 
rately, and as if on purpose, in the midst of us, to seek 
its own destruction. 

When attacked by other animals the glutton fights 
desperately, and three stout dogs are said to be scarcely 
its match. Isbrand says, that a Waivode, who kept 
one tame, threw it one day into the water, and set upon 
it a couple of dogs, when it immediately seized one by 
the head and held it under water till it was drowned. 
It does not, however, defend itself so energetically 
against man, from whose presence it usually endea- 
vours to escape, and is easily dispatched by a hunter 
with no other weapon than a stick. In Lapland the 
glutton is common, and Scheffer, in his • History of 
Lapland,' informs us that it not only preys upon wild 
animals, but commits havoc among such as are domes- 
ticated, and even among fish. This statement reminds 
us of a well-authenticated account of a polecat, related 
by Bewick on his own knowledge, resorting to the 
water for prey. " During a severe storm, one of these 
animals was traced on the snow from the side of a 
rivulet to its hole at some distance from it. As it was 
observed to have made frequent trips, and as other 
marks were seen on the snow, which could not easily 
be accounted for, it was thought a matter worthy of 
closer examination ; its hole was accordingly exa- 
mined, the foumart (polecat) taken, and eleven fine 
eels were discovered to be the fruits of its nocturnal 
excursions. The marks on the snow were found to 
have been made by the motion of the eels in the crea- 
ture's mouth." 

The glutton is for the most part nocturnal, prowling 
all night in quest of food, and, however severe the 
weather, its tracks, and the proofs of its rapine are 

Digitized by 





always to be found : it does not hybernate, as does the 
bear in the high northern latitudes, but remains in full 
activity throughout the year; it digs holes in which to 
conceal itsel f, and leads a solitary life, depending upon 
its unassisted resources. The bodily strength is almost 
incredible, avnd the depredations it is thus enabled to 
commit, would in many cases be attributed to human 
plunderers rather than to this nightly prowler, were not 
the proofs indisputable. Hearne mentions that on one 
occasion the greater part of a pile of wood, measuring 
upwards of seventy yards round, had been entirely 
disarranged in the course of a few weeks by a single 
wolverene, for the purpose of securing some meat that 
had been placed there for the sake of concealment; 
amongst this pile were many trees of such dimensions 
as to require two men to lift them. The fact that a 
work of such labour was here executed by a creature 
not larger than a setter might have been questioned, 
but having taken place during the winter season, the 
impressions that were discovered on the snow placed it 
beyond all doubt. 

The fur of the glutton is in much request, that of the 
Siberian animal is the finest, being very glossy and 
approaching to black. The female produces once a- 
year, the cubs being from two to four in number; their 
fur is soft, downy, and of a pale yellowish white. 

The Records and State Papers of this kingdom had for 
a long period been much neglected. Some time since, 
a Commission was appointed to examine into their 
state, and make arrangements for rendering them 
useful. Subsequently, a select Parliamentary Com- 
mittee has been examining info the proceedings under 
the Commission, and have just published an immense 
folio volume, containing their Report and the evidence 
brought before them. The subject is a very important 
one, and we may possibly recur to it ; but in the mean 
time the following extract from the evidence of Mr. 
Henry Cole shows the existence of a degree of indif- 
ference to the due care and preservation of such docu- 
ments which would be ridiculous if of less consequence. 
It is to be premised that the recbrds alluded to had 
been removed more than once, on difFerent accounts, 
and that their last removal had been from Westminster 
Hall. Mr. Cole says : — 

" The great bulk of those regarded as Miscellaneous 
Records, which comprised records of ail periods from 
Richard I. to George IV., were heaped together in two 
large sheds or bins in the King's Mews. The dimen- 
sions of the larger of these sheds were, 14 feet in height, 
14 feet in width, and 16 feet in depth ; of the smaller, 
the dimensions were 10 feet in height, 5 feet in width, 
and 16 feet in depth. In these sheds, 4 136 cubic feet of 
national records were deposited, in the most neglected 
condition, besides the accumulated dust of centuries. All, 
when these operations [of sorting and arranging] com- 
menced, were found to be very damp; some were in a state 
of inseparable adhesion to the stone walls; there were 
numerous fragments which had only just escaped entire 
consumption by vermin ; and many were in the last 
stage of putrefaction. Decay and damp had rendered 
a large quantity so fragile as hardly to admit of being 
touched ; others, particularly those in the form of rolls, 
were so coagulated together that they could not be un- 
coiled. Six or seven perfect skeletons of rats were 
found imbedded, and bones of these vermin were gene- 
rally distributed throughout the mass; and, besides 
furnishing a charnel-house for the dead, during the 
first removal of these national records, a dog was em- 
ployed in hunting the live rats, which were thus dis- 
turbed from their nests. 1 1 was impossible to prosecute 
any measure of assorting, whilst the records remained 

in this position ; indeed, a slow process of selecting or 
separating any portions' could not have been thus 
endured, even by the greatest physical strength, or the 
greatest stock of patience. The first step taken was to 
divide the mass into small and approachable portions. 
Accordingly, three Irish labourers, besides superintend- 
ing assistance, together with the dog aforesaid, were 
employed, during a fortnight, in removing this deposit 
of national records, and placing it in sacks ; and nothing 
but strong stimulants sustained the men in working 
among such a mass of putrid filth, stench, dirt, and de- 
composition. In this removal, not less than 24 bushels 
of dust and the most minute particles of parchment and 
paper were collected; 500 sacks of national records 
were filled from these sheds, each sack containing eight 
bushels; so that from this locality alone 4000 bushels of 
every species of record were obtained. From various 
other parts of the King's Mews about 800 bushels of 
records were collected. ,, 

'* Was any cat found ? " — *' A cat was subsequently 
found ; and if the Committee are disposed to see it, I 
can produce it, as well as the skeletons of the rats." 
[The IVitness produced and exhibited to the Committee 
the remains of a cat and some rats.] 


[Continwd from No. 3070 

In the * Annuaire,' published by the Bureau des Lon- 
gitudes, the consumption 6f butter in Paris in 1834 is 
stated to have amounted in value to 420,070/ ; and 
the consumption of eggs in the same year is valued at 
176,583/. No estimate is given of the value or quan- 
tity of fresh cheese annually consumed, but it probably 
equals the consumption of dry cheese, which is valued 
at 46,000/. a-year. There are several places in France 
celebrated for the quality of the cheese which they pro- 
duce, and amongst the better cheeses may be named 
the frontages de Roquefort, in the department of the 
Aveyron ; those of the Mont d'Or, in the Puy-de-Dome ; 
of Neufchatel, in the Seine Inferieure; of Montpellier; 
of Sassenage, in the Isere ; of Marolles ; of Langres ; 
of Brie ; of the department of the Cantal ; besides 
many others. The peculiar qualities of some of thefti 
are owing to their being made with goats' milk, and 
also with the milk of ewes. Some of the above-men- 
tioned descriptions of cheese are dry and others are fresh. 
There is also a tolerably large consumption of Swiss 
cheese, principally of the kind called Gruyere. The 
common round Dutch cheese is also in request, and 
occasionally Cheshire and Gloucester cheese may be 
seen in the stores of some of the principal purveyors, 
who ransack the world for the gratification of the gour- 
mand. The value of the cheese annually imported into 
France amounts to above 650,000/. per annum, and 
about one-sixth of this amount is exported. In Lon- 
don the consumption of butter is believed to average 
about 20 lbs. for each person per year, and the con- 
sumption in Paris is probably about one-fourth less. 
There is, however, the greatest difference as to the 
manner in which butter is used in the two capitals, the 
Chief consumption being at the morning and afternoon 
meal in London, while there is no repast in France 
which answers to that one which, amongst the great 
majority of the people, follows that of dinner in Eng- 
land ; and butter does not necessarily form part of a 
French breakfast, so that the quantity consumed is 
almost wholly employed in culinary preparations. The 
butter brought to the Paris market is in large masses or 
lumps, in a fresh state ; and instead of being conveyed 
in barrels, is wrapped up in cloths, as shown in the 
engraving. It is sold in the market by auction. The 
present market- house was erected for the accommoda- 
tion of the dealers in 1822, and is of a triangular form, 

D 2 

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[Janqaky 21, 

[Market for Butter, Eggs, and Cheese at Paris. j 

the roof being supported by stone pillars. It is lighted 
from the top by a glazed cupola, beneath which is the 
bureau de vente, v\ here the auctioneer and his assistants 
stand. The market opens every day at noon. On 
Monday and Friday the country people in the neigh- 
bourhood bring their butter and eggs ; on Tuesday the 
market is open only for the sale of cheese ; on Wed- 
nesday, the butter of Isaigny, a place some distance 
from Paris, is exclusively sold ; and on Thursday and 
Saturday, only the butter of Gournay, a small town in 
the department of the Seine Inferieure. Normandy is, 
indeed, the great source from whence Paris draws its 
supply of food. 

In the ' Penny Magazine,' No. 306, some remarks 
were made as to the principles which were brought 
into operation in supplying large capitals with food, 
and it was intimated that in the course of the French 
Revolution some striking examples occurred which ex- 
hibited the consequences attending the derangement of 
these principles; and as a brie/ notice of these circum- 
stances might prove interesting and not be altogether 
uninstructive, the present opportunity is taken for giving 
the details which were then promised. In a pamphlet 
published by Mr. Burke, in the year 1795, entitled 
* Thoughts and Details on Scarcity, 1 he commenced his 
work as follows: — "Of all things an indiscreet tamper- 
ing with the trade of provisions is the most dangerous, 
and it is always worst in the time when men are most 
disposed to it : that is, in the time of scarcity. Because 
there is nothing on which the passions of men are so 
violent, and their judgment so weak, and on which 
there exists such a multitude of ill-founded prejudices." 
These truths have been applicable to all times, but it 

will be seen that they were peculiarly so during the 
period in question. 

The public anxiety in Paris respecting the supply of 
provisions was awakened in 1789, the year in which the 
States-General were assembled. One of the political 
parties into which the country was divided had, previous 
to the harvest, dispatched couriers into the provinces 
with alarming rumours that the " brigands," employed 
by the enemies of the national regeneration, had the 
intention of cutting down the corn before it was ripe. 
The object of this proceeding was to arm the people 
in support of the national rights, though it is contended 
by some that it was the opponents of change who had 
adopted this course, calculating upon the support of the 
country against the violent partisans of the revolution. 
At all events it had the effect of arming the whole of 
France. The alarm thus engendered proved most in- 
jurious to the public confidence, and the rich farmers, 
instead of bringing their produce into the markets, 
preferred waiting the arrival of quieter times. As 
supporters of the Revolution, Necker and Baillv, 
fearing that its success would be prejudiced by popu- 
lar tumults arising from the scarcity of food in Paris, 
made great sacrifices for the supply of the capital, 
but without much success. The markets were ill-sup- 
plied, and prices became excessively high; land carriage 
was difficult and expensive, owing to the necessity of 
recurring to a wider range of markets ; and robberies 
were frequently committed on the road, for the scarcity, 
though most severely felt in Paris, pressed upon the 
whole country. On the 5th of October, a tumult which 
originated with the market-women of Paris, occasioned 
the celebrated movement of the populace to Versailles, 

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whither they marched in disorderly masses, uttering 
cries tor bread. The distance of this place is about 
twelve miles from Paris, and the journey there and 
back could not be performed by such a multitude in a 
single day. During the night a tolerable degree of 
order was preserved, but early in the morning the 
palace was forcibly entered, and the queen had barely 
time to leave her sleeping apartment. The state of 
ignorance in which the people had been kept may be 
judged of by the fact of their believing that proceedings 
of this nature could by any oossible means have the 
effect of restoring plenty. 

Three years afterwards, in 1792, the harvest was 
late, and owing to the number of men required for the 
armies, the threshing out of the grain had not proceeded 
very actively; but, as in 1789, other causes of a more 
powerful nature were at work. Under ordinary cir- 
cumstances, the farmer would have availed himself of a 
period of high prices to dispose of his grain, and labour, 
which was deficient, would have been stimulated by 
higher wages. The employment most profitable for 
the moment would have invited all the disposable 
labour at hand, and abundance would soon have been 
visible in the markets. This would have taken place if 
the natural circumstances under which men act had 
been allowed their free operation ; but a number of 
vexatious regulations had been adopted with a view of 
forcing supplies into the markets. The most absurd 
ideas were fermenting in men's minds, and the sans 
culottes had raised a clamour against the large farmers, 
whom they designated as " aristocrats," a term which a 
short time afterwards was sufficient to bring a man to 
the scaffold. The surplus produce of a large farm is 
greater in proportion than that of a small farm ; but, 
said these economists, the large farms ought to be 
divided. The more fiercely the farmers were attacked, 
the less disposed were they to expose themselves to the 
risk of pillage, atid to injurious regulations; and of 
course the scarcity became greater. The supplies which 
were furnished being small, were sold at an exorbitant 

These difficulties were increased by the creation of a 
new paper money, intended to represent the national 
domains, the property of the church, and the estates of 
the emigrants, which the National Convention had 
taken into its hands, for the purpose of defraying the 
expense of the war. To put in circulation the value of 
this property the assignats were resorted to. They 
were intended to represent this property, and as it 
found purchasers the assignats were to be called in. 
The value of this money fluctuated from day to day, for 
if the revolution lost the ascendancy in the nation, and 
the ancient state of things was restored, it was con- 
ceived that the currency which the revolution had 
created for its own purposes and wants would be dis- 
honoured, and of no value ; and the fear that all sales 
of public property would become null and void kept 
back purchasers. Nevertheless, the quantity of assi- 
gnats emitted was prodigious, and their value, as com- 
pared with specie and merchandise, was constantly 
diminishing, as they remained in circulation without re- 
presenting an equivalent value. The working classes, 
who received their wages in assignats, could not com- 
mand the necessaries of life. Not only bread, but 
sugar, coffee, candles, and soap doubled their prices. 
The washerwomen complained to the National Con- 
vention that they paid thirty sous for soap which they 
formerly obtained for fourteen sous. The people were 
told to ask a higher price for their labour, in order 
that the proportion between their wages and the price 
of consumable articles might be re-established; but 
this arrangement they could not effect, and they de- 
nounced as objects of vengeance those whom they 

termed the mercantile aristocracy. On the 25th of 
February, 1793, Marat addressed the people in his 
newspaper, stating that the only means of putting an 
end to the evils of which they complained was to pillage 
the shops, and to hang up the shopkeepers at their own 
doors. This advice was followed : at first the shop- 
keepers were compelled to sell their commodities at half- 
price ; and the next step, and -it was scarcely in any degree 
more unjust, was to take them without paying anything 
at all. The difficulties of the shopkeepers themselves 
were not less than those which the other classes of the 
people endured. They were backward in disposing of 
their goods in exchange for a currency whose value 
underwent daily changes, but they willingly sold if 
payments were made in coin, as the metallic currency 
alone remained the real standard of value. The gene- 
ral distribution of the necessaries of life became impos- 
sible under these circumstances. The people who re- 
ceived only assignats in vain endeavoured to procure 
the necessaries of life in exchange for them. 

Amidst these harassing difficulties, it was determined 
that, as the anticipated value of the national property 
had been put into forced circulation, it was necessary 
to sustain its value by forced means. The Convention 
decreed that, whoever was found guilty of exchanging a 
higher (nominal) value^ of assignats against a smaller 
quantity of coin, silver or gold, should be punished 
with imprisonment in irons for six years ; and that the 
same penalty should be inflicted upon whoever stipu- 
lated for a different price for payments made in paper 
or specie. Notwithstanding these heavy penal enact- 
ments, it was impossible that the difference in value 
which was inseparable from the two species of money 
should not have its due action in some shape or other. 
In June, a franc in coin was worth three francs in 
assignats; and in August, only two months afterwards, 
a franc in silver was worth six assignats. Merchants 
and shopkeepers refused to sell their commodities at 
the same price as formerly, because payment was 
offered to them in a currency which had no more than 
a fifth or sixth of its value. Persons in official em- 
ployments, the creditors of the state, and creditors 
generally, could not live upon their deteriorated pro- 
perty or income, and the working-classes were in the 
greatest distress. It was suggested, as a means of 
remedying the general misfortunes, that a fixed price 
should be set upon all merchandise and produce. The 
law had decreed that an assignat was worth so many 
francs, and had prohibited payments being made or de- 
manded of so many assignats as made up the difference 
in value between the assignat in paper and in coin ; 
but it was necessary to advance a step further, and to 
fix a value upon all saleable articles. In May, 1793, 
the Convention passed a decree by which the farmers 
and corn-dealers were obliged to declare the quantity of 
grain they had in stock, to thresh out that which was 
in ear, — to carry the produce into the markets, and 
into the markets only, — and to sell it, not at a price 
determined by the nature of things, but at a price fixed 
upon by the revolutionary authorities in each parish, 
which price was based on the prices of an anterior 
period. Nobody was permitted to buy more than was 
required for his personal wants for a period not exceed- 
ing one month ; and those who bought or sold at a 
price higher than that which had been fixed upon by 
the above-mentioned authorities were punished with 
confiscation, and penalties of from 12/. to 40/. Domi- 
ciliary visits were made for the purpose of verifying the 
statements of the farmers and dealers. The revolu- 
tionary authorities of Paris framed regulations which 
were to be strictly observed by the inhabitants on re- 
ceiving their supply of bread from the bakers. Cards 
were delivered, on which was stated the quautity of 

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[January 21, 

bread to which the bearer was entitled, the proportion 
being according to the number of each family. The 
revolutionary committees even regulated the order to 
be observed in applying at the bakers. A cord was to 
be attached to the baker's door, and each person as he 
arrived took hold of it, and was served in his proper 
turn. The cord was sometimes cut by mischievous 
persons, when tumults ensued, and the armed force was 
called in to quell the disturbance. It must be re- 
marked that all this time there was no real scarcity of 
corn in the country. The immense task o/ supplying 
Paris with bread, which the government had taken 
upon its shoulders, the vexatious regulations of minor 
authorities, were each the consequence of a derange- 
ment and subversion of the ordinary principles of sup- 
ply and demand, which these authorities had brought 
about by a system of interference with private interests. 
One step was necessarily followed by another. The 
circulation of the assignats being forced, it became ne- 
cessary to fix prices within rigid limits, to force sales, 
and to regulate even the hour, the quantity, and the 
mode of distribution. As many of the dealers closed 
their shops, in order to avoid the ruin with which they 
were menaced by the system of interfering with their 
concerns, they became the objects of hostile denuncia- 
tions. At the same time the supplies intended for the 
capital were pillaged on the highways, and on the 
canals and rivers. The authorities endeavoured to 
repress these outrages, and Pache, the mayor, caused 
the following address to be posted on the walls of 
Paris : — 

" The Mayor Pache to his Fellow- Citizens : 
"Paris contains 700,000 inhabitants. The soil of 
Paris produces nothing for their nourishment or their 
clothing, and it follows that everything must be ob- 
tained from other departments and from abroad. If 
produce and merchandise intended for the markets of 
Paris are pillaged, the producers and manufacturers 
will cease to send supplies. Paris will no longer be 
able to obtain either clothing or the means of support- 
ing its numerous inhabitants, and 700,000 starving 
men will devour each other! " 

In spite of this appeal to common sense it was impos- 
sible to restore confidence, and the markets were nearly 
unsupplied. The Convention endeavoured to remedy 
this by an increased severity, and it was enacted that 
all sales which did not take place in the public markets 
should subject the seller to the punishment of death. 
The most vexatious and inquisitorial means were re- 
sorted to for the purpose of securing attention to this 
regulation. Every merchant and dealer was required 
to make a declaration of the amount of his stock, and 
fraudulent attempts to conceal the real quantity sub- 
jected the unhappy individual to capital punishment. 
Persotis distinguished for their attachment to the revo- 
lution were appointed in each parish, and they fixed the 
price of all saleable commodities at a rate which it was 
presumed would leave a moderate profit, and not be 
beyond the means of the poor consumers ; but, never- 
theless, sales were to be made whether any profit re- 
mained or not. These inflexible regulations occasioned 
a still greater number of dealers of all kinds to close 
their shops. The retail dealers were alone subjected 
to them at first, but it was soon apparent that the pro- 
ducers ought also to be under their control. The retail 
dealer was not in a position in which he could influence 
the price of the raw material, or the rate of wages paid 
to the workmen by whom it was prepared for the mar- 
ket ; and, in order to avoid enormous losses, they sold 
none but articles of the most inferior quality at the 
prices fixed by the authorities. The butchers bought 
cattle which had died, and the bakers did not half bake , 

the bread, in order to make it weigh heavier. Thej 
reserved articles of the best quality for those who came 
in a secret manner and paid the full value. These 
practices were suspected by the people, and they de- 
manded that all the dealers should be compelled to 
keep open their shops and continue their trade ; and 
that the regulations enacted for their observance should 
be strictly obeyed. Chaumette, the Procureur-General 
of the Commune of Paris, threatened that the shops 
and manufactories which had been closed should be 
taken in possession on behalf of the Republic, with all 
the goods and materials which they contained. 

[To be concluded in oar next.'} 


A clear and satisfactory sketch of the history of chi- 
valry, or knighthood, is somewhat difficult to accom- 
plish. Romance and reality are so mixed up in our 
notions of it that they can hardly be separated. Ideal 
chivalry and the chivalry of history are two distinct 
things: yet their influences and characteristics, like 
warp and woof, are interwoven ; and (to carry on the 
figure) the dark ground of the real is relieved by the 
brilliant colours of the imaginative. 

Perhaps the nearest analogy to our notions of chi- 
valry may be found in what were, until a comparatively 
recent period, our notions of the character and condition 
of the North American Indians. Looking at them from 
a distance and through the medium of the imagination, 
they appeared the noblest of the different races of un- 
civilized man. Brave, resolute, patient, hospitable to 
the stranger though implacable to his foe, as grave at 
the council-fire as fierce in battle, and though sparing 
in speech, yet truly eloquent when roused to words, the 
Red Man of the forest seemed a concentration of the 
rude virtues of savage life. There was just so much 
truth in this as to make us wish and believe that the 
picture was true throughout. But a nearer view of his 
character and condition dispels the illusion, and reveals 
wretchedness, degradation, and misery, accompanied by 
unromantic passions and habits over which the imagi- 
nation had drawn a veil. 

The pictures of chivalry which have been given us, 
not merely by poets and romancers (for they may claim 
their privilege), but by historians, professing to write 
grave and authentic facts, have been calculated to foster 
all our illusions. In thinking of chivalry, we naturally 
imagine a system in which nobility, valour, generosity, 
courteousness, beauty, and accomplishments, are all 
combined. We see the knight, his helm crowned with 
nodding plume, bearing his emblazoned shield, mounted 
on his gallant war-steed, and gaily " pricking o'er the 
plain ;" the lady of his affection presiding at some 
tournament, as the queen of beauty and of love, or 
inspiring her lover with enthusiasm to accomplish deeds 
of arms; and these principal personages are surrounded 
with every circumstance calculated to cheat the judg- 
ment into a belief of the reality of the picture. 

The reason or cause of this lies deep in human na- 
ture. The earliest and the largest portion of the litera- 
ture of every nation belongs to the imagination. It is 
ever prone to embody its creations of the fair and beau- 
tiful in human shape ; — it is ever bent on acting on the 
principle expressed by the old poet, quoted in Words- 
worth's * Excursion : ' — 

" Unless above himself he can 

Erect himself, how poor a thing is man ! '' 

The things, therefore, which the imagination busies 
itself about are those which touch the affections and 
interest of man. In a rude and warlike nation, fight- 
ing is the favourite theme. From the earliest period of 

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the world the poet has magnified the exploits and cha- 
racters of heroes, — and sung of the one slaying his 
thousands, and the other his tens of thousands. Set- 
ting aside the literature of other countries, what a large 
amount of our own is thus occupied ! 

Chivalry and Knighthood have been long synony- 
mous terms. They are different, however, in their 
origin. We take chivalry from the French (from cheval, 
a horse), and the French took it, like the Spaniards 
and Italians, from the Latin. It has the same origin 
as our word " cavalry," and simply means, in its 
primitive sense, military service on horseback. The 
word 4< knighthood " comes from the German or Saxon 
" knight," which was used primarily to designate a 
servant, and then the immediate body-attendants or 
servants of the feudal lord. The two terms gradually 
came to mean the same thing. From the personal 
distinction which was attached to the office of a knight, 
and the importance and superiority which a body of 
well-armed horsemen had over large numbers of in- 
fantry, knighthood was a personal distinction ; — a man 
might be a knight without reference to any other title 
or dignity, or whether he had possessions or not. 
Hence, under the feudal tenures, it was assumed that 
the king could compel a man to be a knight, if he were 
possessed of a certain amount of property ; aud small 
grants were given frequently to poor knights. 

Chivalry itself is just as airy and impalpable a thing 
as Fashion, though, like that visionary monarch, it had 
its arbitrary laws and necessary accomplishments. But 
though chivalry did not exist in an organised form, the 
spirit of chivalry produced a number of institutions, 
some of which exist to this day, (and many have been 
created in modern times, in imitation of them,) which 
are known as " Orders of Knighthood." 

After the complete fall of the Roman empire, and 
the tremendous disorganization of society produced by 
it, the Feudal System arose. Under this system a large 
portion of Europe was parcelled out, and these parcels 
were again subdivided by the grants made by the chief 
holders to their more immediate attendants. All these 
lords claimed absolute dominion within their own limits. 
To become the knights, or body guard, attendants, or 
warriors of these lords, was an object of ambition to 
their dependents, especially if, by the privilege, they 
obtained the advantage of being clothed in the best of 
the rude armour of the time, and of being mounted on 
horseback. Then, as it was the custom to declare the 
youtfi a warrior, by some ceremony, such as presenting 
him with a javelin, or girding him with a sword, in 
public assembly, we may see in this the origin of all 
those ceremonies which came, in course of time, to be 
attached to the making of a knight. A great portion 
of these ceremonies were added by the church. The 
knight was sworn to be faithful to religion as well as 
to his feudal lord. We must never forget, in estimating 
influences, what religion did, even in the roughest and 
darkest times, for the elevation of motive and feeling. 

At the end of the eleventh century occurred that ex- 
traordinary irruption of barbarians on the East, which 
is known as the First Crusade. The vast numbers who 
perished in that wild adventure by sword, fire, and 
famine, naturally suggested the idea of having a better 
organized, more compact, and disciplined body than 
that of savage and tumultuous hosts, in order to con- 
quer and defend the Holy Land. Such a notion, pro- 
bably but dimly seen at first, and only developed by 
circumstances, paved the way for the formation of the 
religio- military orders of knighthood, the Knights Tem- 
plars, the Knights Hospitallers (better known as the 
Knights of Malta), and the Teutonic knights. Of the 
two first orders accounts have been already given in 
the fifth volume of the * Penny Magazine.' They were 

framed upon the feudal model, that of companionship 
or brotherhood, and obedience to a chief. But as their 
professed object was a higher one than that of mere 
plunder and conquest, religious enthusiasm being added 
to martial zeal, their formation may be termed the first 
step in the moral elevation of chivalry, or that which 
more immediately led to its being condensed into a 
system such as it afterwards became. Spain, which 
from its occupation by the Moors, presented a some- 
what analogous case to the Holy Land, had also re- 
ligio-military orders, which were founded in the twelfth 
and beginning of the thirteenth centuries. 

But a very considerable interval elapsed between the 
formation of the religious orders of knighthood, and 
the institution of lay orders. In fact lay orders were 
not created till towards the decline of the true chivalric 
period, (that is, the chivalric period of history) when 
language, character, and manners had become greatly 
modified, and even comparatively polished. For this 
we are indebted to the minstrels and the heralds. The 
minstrels began their operation on the English language 
and character after the Norman conquest ; but during 
the twelfth century both appear rude and unformed. 

Norman French was the language of the conquerors 

Anglo-Saxon that of the great bulk of the people. But 
the necessity for some communication would lead both 
parties to learn something of each other's speech. Ellis 
supposes that the Saxon language and literature began 
to be mixed with the Norman about 1180; and that 
in 1216 the change may be considered as complete. 
This supposition can only be taken in a limited sende, 
for the two languages continued to be used indepen- 
dently of each other, and the Anglo-Saxon continued 
the only speech of numbers till a much later period. 

" During the reign of our Norman kings," says Ellis, 
" a poet, who was also expected to unite with the talent 
of versifying those of music and recitation, was a regu- 
lar officer in the royal household, as well as in those of 
the more wealthy nobles, whose courts were composed 
upon the same model." The ecclesiastical minstrels 
sung the holy deeds and wonderful acts of saints : the 
lay minstrels struck another chord, and arrested the 
attention of their auditors by describing the matchless 
prowess and fearful transactions of heroes and en- 
chanters. Or if they flattered t he pride of some haughty 
noble, by exaggerating his deeds, it was nothing more 
than might be expected from them. The transition 
from praising their patrons as irresistible conquerors to 
describing them as the protectors of the weak and de- 
fenceless, was natural enough. We owe a debt of 
gratitude to these minstrels, most of whom earned their 
bread by gross flattery. By magnifying the characters 
of those whom they flattered, and ascribing to them 
virtues and accomplishments far beyond their aim, they 
created the wish to be something like the poet's fancy, 
and assisted that amelioration of manners which we 
can perceive going forward during the twelfth and 
thirteenth centuries. Along with the minstrels came 
the heralds, and assailed the vanity of the feudal lords 
on another quarter. In the early stage of the feudal 
system, genealogy and antiquity of family were little 
attended to by those who rested their merits on their 
swords. But when one generation came to succeed 
another in the possession of property, the mystic art or 
science of heraldry sprung up, and, along with min- 
strelsy, moulded the imaginary chivalry of which we 
have spoken. 

Towards the end of the twelfth century, certain cha- 
racteristics began to be associated with the name and 
profession of a knight. The rude adventurous cha- 
racter of Richard I. assisted this. But we should form 
a most erroneous notion, if, in a history of chivalry, we 
were to begin with the thirteenth century, aud passing- 

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[January 21 9 1837. 

from "one gallant deed of arms to another, exhibit 
nothing but a succession of brilliant scenes *. In the 
language of M. Sismond, " great deeds were done, and 
noble characters were formed, by this republic of gen- 
tlemen, constituted by the feudal system : but the ima- 
gination of romance writers alone could look for the 
courtesy and elegance which are the charm of society 
under these rough and austere forms. The haughtiness 
of the knight or baron inclined him to a solitary life ; 
without the walls of his castle, whenever he was no 
longer the first, whenever he received the law instead 
of giving it, his pride was wounded or alarmed. Chi- 
valrous life was a life of mutual repulsion ; and, with 
the exception of the rare occasions when the knight was 
summoned to the courts of justice, to the armies of his 
suzerain, for the, space of forty days, or to tournaments, 
equals in station avoided each other ; neither friendship 
nor social pleasures were made for those times." To 
this we may add, that tournaments were rough and 
brutal amusements, and that it was only towards the 
decline and fall of feudal chivalry that they became the 
theatrical displays which they are represented to be in 
romances. A strong proof that tournaments were dan- 
gerous assemblies is afforded by the * Statute of Arms,' 
the date of which is uncertain, but which is supposed 
to have been passed shortly before the time of Ed- 
ward III. It is stated to have been made at " the 
request of the earls, barons, and chivalry of England," 
and besides restricting the combatants to blunt weapons, 
inflicts a penalty of seven years imprisonment on any of 
the common people who came armed to see the amuse- 

Here it may not be out of place to remind the reader, 
who may have read Scott's * Ivanhoe/ and set it down 
in his own mind as a correct delineation of the state of 
society in the time of Richard I. (that is, the close of 
the twelfth century), that much of the description of 
manners there given belongs to a period upwards of a 
hundred and fifty, or rather nearer to two hundred, 
years later. Scott himself intimates this in his preface. 
He says he took for his guide the chronicles of the 
time, but that they were "dimmed by such a conglo- 
meration of uninteresting and unintelligible matter," 
that he gladly fled for relief to " the delightful pages 
of the gallant Froissart, although he flourished at a 
period so much more remote from the date of my his- * 
tory." Now the long interval between the reign of 
Richard Land the reigns of Ed ward III. and Richard II., 
during which Froissart lived, was a most important 
period. It may be compared to the years between mere 
boyhood and full-developed youth. Great changes were 
effected on character, habits, and manners. Certainly, 
the love of knightly display, and the eager thirst of the 
people for tournaments, as well as many other minor 
particulars, indicating a comparative advancement and 
refinement of manners, belong not to the early period 
to which Scott has assigned them, but to the more gay 
and polished days of Froissart. 

Still, though there was a great advance made during 
the period alluded to, the improvement must be under- 
stood as comparative. The character of Edward I., 
far-reaching as it was, and superior in many things to 
his age, shows that the chivalry of real life was behind 
that of the poets ; and the disastrous reign and death 
of Edward II., the immediate predecessor of him of 
whom it is said that " the sun of English chivalry 
reached its meridian in the reign of Edward III., 

* In the 'Award made between the king (Henry III.) and the 
Commons at Kenilworth,* 1266, printed in the 'Statutes of the 
Realm,' provision it made for the ransom of tuch " knights and 
esquires as were robbers, and principal robbers, in wars and rodes ;" 
and such as had neither lands nor goods were to be pardoned on 
■wearing by the gospels to keep the peace. 

confirm this conviction. Bat Gower, and especially 
Chaucer, flourished in the reigns of Edward III. and 
Richard II. The works of Chaucer evince not merely 
his own genius, but the rapid advances which were 
making in national manners. 

It was in the reign of Edward III. that the first 
English order of knighthood was founded. Chivalry 
became a picturesque thing, and served the double pur- 
pose of keeping retainers in training for war, and of 
amusing their leisure hours. Henry V. was a gay and 
chivalrous prince, who strove to nphold the chivalric 
spirit ; and it was in his reign that it first became a 
fashion to adorn the helmet with the " nodding plume," 
which our imaginations associate with all periods of 
chivalric history*. 

A very good idea of what the prevailing taste was, 
in these last days of active chivalry, may be gathered 
from the circumstance of the father of English printing, 
C ax ton, selecting for publication a number of the fa- 
vourite romances and chivalric tales, and also two 
works, one on the origin of chivalry, and another on 
' Faytes of Armes and Chivalry.' 

Passing over the civil wars, we come to the reigns of 
Henry VII. and Henry VIII., when the elements of 
civilization began to settle down. Chivalry supposes a 
rude and unsettled state of society, when the strong 
arm is frequently more powerful than the restraints of 
law and order. It was because the brave and gallant 
knight,— performing deeds of valour, — protecting the 
oppressed, — clearing the highways of monsters, human 
and inhuman, — inspired by a motive above the ordinary 
morality, — was a possible character, and that, in the 
hands of the poets, it often became a delightful cha- 
racter, that our ancestors were pleased by it, and at 
times tried to imitate it. But the reign of Henry V r IIL, 
down to near the close of the reign of Elizabeth, was 
the last age of chivalric splendour. Indeed, the reign 
of Elizabeth cannot be included. The transition in 
manners was rapidly going on ; and she herself marked 
it when she said, that " in former times force and arms 
did prevail ; but now the wit of the fox was everywhere 
afoot." Yet it was during this period that the chivalry 
of poetry received its noblest illustrations. — Shakspeare, 
Spenser, and Sidney embalmed it ; and Tasso, in Italy, 
threw a halo round (he First Crusade, and made all its 
horrors to disappear under the magic of * his genius. 
Cervantes also came out, not to adorn, but to laugh at 
the knight-errant : his admirable ' Don Quixote ' is 
still read for its wit and humour, when the intention of 
it, and the effect which it produced, are all but for- 
gotten. In these later days, Scott (to apply to him 
the language which he applied to Dryden), 

-" With his own immortal strain 

Hath raised the Table Round again." 

But poetry, though it may adorn and elevate life, is not 
history ; and it may not be superfluous to close this 
paper by reminding the reader that Shakspeares his- 
torical plays are not combinations of precise facts, nor 
Scott's chivalric romances unexceptionable pictures of 

In two or three papers we shall follow up this rapid 
and imperfect sketch by an account of the principal 
existing Orders of Knighthood in Europe. 

* ' British Costume,' p. 185.—' Library of Entertaining Know* 

V The Office of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge U el 
09 Unooln'a Inn Fields. 


Printed by William Clowss and Sow, Stamford Street 

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Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. 



[January 28, 1837. 


[fountain in the Place du Chatelet.] 

Water is one of the most essential necessaries of life ; 
and together with an ample or insufficient supply of 
food enables population to add to its numbers, or com- 
presses them within certain bounds. If the supply be 
scanty, or the quality unwholesome, and the evil cannot be 
remedied by artificial means, it is plain that the existence 
Vol. VI. 

of a large or thriving community is impossible. None 
but those whose poverty fixes them to a particular spot 
will reside there ; and if there should be the opportunity 
of acquiring property from the exercise of some local 
industry, those individuals who are sufficiently fortunate 
to do so, when they have become masters of their own 


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[January 28, 

movements, will be under the strongest testation to 
choose their residence elsewhere, such a district will 
never be selected by those who can fix their habitation 
where they please ; and it is therefore left to its poverty. 
A town thus situated may obtain a supply of water by 
means of aqueducts, canals, cisterns* reservoirs, hy- 
draulic machines, &c. ; and this triumph over the 
defects of situation places the inhabitants in circum- 
stances favourable to their prosperity, and manufactures 
and arts may flourish which could never have been 
pursued but for an abundant supply of this necessary 

Paris, though now well supplied with water, in 
former times often experienced the effects of scarcity, 
owing to the indifference of the authorities to the 
public wants, the concessions made to individuals and 
religious communities, and the defective nature of the 
hydraulic power employed in drawing the supply from 
its sources. Under the Roman domination, Paris ob- 
tained a supply of water by an aqueduct about five 
miles in' length, which terminated at Arcueil. During 
the period which preceded the re-establishment of order 
and security, the Normans ravaged the country, and 
this aqueduct was either destroyed or became dilapi- 
dated. Henry IV. resolved upon re-establishing the 
Roman aqueduct ; and in 1613 the first stone of the 
work was laid by Louis XIII. and his queen. It was 
found that, owing to a part of the aqueduct being car- 
ried over quarries of calcareous stone, the water perco- 
lated through the strata, and the fountains which it 
supplied became nearly dry. In 1777, the necessary 
repairs were completed at an enormous expense. The 
other sources of supply are the Seine, the Ihircq, and 
the springs of St.Gervais, Belleville, and Menilmontant. 
The aqueduct of Belleville was constructed in the reign 
of Philip Augustus, and was repaired by Henry IV. 
The aqueduct of St. Gervais, or Romainville, conveys 
the waters of Romainville and Che neighbouring heights 
into a reservoir, from whence it is conducted by leaden 
pipes to Paris. Besides these aqueducts, there are a 
number of hydraulic-machines, Uie- principal ones being 
those of the Pont Notre Dame, of Chaillot, and Of 
Gros Caillou. 

Under the reign of Philip Augustus, Paris only con- 
tained three fountains. Between his reign and that 
of Louis XIV. thirteen others were constructed, and 
during the reign of Louis XIV. the additions were 
much more numerous. From 1804 to 1812, the most 
palmy period of the Empire, the number of fountain 
erected was 17. The number of fountains Is now 
about 70; and there **<e above ISO bornes fonlaines, or 
orifices, in the public streets, tfrom which the water 

In 1608 an hydraulic machine, reconstructed by a 
Fleming, was fixed near the Pont Neut, and hi 167| a 
similar machine was placed contjgioous to $*e 'Pont 
Notre Dame. These machines were frequently o&t of 
order, and the greatest inconvenience was occasioned 
by the want of water. In 17G9 the Chevalier 4' A uxiron 
made a proposal for erecting steam-engines In certain 
positions which would obviate the defects of the old 
machines ; but no active steps were taken «otil 17^8, 
when a company, authorized by letters -patent, com- 
menced its labours. The engine at Chaillot, which 
they caused to be fixed, was the first of the kind worked 
in France : this machine was put in motion in 1782. 
In 1788 four-fifths of the Company's shares had been 
sold on the Stock Exchange for government securities ; 
and the executive being in possession of nearly the 
whole property, the engines and, the establishment of 
the proprietors passed into its hands. The supply of 
water has been vested in the government ever since. 

A want of practical talent was exhibited by the 

French more frequently in the period preceding the 
Revolution than since that change. During the rei^n 
of Louis XIV. splendid fountains were constructed, 
but when completed they benefited nobody, as the 
water for supplying them was not to be obtained, and 
they stood as if in mockery of the wants of the people. 
The same course was pursued in the succeeding reign. 
The machines for raising' water were inefficient, and 
the scarcity was great. Privileged individuals and 
religious establishments were abundantly supplied, but 
the inhabitants generally could not obtain a sufficient 
quantity. When complaints were made which could 
not be silenced, the authorities attacked the privileges 
which had been granted to individuals, or they ordered 
new fountains to be erected. The fine fountain of 
Grenelle, finished in 1739, was the result of one of 
these efforts to satisfy the public ; but for some years it 
gave no supply, and hence it was gene/ally called 
" La Trompeuse." It was not until the power of steam 
was applied to raise water that this fountain fulfilled 
the purpose of its construction. Under Louis XVI. 
the municipal authorities willingly undertook to erect 
fountains, but no plan of supplying them was seriously 
taken into consideration. Dulaure remarks, in his 
* Histoire de Paris,' that " they wished to show they 
had abundant resources, While at the same time they 
were attacked on all sides on account of scarcity : they 
were poor, and they wished to show themselves mag- 

In 1799 proposals were made for bringing the waters 
of the Ourcq to Paris, but the plan was not considered 
feasible. In 1802, however, the government gave direc- 
tions for undertaking the work, the expense of which 
was to be defrayed on t of the receipts at the barriers on 
d i Serent art icles of consumption. Various circumstances 
occasioned delays, and in 1814 a complete suspension 
of the works took place, but they were completed under 
the Restoration. The waters of the Ouroq are conveyed 
by a canal, which is navigable, into a large basin within 
the barriers, from whence the liouses, manufactories, 
and fomitaiiiSy obtain an abundant supply. The canal 
is about twenty-live miles in length, and by avoiding 
the windings of the Seine ^realty facSfi tales the con- 
veyance of goods. 

Pew houses a*e «affAiel with water fy pipes which 
convey it at once into the apartments. Hence a de- 
scription of industry has spramg up which is unknown 
in Londos, where Water ts iMonght i«*o eadi house by 
pipes ; in Paris ft h sold fey a distinct class of men, 
who carry it from feouse *© bouse au4 from family to 
family. The price ts one *ous for each pail. The 
number of ** portents 4'eau* having oaskson wheels 
exceeds 14<)0; and those who oar ry it with yokes, in the 
manner that mfllt is carried in llowdon, are still more 
numerous. It is calculated that about 190,000/. a-year 
h <paid to the water-carriers. Besides the water ob- 
tained from the fountains there is a company, or com- 
panies, iter supplying filtered water. The water-carriers 
are an' Industrious class of men, of simple habits, and 
very economical, for which they have an object sufficient 
to deter them from dissipation or ill-judged expenses. 
They indulge the hope of some day being enabled to 
possess <a slip of land in their native department. The 
wife often assists in the labour of drawing the casks, 
which are placed on wheels, and is not less an advocate 
of every plan which can ensure the completion of their 

In Madrid there is a similar class of people who are 
the exclusive water-carriers of that capital. They are 
Gallcgos and Asturians, and are several thousand in 
•number. Their ^object is to save a little fortune, and 
when this purpose is accomplished, they dispose of the 
good-will of the " walk* in which they were accus- 

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E 2 

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[January 28, 

[View of the Fall* of the Anio it TWokj 

A general description of Tivoli, the Tibur of the an- 
cients, will be found in the first volume of this Maga- 
zine, in the 34th Number ; and a view is given of the 
Temple of the Sibyl, which is the chief architectural 
embellishment of this celebrated place. We now pre- 
sent a view of its great natural attraction — the Falls of 
the Anio, as seen from the Grotto of Neptune. The 
fall and windings of this river still constitute, as they 
did in ancient times, the pride and ornament of Tivoli. 
Eustace has described them in his ' Classical Tour.' 
The modern name of the Anio is the Teverone. " This 
river,'* he says, "having meandered from its source 
through the vales of Sabina, glides gently through 
Tivoli, till coming to the brink of a rock it precipitates 
itself in one mass down the steep, and then, boiling for 
an instant in its narrow channel, rushes headlong 
through a chasm in the rock into the caverns below. 
The first fall may be seen from the window of the inn 
or from the temple; but it appears to the greatest 
advantage from the bridge thrown over the narrow 
channel a little below it. From this bridge also you 
may look down into the shattered well, and observe, 
far beneath, the writhings and agitation of the stream, 
struggling through its rocky prison. To view the 
second fall, or descent into the cavern, we went down 
through a garden, by a winding patn, into tne narrow 
dell, through which the river flows after the cascade ; 
and placing ourselves in front of the cavern, beheld the 
Anio, in two immense sheets, tumbling through two 
different apertures, shaking the mountain in its fall, 
and filling all the cavities around with spray and 
uproar. Though the rock nses to the height of two 
hundred feet, in a narrow semicircular form, clothed on 

one side with shrubs aad foliage, yet a gufficieat light 
breaks upon the cavern to show its pendent rocks, 
agitated waters, and craggy borders. About a hundred 
paces from the grotto, a natural bridge, formed by the 
water working through the rock, enables the spectator 
to pass the river, and to take another view of the cas- 
cade, less distinct with regard to the cavern, but more 
enlarged, as it includes a greater portion of the super- 
incumbent rock in front, with the shagged banks on 
both sides. The rock immediately above and on the 
left is perpendicular, and crowned with houses, while 
from an aperture at its side at a considerable height 
gushes a rill, too small to add either by its sound or 
size to the magnificence of the scenery. The bank on 
the opposite side is steep and shaggy, but leaves room 
for little gardens and vineyards. On its summit stauds 
the celebrated temple commonly called of the Sibyl) 
though by many antiquaries supposed to belong to 
Vesta." The path which leads to the Grotto of Nep 
tune is highly picturesque. 

The scenery of Tivoli is grand and striking, and the 
vicinity is rich in classical associations. Its distance 
from Rome is about twenty miles, and few visiters 
leave that city without making an excursion to a pla** 
possessed of so many claims to interest. 


(Chtefy abridged from Lt Palamede. a French Chen Journal) 

Perhaps no pieoe of mechanism nas ever afforded so 
much entertainment or caused so much discussion, a 5 
Baron Kempelen's automaton chess-player. It first 
appeared at Presburg, in 1770 ; and the best pla vcrs 

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of the town were worsted, as it seemed, by a machine. 
The automaton, adorned with a splendid turban, and 
dressed in the rich costume of an Asiatic sultan, sat 
before a chess-board placed upon a sort of cupboard, 
three feet high, two feet broad, and four feet long, and 
moving on castors. The cylinder, levers, and springs 
necessary for the machine were in the cupboard ; and 
before it was put in motion the inventor took care to 
open the doors of the cupboard alternately, and to point 
out that the quantity of clock-work with which it was 
filled made it impossible to introduce any person into it. 
As soon as an antagonist presented himself, the ex- 
hibitor took up his long iron key, and wound up the 
machinery with studied gravity, during which the click- 
ing of the wheels was distinctly heard. 

The eyes of the automaton were now directed to the 
board, and, after due meditation, he lifted up his arm, 
placed it over the piece that he intended to move, 
grasped it between his fingers, and then put it on the 
square where it was to remain. If a false move was 
made, he shook his head discontentedly, and replaced 
the piece. When the automaton gave check, his lips 
moved and uttered a hoarse sound resembling shay, 
which served as a notice to his adversary. 

Thus nothing which could favour the illusion had 
been neglected ; and though on reflection it appeared 
certain that the hand of the automaton was guided, the 
method of the communication remained a mystery. All 
eyes were turned to Kempelen, and endeavoured to 
draw from his physiognomy or gestures some hint of 
the means that he employed — but in vain. Sometimes 
he turned his back to the table, and sometimes went 
several steps from it, allowing three or four moves to 
be played before he returned : the table too might be 
moved at the will of the spectator, thus rendering all 
communication with the floor or the next room im- 
possible. The examination which had been allowed of 
the interior showed that a child or a dwarf could not be 
concealed in it ; besides, supposing that one had been 
there, how could he, at the bottom of a cupboard, 
almost hermetically sealed, see a game played on a 
board placed on the table above ? 

The mystery was long impenetrable. The automaton 
visited the capitals of Germany, England, and France ; 
he was received everywhere with great curiosity, and 
often excited the most lively transports of surprise and 
admiration. He arrived at Paris in 1783, where his 
star shone less brightly before the celebrated players 
of the Cafe de la Regence. But an automaton might, 
without blushing, confess himself beaten by a Philidor 
or a Legal le, and yet have a brilliant career before him. 
On returning to Berlin, he threw down the gauntlet to 
all the courtiers of Frederick the Great, and was even 
allowed the honour of measuring his strength with the 
king himself, a great lover of the game. In a moment 
of enthusiasm Frederick paid a large sum for the 
machine and the secret. The charming mystery was 
no more : the automaton, taken to pieces, despised, and 
covered with dust, was banished to a lumber-room in 
the palace, where he remained for nearly thirty years, 
buried and forgotten. 

When Napoleon was at Berlin, the automaton was 
rescued from his tomb, re-assumed his former spendour, 
and, proud of having triumphed over the conqueror of 
Austerlitz, continued his travels. 

After some years he arrived at the Bavarian court, 
where the ecstasy which his play never failed to excite 
was again renewed. Indeed the impression made was 
so strong, that Prince Eugene could not resist the 
temptation of becoming the possessor of this master- 
piece, and learning the secret which was at the bottom 
of so many prodigies ; his desire was satisfied, and 
the price of his initiation was fixed at 30,000 francs 

The moment had arrived when the veil was to be 
removed, and he was to become acquainted with the 
invisible genius, — the superior being that hovered over 
the chess-board. All profane eyes had been banished, 
and the Prince was alone with the exhibitor. The 
latter, by way of explanation, opened both the doors ot 
the machine at once ; — the clock-work had disappeared, 
and a real flesh-and-blood chess-player was in its place. 
He was sitting on a low bench, upon castors, and 
seemed very ill at ease. We may suppose how the new 
purchaser was disenchanted on seeing this ; — the solu- 
tion of the problem depended merely on a juggling 
trick. The cylinder, levers, and clock-work, were very 
slightly made, and could be removed at pleasure. 
While the spectator was indulged with a view of the 
machinery, the doors being opened, not at once, but 
only in succession, the player concealed himself in the 
parts not exposed to view. One or two rehearsals 
served to teach a player this exercise, as well as the 
method of turning the handle that moves the automa- 
ton's arm, of touching the elastic spring that moves 
its fingers, and of pulling the cord belonging to the 
bellows that said shay. Hence it would appear that 
this part of the secret was pretty well guessed or known 
by the author of a pamphlet, entitled 'An Attempt 
to analyse the Automaton Chess-Player of M. De 
Kempelen.' London, 1821. 8vo. After describing the 
manner in which the player may take refuge in one 
part of the machine while another is exposed to the 
spectator, he says, " When the doors in front have been 
closed, the exhibitor may occupy as much time as he 
finds necessary in apparently adjusting the machinery 
at the back, whilst the player is taking the position 
described in figs. 7 and 8. In this position he will 
find no difficulty in executing every movement required 
of the automaton : his head being above the table, he 
will see the chess-board through the waistcoat as easily 
as through a veil." 

But the ingenious author of this pamphlet, though 
right in his supposition that the game is played by a 
person concealed in the machine, is wrong in imagining 
that he sees the moves of his antagonist. The method 
by which the player becomes acquainted with the moves 
made upon the board shows a singular felicity of me- 
chanical contrivance ; but we purposely abstain from 
detailing it, that the present exhibitor may not lose all 
the advantages of mystery. 

Prince Eugene now found that keeping the auto- 
maton was useless, unless he also kept the player ; and 

he therefore allowed the proprietor, M. M , to 

carry off the wonder-working Turk, on condition of 
paying interest for the sum which had been given for 
the secret 

A pleasant story is told ot a panic that once seized 
the automaton. He had arrived at some town in Ger- 
many, where a celebrated conjuror was exhibiting his 
tricks. The automaton soon eclipsed the juggler ; the 
latter, piqued at his success, went to see him, guessed 
the secret, and, seconded by an accomplice, began to 
roar out most lustily " Fire ! Fire ! " The spectators 
ran here, there, and everywhere ; the automaton in his 
fright upset his antagonist, rolled about in the strangest 
way, and seemed to have gone mad. Fortunately, 

M. M had preserved his presence of mind, and 

pushed him behind a curtain, where his fears were soon 
calmed. Thus the juggler was defeated, and the glory 
of his rival remained untarnished. The automaton has 
passed several years in North America, and has visited 
the principal towns both of the United States and of 
Canada. He is now exercising his talents in South 

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[January 28, 


[CoMUdad fM No. 308.) 

Tub genera) violation of the principles of production 
had so completely disorganised the economy of society, 
that the proposition of the state taking possession of alt 
raw materials, and manufacturing on its own account, 
began seriously to be entertained. The ruinous con- 
sequences of such a course were overlooked amidst 
the necessities of the moment. At every step in this 
career the public difficulties increased, and the erro- 
neous principles which had given rise to them were 
still more earnestly clung to as a means of obtain* 
ing supplies. The Commune of Paris required each 
dealer in the necessaries of life to make a state- 
ment of the stock which he held, the orders which he 
had given for a fresh supply, and the expectation he 
entertained of its being received. All dealers who had 
been in business one year, if they gave up business, 
were placed on the list of disaffected persons, and as 
such were imprisoned. To prevent individuals accu- 
mulating a stock of provisions for their private con- 
sumption, the Commune issued orders that the con- 
sumer could only be supplied by the retail dealer, and 
the latter only by the wholesale dealer, and it fixed the 
quantity which each should be allowed to obtain. Thus 
the shopkeeper could not obtain more than 25lbs. of 
sngar at one time of a wholesale dealer. The cards 
authorizing the delivery of these scanty supplies were 
delivered by the revolutionary committees. The Com- 
mune did not stop here, but as the crowds which 
surrounded the bakers' shops frequently occasioned 
tumults, and many persons passed a part of the night 
in order to obtain an early supply, directions were given 
that the last comers should be served the first; but 
this neither diminished the anxiety of the people nor 
the causes of disturbance. On complaints being made 
that the worst description of bread was reserved for the 
poor, it was ordered that there should only be one sort 
of bread made in Paris, which should consist of three 
parts wheat and one part barley. 

Some delay hud taken place in applying the maximum 
to goods before they left the manufactory, but it was 
at length determined that they should be subjected to 
it ; and tables were prepared of the prices at the place 
of production three years before, and a scale of future 
prices was arbitrarily fixed, and even the rate of profit 
of the wholesale and retail dealer. The cost of car- 
riage was also settled ; so that the exact price at which 
the goods were to be sold was established before they 
reached the retail dealers. The raw materials were not 
yet comprised in the tariff, but at least one-half of the 
labours of the community were brought within the 
most absolute and vexatious rules. Commerce, however, 
endeavoured to emancipate itself from them in spite of 
the penalties by which it was surrounded ; and mer- 
chandise and produce were frequently concealed and 
_ secretly sold, or, what was worse, they ceased to be an 
object of production. 

In 1794, owing tb the war in La Vendee, from whence 
Paris drew its supplies of cattle, there was a real scarcity 
of meat. The butchers could only procure a supply at 
an exorbitant price, and, obliged to sell at the esta- 
blished prices, they endeavoured to evade the law. The 
best meat was reserved for those who could afford to 
pay a good price, and a number of clandestine markets 
were established in the neighbourhood of Paris. The 
buyers who presented themselves in the shops, and 
offered the regulation prices, either could not obtain a 
supply, or meat of the worst description was offered to 
t hem . Vegetables, fruit, eggs, butter, and other articles 
were no longer brought to market. The price of a 
cabbage was iOd. The market carts were met on the 
road, and the produce was bought up at any price. 
Paris, in the mean time, was in a state of famine. 

Great numbers of persons obtained a living by fore- 
stalling the markets, and selling provisions above the 
maximum to families in easy circumstances. The 
Commune interfered with its regulations, and directed 
that those who forestalled the markets should be sub- 
jected to the heaviest punishments, and that the supplies 
should be equally distributed in the different places of 
public sale. Persons waited around the butchers' shops 
in the same manner as at the bakers'. These mul- 
tiplied regulations did not do away with the evils com- 
plained of; and at length it was suggested that the 
public gardens should be planted with potatoes and 
other vegetables. This idea was eagerly adopted, and 
the Commune, which refused the people nothing, ac- 
ceded to the plan. The authorities had granted every- 
thing which was demanded, but as the evil did not 
decrease, the most violent and ignorant began to 
attribute the public calamities to the moderation of one 
of the parties in the National Convention ; and the 
clamour did not cease till these men were led to exe- 

The harvest of 1794 was abundant, and orders were 
given that it should be threshed out immediately. To 
prevent wages rising to an extraordinary height, nan est 
labourers were put in forced requisition, and their wages 
were settled by the local authorities. The supply of 
meat was still insufficient, and the daily consumption 
of Paris was fixed at 75 oxen, 150 cwt. of veal and 
mutton, an'd 200 pigs. These could only be slaughtered 
at one particular place, and the butchers appointed by 
each section of the capital came there fbr their sup- 
plies. The inhabitants were served in rations like an 
army in the field. Every five days each family was 
entitled to receive half a pound of meat for each indi- 
vidual. This supply couTd only be obtained on the 
presentation of a card delivered ty the proper autho- 
rities. As wodd and charcoal did not arrive, owing to 
the operation of the maximum, the supply to each family 
was limited in like manner. During this period the 
country butchers carried oh a lucrative trade, rVofltin<r 
by the negligence of the rural parishes, they bought 
cattle in the pastures, and sold it above the maximum 
in a clandestine manner. The knowledge of this fact, 
however, soon occasioned the graziers to be subjected 
to a rigorous system of inspection. 

Jn 1795 the harvest was bad, and was followed by a 
severe winter. The reign of terror was over, but it was 
not so easy to restore life to commerce. The extraor- 
dinary system of provisioning Paris not being 1 sus- 
tained by men's fears, the supplies were more deficient 
than ever. The relaxation -of the maximum was re- 
solved upon, but this not being immediately followed 
by the awakening of individual industry and confidence, 
there was every prospect of a complete dearth. Prices 
were excessive, and the Government, in order to bring 
them down, placed stores of its own at the pork- 
butchers, the grocers, and shopkeepers, to be sold at a 
cheaper rate. But this plan only led to frauds which 
defeated the intentions of the authorities. This des- 
perate state of things added to the exasperation of po- 
litical parties. " Behold, said one, " the effect of the 
abolition of the maximum;' " Look," said the other, 
" at the inevitable effect of your revolutionary measures." 
<c Repair the injustices which have been committed,' 
repeated some; " Restore the energy of the Revolution," 
said others. On the 16th of March the inhabitants 
were put upon rations. A pound of bread per day was 
given to each individual ; and a pound and a half was 
given to working men, who were also served the tirst. 
On the 26th of March the quantity of flour necessary 
for the supply of the day not having arrived, only one- 
half of the usual rations was distributed, and the re- 
mainder was promised for the end of the day. On the 
1st of April a mob, which consisted of womeu and chil- 

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dren in the first instance, created a tumult on account 
of this mode of obtaining the means of existence, which 
led to an outrageous violation of the freedom of the 

In 1796 the Directory suppressed the distribution of 
provisions by rations, hot the change was not effected 
without difficulty, and for a considerable time the Go- 
vernment was under the necessity of buying grain at 
its full value, and re-selling it to the inhabitants at a 
nominal value. The receipts scarcely equalled 1 -200th 
part of the cost of this mode of supply, and the popu- 
lation of Paris was thus pretty nearly supported at the 
expense of the remainder of the country. Rations were 
for some time longer distributed to the indigent, to the 
creditors of the State, and to public officers whose in- 
comes did not exceed 1000 crowns. The final sup- 
pression of rations to the inhabitants generally excited 
violent commotions. 

It will be perceived from the foregoing circumstances, 
thai the consequences of throwing the hopes and feel- 
ings of the industrious part of the community out of 
thenr ordinary sphere were of the most mischievous 
character ; and that the task of supplying the popula- 
tion with food by forcing the action of commerce, and 
arbitrarily interfering wifn private concerns, was found 
to be attended with perils both to individuals and to 
society. Let the system then pursued be contrasted 
with the silent operation of individual interest directed 
to the same end with such advantageous results to all 
classes. A more alarming state of things cannot be 
conceived than an immense population reduced to such 
a dilemma as the one which has been described ; and 
the folly and inutility of coercive measures is rendered 
more glaring by the tact, that, generally speaking, there 
existed no alarming deficiency in the quantity of food. 
The want of confidence in the security and stability of 
things alone rendered its distribution uncertain and 
nearly impossible. 


The method of teaching geography, which has hitherto 
been too commonly adopted, produced little other effect 
than that of fixing in the mind the mere names of things. 
The young learner was able to recollect the capital and 
two or three of the great cities and rivers of a country ; 
but of its configuration, the character of the rivers, the 
quality of the soil, and the natural productions which it 
furnished, he remained in comparative ignoiance. The 
real elements of the science are full of interest, forming 
an index to some of the leading circumstances which 
have developed the character of man, while the, vocabu- 
lary which has been substituted for it is dry and unin- 
structive. Some of the ancient aristocracies and priest- 
hoods hated the sea, because civilization, which is de- 
structive of error, was fatal to their authority, and they 
knew that there, where the means of communication, of 
intercourse and traffic existed, were to be found the 
germs of improvement ; and that the ocean, which con- 
veyed men upon its bosom to scenes removed from 
those in which they had been, brought up, led to en- 
larged and enlightened views, and prepared the way 
for a greater measure of truth. The coast-line of 
Greece and Italy was favourable to the intercourse of 
early navigation, and in those countries the human mind 
received a developeineut unknown at the time to more 
inland people. To the same element England is to 
a large extent indebted for her greatness. The long 
valley of Egypt, which is penetrated by a fertilizing 
river, witnessed the earliest efforts of human advance- 
ment, while the country beyond if, intersected by 
scarcely a river which affords the means of commercial 

intercourse, has remained stationary for many centuries. 
These instances will show that something more fertile 
in results is to be obtained from the study of geography, 
than that which a mere nomenclature of cities, rivers, 
and mountains can convey. 

It is not less interesting to observe the effects of 
geological structure in producing dissimilar conditions 
in the population, which render their habits and occu- 
pations closely connected with geological causes. * If 
a stranger, landing at the extremity of England, were 
to traverse the whole of Cornwall, and the north of 
Devonshire, and crossing to St. David's, should make 
the tour of all North Wales, and passing thence through 
Cumberland by the Isle of Man, to the south-western 
shore of Scotland, should proceed either through the 
hilly region of the border counties, or along the Gram- 
pians to the German Ocean, he would conclude from 
such a journey of many hundred miles, that Britain 
was a thinly-peopled, steril region, whose principal 
inhabitants were miners and mountaineers. Another 
foreigner arriving on the coast of Devon, and crossing 
the midland counties from the mouth of the Exe to 
that of the Tyne, would find a continued succession of 
fertile hills and valleys, thickly overspread with towns 
and cities, and in many parts crowded with a manu- 
facturing population, whose industry is maintained 
by the coal with which the strata of these districts 
are abundantly interspersed. A third foreigner might 
travel from the coast of Dorset to the coast of York- 
shire, over elevated plains of oolite limestone, or of 
chalk, without a single mountain or mine or coal-pit, 
or any important manufactory, and occupied by * a 
population almost exclusively agricultural*." 

The elements of physical geography are not actually 
beneath the eye of the inquirer; but physical topo- 
graphy, which presents some of the features of the 
same science within the more limited circle of a district 
or town, instead of a continent, or a whole country, 
offers the means of direct personal investigation. Let 
any one survey the town or district in which he resides, 
and proceed to analyze the causes to which it owes 
its origin, or its present appearance, and the process 
will be found full of interest and instruction; while it 
scarcely demands the aid of books, and may form the 
amusement of a solitary walk. If the town be an 
ancient one, it may have constituted a place of security 
from the marauders of nide times, and as men resorted 
to it that they might prosecute their callings in peace, 
it has probably once been more populous than at 
present ; but the benefits of protection being spread 
over the whole country, the advantages which it held 
out were less appreciated, the place has gone to decay, 
and the population has transferred itself to more thriving 
scenes. ^This may be taken as an example of the effects 
of political change. When wood was cheaper than 
coal, and the art of smelting iron by coal was un- 
known, there were smelting furnaces in Sussex; but 
the destruction of the forests, and the manner in which 
coal can now be applied to the conversion of iron, has 
changed the place of production from Sussex to the 
districts which possess coal mines. In some parts of 
the coast the sea has gained upon the land, and ancient 
ports have been destroyed ; and in other cases the land 
has gained upon the sea, and the port has been left dry. 
These changes, from the relation which they have to 
man and to his labours, render the scene by which they 
have been marked far from uninteresting. It is not 
useless to trace the circumstances which have created 
the seats of a particular industry. The hardware trade 
has fixed itself at Sheffield and Birmingham, because 
they are each placed in a district containing both iron 
and coal ; and when the chief moving power was the 
♦ Bucklanffa < Bridgewater Treatise.' 

Digitized by 




lJ*nujlry 28, 1837. 

water-wbeel, tht former piace, owing to the streams by 
which it is surrounded, was peculiarly adapted for the 
manufacture of edge-tools, and other articles which 
require to be sharpened and polished by the grinding- 
wheel. If the four great ports of Bristol, Liverpool, 
Hull, and London be taken, it is obvious that, from the 
situation of the two former, they are the emporiums 
which are best adapted for the commerce of America, 
the West Indies, and Ireland; and that Liverpool has 
tuts tripped its more ancient rival owing to the dis- 
tricts of Lancashire and the West Riding of Yorkshire, 
to which it is adjacent, having become flourishing 
seats of manufactures, containing one-seventh of the 
population of England, while the population which 
surrounds Bristol has not advanced in the same extra- 
ordinary ratio, and, with the exception of Gloucester- 
shire, the number of agriculturists exceeds that of any 
other class. Hull, on the eastern coast, opposite 
the northern parts of Europe, is evidently the most 
fitting station for the commerce of the Baltic and the 
North Seas: and London, which from its position 
nearer the base of the island is conveniently situated 
for carrying on its commerce with any part of the 
world, is accordingly the general emporium of mer- 
chandise and produce from every quarter of the globe. 
These statements may perhaps be considered as trite 
and obvious ; but they show the manner in which an 
observant but comparatively uninstructed person may 
always have at hand some materials for reflection cal- 
culated to exercise and improve the mind. Proceeding 
from the simple to the more complicated materials which 
this study affords, there will arise subjects for considera- 
tion calculated to task severer thought and to illustrate 
points which, throw light upon the most difficult ques- 
tions. In a little work just published, entitled, ' Popu- 
lar Politics,' there is a short chapter headed High Rents 
for Poor Land, which we extract for'the purpose of 
shewing more clearly the interesting conclusions to 
which a habit of examining into the common things 
which surround us may lead. The following extract, 
with a slight omission, comprises the whole of the 
chapter alluded to : — 

" All the land for some miles south, east, and west of 
Dunkirk (Downechureh), in France, consists naturally 
of downs of loose sand, blown up from a gaining sea- 
shore on to a deep subsoil of sand, without water, and 
as steril as the most naked rock. Yet in this district 
the rent of land is considerably higher than in the very 
fertile district which, on the opposite coast of England, 
divides the Isle of Thauet from the rest of Kent. 
Why ? * * * This is the way in which the people 
about Dunkirk account for the high rents yielded by 
their naturally steril laud. — Time was when the dis- 
trict was uninhabited, and then, of course, no rent was 
paid. But a church having been built on the barren 
downs, and its patron saint, Eloi, being in great repute, 
pilgrims flocked thither from all parts of France ahd 
the Low Countries. By this means a town was esta- 
blished. In time the inhabitants of the town con- 
structed a port ; — roads were next made from the port 
across the-downs to the populous high lands, which had 
once formed the sea-shore ; — and afterwards canals in 
various directions, the flatness and softness of the 
sandy district offering great facilities for canal-cutting. 
In the end, the means of communication became more 
abundant in this district than in any other part of 
France, as they are still ; and the result was, that the 
population of the district became very great, towns and 
villages being built at a short distance from each other; 
— that, by means of canals, clay and other manures 
were easily obtaiued, and being applied to the sand ren- 
dered it more productive than the ancient high lands of 
chalk ; while those canals, again, afforded great facili- 

ties for taking produce to market. In this way, the 
cost of production becoming less and less by means of 
art, the naturally steril downs about Dunkirk, which 
have never been used except for producing food, be- 
came more valuable, subject to a higher degree of com - 
petition, than the rich marsh-lands between Sandwich 
and Reculver, on which the population is scanty, and 
of which every acre, in comparison with any market 
in the French low countries, is distant from market." 

It may be possible, where the interests of the many 
are subordinate to those of one man, that cities and 
towns may be founded on sites almost destitute of the 
essential materials which supply the wants and con- 
tribute to the prosperity of the majority of the people. 
A town like Versailles may arise at the caprice of a 
monarch, but it may as suddenly decline from the same 
cause. At the Revolution, Versailles numbered a popu- 
lation of 100,000 souls, but it does not now con tain 
30,000. Madrid is a singular instance of the disregard 
which has been paid to natural advantages. The sur- 
rounding country scarcely supplies any of the necessaries 
of life ; and the insignificant river or stream on which 
it has been built, not being navigable, supplies of food 
are brought from remote parts of the kingdom on the 
backs of mules. It is shut out by a barrier of moun- 
tains on the north and west, which precludes the pos- 
sibility of ks becoming a seat of extensive commercial 
interest. The soil of Genoa is equally ill adapted for 
furnishing supplies of the necessaries of life ; bat its 
superior situation as a sea-port has enabled the Ge- 
noese, aided by a wise commercial system, to overcome 
the disadvantages to which they would have been con- 
demned had they not turned their attention to other 
resources than that of agriculture. 

The surveyor-general for the colony of South Aus- 
tralia, before leaving England, received instructions to 
select as sites for towns those which comprised in the 
highest degree the following natural advantages: — 
1. A commodious harbour, safe and accessible at all 
seasons of the year. 2. A considerable tract of fertile 
land immediately adjoining. 3. An abundant supply 
of fresh water. 4. Facilities for internal communica- 
tion. 5. Facilities for communication with other ports. 
6. A supply of building materials, as timber, stone or 
brick, earth, and lime. 7. Facilities for drainage. 
8. Coal. With a view to the successful completion of 
his important services, the surveyor-general was di- 
rected to make himself acquainted "with the circum- 
stances which have determined the sites of new towns 
in the United States *>f America, in Canada, &c, and 
more especially in the Australian colonies ; and to those 
causes which, in the latter colonies, have led to an ac- 
tual change, or to the desire for change, in the sites of 
certain towns after 'their establishment." The streets 
of these new towns will be of ample width, and ar- 
ranged with reference to the convenience of the inha- 
bitants and the beauty and salubrity of the town ; and 
reserves of land are to be made for squares, public 
walks, and quays. These arrangements comprise all 
the great means calculated to render a town the scat of 
a thriving community. They are framed for the pur- 
pose of securing the convenience and comfort of all the 
inhabitants, and not, as in many European towns, of 
a few individuals. 

The subject of this notice has not been treated so 
much with regard to regularity as with a view to excite 
some interest, and to direct attention to a study, the 
book of which is spread open before every individual. 

• # * The Office of the Society Tor the Diffusion of Useful Kuowledge i« *t 
59, Liucolo's Iun Field*. 

Printed by William Clowes and Sons, Stamford Street. 

Digitized by 


,.* »«■ 

IKontdlg &ttnj>ltmtnt of 



Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. 


December 31, 1836, to January 31, 1837.* 



[The Mansion House.] 

There have been many descriptions of London, a capi- 
tal whose past history is as large a subject as its exist- 
ing* state. The laborious antiquary has delved amongst 
its registers and tombstones ; the light essayist has hur- 
ried over its forms " of many-coloured life." We have, 
perhaps, no very satisfactory works upon this vast me- 
tropolis in any department, and the reason for this may 
be sought for in the almost limitless variety of aspects 
which London presents. London is a world in itself, 
and its records embrace a world's history. It has been 
the chief seat of English power and knowledge and 
wealth for nearly a thousand years; it is now the great 
centre of the civilization of all mankind. It contains 
2,000,000 of inhabitants ; the number of strangers who 
resort to it daily is equal to the population of many 
capital cities; the people who are tributary to this me- 
tropolis, as the heart of the British empire, amount to a 
sixth of the whole human race ; there is scarcely a com- 
mercial transaction upon the face of the globe which is 
not more or less connected with, or represented by, 
London ; the knowledge of its daily transactions goes 
forth to the uttermost ends of the earth. It contains 
within itself all that is gorgeous in wealth, and all that 
Vol.. VL 

is squalid in poverty ; all that is illustrious in know* 
ledge, and all that is debased in ignorance ; all that is 
beautiful in virtue, and all that is revolting in crime. 
Adequately to chronicle and to describe such a city as 
London, a man should have sounded every depth and 
shallow of the accumulated facts of the past, and what 
is more, have plunged into the deepest recesses of the 
present, and have seen the most complicated movements 
of living London with his own eyes. This is a task 
beyond any individual powers. Let any man try to 
visit all the 12,000 streets of London, and he will find 
his labour not a light one. Let him apply himself to 
a more rational object, that of analyzing the moral and 
physical condition of the inhabitants of one of these 
streets, and he will find his inquiry travelling into de- 
tails which are overwhelming from their magnitude and 
complexity. Let him even take the case of a single 
family, and undertake to describe all the circumstances • 
upon which they are dependent for the conduct of tneir 
lives — their food, their clothing, their supply of water 
and fuel, their means of communication, their employ- 
ment, their education, their health, their knowledge of 
passing events, their social protection, and their obli- 

Digitized by 




[Januaky 31, 

gations to perform certain public duties, — and he will 
find that such a fraction of London as one family fur- 
nishes a subject large enough for the keenest observer 
to occupy a life in examining. 

We are not about to add one more to the many lite- 
rary failures that have had London for their theme, by 
attempting too much. We propose, in a series of 
papers, to show only the outward life of London, — 
the scenes that constantly present themselves in our 
streets, and to which a looking-glass may literally, as 
well as metaphorically, be applied. The greater 
number of our readers have, no doubt, been amused in 
some public place by that ingenious- optical exhibition, 
the camera obscura. If such an exhibition could be 
found in various localities of the metropolis, having 
very well-defined characteristics in their street scenes, 
and if the exhibitors were to have collected some of the 
leading facts connected with these characteristic scenes, 
the object would be accomplished that we propose to 
ourselves in this series of wood-cuts and their illustra- 
tive descriptions. A very able artist has for some time 
been engaged by us to make a number of original draw- 
ings of places, such as might be presented in the exhibi- 
tion we have alluded to; and the end constantly kept in 
view has been to associate with a particular street or 
building the representation of some public scene which 
ordinarily takes place in connexion with that locality, 
— so that the aggregate of these scenes may present a 
tolerably complete representation of the great social 
characteristics of this multiform city. That our plan is 
quite comprehensive enough may be seen from the fol- 
lowing sketch. 

" The Looking-Glass for London" will consist of 
about fifty engravings; the principal divisions of the 
illustrative descriptions will be about half that number. 
The connexion between the scenes painted and the sub- 
jects described will be preserved without any difficulty. 
Thus, the Municipal Government of the metropolis 
(which is the subject of the present Number) will be 
detailed as illustrative of the views of the Mansion House 
and of Bow Street ; the subject of the Administration 
of Justice in connexion with Palace Yard and the Old 
Bailey ; the aspect of London, as the seat of Legislation 
and Government, will be associated with representa- 
tions of Whitehall and the back of the Horse Guards. 
Again, the external and internal Communications of 
this great resort of strangers, and of this vast district 
where the busy or the curious are constantly hurrying 
from one extremity to the other, will be described in 
connexion with views of Fleet Street and Mail Coaches, 
of Bishopsgate Street and Short Stages, of Holbornand 
Omnibuses, of the River and Steamers. Again, the 
Commerce of London will be described in connexion 
with engravings of its Docki and of the Bank and the 
Royal Exchange; its Manufactures with views of 
Spitalfields and of parts of Lambeth ; its Trade, with 
representations of Smith field, Covent Garden, Billings- 
gate y and the Borough High Street for Markets, and of 
Ludgate Street and Regent Street for Shops. Again, 
the Charitable Institutions of London will be given in 
connexion with some striking scenes, such as a view of 
Bethlem Hospital; its provisions for Education, with 
representations of Westminster School and the Annual 
Procession of Charity Children to St. Paul's; its 
Public Walks, with engravings of the Temple Gardens 
and the Green Park ; its Amusements in connexion with 
the Theatres and Vauxhatt ; and its Exhibitions asso- 
' ciated with the National Gallery and the Zoological 
Gardens. Lastly, there are many important aspects 
of London connected with the Manners of the People 
and their singular contrasts, which will furnish inter- 
esting views and cbitespondmg descriptions ;-**fbr ex- 
ample, the Old Cdac* Inn and the Fasktombte £*#** 

SI. James's Street and tbt Seven Dial*, the almoet de- 
serted Oxford Street and the crowded Hyde Park of 
the London Sunday. 

The preceding sketch imperfectly exhibits oar plan; 
but we hope that it will be sufficient to enable us to 
enter upon our task without farther preface. 


If we draw a line from north to south, running down 
through Holborn and the Strand, we shall have London 
tolerably accurately divided, with reference to its grand 
characteristics of being the central seat of government, 
legislation, and law, and an emporium for the commerce 
of the world. On the west side of this line lie the 
palaces, the houses of Parliament, the chief courts of 
justice, the great government offices, the parks, and 
the splendid squares and streets which are the external 
types of the presence of royalty and the court, and all 
the rank and wealth and fashion which congregate 
around them. On the east side lie the " city," — a small 
kernel in a large shell — the docks and the port, and 
their enormous accumulations. The boundaries of the 
" city" have no external indications (except Temple 
Bar, at the end of Fleet-street) by which the stranger 
may be able to mark it out from the mass which hems 
it round. It may be defined as lying along the Thanes 
from Temple Bar to the Tower ; from the Tower the 
boundary-line runs up in an irregular manner (describ- 
ing a figure somewhat approaching to a semicircle) 
through the heart of a dense population. The city, 
therefore, is like a bent bow, of which the Thames is 
the cord. But though Southwark and Lambeth — each 
of them having a population sufficient to make a large 
city — are not Within the limits of the " city," which do 
not cross the river, they are peculiarly its appendages 
and adjuncts. Southwark is under the same municipal 
regal at ions as the city. Within the eity limits lie St. 
Paul's, the General Post Office, the Bank of England, 
the Royal Exchange, the East India Houst, the Man- 
sion House, and Guildhall. 

Let ns station ourselves at the Mansion House, the 
palace of the civic monafeh, the Lord Mayor. Here is 
a busy and important thoroughfare. Opposite is the 
massive pile of the Bank : beside it the agitating scene 
of the Exchange. Up and down that great highway, 
Cornhill and Cheapside, there is a continual rash of 
men and horses and carriages. The cabriolet flies past 
with dangerous velocity — the omnibus thunders along 
— the heavy-laden waggon, with Its team of heavy 
horses, drags onwards, blocking for a time some nar- 
row channel, and irritating the impatient pedestrian. 
This is the central spot of the commerce of the city, 
and that city a central spot of the commerce of the 
world. Yet, amid all the bustle and conflict of passion 
and feeling, what a perfect order and regularity reigns ! 
There is an incessant throng ; and if a bar were laid 
across the street for Ave minutes, the throng would 
swell into a crowd, and from a Crowd into a mob. 
But no riots, no disturbances arise. Peace reigns — if 
such a term be not inappropriate to a scene where, 
from morning till night, there is a perpetual confusion 
of sounds. 

What salt of life preserves such a body? Does the 
king of the city, keeping his state within this m&nskro, 
hold the reins of government with a firm and vigorous 
hand, and is his very name a terror to the evil-doers ? 
Has he an armed force ready to rush out on all who 
would disturb the king s peace or seize the property of 
their neighbours? What hinders the penny less from 
laying fool hands on the rich? Might not a band of 
iktfmg fttttfw* swddeftly carry eff this richly-laden 

Digitized by 





riage, or, bursting into that shop stocked with jewels, 
gather all their plunder before a sufficient force could 
be got together to match them ? 

In London generally, applying the name to the whole 
extent of the metropolis, there are, as already stated, 
about 2,000,000 of people. Numbers of this population 
have grown up, and are growing up, in habits and incli- 
nations which are, unfortunately, more or less opposed 
to security and order. With such a reflection, it is really 
marvellous to see how life and property are so com- 
pletely protected. As to life, it is perfectly secure ; for 
the murders and manslaughters which are produced by 
sudden outbreaks of drunken or malignant passion, or 
the aberrations of intellect, are rare in occurrence, and 
could hardly be restrained by the most perfectly-devised 
police system. And as to robbery, it scarcely enters 
into any man's thoughts, when he walks about, that 
he will be deprived of his property by violence. Craft, 
cunning, imposition, subterfuge are the prime charac- 
teristics of London robbery. The master may be robbed 
by his dishonest servant ; the eager tradesman, anxious 
to " do business," may be imposed upon by the well- 
dressed or plausible swindler; the simpleton^ staring 
about the streets, or enjoying himself in what to him 
may be a new scene, a London public-house, may have 
his vanity excited by artful conversation, be tempted to 
show how much money he can produce, and in having 
it carefully put np for hinit get brown paper or coppers 
substituted for bank-notes or gold ; and the imprudent 
or the thoughtless, by throwing themselves in the way 
of temptation, may lose property intrusted to them, 
and with it, perhaps, their own characters. But the 
prudent individual may walk about even the worst parts 
of London by night without danger, unless it be that 
of having his pocket picked. Yet there are nests of 
misery and crime in London, the inspection of which 
by day would give to such an assertion the appearance 
of being very improbable. The mazes of the Seven 
Dials, the far-famed district of St. Giles, crowded with 
a half-English half-Irish population, Toth ill-street, 
leading up from Westminster Abbey, and ail the narrow 
streets and lanes which lie along the Thames be|ow 
London Bridge, present a startling contrast to the 
stateliness and grandeur of many of the streets of the 
** west end.*' Yet in these places the pedestrian is as 
safe as in the crowded thoroughfares of Cheapside, 
Fleet street, the Strand, Holborn, or Piccadilly, at least 
by day ; the only difference being, that he may see 
much that may move his pity or offend his taste. Not 
even the long narrow lane which runs up from the bot- 
tom of Holborn Hill (known as Field-lane and Saffron 
Hill), which has for many a day borne a most notorious 
character, and the very sight of which, to a timid 
stranger, as he gazes at its narrow entrance, has a sus- 
picious and deterring effect, dares to uphold its bad 
pre-eminence of being able to beard the law. 

All this security is obtained in the midst of a varying 
population, where numbers of the youth of both sexes 
are growing up in crime and ignorance, and with 
whose minds healing principles of morals or religion 
seldom or never come in contact ; where not a night 
passes over in which unhappy wretches may not be 
found whose follies or misfortunes leave them house- 
less, unable to pay the threepence or fourpence which 
would procure them the shelter pf a cellar ; and where 
numbers of degraded and indolent creatures prowl 
about, who prefer the gains of pauperism and impos- 
ture to the returns of honest industry. And if such, 
the philanthropist may exclaim, f>e the triumphs of 
civilization in the midst of materials so rough and un- 
formed, what may not reasonably be expected when 
education, and the influence of morals and religion, are 
fairly at work ; when our wretched prison discipline fs 

improved, and benevolence has done its best to alle- 
viate the miseries which spring from bad passions in- 
dulged, the culture of the mind neglected, and evil 
habits contracted. 

Such a reflection is warranted by the fact, that the 
improved state of bur metropolitan police is very re- 
cent. Nearly 600 years ago a statute was passed (in 
the year 1285, the 13th of Edward I.) in which, on 
account of the murders and robberies taking place in 
the city, it was enjoined that " none be so hardy as to 
be found going or wandering about the streets of 
the city after curfew tolled at St. Martin s-le-Grand 
(the present busy site and scene of the General Post- 
Office), with sword or buckler, or any other arras for 
doing mischief, or whereof evil suspicion might arise ; 
nor in any manner, unless he be a great man, or other 
lawful person of good repute, or their certain mes- 
senger, having their warrant to go from one to another 
with lantern iu hand." Yet upwards of 450 years 
afterwards (in 1744) the Lord Mayor and aldermen 
went up with an address to the king, in which it was 
stated that " divers confederacies of evil-disposed per- 
sons, armed with bludgeons, pistols, cutlasses, and 
other dangerous weapons, infest not only the private 
lanes and passages, but likewise the public streets and 
places of usual concourse ; and commit most daring 
outrages upon the persons of your majesty's good sub- 
jects, whose affairs oblige them to pass through the 
streets, by terrifying, robbing, and wounding them ; 
and these facts are frequently perpetrated at such times 
as were heretofore deemed hours of security ; that the 
officers of justice have been repulsed in the perform- 
ance of their duty, some of whom have been shot at, 
some wounded, and others murdered, in endeavouring 
to discover and apprehend the said persons." 

During the first half of the eighteenth century the 
streets of London were far from being secure. Gay, in 
his * Trivia; or, the Art of walking the Streets of Lon- 
don,' which was first published in the year 1712, says — 

« Where Lincoln's Inn, wide space, is rail'd around, 
Cross not with venturous step : there oft is found 
The lurking thief, who, while the daylight shone, 
Made the walls echo with his begging tune ; 
That crutch, which late compassion moved, shall wound 
Thy bleeding head, and fell thee to the ground. 
Though thou art tempted by the linkraau's call, 
Yet tru»t him not along the lonely wall ; 
In the mid-way he'll quench hi* flaming brand, 
And share the booty with the pilfering oand. 
Srdl keep the public streets, where oily rays, 
Shot from the crystal lamp, overspread the ways." 

The square of Lincoln's-Inn-Fields is now, perhaps, 
as safe at all hours as any part of London ; but, for a 
good many years after this time, it continued to be 
notorious for the dangers which Gay describes. This 
arose in a great measure from its vicinity to a nest of 
profligacy, occupying the space now lying between the 
Great and the Little Turnstiles, on the south side of 
Holborn, where a formidable crew of the most aban- 
doned and desperate characters were congregated to- 
gether, forming a body which the arm of the law hardly 
dared to touch. When this colony of criminals was 
rooted out, and the square was properly lighted and 
watched, the dangers for which it had been so long 
infamous were at an end. 

What would Gay, who advises the pedestrian at 
night to 

* keep the public streets, where oily rays, 

Shot from the crystal lamp, o'erspread the ways," 

have thought of* the present gas-light illumination? 
His description applies to about a thousand lamps, 
which were all that were hung out all over London 
until tfie year \136 : and these were kept burning only 

P 2 

Digitized by 




("January Si, 

[Bow Street, and the Assembling of. the Police.] 

till midnight; and for one half of the year, namely, from 
Lady-day till Michaelmas, were never lighted at all : 
nay, even during the winter months, there were ten 
nights ever}' moon, from the sixth day after new to the 
third day after full moon, on which, however cloudy 
the sky, not a wick lent its feeble aid to dissipate the 
obscurity. In fact, the thousand lamps were only kept 
burning for about 750 hours in the course of the year. 
The streets of a town left in this state were necessarily 
delivered over, during a great part of every twenty-four 
hours, to the uncontrolled dominion of robbers and 
other violators of the law. 

The second half of the eighteenth century presents 
a considerable improvement. The streets were be- 
ginning to be paved generally, thoroughfares were 
widened, the west end of London was extended, 
and many improvements effected, which along with 
somewhat more vigorous efforts to suppress existing 
evils, led gradually to the security which we now enjoy. 
Fielding, whose official situation at Bow Street doubt- 
less often supplied him with materials for his pictures 
of character and manners, wrote a pamphlet, in 1751, 
in which he strongly pointed out the feebleness of 
our police system, and the almost unchecked boldness 
of thieves and robbers. About fifty years afterwards 
another police magistrate of the metropolis, Mr. Coir 
quhoun, drew a most extraordinary and startling picture 
of the state of society. His two works on the police 
of the metropolis, and on the state of the port of Lon- 
don, created a very great impression on the public mind. 
His statements have been charged with exuggcrMion : 
but, with every abatement, he exposed a most frightful 
condition of things. Captains and mates of vessels, 
revenue officers, reputable tradesmen, the watermen, 
and the labourers, appeared combined in a general 
system of plunder and depredation; and in the city 
(using the word in its largest sense) thieves were 
organized into classes, and flash-houses existed, which 
were not only winked at, but absolutely deemed neces- 
sary by the police, where receivers and thieves con- 
gregated, and where, by skilful negotiation, a man 

might get his own again, on p.iyment of redernptitn 

Though during the present century the improvements 
suggested by Mr. Colquhoun have been, many of them, 
gradually adopted, the war interrupted their progress, 
and many of the evils mentioned above existed tifl 
within these few years back. 

The "city" of London, in virtue of its privilege.*, 
manages its own police. The Lord Mayor and alder- 
men, as such, are the police magistrates within the city 
limits. The Lord Mayor presides generally at the 
Mansion House, and an alderman at Guildhall. The 
other parts of London have police justice administered 
to them by stipendiary magistrates, at different police 
offices, which were established by government in 1792. 

The present day police of the city of London was 
established in 1832. In 1833 it amounted to 100 indi- 
viduals; but including superior officers, such as mar- 
shals and marshals' men, &c, it amounted to 1*20. 
There were two marshals and six marshals' men. The 
upper marshal receives a yearly salary of 540/., the 
under 450/. Each marshal's man has about 130/. a 
year, exclusive of fees for warrants and summonses. 

In addition to the day police, the total number of 
watchmen and other persons employed in the several 
wards of the city of London was, in 1833, ordinary 
watchmen, 500; superintending watchmen, 65; pa- 
trolling watchmen, 91; and beadles, 54: total, 710. 
The number of men on duty at twelve o'clock at night, 
as stated in 1833, was, within the city, 880. The day 
police is appointed and paid by the corporation out ot 
the corporation funds ; the total expense, in 1832, was 
9006/. The sums ordered to be raised and levied 
within the different wards, by authority of the mayor, 
aldermen, and commons of the city, in common council 
assembled, for the support of the night watch, was, in 
1827, 34,700/.; in 1833, 42,077/. Though still under 
the management of the different wards, the night watch 
has been greatly improved within these few years by 
the substitution of able young men for the aged and 
often decrepid creatures to whom the guardianship o: 

Digitized by 





our street* was formerly intrusted, and who were fre- 
quently appointed out of mere charity. 

To this police may be added the ward constables. 
These are elected at the different wardmotes, chiefly 
on St. Thomas's Day. But these constables, who were 
principally relied on, before the recent alteration of our 
police, for the preservation of the public peace during 
the day, do not act, unless directed by a magistrate to 
execute a particular duty. On public occasions, the 
lord mayor has power to collect them all together. The 
inhabitant householders are liable, in their turn, to serve 
the office of constable. Those to whom the duty is 
onerous endeavour to excuse themselves or procure a 
substitute to serve for them. The number of principal, 
substitute, and extra constables, in 1831, was 408; in 
1832, 409; and in 1S33, it was 398. The falling off 
was attributed to the establishment of the day police 
in the city, their services dispensing in some measure 
with those of the ward constables. 

The name of Bow Street, to the minds of the present 
generation of London inhabitants conveys scarcely any 
other idea than that it contains one of the metropolitan 
)>olice offices — of one which still retains the distinction 
of being the head police office, and one of whose jus- 
tices, as chief mo gist rate, has certain extra duties, and 
is a medium of communication between the police de- 
partment ami government — but which, in other respects, 
differs not from any of the other police offices. But to 
a generation scarcely yet extinct, it had graver associa- 
tions. Its name conjured up visions of mounted high- 
waymen and daring footpads, and all the dangers of 
Blackheath or Finchley Common. To be, in those 
days, an eminent Bow Street officer, was no ordinary 
distinction. The dexterity of the diplomatist and the 
courage of the military man, had to be united in the 
same individual— the hawk's eye and the lion's heart. 
But if it is only in extraordinary times or circumstances 
that extraordinary characters are developed, or the 
exercise of extraordinary qualities required, we need 
not regret that the good old Bow Street officer is no 
more. We have fallen on better times, when it has 
been proved to be unnecessary to maintain a system 
of police espionage and acquaintance with thieves, and 
to uphold a practice of compounding felonies, in order 
to check crime. These things are going out ; and it is 
to be hoped that they will be soon as completely num- 
bered with the things that were as is the mounted 

The stranger who seeks for Bow-street Office may 
very likely miss it, unless he detects it by some such 
infallible sign as that of an officer loitering about the 
door, or arrive at one of the hours when the ** reliefs " 
are going off, and men in uniform are streaming down 
the street. The police station-house is ou one side of 
the street, and the office on the other, somewhat lower 
down. The office is distinguished by a lamp over the 
door, which, at night, is eclipsed by the superior brilli- 
ancy of the lamp over the gin-shop a little below it, 
or the one over the entrance to the coffee-house op- 
posite. Altogether the neighbourhood is a singular 
one. Above, is Covent Garden Theatre, a portion of 
the portico of which appears in the engraving on page 
36; round the corner of Russell Street below, is 
Drury Lane Theatre; and at the opposite end of 
Hussell Street is Covent Garden Market. Drury Lane 
extends its squalid length between the two great 
thoroughfares of the Strand and Hoi bom, of which the 
end next the Strand has two channels— one, a narrow 
paved passage, which retains the primitive name of 
Drury Court ; the other Wych Street, turning off to 
St. Clement's churchyard, which it enters by the side 
of Holywell Street— famous for Jews, old clothes, old 
hooks, and old pictures. The district in which lies 

the head police office, the two national theatres, and 
a celebrated market, and which may be said to be en- 
closed on the south by the Strand, on the north by 
Broad Street, St. Giles's, on the east by Drury Lane, 
and on the west by St. Martin's Lane, is, unques- 
tionably, one of the squalid regions of London. It is 
not so uniformly offensive as some others are, and, be- 
sides its great attractions, there are interesting charac- 
teristics to be remarked within it; but in its lanes and 
recesses guilt, misery, and poverty will be found 
shrouding themselves from the light of day, and sally- 
ing out at night to earn a Wretched subsistence by vice 
or crime. 

Bow Street Police Office has been in existence up- 
wards of a century ; but it was placed ou its present 
footing in 1792, when the other police-offices were es- 
tablished. The nature of the services required of it 
may be gathered from the fact, that forty or fifty years 
ago there were numerous establishments in the metro- 
polis where swarms of the most lawless characters 
openly congregated, and might be said to enjoy entire 
security from even the approach of the wretched police 
which then existed. The names of some of these haunts 
of profligacy were the Bull in the Pound, the Apollo 
Gardens, the Dog and Duck, the Temple of Flora, Ac. 
44 A dreadful society of vagabonds," said Sir John Field- 
ing, who remembered them well, when examined in 
1816, 44 were certainly collected together in those 
places." Thence issued the bold ruffians by whom 
highway robberies were perpetrated to such an extent 
in those days. 4 * The character of the highwayman," 
continues Sir John, 44 is certainly less heard of since 
the putting down those two infernal places of meeting, 
the Dog and Duck and the Temple of Flora, which 
were certainly the most dreadful places in or about the 
metropolis." Townsend, the celebrated Bow Street 
officer, was examined by the same committee before 
whom Sir John Fielding gave this evidence. He says, 
44 There is one thing which appears to me most extra- 
ordinary, when I remember, in very likely a week, there 
should be from ten to fifteen highway robberies. We 
have not had a man committed for a highway robbery 
lately ; I speak of persons on horseback ; formerly 
there were two, three, or four highwaymen, some on 
Hounslow Heath, some on Wimbledon Common, some 
on Finchley Common, some on the Romford ,road. I 
have actually come to Bow Street office in the morning, 
and while I have been leaning over the desk, had three 
or four people come in and say, I was robbed by two 
highwaymen in such a place; I was robbed by a single 
highwayman in such a place., People travel now safely 
by means of the horse-patrol that Sir Richard Ford 
planned. Where are these highway robberies now? as 
I was observing to the Chancellor (Lord Eldon) at the 
time I was up at his house on the Corn Bill. He said, 
4 Townsend, I knew you very well so many years ago.* 
I said, 4 Yes, my Lord, I remember your first coming 
to the bar, first in your plain gown, and then as King's 
Counsel, and now Chancellor. Now, your Lordship 
sits as Chancellor, and directs the executions on the 
Recorder's report; but where are the highway rob- 
beries now ?' And his Lordship said, 4 Yes, I am as- 
tonished.' There are no footpad robberies or road rob- 
beries now, but merely jostling you in the streets. They 
used to be ready to pop at a man as soon as he let down 
his glass: that was done by bandittis/ 1 So the late 
Sir Richard Birnie, in his evidence given in 1828, says, 
44 There has not been a mounted highwayman these 
thirty years." 

Even the 4 * jostling in the streets," of which Towns- 
end speaks, has almost entirely disappeared. Yet, till 
within these five or six years, many evils which we have 
learned to think intolerable were not only tolerated, 

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[January SI, 

but could not be put down. Bullock-hunting, duck- 
hunting, and dog-fighting were favourite amusements 
in the outskirts of the metropolis, especially on Sun- 
days, gathering tumultuous and brutalizing crowds, 
sometimes in the very neighbourhood and hearing of a 
congregation assembled in a place of worship. The 
only police force consisted of the parish constables, the 
officers attached to each police-office, and the old paro- 
chial night-watch — the latter an enormous nuisance. 

It cannot be wondered at that, in such a place as 
London, the inefficiency of a police system planned in, 
and adapted for, earlier times, should have been strongly 
felt. The evils which were seen and deplored during 
the eighteenth century began to press with a heavy 
hand during the early part of the present ; our popu- 
lation was accumulating rapidly, and the means of pro- 
tection and restraint necessarily became feebler every 
day. An authority by no means disposed to undervalue 
old institutions said, in 1828, " There can be no doubt - 
that the whole of the existing watch system of London 
and its vicinity ought to be mercilessly struck to the 
ground. No human being has even the smallest con- 
fidence in it. Scenes of collusion, tricks, compromises, 
knaveries of all kinds, are brought to light daily ; none 
of the magistrates rest the least faith on the statements 
of these functionaries, unless when they are backed by 
the statements of other persons. The feeling against 
them is strong, exactly in proportion as opportunity of 
learning their real habits has been abundant. Their 
existence is a nuisance and a curse ; and are they to be 
upheld in order that vestrymen may provide for worth- 
less or worn-out dependents, at the expense of the peace 
and security of such population and such property *?" 

The new metropolitan police was established in 1829. 
Its formation, and its presence for the first two or three 
years, were viewed by the bulk of the people with sus- 
picion and dislike. There were natural reasons for 
this. The new force had somewhat of a military orga- 
nization, and the interference of such a body in eivic 
matters was alien to the old-established habits and pre- 
judices of Englishmen. Each parish had managed its 
own police affairs; and in spite of the manifest evils 
arising from the want of union and concert iu the en- 
tire body, the taking away the management of it from 
those who had hitherto exercised it, and placing it in 
the hands of commissioners (who might be termed the 
commanders of a military-civic body), under the go- 
vernment Secretary for Home Affairs, seemed an offen- 
sive thing, and a deprivation of right and privilege. It 
is unnecessary to add, that public opinion has under- 
gone a great change. The act of parliament which 
created the police force assigned, as a district, from 
Brentford Bridge, on the west, to the river Lea, on 
the east; and from Highgate, on the n**th, to S treat - 
ham and Norwood, on the south, except the city of 
London. The diameter of this district is about twelve 
or fourteen miles. By the census of 1831 it contained 
a population of 1,493,012 ; before the establishment of 
the new police it had- 797 parochial day officers, 2,785 
night watch, and upwards of 106 private watchmen. 
Including the Bow Street day and night patrol, there 
was about 4,000 on the police force of the entire dis- 
trict ; but then we must recollect that this was a dis- 
jointed body, under different and often counteracting 
management. The new force is under the direct con- 
trol and superintendence of two commissioners, who 
devote their entire time to their duties; and they are 
responsible to the Home Secretary of State, who, again, 
of course, i3 responsible to Parliament. This unity of 
government of the police force has been very beneficial 
to. its utility. Any portion of the body can be brought, 

* The « Quarterly Review/ tqL xxxvii. 

on emergency, to bear upon any given portion of the 
district. The performance of the day and night duty 
by the same body is also a most important improve- 
ment. The whole space is divided into beats, and is 
watched day and night. 

A eommittee of the House of Commons examinee, in 
1834, the working of the new metropolitan police sys- 
tem, as compared with the old. The state of things 
under the old system is thus characterised in the Re- 
port :— •" The police was roused into earnest action only 
as some flagrant violation of the public peace, or some 
deep injury to private individuals, impelled it into exer- 
tion ; and security to persons and property was sougat 
to be obtained, not by the activity and wholesome vigour 
of a preventive police, which it is a paramount duty of 
the state to provide, but by resorting from time to time, 
as an occasional increase of the more violent breaches 
of the law demanded it, to the highest and ultimate 
penalties of that law, in the hope of checking the more 
desperate offenders." " The nuisance of West Bad 
Fair,'* says Mr. Wray, the receiver of the metropolitan 
police, and one of the witnesses examined by toe com- 
mittee, "is within the recollection of most persons; and 
yet it will hardly be credited, that within seven years or 
so, on the occasion of that fair, people were robbed in 
open day, and females stripped of their clothes and tied 
to grates by the road side, the existing police being set 
at defiance. In St. Giles's, Covent Garden, and Hol- 
boru, the streets exhibited on Sunday morning scenes 
of the most disgraceful drunkenness and depravity, tad 
which the old parochial authorities in vain endeavoured 
to repress. Among the old watchmen it was hardly 
possible to assemble a number sufficient to disperse i 
regular mob, and in no case were their efforts directed 
beyond the boundaries of their own parish/ 1 

Mr. Colquhoun, in his work on the Police of the 
Metropolis, which was first published in 1796, esti- 
mates the loss arising from the burglaries, highway 
robberies, and small thefts, in London alone, at the 
enormous sum of 990,000/. The losses arising from 
the same causes in 1833 were under 20,000/. Mr. Col- 
quhoun's estimate is perhaps exaggerated, though he 
deliberately adhered to it in subsequent editions of his 
work ; and the great improvements introduced in the 
lapse of nearly forty years must necessarily be taken 
into account in determining the share of merit in the 
protection of property and prevention of crime to which 
the new system may lay claim. 

The following is a list of the different police establish- 
ments which still exist in the metropolis, in addition to 
the New Police: — Bow Street, including the Horse 
Patrol, which watch the roads leading from the metro- 
polis to a distance of from ten to sixteen miles ; Marl- 
borough Street; Hatton Garden; Worship Street; 
Lambeth Street ; High Street, Marylebone ; Queen 
Square; Union Hall ; Thames Police; City of London 
Police. The nine police offices, however, maintain 
each only a subordinate number of constables, imme- 
diately attendant on the magistrates — the New Police 
being generally ministrative to them, though, of course, 
under the control and authority of the commissioners, 
whose office is in Scotland Yard. We can, therefore, 
say, in a correct sense, that there are but three police 
bodies in London — the New, the City, and the Thames 

Receipts and disbursements on account of the Metro- 
politan Police, made up to the 3 1st of December, 1835 * 
— Amount received from parishes, ] 51,759/. 10*. \0d. ; 
from the Treasury, 49,489/. 14#. 7d. ; other payments, 
9,178/. 18*. 3d. ; Total, 210,428/. The following are 
the chief items under the head of disbursements : — 
Salaries to superintendents, 200/. per annum ; inspec- 
tors, 1/. IS*. 6d. per week ; Serjeants, l/ t 2$. <U. ditto; 

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and constables, 19s. M. ditto :— 169,745/. lbs. lid.; 
clothing, 16,362/. 0». 5d. ; police premises, 9,868/. 6$. 
6d. ; coals, 3,607/. 5t. 3d. ; lamps and gas-lights, 
1,414/. 10s. 6d.; medical attendance, 1,115/. 9$.; 
stable expenditure, 2,548/. 19*. &d. ; total amount of 
disbursements, 208,221/. 19*. 9d. ; all of which, with 
the exception of 6,25?/. 4s. Id., had been actually paid 
within the year. 

We may close this brief view of the social state of 
L»ondon, as regards its protective and municipal ar- 
raugetnents, by an account of the Thames Police. 
Some of the topics connected with this police force will 
more suitably come within the limits of a future paper : 
an account of its origin and state will be all that we 
can give here. 

The origin of the Thames Police may be ascribed 
directly to Mr. Colquhoun, though, of course, the ne- 
cessity that existed for protection to the shipping in the 
port of London was the primary cause. In Mr. Col- 
quhoun's treatise on the * Commerce and Police of the 
River Thames,' he describes the exposed state of the 
immense property annually arriving in the river, and 
the systematic depredation carried on by river pirates, 
night plunderers, aided by receivers, journeymen coopers, 
and other tradesmen, as well as the crews, mates of 
vessels, and revenue-officers. The character of the 
watermen was at this time very bad. Then there were 
lower grades among this great combination of thieves : 
Mud-larks, so denominated because they ostensibly 
gained a livelihood by grubbing in the mud of the 
Thames at low water for matters lost or thrown over- 
board, but who were in reality dangerous assistants to 
the thieves ; rat-catchers, who, under pretence of clear- 
ing a ship of vermin, availed themselves of opportunities 
for plunder, &c. &c. 

The West India merchants were the first to set on 
foot a protective and preventive police for the river. 
Mr. Colquhoun suggested a plan which received the 
approbation of the body of merchants, and subse- 
quently of Government ; and the Duke of Portland, in 
1798, requested Mr. Colquhoun, who was then a ma- 
gistrate at Queen's Square, to bestow his time and at- 
tention on maturing the plan, providing a substitute 
for him at his office at the public expense while he was 
so occupied. Various alterations have been since 
made in the system, as it was originally established. 

The limits of the jurisdiction of the Thames Police 
extends, upon the Thames, so far as the river runs be- 
tween the counties of Middlesex and Surrey, Essex and 
Kent; but the common supervision of the river is con- 
fined to the busy parts of the river, from Greenwich to 
a little above Westminster : occasionally the boats go 
lower and higher. In consequence of a vigilant system 
of look-out and summary punishment, which extends 
to the various docks, certain of the dock officers are 
sworn in by the magistrates, under the authority of the 
Secretary of State, as Thames Police constables, but 
they are paid by the respective dock companies. The 
land district which is included within the jurisdiction of 
the Thames Police comprises the parishes of Wapping, 
Aldgate, St. Katherine's, Shadwell, and Ratcliflfe. 

There are twenty-one surveyors on the establishment 
of the Thames Police, each of whom has charge of a 
boat and three men while on duty. The surveyors, 
having cause to suspeet that any felony has been or is 
about to be committed on board any ship, are authorized 
to enter at all times, by night or day, for the purposes 
of detection or prevention. 5*hey frequently board 
vessels newly arrived, and after cargoes have been dis- 
charged; they go into the docks, and board vessels 
there r they interfere in smuggling cases that come to 
their knowledge, being themselves officers of the cus- 
toms ; and ftkty have akoto ass that etr tai a Ngalations 

are observed by vessels in port, sucn as not having mdre 
than a limited quantity of gunpowder oh board. 

The chief surveyor of the Thames Police has 16*0/. 
a year ; the inspecting surveyor 100/. ; six receive 90/. ; 
six 75/., and one 70/. There are four land constables, 
a gaoler, and an office keeper, at 25$. a week each ; 
thirty river constables at 23*., and thirty at 21*. per 
week. The establishment is under the direction of the 
magistrates of the Thames Police Office. 

It is remarked by Mr. Murray, one of the magistrates 
of Union Hall, the whole of whose evidence before the 
parliamentary committee of 1933 deserves particular 
notice, that "it is obvious that the police courts, sitting 
daily, open to all classes of a thickly peopled metropolis, 
and entertaining every possible case incident to vice, 
misery, and passion, are calculated to exert a consider- 
able influence on public conduct, differing in its extent 
and effects in a great degree according to the estimation 
in which these tribunals are held. It is equally clear 
that they are not at present as highly estimated as is 
consistent with the benefits they may be capable of con- 
ferring. Casual or reluctant visiters are not judges of 
the nature and amount of a police magistrate's business; 
of the many cases of deep interest which crowd upon his 
attention, the constant demands upon his experience, 
the frequent trials of his patience, and the repeated 
calls upon his knowledge of human nature. The value 
of his office does not consist more in the strict legal 
performance of his judicial and administrative duties, 
than in the exercise of a sound discretion, and in the 
considerate application of the principles and feelings of 
humanity, as an adviser, an arbitrator, and a mediator. 
The bearing at a police-office may in some instances, 
especially to the young and misguided, be the opening 
of new views of life and new rules of conduct. There is 
scarcely a conceivable case, arising particularly among 
the lower orders, which may not immediately or indi- 
rectly come under the notice of the police-offices. It is 
most important, therefore, that every means should be 
adopted rot upholding their reputation, and so extend- 
ing and increasing their moral influence." 

The present amount of attendance and occupation 
at the police offices is as follows : — One of the three 
magistrates is present at each office every morning 
from eleven to three, 6r as much longer as the business 
lasts, and again in the evening ; and a second is present 
for the double business from twelve to three every day ; 
the result of this arrangement being, that each police 
magistrate may be said to work two whole days and 
two half days in every week ; and unless special cir- 
cumstances call for extra attendance, he has the entire 
control of the two other days. 

The Parliamentary Committee of 1834 conclude their 
Report with the following decided expression of opi- 
nion : — 

" Your committee, keeping in view the whole evidence 
now placed before the house, conclude with this expres- 
sion of their opinion ; viz., that the metropolitan police 
force, as respects its influence in repressing crime, and 
the security it has given to person and property, is one 
of the most valuable of modern institutions. And the 
high character of those who now direct it, and the con- 
sequent improvement in the moral character and disci- 
pline of the men, together with its successful working 
in practice, has clearly shown, that what, under the old 
police, was considered by the magistrates and the most 
experienced officers as a necessary evil — viz., flash 
houses, where the most vicious and desperate charac- 
ters were allowed openly to assemble, hardening each 
other in their career of crime, and seducing others, i^ 
order Chat they might be more readily secured when an 
ml e qoiM reward was efftafid, a«d the association of t*^ 

Digitized by 




[JanuaiySI, 1837. 

police constables with low and infamous characters as 
a means of obtaining information, is not a necessary 
part of a system which has for its object only the pre- 
vention and detection of crime ; and there is reason to 
hope that the present system may carry into practice, 
to the utmost extent, every measure which can augment 
the difficulty and multiply obstructions in the way of 
the depredator, as well as every arrangement best cal- 
culated to diminish the chances of a profitable con- 
version of property when dishonestly obtained. The 
former will tend to prevent, the latter to diminish, the 
motives to commit crime. 

"Your committee,, however, do not rely upon any 
system of police, however perfect, for the diminution of 
crime, unless in connexion with an enlightened system 
of prison discipline and secondary punishments, and the 
still wider diffusion of moral and religious education ; 
which are the great and the only means of perma- 
nently advancing the moral and social condition of the 

In a subsequent paper we shall analyse the classes of 
criminals, the nature of their offences, and their ages 
(as far as we have materials), in London, and compare 
them with the amount of population. But the follow- 
ing particulars respecting juvenile depravity, which 
were communicated by an intelligent police-officer, Mr. 
Thomas, to a committee of the House of Commons in 
1828, are affecting ; nor, we fear, though the lapse of 
eight years has brought about some important changes, 
can much be deducted from the statements. 

" According to your observation, are there many 
boys employed about the theatres in picking pockets? 
— Yes ; I have taken seven or eight at a time : I speak 
of boys that are bill-deliverers. There is a publication 
called the Theatrical Observer, and those boys deliver 
the bills, and, if they possibly can, they pick pockets. 
There are from fifty to sixty immediately round the 
theatre; I took eight of them before Sir Richard 
Birnie, one night, to try how far we could interfere in 
dispersing them ; and Sir Richard Birnie spoke to 
them. One gave one account and one another ; some 
came from a part of the town called Mutton Hill, at 
the end of Hatton Garden, some from St. Giles's, and 
some from Tot hill-fields, Westminster; and they place 
themselves all down Brydges Street, Catherine Street, 
Charles Street, Bow Street, and round the piazzas at 
Covent Garden, and even as far as St. Martin's Court, 
Leicester Fields. 

• c What are their parents ? — In many instances they 
are fatherless, and in some instances they have proved 
to have neither father nor mother. There was one 
little fellow, a most intelligent and interesting looking 
lad as ever I saw, who stated that his father was an 
officer ; that he had been born in Colchester barracks ; 
he was illegitimate, and that his father in the first in- 
stance had abandoned him, and finally his mother, and 
that he had no other means of living, and he paid four- 
pence a night for his lodgings ; that boy was cautioned, 
along with the rest, never to be seen there any more ; 
one or two of them went down on their knees before 
Sir Richard Birnie, and made most solemn assurances 
that they never would, and within an hour I found 
them at it again, and they have continued to do so ever 

" Do these boys attend any school ? — None, as I 

" Are there not many boys of that age who sleep in 
baskets and on the offal round Covent Garden ?— Yes ; 
I have taken some of them up, and I have saved one 
or two from destruction, by taking charge of them in 
the night and handing them over to their parents. 
There was an instance of a son of ft surveyor at Mary- 
le-bone : I found him in company with some professed 

thieves at three o'clock one morning ; he had a watcL 
and some shirts, and other things, which were the pro- 
perty of his father, and he was then only waiting' lor 
daylight to get a ship to go off*; and I took him to the 
watch-house for the night, and he was restored to his 
anxious father the next day. # 

*' Are there not certain classes of boys that have no, 
regular lodgings, who live in the market, and who sleep 
in the baskets at night ?— Yes, there are, and not only 
at night, but in the day. We can take nearly a hun- 
dred of them, particularly at the time the oranges are 
about ; they come there picking up the bits of oranges, 
both boys and girls. I counted last night, at the king's 
entrance of the theatre, seventeen individuals, men 
and women, that were apparently houseless, sleeping: 

Children are sometimes brought before the magis- 
trates of " ten years of age, and even under.*' These 
juvenile delinquents are frequently employed by the 
older thieves to assist them in cases in which the small- 
ness of their persons gives them an advantage ; as, for 
instance, in entering a house by a wiudow from which 
one of the panes has been Te moved. In committing 
their ordinary depredations,- they generally prowl about 
the streets in companies of two or three, of whom each 
has his particular part to act, one snatching up the 
plunder, and another receiving it from him and run- 
ning off with it. 

It is very obvious that no mere police regulations 
are at all likely to be effectual in putting down this de- 
scription of criminals, so long as (he destitution and 
abandonment by which they are bred continue to exist 
They are the natural produce of that hotbed of vice 
and misery ; and will continue to issue from it while it 
remains unremoved. Any punishments that may be 
inflicted can, in the nature of things, operate but very 
imperfectly in restraining either their growth or their 
delinquencies. To send them to jail, as most of our 
jails are at present conducted, is only to send them to the 
best school of crime. But even if our system of prison 
discipline were made ever so perfect, this improvement 
alone could not be expected to clear our streets of these 
marauders, for successive detachments of whom, indeed, 
a prison might afford an asylum for a few months, but 
it could be for that short period only. When again 
restored to liberty they would still, as at present, find 
themselves again thrown upon their own resources, and 
compelled to resort to their former practices. Besides, 
no reformation, even were it complete and permanent, 
of the existing race, could prevent the succession of 
new swarms from the same prolific source. To heal 
this disease of our political condition, the general habits 
of the most degraded portion of our population must be 
changed, and education and all other salutary influences 
plentifully and perseveriugly applied, to eradicate the 
vice and wretchedness with which they are overrun. 

The statements given in this Number of the * Penny 
Magazine 1 relate almost exclusively to what may be 
termed the external state and appearance of the muni- 
cipal institutions of London. Other occasions will 
arise which will lead us to treat of the internal govern- 
ment and constitution of the corporation of the city, 
and of the governing bodies of the other parts of Lon- 
don. Still, the reader must bear in mind that our plan 
relates more to the external than to the internal con- 
dition of this great metropolis. 

%• The Office of the Societr for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge Is el 
59, Lincoln'* Inn Fields. 


Printed by WnuAM Cfcorwis tad Sojn» Staafetd Street, 

Digitized by 




Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. 



[February 4, 1887. 


[.Fountain ef Paul V*. Borne] 

No people ever equalled the Romans in the mag- 
nificence of the works which they constructed for the 
purpose of bringing supplies of water to their various 
provincial capitals, as well as to Rome itself. Strabo 
says, that such a quantity of water was introduced into 
the city, that whole rivers seemed to flow through the 
streets and down the sewers ; so that every house had 
its pipes and cisterns, sufficient to furnish a copious 
and abundant supply. Their aqueducts are incon- 
testable monuments of the greatness of their designs ; 
and valleys, mountains, and extensive plains offered no 
impediments which they did not surmount by skill, and 
the exercise of an indomitable will. The edifice where 
various aqueducts united was called " castellum," and 
was generally not only a solid but even magnificent 
construction. Sometimes they were cased with marble, 
and ornamented with marble pillars. Pliny states, that 
Agrippa alone erected 130 of these reservoirs, and 
opened 105 fountains in connexion with them, which 
were adorned with 300 brass or marble statues. It is 
believed that the daily supply of water in ancient 
Rome amounted to 800,000 tuns. The three aque- 
ducts which now remain are those of the Acqua Ver- 
gine, of the Acqua Felice, and of the Acqua Paulina. 
The first discharges itself into the Fontana di Trevi ; 
the second into the Fontana di Termini ; and the third 
divides itself into two channels, one of which supplies 
Vol. VI. 

the Fontana Paolina represented in the engraving. The 
quantity of water which is supplied is abundant, the 
quality extremely salubrious ; and the arrangements for 
an equal distribution of the element are on a scale of 
convenience as well as magnificence. Every quarter, 
however poor, is well supplied ; and there are few of 
the fountains which do not possess some claim upon 
the attention, either from their size, form, or situation. 
Mr. Eustace remarks, in his ' Classical Tour, 1 that 
** the modern Romans, though inferior in numbers and 
opulence to their ancestors, have shown equal taste 
and spirit in this respect, and deserve a just eulogium, 
not only for having procured an abundance of water, 
but for the splendid and truly imperial style in which 
it is poured forth for public use." He proceeds to 
draw an amusing comparison between these fountains 
and the water-works that often adorn public walks and 
palace-gardens. " Artificial fountains," he says, " in 
general are little better than ornamental pumps, which 
sometimes squirt out a scanty thread of water, and some- 
times distil only a few drops into a muddy basin. 
Those on a greater scale now and then throw up a 
column, or pour a torrent, as occasion may require, on 
certain state days, or for the amusement of some dis- 
tinguished peisonage, and then subside till a fresh 
supply enables them to renew the exhibition. Such 
are the so-much-celebrated water-works of St. Cloud, 


Digitized by 




[Februak? 4, 

Marti, and Versailles; inventions which can be con- 
sidered only as playthings, calculated, like a theatrical 
decoration, to act an occasional part, and to furnish a 
momentary amusement, but too insignificant to be 
introduced into the resorts of the public." The three 
finest fountains of Rome are the Fontana Felice, the 
Fontana*di Trevi, and the Fontana Paolina. The Fon- 
tana di Trevi is considered to be the finest fountain in 
the world. It is supplied with a deluge of water; and 
in the summer evenings the square in which it stands 
is resorted to on account of the freshness which is 
diffused through the air. The waters of the Fontana 
Felice are discharged into a vast basin through a rock, 
under an Ionic arcade, built of white stone, and faced 
with marble. The 'Penny Magazine,' No. 207, con- 
tains an engraving of one of the fountains of Bernini, 
to whom Rome is indebted for some very fine construc- 
tions of this kind. In the same Number an allusion 
is made to the Fontana Paolfna, represented in the 
cut. This fountain was constructed by the architect 
Fontana, by order of Pope Paul V M with materials 
taken from the forum of Nerva. Six Ionic columns of 
red granite support an entablature containing inscrip- 
tions, and supporting the arms of the pontiff. The 
water rushes in a complete torrent through the princi- 
pal issues, and in a smaller stream through orifices in 
the mouths of dragons, which are placed in niches on 
each side. A fine basin of white marble receives this 
abundant supply of water, which is of the purest kind. 
Eustace says:— "The lofty situation of this fountain 
renders it a conspicuous object to all the opposite hills. 
The trees that line its sides and wave to the eye through 
its arches, shed an unusual beauty around it ; and the 
immense basin which it replenishes gives it the appear- 
ance, not of the contrivance of human ingenuity, but 
almost the creation of enchantment." 


In a recent Number of the * Penny Maagzine,' (No. 
300), a recommendation was given that, wherever it 
was practicable, school-houses, places of worship, cot- 
tages, and similar buildings should be made to unite 
convenience and propriety with as large a degree of 
beauty and elegance of design as is consistent with the 
objects and purposes of each description of building. 
This may be accomplished with so small an addition to 
the cost of erection as scarcely to form an object of con- 
sideration. If the expense were so much greater as 
really to form an obstacle to the progress of school- 
houses, we should at once give up the idea of rendering 
them agreeable objects to the eye, and should urge the 
adoption of the baldest design, or even the covering in 
of four bare walls, or any plan for a building devoted 
to objects which should remove so many of the chil- 
dren of the poorer classes in our large towns from the 
miserable rooms, cellars, and garrets in which they re- 
ceive the small measure of instruction which is given 
to them. We are indebted to a society established 
about two years ago at Manchester, and which exhibits 
the enlightened public spirit of a great manufacturing 
city in a most honourable and gratifying light, for some 
accurate information on the' subjects of schools and 
education. The Manchester Statistical Society is not 
bound together by any political ties, but the stimulus 
under which it has pursued its honourable labours has 
been the desire of advancing the common happiness. 
It has directed its attention to the statistics of educa- 
tion, and in connexion with this subject it has already 
completed minute inquiries at Manchester, Sal ford, and 
Bury, and more recently at Liverpool, where, at a con- 
siderable expense, about seven months have been de- 
voted to a laborious investigation of the sseans of edu- 

cation in that town. Without going into all the result; 
which have been brought out, we take some extracts 
from the reports, which show most forcibly the neces- 
sity of some strong exertion being made to place the 
education of the people on a better footing. Nothing 
can be more affecting than the thought that so mam 
thousand beings, who are to act their part in life at 
some future period, should be left so destitute of the 
means of acquiring that intelligence and of forming 
those habits which may guide them through its diffi- 
culties with safety and advantage. These poor chil- 
dren, pent up in a miserable room, gasping for a pure: 
atmosphere, and seeking from ignorance that which 
knowledge itself can scarcely diffuse unless it be en- 
dowed with a strong sympathy for humanity, is a pic- 
ture deeply calculated to arouse public attention ; and 
the Manchester Statistical Society has drawn a dart 
and faithful portraiture, which must fix the subject in 
the public mind. 

At Manchester, we learn, the " dame-schools'* are 
generally found in very dirty, unwholesome rooms— 
frequently in close, damp cellars, or old dilapidated 
garrets. In one of these schools eleven children were 
found in a small room, in which one of the children of 
the mistress was lying in bed ill of the measles ; an- 
other child had died in the same room of the same 
complaint a week before, and no less than thirty of the 
usual scholars were confined at home of the same dis- 
ease. In another school which was visited, all the chil- 
dren, to the number of twenty, were squatted upon the 
bare floor, there being no benches, chairs, or furniture of 
any kind. Many other schools were nearly in as bad a 
state ; and in all, with scarcely an exception, the means 
of education and instruction were equally deplorable 
Moral education, real cultivation of mind, and improve* 
ment of character are totally neglected. " Morals!" 
said one master, in answer to the inquiry whether be 
taught them, " Morals 1 how am I to teach morals to 
the like of these?" 

In Liverpool the " dame-schools" are no better. The 
Report says, " With few exceptions the dame-schools 
are dark and confined; many are damp and dirty; 
more than one-half of them are used as dwelling, dor- 
mitory, and school-room ; accommodating, in many 
cases, families' of seven or eight persons. Above forty 
of them are cellars. Of the common day-schools in 
the poorer districts it is difficult to convey an adequate 
idea ; so close and offensive is the atmosphere, as to be 
intolerable to a person entering from the open air, more 
especially as the hour for quitting school approaches. 
The dimensions rarely exceed those of the dame-schools 
while frequently the number of scholars is more than 
double. The masters are generally ignorant of the de- 
pressing and unhealthy effects of the atmosphere which 
surrounds them, and do not consider it desirable that 
their schools should be better ventilated. A circum- 
stance which proves the unwholesome condition of many 
of these schools, is the very rapid spread of infectious 
or epidemic disorders, which occasionally make their 
appearance in them. The measles, scarlet fever, small- 
pox, and ophthalmic affections, never attack one scholar 
alone. Frequently one-half of the scholars are affected 
at the same time ; and some of the schools have been 
visited at times, when two-thirds of the children usually 
attending were detained at home by such complaints. 
These cases have invariably occurred in the most un- 
healthy and ill-ventilated schools, while, in schools more 
favourably circumstanced, it has rarely happened that 
more than three or four of the scholars have been ab- 
sent on account of illness at the same time.*' 

Such is the general description of the dame and 
common day-schools in Liverpool ; but it may he as 
well to add some details of several particular schools, 
rn order that it may be seen whether the language of 

Digitized by 





exaggeration has been employed. 1. This school is in 
a garret, up three pair of broken stairs. In the com- 
pass of ten feet by nine were forty children. On a 
perch, forming a triangle with the corner of the room, 
sat a cock and two hens ; under a stump-bed, immedi- 
ately beneath, was a dog-kennel in the occupation of 
three black terriers, whose barking, added to the noise 
of the children and the cackling of fowls, on the ap- 
proach of a stranger, were almost deafening. There 
was only one small window, at which sat the master, 
obstructing three-fourths of the light it was capable of 
admitting. 2. This school is also in a garret, very 
much dilapidated. The room was nine feet by twelve, 
and there were thirty-eight scholars. Not more than 
six of these had any book. A desk, at which only five 
boys could be accommodated at the same time, was all 
the provision for writing and arithmetic. The room 
below was in the occupation of a cobbler, whose wife 
lay ill in bed of a fever, himself pursuing his avocation 
near to her bedside. 3. The descent to this school is 
by a flight of narrow steps, fifteen inches in width, and 
covered with filth. The room is naturally dark, but 
is rendered doubly so from the dirt without and the 
steam within the windows. The forms are composed 
of four old bed-stocks, resting on- brick supports; the 
writing-desk is a three legged table or stool, accommo- 
dating only one scholar at a time. 4. In one school 
an old form supplied the place of a desk; three small 
children were kneeling on the floor to write at it, and 
two taller ones sat on the floor, with their legs thrust 
under it. 

There are 241 " dame-schools" in Liverpool, and 
they are attended by nearly 2000 children under five 
years of age, and by 3000 children above, the age of 
five years. In the common day-schools there are 5500 
children under the age of fifteen. This shows that 
the desire for education is almost universal, but, un- 
happily, at these schools there is no prospect of this 
object being properly attained. The Report says: — 
44 In the poorest schools no pretence is made to teach 
morals, and many masters have no idea what teaching 
morals can possibly mean. The generality of teachers, 
indeed, entertain, very imperfect notions on this subject. 
The prevailing idea is, that morals are best taught by 
visiting the more flagrant deviations from rectitude 
with the rod. To show how imperfect is the knowledge 
of some masters on the subject of morals, one master 
being asked if he taught morals observed, * That 
question does'nt belong to my school ; it belongs more 
to girls' schools.' " Some melancholy instances are 
given of the total unfitness of the teachers of these 
schools : — on one occasion the children of a common 
day-school were found playing in a garret, and it was 
stated that the master had been away drinking for 
several days together. It is not uncommon to find the 
mistress of a dame-school gone out for the day, and her 
school in charge of some neighbour, or some neighbour's 
child. Sometimes she is found washing at the back of 
the house; at other times the washing and drying is 
carried on in the school. Two teachers of dame-schools 
were girls of thirteen years of age, one of whom had 
been left by her father, after his wife's death, to support 
herself and an infant brother; others of the respective 
ages of seventy-five, eighty, and eighty-three, were 
met with. Ten mistresses were in receipt of assistance 
from the poor-rate. 

Our object tt ptesent is not to give a complete view 
of the state of education amongst the poorer classes in 
Liverpool, but to show that the work of education 
cannot possibly be carried on with advantage un- 
less suitable school houses be provided. The Report 
of the Manchester Statistical Society fully confirms 
this view. It is remarked that " a sufficiency of light 
and of apace and of proper ventilation ifc essential in 

every school-room ;" and that "the confusion is always 
greatest in those schools which are most deficient in 
these respects." The difficulties which the masters 
and mistresses have to contend with in consequence of 
these defects have a tendency ** to distract their atten- 
tion, to exhaust their energies, and depress their spirits 
to an extent of which they themselves are not at all 


The only impressment remembered in the present age 
is that cruel expedient which was once resorted to for 
procuring a sufficient number of able men to serve in 
the navy ; but in former times it was frequently resorted 
to for obtaining workmen for the service of the king, 
and, according to the Sloane MS. in the British 
Museum, No. 2035, a species of the same tyranny was 
practised even in the time of Elizabeth for the purpose 
of getting choristers for the different royal chapels. 
The following is a copy of the royal mandate, which 
bears her majesty's autograph : — 

" By the Queene, Elizabeth R. 
" Whereas we have authorysed our servaunte Thomas 
Gyles, Mr. of the children of the eathedrall churche of 
St. PauJe, within our cittie of London, to take upp suche 
apte and meete children as are most fitl to be instructed 
and framed in the arte and science of musicke and 
singinge as maye be had and found out within anie 
place of this our real me of England or Wales, to be by 
his education and bringinge up made meete and liable 
to serve us in that behalf when our pleasure is to call 
for them. 

" Wee therefore by the tenor of these presents will 
and require you that you permit and suffer from hence- 
forthe our saide servaunte Thomas Gyles and his depot ie 
or deputies, and every of them to take up in anye ea- 
thedrall or collegiate churche or churches, and in every e 
other place or places of this our realme of England and 
Wales suche childe or children as he or they or anye of 
them shall finde and like ofc and the same childe and 
children by vertue hereof for the use and service afore- 
saide with them or any of them, to bring awaye with- 
oute anye letts, eontradictons, staye, or interruptions 
to the contrarie, charginge and commanding^ you and 
everie of you to be aydinge, helpinge, and assistinge to 
the above named Thomas Gyles and his deputie and 
deputies in and aboute the due executon of the premisses 
for the more spedie, effectual], and better accomplishing 
thereof from tyme to tyme, as you and everie of you 
doe tendar our will and pleasure, and will answere for 
doinge the contrarie at yor peril les. 

•* Gouen under our signet at our Manor of 

Grenewich, the xxvith daye of Aprill, in the 

xxviith yere of our reign. 
" To all and singular Deanes. Prouostes, Maisters, 
and Wardens of Collegies, and all ecclesiasticall psons 
and mynisters, and to all other our officers, mynisters, 
and subiects to whome in this case it shall apperteyne, 
and to everye of them greetinge." 


Thb surface of nearly three-fourths of the globe is co- 
vered with water, and this vast space is peopled as 
thickly with animated beings as the land ; but the diffi- 
culties which arise when an investigation into their 
nature and habits is attempted, renders this field of 
observation comparatively unknown. Concerning even 
some which are most familiar to us our knowledge is 
limited, and the difficulty of accumulating facts renders 
the progress of information slow. Still, the persevere . 
ance and industry of some active minds have done mud* 

G 3 

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[Beach at Yarmouth~FiUiernieii going out] 

to render the study of ichthyology full of interest. 
Many difficulties and obscurities have been removed, 
and sufficient is known to excite a desire to know more. 
The papers which are intended to appear in succession 
in the * Penny Magazine' will not involve the reader in 
the intricacies of the science ; and though it may some- 
times be necessary to remove erroneous impressions 
concerning the natural history of different fishes, yet, 
as none but those which are directly useful to man will 
be brought under notice, they will comprise only those 
respecting which there is the largest number of authen- 
ticated facts. Facts rather than theories will be brought 
forward, and these are fortunately in sufficient abund- 
ance to lessen the temptation to speculate. There are 
a number of circumstances which contribute to render 
the department of natural history which it is proposed 
to investigate interesting to the people of this country. 
Great Britain possesses a coast-line of above 3000 miles 
in extent, and that of Ireland is above 1000 miles. The 
population which inhabits these coasts are all more or 
less engaged in fisheries. Our shores abound with 
those species of fish which exist in the largest numbers, 
and yield a supply of food the most acceptable. These 
shores are indented with bays and harbours, which pro- 
tect the fishermen, facilitate his employment, and render 
it a branch of national industry, whose importance it 
will be interesting duly to estimate, in order that its 
value, as compared with other sources of occupation 
and riches, may be justly appreciated. 

It may be convenient in this place to give the most 
approved arrangement of fishes, as references will be 
occasionally made to the position which different species 
occupy in the scale. They are placed by Cuvier in the 
fourth class of organized beings, after beasts, birds, 
and reptiles. This class is divided into two sub-classes 
— viz., cartilaginous fishes and osseous fishes. In the 
former the bones are gristly and in the latter firm, 
though less so than those of land animals, the matter of 
Which they are composed being differently proportioned. 

The cartilaginous fishes are divided into three orden: 
— 1. Cyclostomi, having the jaws [fixed and the $ 
adhering, with numerous openings — e. g., the lampKJ 

2. Selachii, having teeth instead of jaws, and tb*^' 5 
toothed like a comb — the ray. 3. Sturiones, btf> n 5 
the gills free — the sturgeon. 

The osseous fishes are divided into six orders:- 
1. The Plectognathi have fibrous bones and fixed ji* 
— e. £., the sun-fish. 2. The Lopobranchii haw p 
in the form of small round tufts — the hippocampi 

3. The Malacopterygii Abdominales have the nip « 
the fins generally soft, and the ventral fins pl f< *°. 
behind— the salmon. 4. The Malacopterygii &"»>* 
chiati have gills resembling the tooth of a comb, an 
the ventral fins are placed either before the p^ 10 
fins, between them, or a little behind them— the whi- 
ing. 5. The Malacopterygii Apodes are footless 
without ventral fins— the eel. 6. In the Acanthop 
rygii the first rays of the fins are supported by a sp D0Os 
process, and pointed like a thorn — the sword-fish. 

The fins exercise considerable influence on the ha 
of fishes, and are the substitutes for limbs. The p*J 
toral or breast-fin assists in supporting the °PP er ^ 
of the body, and gives a direction to its nooti ?|lj £ D 
dorsal or back-fin steadies it ; the ventral or beliy^ 
acts as an oar, and impels it along ; the vent or > 
fin, with the pectoral fin, keeps the fish in a h° nV> * 
position ; and the tail or caudal fin is the great op 

of progressive motion, acting like a scull. 

It has been 


found that if the pectoral and vent-fins are cm rf 
fishes lose the power of controlling the direct^ ^ 
their movements. A glance at the engravin 
show the position of these fins in the herring. ^ 
It is unnecessary to go farther into the natura ^ 
tory of the species. An opportunity will k^ a ff j V j n g 


The course will generally be to give: — 1. ^ atu . g 
tory of the fish. 2. Mode of taking and prepare 

of noticing any peculiarities of formation in a .^ 
some account of each fish as it comes under ' ^ ^ 


Digitized by 


1837 J 



an article of commerce. 3. Commercial importance of I of capital and population. 
the fishery, and its value as a source of employment I herring. 

We shall begin with the 

[Herring — Ciupea hartngutJ] 

Natural History of the Herring. — The herring is 
found in the third order in Cuvier's arrangement ; and 
with the pilchard, sprat, shad, anchovy, and white-bait, 
belongs to the Ciupea? genus. It weighs about five 
ounces and a half. The upper part of the body is blue 
and green, and the lower parts of a silvery white. 
Owing to the gill-lids being very loose and opening 
wide, the herring dies almost the instant it is taken out 
of the water; hence, perhaps, the saying, " as dead as 
a herring." In twenty-four hours the gill-coVers pre- 
sent an extravasated appearance. The lower jaw is 
furnished with five or six teeth; the inferior edges of 
the upper jaw are serrated; and on the. tongue there 
are also small teeth. The food of the. herring consists 
of minute animals which are found in the depths of the 
ocean ; but they will also feed upon the young of their 
own species, and they may; be taken. with limpets and 
also with an artificial fly. 

The herring is not found in warm regions, nor farther 
south than the northern coasts of France. The most 
interesting point connected with its natural history 
is the annual movement which it makes. Pennant, 
whose zoological labours entitle him to much respect, 
about the middle of the last century gave an account 
of their periodical migration, which has been implicitly 
copied by nearly every succeeding writer. He repre- 
sents them as coming from their great winter rendez- 
vous within the Arctic Circle. " They begin (he says) 
to appear off the Shetland Isles in April and May. 
These are only forerunners of the grand shoal which 
comes in June; and their appearance is marked by 
certain signs, by the numbers of birds, such as gannets 
and others, which follow to prey on them ; but when 
the main body approaches, its breadth and depth are 
such as to alter the very appearance of the ocean. It 
is divided into distinct columns of five or six. miles in 
length and three or four in breadth, and they drive the 
water before them with a kind of rippling ; sometimes 
they sink for the space of ten or fifteen minutes, then 
rise again to the surface, and in bright weather reflect 
a variety of splendid colours. The first check this 
army meets in its march southward is from the Shet- 
land Isles, which divide it into two parts. One wing 
takes to the east, the other to the western shores of 
Great Britain, and fill every bay and creek with their 
numbers. Others pass on towards Yarmouth, the great 
and ancient mart of herrings ; they then pass through 
the British Channel, and after that in a manner disap- 
pear. Those which take to the west, after offering 
themselves to the Hebrides, where the great stationary 
fishery is, proceed towards the north of Ireland, where 
they meet with a second interruption, and are obliged 
to make a second division. The one takes to the 
western side, and is scarce perceived, being soon lost 
in the immensity of the Atlantic ; but the other, which 
passes into the Irish Sea, rejoices and feeds the inha- 
bitants of most of the coasts that border on it." In a 
work on subjects of marine natural history, published 
not more than a year ago, this account is substantially 
repeated, and it is stated in addition that the different 

columns are led by herrings of more than ordinary size. 
Other writers have stated that the annual visitations of 
the herring are adjusted with the most scrupulous pre- 
cision to the character of the country along which they 
pass, and that wherever the soil is meagre and the cli- 
mate severe, there they, never fail to resort. This is 
going much farther than Mr. Pennant, who notices the 
caprice which the herrings exercise with regard to their 
haunts. The promulgation of these and similar erro- 
neous notions is productive of mischief in various ways. 
The belief that a particular part of the coast was inva- 
riably haunted; by the herrings, excited hopes of com- 
mercial prosperity from the fishery, and led to the for- 
mation of establishments which it was afterwards found 
necessary to abandon, owing to the laws which direct 
the arrival of the fish being so completely fluctuating. 
Factitious views of the designs of Providence have been 
taken, which, being fpunded on error, were liable to be 
suddenly overthrown; whereas, within the bounds ot 
ascertained facts, there are to be found abundant mani- 
festations of beneficent design, the evidence of which 
rests upon a more secure foundation. The very uncer- 
tainty which characterizes the herrings in the choice of 
their haunts is attended with advantage, as it occasions 
attention to be directed to agriculture and to other 
means of subsistence than that which the ocean sup- 
plies, and thus the chances of scarcity are lessened. 

So far from the arctic seas being the great resort to 
which the herrings retire for the winter after having 
deposited their spawn, it is nearly certain that they are 
not in the habit of leaving the seas on the shores of 
which they periodically appear* They leave the shore 
for the deep sea, and the return of warm weather again 
brings them around the coasts. The herring, it may 
also be stated, is nearly unknown within the polar seas, 
and has scarcely been observed by the navigators of 
those regions ; nor are they taken by the Greenlanders. 
A small variety of tiie herring is sometimes found, and 
is noticed by Sir John Franklin. The young are found 
at the mouth of the Thames, and on the coasts of Essex 
and Kent during the winter. The Dutch at one period 
carried on the fishery in the deep sea at all seasons. 
On the western coast of Scotland the fishery has some- 
times terminated before that on the eastern coast has 
commenced. It has sometimes commenced earlier in a 
southern part of the coast than further north, and on 
the western coast of the county Cork before any other 
part of the United Kingdom. These facts are all ad- 
verse to the accounts which have been given of a grand 
movement in military order from the arctic seas. On 
the east coast of Scotland the herrings often spawn at 
a different period from those which resort to the western 
coast, and at the same time their condition is quite dissi- 
milar. Mr. Jesse, in his ' Gleanings in Natural History,' 
states that the herrings of Cardigan Bay are much supe- 
rior to those taken at Swansea. Dr. Macculloch* is of 
opinion that this may arise from their obtaining more 
abundant or different food. He states that in Scotland 

* 'The Highlands and Western Iales of Scotland,' by John 
Macculloch, M.D., F.R.S 

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[Februait 4> 

no migration takes place even between the two coasts, 
and that when the herrings first appear on the western 
coast it is not in shoals ; and instead of being taken by 
the net they are taken by the line. Sir Humphry 
Davy has remarked as follows in his 'Salmonia:' — "It 
has always appeared to me, that the two great sources 
of change of places of animals, was the providing of 
food for themselves, and resting-places and food for 
their young. The great supposed migrations of her- 
rings from the poles to the temperate zone, have ap- 
peared to me to be only the approach of successive shoals 
from deep to shallow water, for the purpose of spawn- 
ing." The presumption, therefore, is that the herring is 
a permanent inhabitant of our seas, and that there are 
different varieties of the species. Mr. Yarrell * says : — 
"There are three species of herrings said to visit the 
Baltic, and three seasons of roe and spawning. The 
stromling, or small spring herring, spawns when the 
ice begins to melt; then a large summer herring; and 
lastly, towards the middle of September, the autumn 
herring makes its. appearance and deposits its spawn." 
The same naturalist has discovered what he believes to 
be a second species of British herring : it is found heavy 
with roe at the end of January, which it does not de- 
posit till the middle of February. The flavour is milder 
than that of the common herring, but it is not so large, 
its length being seven inches, and its depth two. 

The frequent changes of theiithaunts by herrings have 
been a fruitful source of speculation, though this fact is 
adverse to the accounts which gave to their migration all 
the regularity which would seem to belong to so well 
organized an army. At one time they frequent a parti- 
cular part of the coast for several years, and they after- 
wards suddenly abandon it. The change is doubtless 
occasioned by circumstances which it is their nature to 
obey. In the time of Charles I. the Long Island, one 
of the western islands of Scotland, was a favourite resort 
of the herring, and buildings Were erected for the pur- 
pose of establishing a fishery, but it was abandoned in 
consequence of the fish ceasing to frequent that part of 
the coast. Dr. Macculloch, in his work on the * High- 
lands and Western Isles of Scotland, 1 has introduced 
some remarks which are too apt to be omitted in this 
place. " As vulgar philosophy (he says) is never satis- 
fied unless it can find a cause for everything, this dis- 
appearance of the herring has been attributed to the 
manufacture of kelp. But kelp was not introduced for 
very many years after the herrings had left the Long 
Island, as well as many other coasts which they had 
frequented. It is also a popular belief that naval 
engagements, or even the firing of guns, cause them to 
change their haunts. Thus their desertion of Sweden 
was attributed to the battle of Copenhagen ; and now, 
when guns are at peace, the steam-boats are the 'suffi- 
cient reason.' The one reason is as valid as the other. 
It is a chance if there has been a gun fired in the West- 
ern Islands since the days of Cromwell, and they have 
shifted their quarters within that period many a time. 
They have long left Loch Hourn, and Loch Torridon, 
where steam-boats never yet smoked; and since the 
steam-boat has chosen to go to Inverary, they have also 
thought fit to prefer Loch Fyne to all the western bays. 
But theoiies like this have at least the merit of antiquity. 
Long before the days of gunpowder, the ancient High- 
landers thought that the fish deserted those coasts where 
blood had been shed; so that the gun hypothesis is only 
an old one revived, with the necessary modifications." 

Assuming that the herring approaches our shores 
from the deep surrounding seas, and does not migrate 
from the polar seas alone, there are three different cir- 
cumstances which may occasion its movements: — 1. For 
the purpose of spawning. 2. In pursuit of food. 3. To 
escape from enemies which prey upon them. 

* « A History of British Fishes/ by William Ywrell, JVL,S, 

The herring spawns towards the end of October or 
the beginning of November; and for the purpose of 
vivification it is necessary that it should be deposited 
in shallow water, where it may receive the heat of th* 
sun. This instinctive movement is felt in the middle 
of July, and they are thus brought within the reach of 
man when they are in the highest perfection. They 
are worthless as food after having deposited their spawn, 
and the fishing season of course terminates. Mr. Yar- 
rell is of opinion, from repeated examinations, that 
the herringsile, or young herrings, do not mature any 
roe during their first year; and hence they are not im- 
pelled to retire to the deep sea, but haunt the coasts. 
The weight of spawn in the herring is 480 grains, and 
the number of eggs between 300O and 4000. This 
spawn has been thrown ashore in Orkney, found around 
the Isle of Man and all along the western shores ef 
Scotland, and in the western lochs. A greater degree 
of observation would mort probably prove that it is de- 
posited around the British coasts generally, particularly 
the coast of Scotland. 

Fishermen have remarked that the herring was most 
abundant where the medusa, and other marine ani- 
mals which give the sea a luminous appearance, were 
to be found. The movements of herrings are doubtless 
frequently determined by the time and place where food 
is abundant. If it is not to be found in one spot it must 
be sought for in another; and the apparent caprice 
which they show in frequenting places at "irregular 
times and irregular intervals, is determined by a pro- 
vident regard to the abundance of food with which 
those places are supplied. 

Lastly, in endeavouring to escape from whales, gram- 
puses, sharks, and other enemies, the movements of the 
herring are the result of necessity ; and nothing seems 
more unlikely than that they should, under such cir- 
cumstances, display an instinctive attachment to parti- 
cular places. 

Having now furnished the principal facts connected 
with the natural history of the herring, we shall in an- 
other paper proceed to notice the mode in which it is 
taken and cured for food. 


(Extracted from a paper by John Edward Gray, F.R.S., in l The 
Analyt ' far January, 1837.) 

" Staying lately in the neighbourhood of Newcastle- 
upon-Tyne, I repeatedly visited the Museum of the 
Natural History Society of that town, and I was much 
pleased with the collection, and the admirable state in 
which it is kept ; but I was more especially gratified 
with the liberality of the subscribers in throwing the 
museum open, without the necessity of an introduction, 
or any charge to their fellow-townsmen — a facility of 
access scarcely to be expected, except in a national es- 
tablishment like the British Museum. The museum of 
this society was formerly opened to all classes in an 
evening, when it was lighted up for the occasion ; but 
the visiters who availed themselves of the privilege 
were so numerous, that it was impossible for them to 
inspect the collection with advantage. The committee, 
in consequence, was under the necessity of altering 
their mode of admission ; and they now issue a certain 
number of tickets each night, which are sent to the 
workmen of the different factories in the neighbour- 
hood, in rotation, for the admission of the holder and 
his family, or to such persons as make previous appli- 
cation at the institution ; a plan which has been found 
to give general satisfaction. 

11 The anniversary meeting occurred during my stay 
in Newcastle, and it is characteristic of the liberality of 

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the subscribers, thai one of its members rose and in- 
quired if the council had taken into consideration how 
increased facilities could be given for the admission of 
the public to the museum. The collection of the Anti- 
quarian Society (which contains many very interesting 
specimens of art, deposited in another part of the build- 
ing) is, also, in a like manner, open gratuitously to the 
inspection of the public; and I sincerely wish this li- 
berality was more generally displayed in similar socie- 
ties, as I firmly believe that, if such a plan were 
adopted, it would have the effect of increasing the 
funds of the institution, from the number of persons 
who would take an interest in its prosperity ; and the 
subscribers would have the gratification of knowing 
they were promoting the spread of knowledge, good 
taste, and feeling, among their fellow townspeople. 
This society, besides setting so good an example to 
other institutions, has distinguished itself by the energy 
and scientific knowledge of many of its members, who 
have published papers in their 'Transactions' which 
may rank with productions on similar subjects in the 
c Transactions' of our metropolitan societies. 

" It was with the greatest pleasure that I heard it 
stated in the Report of the Newcastle Society, that, 
notwithstanding articles of great value were exposed on 
the cases without any cover, they had never lost a 
single specimen, nor had any part of the collection 
been injured by the visiters. This account quite 
agrees with my own experience in the British Museum, 
where there hate been occasionally more than six thou- 
sand visiters in a single day. During the last twelve or 
thirteen years I have been in that institution (and the 
greater part of this time I have had the immediate su- 
perintendence of the zoological part of the collection), I 
do not recollect a single instance of wilful injury, and, 
indeed, hardly of carelessness, on the part of the visiters, 
though now and then a pane of glass may be cracked ; 
but that is scarcely to be avoided from the frequently 
crowded state of the rooms, with glass cases in every 
direction. From my experience in the British Mu- 
seum, and in other situations, I think that the English 
public have been most unjustly abused in this respect ; 
partly arising from that delight which the English have 
in complaining of their countrymen, and praising fo- 
reigners at their expense, and partly by designing per- 
sons, who have profited by places being kept from 
public view, except on the payment of fees. For ex- 
ample : I do not think (though the accusation has 
been repeatedly made) that the English are more in- 
clined to write on walls than our continental neigh- 
bours, except that they have not the constant dread of 
the surveillance of the police, which the French appear 
always to have before their eyes. In those places 
where it can be done with little chance of detection — as 
in the passages of the Courts of Justice, in Paris — I 
have seen the walls much disfigured by writing in 
charcoal instead of chalk ; the French hand in which 
they were written, and the names, at once showing it 
was the work of natives. 

** In other parts of the Continent, as in Switzerland, 
where the inhabitants are not under the surveillance of 
the police, the walls are as much disfigured by writing 
as in England •, and I need only instance the chapel of 
William Tell. This remnant of barbarism, therefore, 
which has been called by some ' English taste,' is not 
peculiar to our country, and I am inclined to believe 
that a great improvement in this respect is taking place 
amongst the English ; indeed I have no doubt, as the 
education of the people advances, it will rapidly disap- 
pear. I feel assured that the best and most speedy 
*ay to eradicate the evil will be to adopt, in the va- 
rious local institutions, the liberal example of the Natu- 
ral History Society of Newcastle, as the means best 
calculated to impart a taste for the beauties- of the 

creation among the people ; and if the picture galleries, 
churches, cathedrals, and other buildings containing 
works of art in the country, were freely opened to their 
inspection, it would have the effect of giving them a 
taste for the fine arts. I think the exemplary behavi- 
our of the visiters in the British Museum, and4n the 
museum of the Newcastle Society, fully justifies a 
similar trial in other places. 7 ' 


In Norway, and perhaps in some other northern coun 
tries, the following very simple contrivance is used for 
the capture of the wolf :— In a circle of about six or 
eight feet in diameter, stakes are driven so close to each 
other that a wolf cannot creep through, and which are 
high enough to prevent his leaping over them. In the 
midst of this circle a single stake is driven, to which a 
lamb or a young kid is bound. Around this circle a 
second is formed, of which the stakes are as close and 
as high as the inner one, and at a distance not greater 
than will permit of a wolf to pass conveniently, but not 
to allow of his turning round. In the outer circle a 
door is formed, which opens inward, and rests against 
the inner circle, but moves easily on its hinges, and 
fastens itself on shutting. Through this door the wolves 
enter, sometimes in such a number as to fill the en- 
closure. The first wolf now paces the circle in order to 
discover some opening through which he can get at the 
lamb. When he comes to the back of the door which 
is in his way, he pushes it with his muzzle, it closes and 
fastens, he passes by, and goes the round for the second 
time, without being able either to enter the inner circle, 
or to retreat from the Outer. At length he perceives 
that he is a prisoner, and his hideous howling announces 
to those who have constructed the trap that he is taken, 
who immediately come and dispatch him. It is said 
that this sort of trap is also used for foxes, and even 
occasionally for mice. 

During the Mohammedan festival to celebrate the 
birth of the prophet, called at Cairo Moo' lid en-Neb' ee> 
and which continues for ten days and nights, a very 
curious exhibition takes place. Mr. Lane, in his c Ac- 
count of the Manuers and Customs of the Modern 
Egyptians,' has given a minute detail of the whole of 
the proceedings, and from this we extract the following 
account of the remarkable ceremony to which we have 
alluded : — 

44 The concourse, however, gradually increased ; for 
a very remarkable spectacle was to be witnessed; a 
sight which, every year, on this day, attracts a multitude 
of wondering beholders. This is called the Do'sch, or 
Treading. I shall now describe it. 

" The sheykh of the Saadee'yeh durwee'shes (the seyd 
Mohham'mad El-Menzela'wee), who is khatee'b (or 
preacher) of the mosque of the Hhasaney'n, after hav- 
ing, as they say, passed a part of the last night in soli- 
tude, repeating certain prayers and secret invocations 
and passages from the Ckoor-a'n, repaired this day 
(being Friday) to the mosque above mentioned, to 
perform his accustomed duty. The noon-prayers and 
preaching being concluded, he rode thence to the house 
of the Sheykh El-Bek'ree, who presides over all the 
orders of durwee'shes in Egypt. This house is on the 
southern side of the Bir'ket El-Ezbekee'yeh, next to 
that which stands at the south-western angle. On his 
way from the mosque he was joined by numerous par- 
ties of Sa'adee durwee'shes from different districts of 
the metropolis : the members from each district bearing 
a pair of flags. The sheykh is an old, grey-bearded 

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[February 4, 1837 

man, of an intelligent and amiable countenance, and 
fair complexion. He wore this day a white ben'ish, and 
a white ckaWck (or padded cap, covered with cloth), 
having a turban composed of muslin of a very deep 
olive colour, scarcely to be distinguished from black, 
with a atrip of white muslin bound obliquely across 
the front. The horse upon which he rode was one of 
moderate height and weight ; my reason for mentioning 
this will presently be seen. The sheykh entered the 
Bir'ket El-Exbekee'yeh preceded by a very numerous 
procession of the durwee'shes, of whom he is the chief. 
In the way through this place, the procession stopped 
at a short distance before the house of the Sheykh El- 
Bek'ree. Here a considerable number of the dur- 
wee'shes and others (I am sure that there were more 
than sixty, but I could not count their number) laid 
themselves down upon the ground, side by side, as 
close as possible to each other, having their backs up- 
wards, their legs extended, and their arms placed toge- 
ther beneath their foreheads. They incessantly mut- 
tered the word Allah! About twelve or more dur- 
wee'shes, most without their shoes, then ran over the 
backs of their prostrate companions ; some beating 
bdztM y or little drums, of a hemispherical form, held in 
the left, hand, and exclaiming Al'lah! and then the 
sheykh approached: his horse hesitated, for several 
minutes, to step upon the back of the first of the pros- 
trate men ; but being pulled, and urged on behind, he 
at length stepped upon him ; and then, without appa- 
rent fear, ambled with a high pace over them all, led 

[Ceremony of the Do'seh. or Treading.] 

by two persons, who ran over the prostrate men, one 
sometimes treading on the feet, and the other on the 

heads. The spectators immediately raised a long cry 
of •• AHa'h la' la' la' la' lali !" Not one of the mea 
thus trampled upon by the horse seemed to be hurt; 
but each, the moment that the animal had passed <tver 
him, jumped up, and followed the sheykh. Each of 
them received two treads from the horse ; one from one 
of his fore- legs and a second from a hind-leg. It is said 
that these persons, as well as the sheykh, make use of 
certain words (that is, repeat prayers and invocations) 
on the day preceding this performance, to enable them 
to endure without injury the tread of the horse ; and 
that some not thus prepared, having the temerity to lie 
down to be rode over, have, on more than one occasion, 
been either killed or severely injured. The performance 
is considered as a miracle effected through supernatu- 
ral power which has been granted to every successive 
sheykh of the Saadee'yeh.* Some persons assert that 
the horse is unshod for the occasion ; but I thought I 
could perceive that this was not the case. They sav 
also that the animal is trained for the purpose ; but, if 
so, this would only account for the least surprising of 
the circumstances ; I mean, for the fact of the horse 
being made to tread on human beings ; an act from 
which it is well known that animal is very averse. The 
present sheykh of the Saadee'yeh refused, for several 
years, to perform the Do'seh. By much entreaty he 
was prevailed upon to empower another person to do 
it. This person, a blind man, did it successfully ; but 
soon after died ; and the sheykh of the Saadee'yeh then 
yielded to the request of his durwee'shes ; and has since 
always performed the Do'seh himself." 

At a subsequent festival, that of the Meara'g, or the 
night of the Prophet's miraculous ascension to heaven, 
this exhibition was repeated. 

" The foremost persons, chiefly his own durwee'shes, 
apparently considerably more than a hundred (but I 
found it impossible to count them) were laid down in 
the street, as close as possible together, in the same 
manner as at the Moo'lid en-Neb'ee. They incessantly 
repeated 'Al'lah I * A number of durwee'shes, most 
with their shoes off, ran over them; several beating 
their little drums ; some carrying the black flags of the 
order of the Rifa"ees (the parent order of the Sa'adees); 
and two carrying a sha'Utsh (a pole about twenty feet 
in length, like a large flag-staff, the chief banner of 
the Saadee'yeh, with a large conical ornament of brass 
on the top) : then came the sheykh, on the same grey 
horse that he rode at the Moo'lid en-Neb'ee : he was 
dressed in a light blue pelisse, lined with ermine, and 
wore a black, or almost black, moock'leh ; which is a 
large, formal turban, peculiar to persons of religious j 
and learned professions. He rode over the prostrate I 
men, mumbling all the while; two persons led his horse; 
and they, also, trod upon the prostrate men ; sometimes 
on the legs, and on the heads. Once the horse pranced 
and curvetted, and nearly trod upon several heads ; he 
passed over the men with a high and hard pace. The 
sheykh entered the house of the Sheykh EI-Bek'ree, 
before mentioned, adjoining the mosque. None of the 
men who were rode over appeared to be hurt, and 
many got up laughing ; but one appeared to be mcl- 
boo's, or overcome by excitement; and, though he did 
not put his hand to his back, as if injured by the tread 
of the horse, seemed near fainting, and tears rolled 
down his face : it is possible, however, that this man 
was hurt by the horse, and that he endeavoured to con- 
ceal the cause/ 

* M It is taid that the second sheykh of the Saadee'yeh (ths 
immediate successor of the founder of the order) rode over heaps 
of glass bottles without breaking any of them !" 

V The Office of the Society for the Diffusion of Uwftal Knowledge m at 
69, Lincoln's Inn Fields. 


Printed by William Clowis and So** SUmfcrd Street. , 

Digitized by 




Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. 



[Februaiiv 11, 1837, 










P r 

F • ...--- 

intendent, a charge-taker ; a sheriff is, in legal phra- 
seology, the king's bailiff, and his county is his baili- 
wick. One of the titles of the chief magistrate of 
London, before that of mayor was finally adopted, was 
bailiff. Anciently, no matter what crime a person might 
be accused of, he enjoyed the privilege of bail. He 
was delivered into the charge of his sureties, who were 
pledged to produce him at the proper time. But many 
alterations were made by statute in the conditions of 
the privilege. Murder was excepted — then treason — 
and other felonies, until it became the practice to take 
bail only for more venial offences, the Court of King's 
Bench alone having the power to admit to bail for 
serious crimes. A recent act of Parliament (the 7th 
George IV., c. 64) has returned somewhat to the an- 
Vol, VI. 

and the witnesses are bound over to give their testi- 
mony on the trial. 

The street called the Old Bailey strikes off from 
Ludgate Hill, and terminates at the intersection of 
Newgate Street and Skinner Street. The continua- 
tion of the Old Bailey is called Giltspur Street, which 
leads into Smithfield. The city wall ran along here 
from Lud Gate to New Gate. The New Gate appears 
to have been made a place of custody, at least as early 
as the beginning of the thirteenth century ; and the 
name has been applied to every successive structure 
that has occupied the site. 

About the middle of the Old Bailey Street com 
mences the extensive range of buildings which form 
the courts of justice and the prison. The prison, a 

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{Fbbivaby 11, 

massive and frowning structure, occupies the end of 
the Old Bailey, and turns up Newgate Street. The 
present building was erected in the place of a previous 
one which had been rebuilt after the Great Fire of 
London, and had been found totally inadequate to 
its purposes. Even in times when there scarcely 
existed a distinct idea on the nature of prison economy 
(which shows what it must have been), the corporation 
of the city applied to government for assistance to re- 
build the prison ; a sum of money was granted, and 
the foundation-stone of the new building was laid by 
the celebrated Lord Mayor Beckford — the father of the 
author of * Vathek,' the builder of Fonthill Abbey,— 
in the year 1770 ; but it was burned in the dreadful 
riots of 1780, the mob liberating the prisoners, and 
carrying off the keys in triumph. The assistance of 
government was again afforded, and the present build- 
ing completed. 

Newgate has a wide -spread notoriety, not merely as 
the head-gaol of London, and from the remarkable 
names and deeds associated with it, but from the la- 
bours of philanthropists. It has lain in the heart 
of this great city like some foul and undrained marsh, 
into which all the waters of corruption were poured. It 
has ever been a fertile nursery of crime. From within 
its walls physical as well as moral contagion has issued, 
and spread disease in most noxious and aggravated 
forms. The gaol-distemper has more than once struck 
down the functionaries who appeared at the Old Bailey 
Sessions, as well as the prisoners themselves. New- 
gate now is a palace to what Newgate was ; yet Mr. 
Crawford, in his official 'Report on Penitentiaries' 
(1884), says, it is '* a prolific source of corruption, — a 
disgrace to the metropolis, and a national reproach." 

Amongst all who have laboured to alleviate the 
miseries of Newgate, the honoured name of Mrs. Fry 
must not be overlooked. To give a proper idea of the 
state of the prison when she began her labours would 
require statements unfit for our pages : but the follow- 
ing extract from Mrs. Fry's evidence before a Com- 
mittee of the House of Commons, in 1818, will gWe the 
reader a faint notion of the moral courage and patience 
which this excellent woman must have possessed to 
enable her to pursue her self-chosen avocation : — 

" About what time was it when you first visited 
Newgate, and established a committee of ladies to visit 
the female prisoners ? — It is rather more than a year 
since I first established a school for the children of the 
convicts ; I did not undertake the care of the 6onvicts 
till about two months afterwards — their children first 
attracted my attention. 

" Have the goodness to relate what you did with re- 
gard to the children. — In visiting the prison, which I 
had been occasionally in the habit of doing for several 
years, I very much lamented to see children so much 
exposed among those very wicked women, and I under- 
stood that the first language they lisped was generally 
oaths or very bad expressions ; it therefore struck me 
how important it would be to separate them from the 
convicts, and to have them put in a small apartment by 
themselves under the care of a schoolmistress, provided 
it met with the approbation of the women themselves, for 
I always approved acting in concert with them in what- 
ever I did ; I represented my views to the mothers, and 
they with tears in their eyes said, * Oh, how thankful 
we would be for it!' for they knew so much the miseries 
of vice, that they hoped their children would never be 
trained up in it. * • • It was in our first visits to the 
school, where we some of us attended almost every day, 
that we were witnesses to the dreadful proceedings 
that went forward on the female side of the prisonr— the 
begging, swearing, gaming, fighting, singing, dancing 
— the scenes are too bad to be described, so that we did 
not think it suitable to admit young persons with us. 4 ' ! 

" As a proof of the want of classification/' Mrs. Fry 
says, in another portion of her evidence, " women who 
came in weeping over their deviations, some small de- 
viations perhaps, by the time of their trial or dismissal 
would sometimes become so barefaced and wicked as 
to laugh at the very same things, and to be fitted for 
almost any crime. I understand that before we went 
into the prison it was considered a reproach, to be a 
modest woman." 

We have already said that the prison is a very dif- 
ferent place from what it was ;— let us, therefore, 
venture in. We shall find the officers, from the 
governor downwards, civil, attentive, and obliging. 
Ascending a few steps, and expressing a wish to see 
the boys' ward, we are conducted through a dark laby- 
rinthine passage, and on mounting a stair, the merry 
Shouts that we hear seem to proceed from the play- 
ground of a school. Here are two rooms — one the 
school-room by day and sleeping-room by night, the 
other the day- room. In the latter, about fifteen or six- 
teen boys are tumbling about at play. A well-known 
voice calls out " Stand around !" but the quick eyes of 
the youngsters tell them that the strangers are not 
official visiters ; and they therefore come forward, bob- 
bing their heads, or rather pulling them down by the 
front-locks, and boisterously elbowing each other as 
they fall into line. An almost indistinct murmur, how- 
ever, lets them know the extent of their discretion, and 
they stand quiet. " That boy," pointing to a child of 
about ten or eleven years of age, " is under sentence of 
death ! " In a moment, the little creature feels him- 
self the object of greatest importance in the group, and 
his look evinces it. 

Alderman Harmer, in his evidence before the Com- 
missioners on Criminal Law, given in 1835,- says, ** A 
boy gets intermixed with a few of his little loose 
acquaintances, and is tempted or urged by them to 
commit a petty theft, which he had not previously con- 
templated ; he is committed to Newgate to take his 
trial, which, instead of its having any effect to deter 
him in future from crime, is a source of amusement to 
him. The novelty of everything about him pleases 
rather than afflicts him : on entering the prison, he 
sees no misery or melancholy, such as he hod antici- 
pated, but all are playful and merry, and the dread, if 
he had any, of the trial is dissipated the moment he 
enters into court. To find the judges and the officers 
in their costume, — that he has the power to challenge 
the jury, — that all the forms and ceremonies of a trial are 
on his account, — and that he is the hero of the piece, — 
tends rather to gratify his vanity than to intimidate 
him. He hears that he is the object of commiseration 
by the audience saying, • What a pity it is that such a 
child should be brought here ! ' And whatever may be 
the result of the trial, what is the consequence of his 
committal ? — he is, perhaps, intermixed with a captain 
of some of the little gangs in Newgate ; — -he hears him 
recount his hair-breadth escapes, and sees how he is 
laughed at and admired for his conduct amongst his 
associates, — and it is an encouragement to him to 
imitate the conduct he has heard extolled. 

" Does the course taken with young offenders ope- 
rate as a punishment sufficient in its nature to deter 
them from crime? — Certainly not; a boy affects to cry 
at the bar, and his mother or some relation will cry 
with him, and the judge gives him a little lecture and 
sends him home; or sometimes they inflict a whipping, 
but that is made a matter of laugh among these young 

rascals after becoming inured to a gaol 

I think, if the boy is under twelve years of age, when 
the mind is hardly formed, it is too much to send him 
for trial at the Old Bailey, and thus, whether found 
guilty or not, consign him to infamy for life/' 

Let us pass now from the boys' ward to that of the 

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nen's. Here they are lounging about the day-room ; 
>ut at the command of " Stand around!" they fall into 
ine for inspection with a quieter promptness than did 
he boys — one or two with a sullen scowl, some with 
in easy indifference, others with a half-kind of smile, 
is if not so much accustomed to the discipline. They 
ire mostly young men, from sixteen years of age to 
twenty-five. The greater part of these individuals have 
probably come through the first part of their appren- 
ticeship in crime, and are now rising into life with 
seared hearts, depraved and almost irreclaimable habits, 
and their intellectual powers exercised in nothing but 
the dexterity and "meanness of theft. 

Where are the little receptacles technically termed 

the condemned cells? Fearfully narrow and dark are 

they, with a small grated aperture in each, receiving 

light from the court in which the criminals are permitted 

to walk during the day. The prisoners against whom 

sentence of death is recorded sleep on a mat in these 

cells during the night. There are no criminals here at 

present, for alterations are going on : the paved court 

is being divided into two by a brick wall thrown across, 

and an iron palisade guards the top of this lofty wall. 

This has been done to prevent any more of such escapes 

as that of the chimney-sweep, whose case excited some 

time ago considerable attention. With the dexterity of 

his profession, he scaled a wall which, at first sight, 

seems scarcely to afford footing for a rat to scramble 

up. But his escape availed him little*' — poor wretch — 

he could not get out of the meshes which a life of guilt 

had woven around him ; and he is again in the hands 

of justice for a fresh crime. 

The plan of Newgate is quadrangular. The untried 
prisoners are kept separate from the tried, and the 
young from the old. It was built originally without 
sleeping cells for separate confinement, except the con- 
demned cells ; the number of night rooms is 33, in each 
of which there are at night from 15 to 30 persons ; the 
number of day rooms, or wards, is 10 ; 129 sleeping 
cells might be got by dividing these large rooms, but 
462 additional cells would still be wanting, for which 
the prison affords no space. 

The next paper will contain an account of the Central 
Criminal Court, a view of the forms of a trial, and a 
brief notice of the other London gaols. 


Mode of taking and curing Htrrmgs. — The herring- 
fishery is only carried on during the spawning season, 
when the fish are in the highest perfection. The Yar- 
mouth herring-fishery commences about the middle of 
September, but the season varies at different parts of 
the coast. On the coast of Sutherland the early her- 
ring-fishery commences in June ; the late fishery about 
the middle of July, and continues until September. 
On the coast of Cromarty large shoals appear as early 
as the month of May. The great object is to obtain a 
supply for the purpose of curing, although, in the early 
part of the season, large numbers of fresh herrings are 
brought to the Loudon market from Yarmouth ; and 
the consumption at Norwich and other places, which 
are not at a great distance from the coast, is also con- 
siderable. The fish are sometimes so rich in the early 
pant of the season as to be unfit for curing, and on this 
account they are brought into the market for immediate 
consumption. The spawning season being over by the 
end of October or the beginning of November the fish- 
ing terminates, as the herrings are then in a poor and 
exhausted condition. 

The size of the boat used in the herring-fishery de- 
pends upon the distance from the shore at which the 
fishery is intended to be carried on, and also as to 
whether the intention be to cure red herrings or white 
herrings, As red herrings must be cured on shore, 

while white herrings require only to be salted and put 
into barrels, those who are .engaged in the red herring 
trade find it convenient to keep within a certain dis- 
tance of the coast. The white herrings may be cured 
on board the vessel ; and as the fishermen may go out 
to sea wherever the fish are to be found, this is called 
a deep-sea fishery, and of course a vessel of a larger 
description is required thau when the cargo has to be 
taken as speedily as possible to the drying-house. The 
business at Yarmouth is entirely in red herrings, which 
are in the greatest demand for the home market, while 
the export trade, carried on at other ports, chiefly 
consists of white herrings. The same men are in 
general acquainted with each mode of curing. The 
vessels fitted out for the deep-sea fishery meet with 
the earliest and best herrings ; and, owing to the 
manner in which herrings desert parts of the coast 
which they have been accustomed to frequent, it is a 
more permanent source of profit than the boat fishery, 
though it requires a larger capital. The vessels must 
contain sufficient room in the hold for the stowage of 
salt, nets, barrels, and provisions. They lie low in the 
water, and the sides are furnished with rollers and lee- 
boards to facilitate the drawing in of the nets. The 
Dutch, who pursued the deep-sea fishery, and once 
carried it on with great spirit and success, were usually 
provided with a double set of nets for fear of accident ; 
as their distance from port would have rendered the 
loss or destruction of one set a matter of serious conse- 
quence, and the hopes of a whole season might have 
been lost. The Yarmouth boats are generally of about 
fifty tons burden, and manned with eleven or twelve 
men, of whom one-fourth are usually landsmen. In 
addition, there are two landsmen who are employed in 
ferrying to and from the decked vessel, and in curing 
the herrings on shore. The fishing places are from fif- 
teen to thirty miles north of Yarmouth, from thirty to 
forty-five miles to the eastward, and the boats go south- 
ward as far as the mouth of the Thames and the South 
Foreland. The depth of water in which the fishery is 
carried on is from fifteen to twenty fathoms. The 
Yarmouth fishing-vessels are fitted out at a cost of 
about 1000/. each. Each of them is furnished with 
from 180 to 200 nets, which cost between 300/. and 
400/. ; and with six ropes, each 120 fathoms in length, 
weighing separately from 4 cwt. to 4£ cwt., and of the 
total value of 50/. or 60/. These nets and ropes re 
quire to be renewed nearly every fourth year, owing to 
the destructive effects of the sea and the ravages of 
dog-fish, which, in preying upon the herrings when 
they are inclosed within the nets, injure the nets them- 

The description of vessel fitted out for the herring- 
fishery on the eastern and western coasts of Scotland 
is called a M buss," of from fifty to eighty tons burden, 
cutter-built. They ply from loch to loch in pursuit 
of the herrings, and come to anchor in fhe nearest 
harbour when the fish appear. A man or two is left 
on board the buss to take charge of her, and the rest 
go out in the boats, each manned with four hands, for 
the purpose of setting the nets. Each boat has two 
trains of nets, 2S0 or 240 yards long, and from eleven 
to twelve yards deep. In deep water both trains are 
tied together by the back-rope, one end to windward 
and the other to leeward. The boats are fastened at 
each end and allowed to drive to leeward with the nets. 
Every half-hour, or oftener, the men endeavour to 
ascertain if there are any herrings in the net. This 
they do by following along the line of the back-rope, 
and here and there raising a piece of netting. By this 
means they not only find when they are upon good 
fishing-ground, but learn whether the herrings swim 
high or low, and they raise or sink the nets accordingly, 
by shortening or lengthening the buoys by which the 
nets are kept up, Sometimes they traverse ten o 

H 2 

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[February 2 

[Yarmouth Jetty.— Herring-Boats returned.] 
twenty miles in a night, setting their nets ten or twelve | not rich enough to possess an entire boat join with 
"" ' ~ " others in the same condition, and become the joint pro- 

prietors of one. Every species of boat which is sea- 

times in different places. The fishing is never carried 
on but in the night, and the darkest nights, accom- 
panied by a slight breeze, are the most propitious. In 
the morning, at daylight, the fishermen take their 
cargo to their respective busses. When the herrings 
are in great numbers, their labours are comparatively 
light. The nets are set in the evening, a small anchor 
is fixed to each end of the train, and they are not hauled 
or raised until morning. In this case the trains are 
not joined together, but are set separately, and near the 
buss, on board of which the men sleep. The crews of 
the busses are engaged by the month, and a great pro- 
portion of them are landsmen, pursuing other labours 
when the fishing season is over. Each man receives, 
in addition to his wages, a certain quantity of herrings, 
when the season is a good one, and a smaller proportion 
when it is unfavourable. 

Fast-sailing smacks, cutters, or sloops, of from thirty 
to eighty tons burden, are sometimes despatched to 
the fishing-stations, not for the purpose of engaging di- 
rectly in the fishery, but to purchase herrings in a fresh 
state of the country or boat-fishermen. They are im- 
mediately sprinkled with salt, and when a cargo is 

worthy is afloat, and at sunset hundreds of boats 
depart and set their nets, returning in the morning' to 
dispose of their cargoes. The arrangement which his 
been spoken of is highly advantageous to this class of 
fishermen, as there are no markets to which the nsh 
could be taken for immediate consumption ; and with- 
out the intervention of a class of men possessing capital, 
the pursuit would be much less profitable. One dis- 
advantage which attends the boat-fishery arises from 
the frequent changes which take place in the appearance 
of the herrings, as these boats cannot follow the fish 
into the deep-sea. The fishermen on the deserted 
coasts, in consequence of expensive and ill-remnneraled 
exertions, sink into poverty. This evil can only be 
remedied by the introduction of capital, which would 
enable the fishermen to fit out a larger description of 
boats, and to follow the fish, which, though they desert 
the coast, are to be found in the adjacent sea. Instead 
of being partly agriculturists, kelp-makers, and fisher- 
men, none of which pursuits are carried on with the 
success with which they might be if separately pursued. 

completed, these vessels return home, or to some fish- they would be able to devote their whole labour and 

ing-station on the coast, where the herrings are cured. 
The boat-fishery at the Isle of Man was in a very 
flourishing state about fifty years ago. About 400 
boats, of from five to twenty tons each, manned with 
from four to eight men, and each boat having eight or 
twelve nets, were fitted out from the Bay of Douglas. 
The boat-fishing is often very successful when the fish- 
ing-ground is not at a great distance from the shore. 
It may be carried on with little capital, the process of 
curing, which requires expensive establishments, and a 
considerable outlay for wages being undertaken by the 
owners of the vessels, who purchase the fish as it is 
taken. In the Island of Lewis, one of the western 
islands of Scotland, every hamlet, and even farm, has 
its fishing-boat. The year is divided between farming, 
Ashing, and the manufacture of kelp. Those who are 

skill to <me department of industry ; and, obtaining the 
means of purchasing agricultural produce, two distinct 
branches of industry would be supported, each of which 
would tend to enrich the other, as improvements would 
be introduced into each by their respective followers, 
and they would be carried on under the most advan- 
tageous circumstances. At present, these fishing 1 - boats 
are generally manned with from two to four men. 
They are about sixteen feet in length, and rigged with 
a single lug-sail : they cost about 36/. The meshes 
of the nets are restricted by law to a square inch. This 
regulation is complained of as preventing the capture of 
fish of a serviceable size, while herrings full of milt and 
roe are taken in abundance. Some fish is cured by the 
fishermen themselves, but the greater quantity is sold 
in a fresh state, chiefly to purchasers from the Clyde,. 

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When herrings are taken in moderate, yet regular 
quantities, they are immediately taken from the boats 
into the vessel, and put into barrels as expeditiously 
as possible, being previously salted. When they are 
taken in large numbers, they are conveyed to the shore, 
where the same operation is performed under a covering 
or shade, as the warmth of the sun's rays would injure 
the fish. Many small villages called fishing-stations 
have been built on the coast of Scotland, consisting of 
warehouses for salt, for nets and tackle, and for cured 
fish, with cottages for the curers. Bay-salt is used, as 
it does not dissolve too quickly, but furnishes a supply 
of brine gradually. The Dutch were celebrated for 
preparing a salt for pickling herrings. They evapo- 
rated the brine made from the solution of bay-salt with 
a gentle fire, having mixed with the brine a quantity 
of sour whey. About the middle of last century the 
Society for the Promotion of the British Fisheries 
brought over some Dutchmen to teach the fishermen 
and curers in the North of Scotland and of Shetland 
the Dutch mode of curing herrings, and they remained 
two seasons. It was found that the difference between 
the Dutch and British mode was very trifling, and at 
present it is believed that the latter fully equals the 
former. The herrings which are not salted and barrelled 
the day they are caught are never so good as when 
ill is operation is immediately attended to. The Yar- 
mouth boats continue at sea until they have caught 

■ eight* or ten lasts, of 13,000 herrings to a last, or are 

■ compelled to come to shore for provisions. They are 

■ generally absent from three to six days. The white or 

■ pickled herrings merely require to be salted and put 
ft into barrels, which is done while the vessel is at sea, 
* but when it is intended to prepare red herrings a dif- 

feient process is adopted. The herrings are sprinkled 
with salt, in quantities which depend upon the state of 
the weather, or the distance from port. About one-third 
of a ton is used to each last of herrings. On being 
landed they are immediately carted or carried away in 
baskets to the " rousing-house,'' adjoining the house 
where they are intended to be hung and smoked. They 
are then again sprinkled with salt, and are heaped 
together with wooden shovels, on a floor covered with 
bricks or dag-stones, in which, state they remain dye or 

six days, and they are then washed, spitted, hung up 
and fired. In spitting, as well as in hanging up, great 
care is necessary to prevent the herrings touching each 
other. The spits are round rods made of fir, about 
four feet long, pointed a little at one end. The herrings 
are hung on these rods by the mouth and gills. The 
spits, when so full of herrings that no more can be put 
upon them without causing the herrings to touch each 
other, are handed to persons who place them regularly 
tier above tier on wooden fixtures, supported by joists, 
until the house is full. The distance from the tails of 
the lower tier of herrings to the floor is about seven 
feet. Fires of wood are then lighted, and the great 
art is to manage these fires in a proper manner. They 
must neither be too quick nor too slow, and at times 
they must be extinguished. Green wood is commonly 
used, and as a large quantity is required the expense is 
considerable. Oak and beech are considered to com- 
municate the best colour and flavour; but other wood, 
such as ash, birch, and elm are used with beech and 
oak. The wood of fruit-trees, of fir, or the timber of 
old ships could not be employed without the herrings 
acquiring a bitter taste. The operation of smoking 
red herrings occupies at least three weeks for those 
which are intended for home consumption, as they 
are preferred when soft and not too highly dried ; 
but those for exportation undergo the process for four 
weeks or thirty days. The fires are then extinguished, 
and after the house has been allowed to cool, the spits 
are taken down, and in a few days afterwards the 
herrings are put into barrels. The barrels are made of 
fir, and sometimes of oak and other hard wood. 

When the season has been abundant, some attention 
is paid by the curers to dividing the herrings of different 
qualities into distinct lots. Others do this when they 
are taken from the spit. They are usually distributed 
into four classes ; the large, full-grown, and well-made 
herrings form the first quality, and are known under 
the name of " bloaters." After these are removed the 
best of those which are left constitute the second class. 
Those which are broken in the belly, or will not take 
the salt upon the spit, but turn white, are the third 
description ; and the fourth consists of those which are 
headless, or which will not hang by the gills, but are 

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[February 11, 

hung by the tail, or any other part of the fish, upon 
tenter-hooks. About 7£ per cent, of the herrings in- 
tended to be reddened prove unfit for the process : two- 
thirds of these are cured as white-herrings, and the 
remainder are thrown away. A red-herring-house is 
usually divided into five parts, and the cost of erection 
is between 2000/. and 3000/. 

In packing red-herrings into barrels, a person is 
engaged in counting and (where done at this stage) 
in sorting the herrings. Where this has been done 
before spitting, the packer is attended only by one 
person, who draws six or eight herrings together on 
the spit. The packer takes these off with both his 
hands, and places them all at once on their backs 
in tiers round the bottom of the barrel, the heads close 
to the side staves, the tails meeting in the centre of the 
cask. When these tiers rise above the ends of the bide 
staves the herrings are pressed down, and the upper 
layer is put on with the backs of the herrings upper- 
most. On being left in this state for a day they fall 
down so as to admit of the barrel being headed. Unless 
proper attention be paid to the packing* the head of the 
cask will sink three or four inches below the upper 
edge. The gills having been perforated by the spit are 
distended, and the fins are dry and stiff, but When they 
begin to moisten they turn soft again, the gills close up 
as before, and the herrings lie in a smaller compass 
than when they were first packed. 

The commercial history of the herring-fishery, a 
sketch of which will be given in another paper, supplies 
one or two useful lessons in public economy, and pre- 
sents a striking contrast to the views which are now 
entertained concerning this branch of national industry. 


(Abridged from a Report made by Dr. Arnott to the Poor Law 
Commit noncrt*.) 

That human beings of sound constitution may hate 
life and health to the full period of human existence, 
four thiugs are required — viz., fit air, warmth, aliment 
and exercise of body and mind. 

Ventilaiion. — A human being destroys or poisons the 
oxygen of nearly a gallon of air per minute, which 
Quantity, by mixing with more, contaminates and unfits 
tor use at least three times as much ; and in any case, 
unless ventilation to that extent, and in proportion to 
the number of persons present, be provided for, the air 
Is soon in a state which will seriously affect the health 
of those living in it. 

The history of the prison, since called the Black 
Hole, at Calcutta, furnishes a shocking example in 
illustration of this, in which, of 146 military men con- 
fined for a few hours without ventilation, only twenty- 
three survived the short confinement. The distress, 
often followed by serious illness, which many people 
feel in crowded and unventilated churches, courts of 
justice theatres, and other meeting- places, furnishes 
other examples ; and but that the meetings «»^ usually 
of short duration, and that persons when they feel 
about to faint escape from them, and thereby warn 
those remaining to open windows and doors, fatal oc- 
currences even in those situations would not be unfre- 
quent. Where the invisible poison is less concentrated, 
but of longer continued operation, as formerly in crowded 
and ill-ventilated ships and prisons, fevers of the worst 
description are the consequence, called gaol and ship 
fevers ; and where this poison exists in a still weaker 
degree, as not long ago in many of our manufactories, 
milliners' work-rooms*. &c, the health of the inmates 
was gradually destroyed, while the true cause remained 

* Dr. Arnott's Report is given in the « Second Annual Report 
of the fto* Law Ctounippionwi' (Appendix C> 

unsuspected. And within a few years, since the esta- 
blishment of infant schools, there have been instances 
of the children being collected at first in small rooms, 
where no fit provision had been made for ventilation, 
and where sickness broke out among them from the 
same cause. 

Not long ago, the people working in cotton and 
other factories were observed generally soon to be- 
come pallid and sickly, and then scrofulous in varioas 
degrees, and many of them at last to sink into earl) 
graves; and this happened chiefly because they and 
their employers Were ignorant of the fatal influence oa 
their health of spending so much of their time in close 
apartments, of which the ventilation was either left to 
chance, or waa even studiously prevented to preserve 
the warmth useful for the process of manufacturing. 
These work-people were crowded together, constantly 
breathing a polluted, noxious air, nearly as noxious to 
them as to the trouts of a mountain stream is the water 
of a stagnant pooh Recently, however, wheels or 
fanners for ventilating have been introduced into many 
of the factories, by which the air is drawn out or 
changed With any desired rapidity, while fresh air, arti- 
ficially Warmed, is admitted in its stead ; and now, in 
places where these means have been adopted, the fac- 
tory operatives, being further supplied with good food, 
and not over-worked, have become, as proved by late 
evidence, a most healthy portion of the working com- 

In many crowded schools, hospitals, &c, ventilation 
has been sought by openings made through the wail 
near the ceiling, as directly into the air as when panes 
of glass are broken, with sliding doors to close them 
when desired. Now this means is far from insuring 
the object. In winter, when the fires are burning, 
these openings, instead of being channels of escape for 
impure air, become entrances for cold air, which pours 
down upon those sitting near them ; and, reaching the 
floor, chills the feet of the others as it runs along to 
supply the draught of the chimneys. Persons sitting 
under or near these openings being likely to catch se- 
vere colds or inflammations, generally, when they can, 
close them to obtain security. It is in winter chiefly 
that the mischiefs now spoken of from imperfect venti- 
lation are likely to arise, for in warmer weather win- 
dows jnay be freely opened, although with some hazard 
to those sitting near them. 

Now to effect perfect ventilation in any case with 
absolute certainty is a problem not difficult to solve, if 
existing knowledge be brought to bear upon it. The 
ventilation of our apartments in dwelling-houses by the 
draught of the chimney is very faulty, for it takes away 
rather the pure air which is under the level of the 
chimney-piece, than the impure breath which has as- 
cended from our lungs to the ceiling, and which must 
again come down before it go out ; but as the space is 
usually great in proportion to the number of persons 
present, except on occasions of crowded parties, no in- 
convenience is felt. It was in cotton factories, where 
steam-engines exist to do any desired work, and where 
everybody is familiar with machinery, that perfect ven 
tilation by mechanical means was first thought of and 
executed, and the result has been beneficial as stated. 
For the ventilation of factories, a wheel, on the prin- 
ciple of the fanner used in barns, is placed at an open* 
ing communicating with the space to be ventilated, and 
being turned with any desired rapidity, extracts air to 
the required extent*. A smaller wheel of the same kind 
for small apartments might be worked by a weight, as 
the common kitchen-Jack ; or, instead of a whe>l, a 
pump, or vibrating gasometer; cylinders might be used, 
or any other of the contrivances which engineers know 
or would suggest. An apparatus with a branching 
tube or channel might be made to draw the air with 
any speed from «T«n room to a buildta* 

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FParmth.— In winter, persons sitting without exer- 
tion, and clothed as is usual in England, require a tem- 
perature of from 60° to 65° to be comfortably warm, 
and their feeling of comfort is a measure of their secu- 
rity from the diseases produced by cold. Now, by an 
open fire, it is impossible to give such temperature to 
the whole of a large room, a truth illustrated by the 
fact of persons, when allowed, generally placing them- 
selves in a circle round the fire, beyond which they 
would be too cold, and within which they would be too 
hot ; and when in a large room with an open fire there 
is a numerous company tolerably warm, they are gene- 
rally maintaining their temperature in great part by 
their own impure breath. The frequency of chilblains 
among children at school, where many of them have to 
sit for considerable portions of time in the same room, 
and all therefore cannot equally share the influence pf 
the open fire, is evidence in point, that ailment being a 
consequence of the feet having been chilled, because 
not sufficiently clothed to defend them when either too 
far from the fire, or placed in a stratum of cold air 
moving along the floor to feed the open fire. The heat 
afforded by a close iron stove, such as is used in Ger- 
many and Russia, is more uniform than that of an 
open fire, and is not attended by the draughts, &c, 
accompanying the latter; but is objectionable from 
the very offensive and often pernicious state of the 
air, produced by contact with the over -heated iron. 
In England, where large rooms, like those of cotton 
factories, occupied by many people, have been well 
warmed, the means have been pipes of hot water or 
steam spreading in the apartment to warm the whole 
equally, while the fresh air for ventilation is heated as 
it enters by coming into contact with these pipes. To 
common understanding it must be evident that air 
admitted to a crowded room to supply the rapid venti- 
lation should be nearly of the warmth existing in the 
room, otherwise there is likely to be dangerous cold 
draughts blowing on some of the inmates, or at least 
there may be very unequal warming of the room. 

Of the modes of warming now in common use, that 
by pipes of hot water or steam, as seen in the Han well 
Lunatic Asylum, and many other extensive buildings, 
is the only one suitable for rooms of large dimensions. 
In rooms where the mechanical mode of ventilation 
already described, and now common in factories, has 
been adopted, an addition might be made to the appa- 
ratus for extricating the impure air, which would drive 
fresh air in, and which by causing the two currents to 
pass each other in contact for a certain distance in very 
thin metallic tubes, would cause the fresh air entering 
to absorb nearly the whole heat from the impure air 
going out, and would thus render it at once both pure 
and warm air ; and would consequently save, after the 
room was once warmed, any further expense of fuel for 
the day, and would avoid, how rapid soever the venti- 
lation, all the dangers from draughts and unequal 
heating. This simple mode was described by the Re- 
porter in a lecture delivered at the Royal Institution in 
March, 1836. 

The name of the Caliph Haroun al Raschid is familiar 
to the reader of the * Arabian Nights* Entertainments.' 
He was a contemporary of Charlemagne, and even held 
intercourse with him. Gibbon, speaking of Charle- 
magne (whose reign extended from 768 to 814), says, 
that he a maintained an intercourse with the Caliph 
Haroun al Raschid, whose dominion stretched from 
Africa to India, and accepted from his ambassadors a 
tent, a water-clock, an elephant, and the keys of the 
Holy Sepulchre." 

The caliph was a liberal patron of literature, which 
flourished at his court. One of the most learned men 

of the time was Asmaee, who was in high consideration 
with the caliph, and was the author of many volu- 
minous works. His memory appears to have been 
stored with the traditions and tales of the Arabs, as 
handed down from the "Time of Ignorance," the 
epithet bestowed on the ages preceding Mahommed. 
These he used to relate or recite, to the delight of the 
caliph and the courtiers, though it would appear that 
he drew them out to a length that sometimes ex- 
hausted even the patience of Orientalism. To Asmaee, 
assisted by others, is ascribed the authorship of the 
( Life and Adventures of Antar,' an Arabian Romance, 
which has been for centuries a great favourite in the 
East. It is regarded by Oriental scholars as a work of 
considerable merit, and may be termed an epic poem. 
It is also valuable as affording glimpses of the state of 
society amongst the Arabs before the birth of the 
founder of Mahommedanism. 

An idea of the extent of the work may be gathered 
from the fact, that, when Terrick Hamilton, Esq., the 
Oriental Secretary to the British Embassy at Constan- 
tinople, undertook the translation of * Antar,' it was 
from an abridged copy ; and that, having divided it 
into three parts for publication, the first part, which 
reaches from the birth to the marriage of Antar, oc- 
cupies four octavo volumes. The second part, Mr. 
Hamilton says, includes the period when Antar (who 
was a poet as well as a warrior), suspends his poem at 
Mecca, and also extends his power and authority. The 
third relates his various distant wars and visits to Con- 
stantinople and Europe, and concludes with his death. 

Burckhardt, the eminent traveller, in a letter to Mr. 
Hamilton, gives a proof of the estimation in which the 
Arabs hold ( Antar. 1 When he was reading a portion 
of it to some Arabs, they were in ecstacies of delight, 
but at the same time so enraged at his erroneous pro- 
nunciation, that they actually tore the sheets out of his 
hands. " In Aleppo it is highly valued, particularly 
by the Armenians ; and in coffee-houses it is read aloud 
by some particular person, who keeps a sheet in his 
hand, to which he occasionally refers to refresh his 
memory. It is given to children, who are obliged to 
copy it out, and thus acquire the habit of speaking 
elegantly and correctly ; and it may be attributed to 
this cause that copies of * Antar ' are generally found 
written most execrably ill, and abounding in errors of 
every kind V ' Antar ' is also a favourite in Damascus, 
Bagdad, and Cairo. 

'Antar 1 opens with a brief history of Arabia, or 
rather genealogy of its kings, from Ishmael the son of 
Abraham to the birth of the hero of the work. Queen 
Rohab, a warlike woman, the head of the Arab tribe 
Reeyan, made war on King Jazeemah, of the tribe of 
Abe and Adnan. The queen challenges the -king to 
single combat. " He agreed, and consented, and im- 
mediately he came down to the field, and he was like a 
furious lion ; he galloped and charged before the war- 
riors, and rushed into the scene of blows and thrusts. 
Queen Rohab dashed down on him, mounted on a raven- 
coloured steed, strong-sinewed. She charged with him 
over the plain, till the horsemen were amazed. Then 
they began the storm and bluster, the sport and exertion, 
the give and take, the struggle and the wrestle ; and 
every eye gazed intently on them, and every neck was 
stretched out at them. Just then passed between them 
two matchless spear-thrusts. King Jazeemah's was 
the first, so roused was he by the terrors and calamities 
that threatened him. But when Rohab beheld the 
spear-thrust coming upon her, and that death was in 
it, she bent herself forward till her breast touched the 
horse, and the well-aimed thrust passed without effect. 
She then replaced herself on her saddle, and dashed 
furiously at him and attacked him : she struck him with 
horror, and drove the spear through his chest, and 
• Prefect to ' Antar.' 

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[February 11, 183 

forced out tne point sparkling at his back. He tot- 
tered from his horse, and his senses were annihilated. 
Then the Arabs assailed one another, and the earth 
shook beneath them. Blows fell right and wrong, 
necks were hewn oft, and hoary beards were stained 
with Blood. The struggle was intense; and all the 
Arabs in those valieys were in universal commotion, 
like so many genii." 

An tar's mother was a black woman, of elegant figure, 
and striking appearance. She was taken captive by 
Shedad, who, in turn, being captivated by her, the 
slave becomes his wife. Antar, when a boy, was " black 
and swarthy like an elephant, flat-nosed, blear-eyed, 
harsh- featured, shaggy-haired ;" he was " like the frag- 
ment of a cloud, his ears immensely long, and with eyes 
whence flashed sparks of fire." As he grew up, he 
began to indicate that he was no ordinary youth. In 
his tenth year he knocked down a wolf that sought for 
a morsel among his flocks, and carried its head and legs 
home to his mother, who showed them to his father, 
Shedad, as an evidence of his son's precocity. Other 
daring deeds are related of him during his minority. 

The heroine of the work is Ibla, Antar's cousin. But 
the reader must bear in mind that both Antar's parent- 
age and colour placed him in an equivocal position — 
he was the son of a slave. Ibla " was lovely as the full 
moon, and perfectly beautiful and elegant. She fre- 
quently joked with Antar, and was very familiar with 
him, as he was her servant." Antar, of course, falls in 
love with her, and pours out his tears and his verses as 
a proof of it. "The lovely virgin has struck my heart 
with the arrow of a glance, for which there is no cure. 
* * * She moves — I should say it was the branch 
of the tamarisk that waves its branches to the southern 
breeze. She approaches — I should say it was the 
frightened fawn, when a calamity alarms it in the 
waste. She walks away" — &c. &c. 

But Antar proved, as Shakspeare afterwards said, 
that " the course of true love is not smooth " — at least 
in the hands of the poets. He goes through some ex- 
traordinary adventures, and performs wondrous deeds 
of valour, before he is rendered happy by his marriage 
with Ibla. These occupy the four volumes dited by 
Mr. Hamilton. 

His character, and the spirit which animated him, is 
thus depicted by himself: — 

*' The heights of glory are not attained but at the 
point of the spear, and patience in the day of battle 
through the heaviest difficulties, and the challenge of 
every lion-hero, and long-bearded warrior. Ask my 
horse of me, when flashes of fire fly from his hoofs. I 
have a spear-thrust that deals the most excruciating 
pain, and raises me above all competitors ; and my 
Indian blade cuts through the nocturnal calamities 
whenever I draw it. I am the son of the black-faced 
Zebeeba that tends the camels. I am a slave, but my 
fury oerwhelms the lordly chiefs in the battle. As to 
Death, should I meet him, I will not shrink from him 
when he appears to me — it is a draught I must inevit- 
ably take when the day of my dissolution arrives." 

Antar is thus a genuine knight of chivalry — a warrior 
and a minstrel animated by the love of Ibla, whom 
he apostrophises as the sovereign of his very blood and 
his mistress. But he has to encounter a rival in Ama- 
rah, who sneers at Antar as base-born, and ridicules 
the idea of his aspiring to Ibla's haud. 

Amongst Antar's numerous adventures, he meets 
with a plundering party, the chief of which exclaims, 
" 1 am Sudam, the assailer of warriors; in me is a 
heart harder than mountains. In horror and fear of 
me, even the wild beasts of the waste shrink into the 
obscurity of caverns : and were Death a substance, I 
would steep his right hand in the blood of his left." At 
thw challenge, Antar grasped his spear, he slackened 
the bridle of his steed, and gave a shout that made the 

deserts and the rocks tremble. One of the party ci 
out to him, " State thy descent ; peradventure thy ca 
nexion may protect thee : otherwise deliver up thy her 
and thy armour." Antar's feats of valour astou 
Sudam, who, in the true spirit of chivalry, ex dais 
" Hold, O Arab : tell me what horseman thou art, u 
with what tribe thou art connected ; for thy battle a 
cites my surprise, and thy prowess is most wonderfu 
But Antar would make no concessions, and Sudam i 
slain. The victor then delivers three young ladies, w: 
had been Sudani's prisoners, and is addressed by u* 
mother of the damsels in a glowing strain of eloquesa 

A still more striking resemblance to the customs j 
chivalry, is his undertaking, for the sake of his mistreE 
distant and dangerous adventures. As for insure 
her father requires for her dowry a number of earned 
a peculiar breed, in the possession of a powerful c: 5 
who never parts with any. This dowry Antar uadr 
takes to procure, and achieves partly by stratagem ix 
partly by force. 

The patient submission to the ill-treatment which 
on many occasions, he experiences from his father, 
also a very striking feature in his character, and, to- 
gether with his love, contrasts very beautifully with tis 
barbarous and bloody conflicts, and turbulent ast 
boisterous scenes, which occupy almost entirely tk 
period of his life contained within the four volumes tb: 
have been translated. 

Antar triumphs over all his enemies and his di§- 
culties, and Ibla becomes his wife. During the mar- 
riage festivities a chief named Awtaban comes ajrait& 
him, but his overthrow by Antar was an easy matter, 
and only served to set off the rest of the amusement 
Antar makes a speech, and when he had finished, u the 
heroes and warriors were astonished at his eloquence, 
they retired home, and dividing the horses and thespsi 
amongst the horsemen, they renewed their feasts, aai 
entertainments, and sports at the lake of Zat ul irssd, 
and the purling streams, the slave women ueatiag' tht 
cymbals, and the men flourishing their swords. 

It is certainly not a little remarkable, that in a work 
written upwards of a thousand years ago, we shoukl 
see all the characteristics of the chivalric romance db 
tinctly developed. There are certain coarsenesses in it 
which do not belong to the more polished romances of 
some centuries later, with which the people of Europe 
were delighted. But these roughnesses or brutalities 
indicate the fidelity of the picture, as exhibiting the 
manners of nomade tribes, perpetually at war wits 
each other, almost always on horseback, ever ready for 
the fray or the feast ; spoiling or being spoiled ; and 
upholding their character of having their hand lifted 
up against every man, and every man's hand again** 
them. Indeed, the quality of the romance which throws 
the Arab into ecstacies renders it tedious to us. The 
whole book seems to be in commotion, but the dashing 
onwards, retreating, capturing cattle, plundering tents 
carrying off the females and the youth as slaves, the 
sudden dangers and the sudden deliverances, have & 
sameness, at least, in the English language. But, 
setting aside the picture of manners, we have here the 
deserts of Arabia as a vast tilting- field ; mailed war- 
riors on noble steeds perform feats of valour, and as* 
sailing parties raise their battle cries; Antar, before be 
is acknowledged as a knight, performs the humble 
offices of a squire ; and though he is not portrayed, 
like Spenser's hero in the * Faerie Queen,' as accom- 
plished in the " Twelve Moral Virtues," he yet vows, 
in the outset of his career, to " arm himself against 
worldly lusts, that he may be considered noble-minded 
and faithful." 

%• The Office of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge U at 

59, Lincoln's Inn Fields. 


^Printed, by Wiw-u^Cwnrw »od gov* gteaftwd Siwet. 

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Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. 



[February 18, 1837. 


[ Monument to Andrew Hofer, in the Cathedral-church of the Holy Crow at Innspruck. | are some striking points of similarity in the 
character and fate of William Wallace and of Andrew 
Hofer. The Tyrolean patriot of the nineteenth cen- 
tury had probably never heard of the Scottish hero of 
the thirteenth century ; — yet similar motives impelled 
both to arouse their countrymen to resistance. They 
were both for a time successful, and spread abroad the 
terror of their names, but were ultimately obliged to 
seek their safety in concealment ; — in their distress both 
were treacherously betrayed, and forfeited their lives to 
a stern and revengeful policy, which could not or would 
not appreciate their motives and conduct ; — and both 
left behind them in the memories of their countrymen 
nobler and more enduring monuments than brass or 
marble. Thus, amid all the changes of. time and cir- 
cumstance which alter and colour the course of human 
sction, its source is still the same — the grasping con- 
queror and the daring patriot are still actuated by the 
same impulses. 
Vol. VI, 

In the memoir of Andrew Hofer, introduced into the 
account of Innspruck, given in No. 209 of the * Penny 
Magazine,' it is stated that his body was brought to 
Innspruck, and interred in the Cathedral-church of the 
Holy Cross. "An immense concourse of Tyroleans 
followed to the tomb, over which the Austrians spoke 
of erecting a monument, which, as far as we are in- 
formed, has not yet been executed." This monument 
has been executed. A correspondent, who furnished 
the drawing for the accompanying wood-cut, says, 
" The statue is executed in perfectly white Carrara 
marble, the figure being about eight feet high, exclusive 
of the rough pediment attempted to be represented in 
the drawing, and it stands upon an upright block, or 
parallelogram, of white marble, about eight feet high. 
I will not attempt to add to the description already 
given of the Cathedral-church of the Holy Cross more 
than to observe, that the simple and noble statue 
of Hofer heightens in no small degree the sublime 

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[February 18, 

effect produced upon a visiter to this unrivalled mau- 

The death of Borer's widow was mentioned in the 
newspapers, two or three weeks ago, as having recently 
occurred. She was in her seventy-second year : she had 
lived in retirement with her daughters from the time of 
her husband's execution. 


Administration op Justice — Central 
Criminal Court. 
The mitigation of the severity of the English Criminal 
Law, and the improvement of Prison Discipline, have 
occupied a large share of public attention, especially 
within the last twenty years. Some of the finest intel- 
lects of the age, and some of the most actively-benevo- 
lent, have given their energies and time to the work ; 
and we are now beginning to see fruit from their labours. 
A lesser punishment than that of death has been affixed 
to coining, cattle-stealing, stealing above five pounds 
in a dwelling-house, forgery (with the exception of one 
or two particular kinds), and returning from transpor- 
tation. There is still room for great improvement. 
Burglary, for instance, is still, by law, in all cases a 
capital crime. "To the completion of the offence/' 
say the Commissioners of Criminal Law, " there are 
no other essentials than the breaking of a dwellinc- 
house in the night-time, with intent to steal or commit 
some other felony. Within this definition, extended as 
it has been by construction, are included offences the 
most distant in point of atrocity. A hungry pauper, for 
example, who after it is dark breaks a pane of glass, and 
thrusts a hand through the broken window to seize a 
loaf of bread, is just as liable to suffer death, as oue of 
a gang of ruffians who break into a dwelling-house to 
pillage the inhabitants, and who execute their purpose 
with circumstances of the utmost violence and cruelty." 
The profusion with which human life was wasted, 
and the uselessness of that profusion, are fearfully ex- 
emplified in the annals of the Old Bailey and Newgate. 
Even the exercise of one of the noblest prerogatives of 
the crown, that of extending mercy to the unhappy 
criminals under sentence of death, was regarded by 
them as a game of chance, in which those who suffered 
were merely unlucky. The annual average of persons 
against whom sentence of death was recorded at the 
Old Bailey was upwards of eighty; and the annual 
average of actual executions about thirty — taking a 
period of about two- thirds of a century prior to 1829. 
Now how could king or minister, however anxious to 
temper mercy with justice, and to exercise the royal 
clemency in a spirit of discretion, make, in all cases, a 
proper selection? They had not been present at the 
trials, and they had not seen the persons of the criminals, 
and other cares pressed on their attention. u I have 
been," says Dr. Lushington, " into the gaol at New- 
gate before the order came down for executions to take 
place, when there were thirty-five persons capitally 
convicted; such has been the uncertainty, that the then 
governor of the gaol has pointed out to me as the per- 
sons likely to be executed, certain four or five indi- 
viduals, and that same night came down the order, and 
not one of them was ordered for execution, but other 
four persons." This uncertainty made juries unwilling 
to convict ; and professed thieves knew this, and pre- 
ferred being indicted on a capital charge, because they 
had a better chance of escaping. ** The fate of one set 
of culprits," says Alderman llarmer, " had uo effect even 
on those who were next to be reported ; they played 
at ball, and passed their jokes as if uothinjr was the 
matter." Aud Dr. Lushington tells a story, the au- 
thenticity of which he vouches, which, though on ex- 
aune case, may serve to illustrate the kind of influence 

which these frequent executions had on the public mind. 
" There was a person executed at Newgate for forgery. 
A boy, respectably brought up, passed by, who for the 
first time saw an execution. He went home, and 
that very day he forged upon his master, aud was left 
for execution. He was not executed, because the Or- 
dinary of that time refused to administer the sacrament 
to him, on account of his youth, and that was considered 
a sufficient ground to let him off, though at that period 
the executions for forgery were uniform." 

From 174& to 1817 there were 5727 criminals capi- 
tally convicted in London, and out of that number 1953 
were executed. For the three years ending 1829 the 
executions were sixty-three ; for the three years ending 
1832 they amounted to sixteen ; and in the three years 
ending 1835 they fell down to two. In the last report 
made Dy the Recorder to the King (on January 28th), 
there were nineteen individuals capitally convicted, the 
youngest being stated at twelve years of age, and the 
rest varying from fifteen to twenty-two or twenty-three. 
They were all pardoned as far as the extreme penalty, 
the sentences being, of course, commuted for trans- 

The sessions at the Old Bailey used to be held eight 
times a year. But frequent as these sittings were, they 
were insufficient for such a population as that of Lon- 
dou. There were, besides, anomalies in the jurisdiction 
of the court. A person committing an offence on the 
Middlesex side of the Thames, on being committed to 
Newgate, would have a probability of being tried in 
fkje or six weeks; but ifthe crossed the river, and com- 
mitted the offence at Lambeth or at Greenwich, he 
would be transferred to the Surrey or Kent assizes, and 
might lie in prison five or six months before trial. The 
Middlesex grand juries were assembled at the county 
sessions house in Clerkenwell, and there were frequent 
delays in the finding of the bills of indictment, ami 
sending them up to the Old Bailey. To remedy ilu\>e 
inconveniences, an Act was passed in 1834, establish- 
ing a •* Central Criminal Court." The jurisdiction of 
this court extends to all places within ten miles of 
St. Paul's, and thus, besides Middlesex, runs into three 
counties, Surrey, Kent, and Essex. It has also an 
Admiralty jurisdiction, by which offences committed on 
the high seas can be tried in it. The Lord Mayor, the 
aldermen, the recorder and common serjeant of the cor- 
poration, and the judges of the land, are the judges in 
this court. Its sessions are held once a month at the 
Old Bailey, and the sittings last generally from five to 
six days — sometimes more than a week. 

The stranger who walks up the Old Bailey street will 
easily discern whether the court is sitting or not. The 
straw on the street, to deaden the sound of passing car- 
riages ; the groups of idling, curious, or anxious people 
about the entrances ; the passing in and out of wit- 
nesses (a large proportion of whom are generally police 
officers), and of official personages, will tell him the 
nature of the business which is transacting within. AH 
this outside bustle may impress the visiters mind; he 
wilj naturally say, here is the criminal court of a vast 
population — of a kingdom in the compass of a city — 
and which, besides, has power to try offences committed 
by British seamen on the high seas in any part of the 
globe. He will enter, therefore, in the expectation of 
seeing. all the pomp and circumstance of state; the 
Lord Mayor and aldermen in their robes of office ; the 
sheriffs in their courtly dress; the legal judges sitting 
in all the gravity of their station ; and the inferior offi- 
cers of the court wearing a becoming and appropriate 
solemnity. But then he must recollect that the sittings 
of the court are so frequent as once a month ; that it is 
not a common occurrence that a prisoner is to be tried 
whose character or criuia lias aroused the morbid curio- 
sity of thousands, and gathered hundreds round the 
doors, vainly seeking admission iuto the already crowded 

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court, and envying the functionaries whose official duties 
give them privilege of entrance ; and that the ordinary 
business of the court is of a very common-place, or rather 
of a humbling and melancholy character, having more 
to do with human nature in its meaner displays of 
ignorance and depravity combined, than with human 
nature under the development of those higher displays 
of passion which arrest the attention of mankind. Still, 
out of such a population as is included in the jurisdic- 
tion of the court, cases will be continually arising which 
will afford to the lover of mere exeitement his some- 
what ignoble gratification, and to the thoughtful mind 
a more rational employment. 

There are two court-rooms at the Old Bailey, termed 
the Old and the New Courts, in which, during the 
sessions, the trials are carried on. The Old Court is 
the one in which the Ring's jndges sit, and in which 
all the more serious crimes are tried. When the busi- 
ness is not of such a nature as to require the presence 
of the superior judges, the city judges (Recorder, 
Common Serjeant, &c.) sit in the Old Court, but on 
the arrival of the Ring's judges (one, two, or three of 
whom attend during the greater part of each session) 
they retire to the New Court, and try the lighter kinds 
of offences. During the greater part of the session the 
grand jury are busily occupied in investigating the 
grounds on which accused persons are committed — so 
that in fact* at the Old Bailey, there are three court- 
rooms, in which judicial investigations are going on 
during each monthly sitting of the Central Criminal 

The Old C ourt is an oblong room, nearly square ; 
along one side is ranged the bench, the central seat of 
which is an arm-chair, having a canopy over it, like the 
sounding-board of a pulpit ; under this canopy, on the 
crimson lininjf of the wall, is fixed the sheathed sword 
of justice. To the right of the bench is the jury-box ; 
and facing the bench the dock, the front of which is 
technically termed the bar, into which the prisoners are 
brought. Round a table in the centre of the room sit 
the counsel in their official costume. The accommo- 
dation for an audience in the court is very limited. 

If the stranger has entered on the first day of the 
sitting of the court, he may see the grand jury, preceded 
by an officer bearing a white wand, come in with the 
bills of indictment. There is, perhaps, but a solitary 
judge on the bench, and one or two members of the 
city corporation. The bills of indictment are read ; 
and by and by a batch of prisoners are brought in 
to be arraigned. They come crowding into the dock 
like sheep in a pen ; of the whole twenty that are there, 
perhaps only one has the look and appearance of a man, 
the rest being children from nine years of age to fifteen. 
The indictments are read, charging them with stealing 
such and such articles, valne fourpence, Or a shilling, or 
a pounds as the Case may be, and they are successively 
asked whether or not they are guilty of this or of these 
felonies. They are told that they have the power to 
challenge the jury, but some of the little creatures are 
staring with a half impudent, half wondering air about 
the court, and they do not understand the language that 
is spoken. Then the deep voice of the officer is heard, 
swearing the jury to "well and truly try, and true 
deliverance make, betwixt our sovereign lord the King, 
and the prisoners at the bar, and a true verdict give 
according to the evidence." The repetition of the words, 
w each individual juryman ts sworn, and the kissing 
of the book, make some of the thoughtless prisoners 
raule, ind they are only prevented from laughing out- 
right by awe of the attendant turnkeys and the court. 
Proclamation is made by the crier of the jurisdiction of 
the court, and all prosecutors and witnesses are warned 
la attend and give their evidence, on pain of forfeiting 
their recognizances. There is this advantage in arraign- 
ing a number of prisoners at once, that one swearing of 

the jury serves for all their respective cases. When the 
process of arraignment Is over, they are all taken back, 
except the prisoner or prisoners whose case is first on 
the list ; and then the trials begin. 

44 Every day at the Old Bailey," says Alderman Har- 
mer, " when prisoners are brought up to be arraigned, 
you hear an expression of feeling at seeing several chil- 
dren, whose heads scarcely reach the top of the bar, 
intermixed with the other prisoners: this is a miserable 
exhibition for the audience, and the little urchins are 
the only persons in the court that are unconcerned." 

It is unnecessary to describe minutely the proceed- 
ings on a criminal trial. The forms do not vary in 
London, at least in nothing material, from the mode 
in which criminal law is administered throughout Eng- 
land. At the close of each session, the prisoners are 
brought up to receive their sentences, for sentence is 
not pronounced at the close of each trial. 

" So late as the reign of Henry III.," say the Commis- 
sioners of Criminal Law, " when the fact on a charge 
of felony was doubtful, the trial, in the absence of any 
certain known accuser (that is, where the charge pro- 
ceeded on common fame), was usually by the ordeal. 
When this superstitious custom had been superseded, 
in consequence of a letter from the Pope, in the early 
part of that reign, a doubt Was entertained, as appears 
from Bracton, how any prisoner could be convicted 
When he put himself on the Patria, or jury, for his 
deliverance; the jury themselves (who formerly were 
the witnesses) having no certain and actual knowledge 
of. the fact. To that time, it appears, prisoners could 
not be convicted, nnless the jury themselves had actual 
knowledge of the fact, and the assistance of counsel to 
Speak to the fact, would consequently have been useless. 
It is perhaps to this singular constitution of the ancient 
criminal law that the exclusion of full defence by coun- 
sel in cases of felony is attributable." (This was 
written before the late. change in the law.) "When 
(probably in consequence of the abolition of the ordeal) 
juries from being eye-witnesses of the fact, exercised 
the function of judges of the fact upon the testimony 
of others, and frequently ttpon circumstantial evidence 
only, the assistance of counsel became material and 
essential to the purposes of justice. The continuance 
of the exclusion after the reason had ceased, may be 
referred to other causes. It formed but one of the 
numerous and oppressive disabilities to which prisoners 
for capital offences were formerly, and are, though to a 
less extent, still subjected." By an Act, passed in 1830, 
persons indicted of felony are permitted to make their 
full answer and defence by counsel or attorney. 

The number of persons charged at the police stations 
of London during the year 1834 was 64,269, consisting 
of 41,686 males and 22,583 females. A very great 
proportion of this number consisted of cases of drunk- 
enness, disturbances in the streets, &c. Out of the 
whole number, 3,468 were committed for trial. In 
1835 there were 2,849 tried before the Central Criminal 
Court, which Is an average of 237 to each monthly sit- 
ting. A calculation has been made of the number of 
criminals in Middlesex, as compared with the census of 
1831, which gives a total number of 4,037, or 1 in every 
336. The proportion of males and females in the hun- 
dred of these offenders, h given as seventy-six males 
and twenty-four females. The decrease of crime in 
Middlesex in 1835, as compared with 1834, is stated 
to be 17 per cent. 

The gaols and houses of correction in London are, 
in addition to Newgate, Giltspur Street House of Cor- 
rectionj a few yards from Newgate ; Cold Bath Fields 
House of Correction ; the New Prison, Clerkenwell ; 

I Westminster City Gaol and House of Correction ; Lon- 
don Bridewell ; and the Millbank Penitentiary, on the 
banks of the Thames, near Vauxhall Bridge. 
The prison of the Fleet, the King's Bench Prison, 

Digitized by 




[February 18, 

&c, will be noticed when treating of the administration 
of civil justice, and the jurisdiction of the superior courts. 
Whitecross Street Prison, in the city, for debtors, was 

erected about twenty-two years ago, the debtors impri- 
soned within the city having been previously confined 
in Newgate and Giltspur Street Prison. 


[The Wild Cat.] 

The Felida, or Cat-tribe, form one of the most natural 
and characteristic groups of the class mammalia. From 
the lion or tiger to the domestic cat, all are endowed 
with the same instincts, — the same appetites, — the 
same organic structure. Carnivorous in the extreme, 
they are admirably framed for a life of rapine. t 

The larger of the feline race, the lion, the tiger, the 
leopard, and the panther, are natives of the hotter 
portions of the globe, where life teems to excess, 
and where the larger herbivorous mammalia abound 
upon which they habitually prey. The feline race, 
as a whole, are concentrated in the warmer latitudes, 
— the species being fewer and more widely dispersed as 
we pass from the warm to the temperate or colder 
regions. No country, however, is without its felida, 
— not even the bleak regions of Siberia, or the fur- 
countries of northern Canada ; nor is our own island 
destitute of an indigenous species, — the wild cat (Felis 
cuius, Linn.) That the genuine wild cat of the British 
Islands is specifically distinct from our domestic race, is 
now universally admitted. At the same time, it often 
happens that individuals of our domestic breed betake 
themselves to the woods, or to extensive preserves of 
game, where, finding their supply of food abundant, 
they permanently establish themselves, and lead an 
independent life. Such emancipated individuals as 
these must not be confounded with the genuine wild 
cat, an animal essentially distinct, and an aboriginal of 
our island. We hear it often asserted that the wild 

and tame cat breed together, but there is every reason 
to believe that the wUd cat in this case is one of the 
domestic species, leading an independent life. Such 
have frequently come under our own cognizance ;— we 
have known them haunt coppices and woods in the 
vicinity of farmhouses, and commit extensive ravages 
among the poultry and pigeons. The grounds upon 
which the specific distinction between the domestic cat 
and the wild cat is now admitted, consist in their decided 
difference of general conformation; besides standing 
higher on the limbs, the body of the wild cat is much 
more robust than in the tame ; the tail is shorter, and, 
instead of tapering, terminates somewhat abruptly, 
being even fuller at its extremity than at its base ; it is 
also invariably tipped with black. The lips and soles 
of the feet are also black. In the domestic cat the 
head is moderate and rounded, the body slender, the 
tail long and tapering, the colours variable. Of the 
original introduction of the domestic cat into our island 
we have no information ; but we know that, at an early 
period in England, the domestic cat was highly valued, 
a circumstance strongly corroborative of the specific 
distinction between it and the wild cat, which, though 
now comparatively rare, was formerly, while England 
was but partially cleared of the dense forests which 
once covered it, extremely abundant, insomuch that the 
procuring of young litters could have been of little 
difficulty. While, however, the wild cat was. common, 
the domestic cat was rare, and its price fixed at a high 

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I 837.1 



atio. In the Welch Laws of Hoel the Good, in the 
tinth century, it was established that the price of a 
tit ten before it could see should be one penny; until 
t caught a mouse, twopence ; and when it commenced 
xi o user, fourpence. If we consider the value of the 
>enny in the ninth century, we shall find that none but 
whose in comfortable circumstances could afford. to buy 
a. cat. It was also ordained that the person who had 
stolen the cat kept to guard the king's granary, " was 
to forfeit a milch ewe, its fleece and lamb ; or as much 
wheat as, when poured on the cat, suspended by the 
tail, the head touching the floor, would form a heap 
hig»h enough to cover the tip of the former. 1 ' 

The origin of our domestic cat is attributed by M. 
Tern mi nek to a species indigenous in Nubia, Abyssinia, 
and Northern Africa, and known under the scientific 
name of Felis maniculala. However this may be, the 
domestic cat was among the sacred animals of the 
Egyptians ; it was kept in their temples, is figured on 
the remains of Egyptian monuments, and its mummies 
are found in the tombs, — circumstances leading to a 
plausible hypothesis that its first domestication is to be 
attributed to that people, and that it is an aboriginal of 
the country adjacent to Egypt, or of Egypt itself. 

The wild cat, thus established as distinct from the 
tame breed, is found throughout the whole of Europe, 
wherever extensive woods afford it an asylum : it is 
common in the forests of Germany, Hungary, Russia, 
and the western parts of Asia ; and, though scarce, is 
not extirpated in the British islands. Its chief strong- 
holds are among the mountains of Scotland, of the 
northern counties of England, and of Wales and Ire- 
land, the larger woods being its place of resort, and of 
concealment by day. Here it lurks on the branches of 
large trees, in the hollows of decayed trunks, and in the 
clefts and holes of rocks, issuing forth at night to seek 
its prey; on hares, rabbits, grouse, partridges, and all 
kind of game, it commits sad havoc, and the feathers of 
its victims, scattered about, often betray its presence in 
the neighbourhood, and rouse the indignation of the 
gamekeeper, who lets pass no opportunity of destroying 
such noxious " vermin." Young lambs and fawns are by 
no means safe from its attack ; indeed of all our native 
beasts of prey, at present living within the precincts of 
our island, it is the fiercest and most destructive. Pen- 
nant calls it the " British tiger,'* and if it has not the 
strength and size of the tiger it has all its ferocity. The 
destruction of the wild cat is not altogether destitute of 
danger ; for when hard pressed, or enraged by a wound 
too slight to disable it, it darts fiercely on its opponent, 
aiming chiefly at the face and eyes, and using both 
claws and teeth with vindictive fury ; it clings on to the 
last, tearing and rending until fairly dispatched, its 
assailant bea/ing severe marks of the fray. 

The size to which this species attains is sometimes 
very great. Bewick says that he recollects one killed 
in the county of Cumberland which measured* from the 
nose to the end of the tail, upwards of five feet. For 
ourselves we have never seen an individual of such 
dimensions, and are inclined to suspect a mistake: the 
males, which exceed the females, are seldom more than 
three feet in length, of which the tail occupies about a 
third. An enraged cat of even these dimensions is no 
trifling antagonist ; like all the smaller /e/ute, however, 
the present species shuns the face of man, and does not 
willingly hazard an encounter. The female pertina- 
ciously defends her young, and while she is engaged 
with her progeny it is not very safe to disturb her in 
her retreat : she usually produces four or five at a birth, 
making a bed for them in. a hollow tree or the fissure 
of a rock, and sometimes she even usurps the nest of a 
large bird in which to rear her young. 

The fur of the wild cat is full and deep ; on the face 
it is of a yellowish grey colour, passing into greyish 
brown on the head ; several interrupted black stripes 

extend from the forehead, and pass between the ears to 
the occiput ; the general colour of the body is dark grey, 
a dusky black stripe running down the spine, while 
beautiful transverse wavings of an obscure blackish 
brown adorn the sides ; the tail is ringed with the same 
tint, except at the tip which is black. 

Fine specimens of the male and female wild cat, 
killed in Scotland, are in the museum of the Zoologi- 
cal Society ; as is also a specimen of the felis mani- 
culata % the alleged origin of our domestic breed. A 
comparison of these species together is one of much 
interest. We may here add, that we have seen no cor- 
rect drawing of the felis maniculata, though several 
have beeu published. 

The search after food is an instinct of our nature which 
the rudest savage must uecessarily obey ; but a con- 
siderable time must elapse from the first faint dawning 
of civilization ere the occupation of the fisherman, for 
instance, becomes unconnected with any other. The 
division is effected gradually, and can only be com- 
pleted in a highly improved condition of society. It is 
therefore difficult to trace the history of the herring- 
fishery from a very early period to the state in which 
it existed in the sixteenth century; but it may be 
conceived as constantly growing into importance in 
proportion as men devoted themselves to settled pur- 
suits, and left off piracy by sea and marauding by land. 
Duhamel quotes a charter of William the Conqueror, 
from which it appears that, in the eleventh century, 
vessels from Dieppe, called "grands drogueurs," went 
to the north in July to fish for herrings, and that 
they brought them home salted in barrels. In 1265, 
according to Selden, the Dutch obtained permission 
from Edward I. to fish at Yarmouth. The Dutch 
are believed to have been indebted for their superior 
method of preparing herrings to William Beuckel, or 
Beukels, a native of Biervliet, in Flanders. He pro- 
bably discovered an improved mode of curing, Which 
enabled the Dutch to introduce their herrings as an 
article of foreign commerce. The subsequent import- 
ance of this trade thus originated in the intelligent 
manner in which a poor but industrious fisherman 
applied his talents. In 1536, Charles V., accompanied 
by his sister, the Queen of Hungary, paid a visit to the 
tomb of Beukels, thus offering a noble tribute of respect 
to a man who had so essentially benefited his species. 
The Dutch herrings soon became highly esteemed in all 
the European markets, and a great source of profit to 
those engaged in the trade : there is a popular saying in 
Holland, that " The foundation of Amsterdam is laid on 
herring-bones," alluding to the staple trade of the 
country in the same metaphorical sense that Old 
London Bridge was said to have been built upon wool- 
packs. The herring-fishery was considered as the 
right arm of the republic, and under the St ad t holders 
it was always entitled the u Grand Fishery." Public 
prayers were occasionally offered up for its prosperity. 
In 1560 a thousand vessels were directly engaged in 
the herring-fishery; in 1610 there were 1500; and ten 
years after 2000 vessels were employed. When the 
herring-fishery was in the height of its prosperity, the 
total number of vessels which it employed, including 
those engaged in importing salt, in conveying it to 
fishing ships, in returning with cured fish, and in the 
exportation of that fish to foreign markets, was 6400; 
and the number of mariners and fishermen engaged in 
the trade was 112,000. Holland at that time pos- 
sessed 10,000 sail of shipping, and 168,000 mariners. 
The Pensionary De Witt said that every fifth person 
earned his subsistence by the fisheries, or about 450,000 
individuals in all, the total population being 2,400,000. 
As the number of persons, aged between 18 and 56 

Digitized by 




[February 18, 

comprised in this population would amount to one* 
fourth, or 600,000, one-half of whom would be females, 
the estimate given by De Witt has generally been con- 
sidered as exaggerated : but when it is considered that 
there was scarcely a servant, male or female, in the 
fishing towns, who had hot a share in some buss, and 
that when a man could not build a buss, he collected 
money for the purpose among his friends, the proba- 
bility is that De Witt's calculation was to a great extent 
correct, and that the large proportion of individuals 
which he mentions did gain, if not their whole, a por- 
tion of their subsistence from the fishery. 

The extraordinary development of industry in Hol- 
land may be regarded as a striking proof of the in- 
fluence exercised by position and local circumstances. 
Had the soil yielded an abundant increase, the inha- 
bitants would never have sought the means of subsist- 
ence amidst the dangers of the seas. The energies of 
man have generally been most advantageously em- 
ployed when directed by necessity, provided that the 
real objects of labour are attained in the shape of addi- 
tional comforts and enjoyments. Holland could not 
have existed but for the embankments which the inha- 
bitants raised with so much industry as a protection 
from the ravages of the sea. The physical existence of 
their country was founded upon industry, and hence its 
advantages were understood at an early period; and 
both the navy and commerce of Holland excited the 
envy of other countries, which did not comprehend so 
well the arts which make a nation rich. It was na- 
tural that a people in this condition should be more 
successful in the fisheries than any other, because it 
was more necessary to their prosperity than it could be 
to countries whose resources were more various. The 
navy of Holland was a formidable rival to our own 
maritime force; its 10,000 sail of commercial shipping 
and 168,000 mariners far exceeded our own mercantile 
marine, and yet, as De Witt remarks of his country and 
its shipping, it afforded them " neither materials, nor vic- 
tual, nor merchandise, to be accounted of towards their 
setting forth." Foreign commerce was of vital import- 
ance to such a nation, and De Witt points out the 
sources of its riches. " The manufacturers," he says, 
" live chiefly upon herrings; manufactures employ the 
merchants, merchants promote commerce, and com- 
merce and fisheries are the sources of navigation and 
naval power, which are the principal supports of a mari- 
time state." Sir Walter Raleigh estimated the annual 
value of the Dutch fisheries at 10,000,000/., but this cal- 
culation was much too high. It was, however, believed 
at the time to be correct ; and it became a source of 
regret and irritation to the English nation that this 
harvest should be obtained on* its coasts, white those 
who had a more peculiar right to derive a profit from 
the fishery reaped comparatively few advantages. Not 
only was Holland destitute of many productions which 
must necessarily be obtained by foreign commerce, but 
her coasts did not abound with the fish from which the 
country derived its chief wealth. From Shetland to 
the coast of Sussex the British shores were covered with 
the Dutch herring-busses, which carried on the fishery 
at a distance of from 50 to 950 leagues from their Own 
ports. Until the reign of James I. the Dutch were not 
permitted to fish on the English coast without licence; 
but afterwards, so far from asking leave, they were fre- 
quently in the habit of interfering with the English 
fishermen, and would not allow them to pursue their 
avocations in quietness. Great efforts were made from 
time to time to participate in the advantages of the 
herring-fishery, and it was thought disgraceful that 
England should allow its rivals in commerce and naval 
supremacy to be enriched with the treasures with which 
our coasts abounded. The following is a brief notice 
of these attempts :— 

In the reign of Queen Elizabeth, in 1680, the sum 

of 80,000/. was raised for establishing a British fishery. 
In 1615 the same sum was raised by a joint-stock 
company. In 1632, tinder the sanction of Charles I., a 
royal fishing company was established. In 1660 Par- 
liament remitted the duty on salt employed in caring 
fish, and exempted all the materials used in the fisheries 
from customs and excise. In 1677 the Duke of York 
and others were incorporated into a body, entitled the 
M Company of the Royal Fishery of England." This 
company expended its capital in fitting out busses built 
in Holland and manned with Dutchmen, which were 
seized by the French in the war which Shortly after- 
wards ensued. In 17 IS a proposal was made for raising 
180,000/. on annuities, for the purpose of establishing a 
fishing company. In 1749 the subject of establishing 
the British fisheries on a large scale was recommended 
in the speech from the throne on the opening of Par- 
liament. A bill was prepared by General Oglethorpe, 
which received the royal assent in 1750. Tindal, in his 
' History of England/ says, "It is incredible with what 
ardour the news of this bill passing was received by the 
public. It had been patronized and promoted by men 
of the greatest property and popularity in the king- 
dom, and Admiral Vernon made a voyage to Holland 
on purpose to make himself master of the manner of 
their carrying on the fisheries and curing their fish." 
The sum of 500,000/. was subscribed, and a body was 
incorporated under the title of the " Society for the 
True British Fishery." The Prince of Wales was 
chosen governor, and thirty gentlemen, nearly all of 
whom were members of Parliament, were appointed as 
the council of this society. A bounty of 30*. per ton 
was allowed, and paid out of the Customs, to all new 
vessels from twenty to twenty-eight tons burden, which 
should be purposely built for employment in the fishery; 
and the sum of 3/. 10*. was paid to the proprietors, for 
fourteen years, for every 100/. which was actually eu> 
ployed in the fisheries. In addition to the London com- 
pany, fishing chambers were established in such of the 
outports as subscribed 10,000/., to be managed at their 
own risk, and for their own profit and loss. All the 
advantages which were held out to the London com- 
pany were given to the smaller provincial companies. 
The nets were made at Poplar on the Dutch pattern, 
and for some time upwards of 2000 persons were em- 
ployed in this occupation. In 1759 the bounty was 
increased to 50*. per ton. In a few years not a vestige 
remained to indicate that such a society had existed. 
Its failure was complete. In 17S6 a new corporation 
was established, which was entitled the " British Society 
for extending the Fisheries, and improving the Sea- 
Coasts of the Kingdom." In 1808 commissioners were 
appointed for superintending the British fisheries and 
distributing the bounties, and who were directed to 
prepare every year a report of the state of the fisheries. 
The abolition of the bounty took place in 1830. The 
bounty of 2*. &d. per barrel on herrings exported ceased 
in 1826, and in that year the reduction of the bounty of 
4*. on every barrel cured commenced ; and being con- 
tinued at the rate of 1*. each year, ceased in 1830. 
Mr. M'Culloch estimated that the bounty was equal io 
half the value of the herrings as sold by the fisherman, 
and to one-fonrth of their value as sold by the curer. 
The average price of a barrel of cured herrings is taken 
at 16*« — via., 8*. to the fisherman and 8*. to the curer, 
for barrel, salt, and labour. 

It may seem extraordinary that, in spite of the efforts 
which were made to promote the prosperity of the 
British Fisheries, the best-lntentioned plans failed. 
The bounty system, which was at one period insisted 
upon as the main dependence for success, has bee a 
relinquished, and the prosperity or decline of the fishery 
now depends on its own intrinsic value. The objects 
of the plans to which allusion has been made were, in 
the first placej the creation of * nursery for eeattfenj 
Digitized by VjOOQIC 




ami the increase of our naval power, which was warmly 
regarded and highly popular with all classes of the 
people ; and the next was the increase of the supply 
of food. Neither of these ends were attained by the 
system pursued, while there is every probability that 
the present course, which leaves the industry of the 
fisherman to depend, like every other, upon its public 
Utility, will really attain both objects. When the con- 
sumption of fish in Lent and on fast-days was no longer 
considered a religious duty, a great diminution in the 
demand for this species of food took place. Several 
Acts were passed to encourage the consumption of fish 
as a patriotic duty ; and at another opportunity these 
enactments will be more particularly explained. The 
decay of fishing- towns it was feared would lead to a 
diminution of our naval power ; and hence the suc- 
cessive attempts to stimulate the prosperity of the 
fisheries. Davenaut remarked, about the year 1690, 
that, " for the last hundred years, wealth did flow in so 
fast upon us, that we had no occasion to be more in- 
dustrious ;" and he gives this as an excuse why we had 
not attempted to enrich ourselves with the treasures of 
our seas. The true meaning of his remark appears to 
be, that we were already so profitably employed, that it 
would better answer our purpose to buy fish caught for 
us than to be at the cost and trouble of fitting out 
vessels to catch it ourselves. In 1750, when the great 
" Society for the True British Fishery" was established, 
our exports did not amount to 20,000,000. The quan- 
tity of our surplus manufacturing produce was very 
trifling. The cotton manufacture was unknown, and 
it was not foreseen that, .in the present day, the exports 
of cotton goods alone would exceed the total value of 
the exports of all kinds at that period. The sea thus 
came to be regarded as a mine of wealth, because all 
the grand economic means of creating riches arising 
fronT improved machinery and a more perfect appli- 
cation of capital and labour remained comparatively 
unknown, or were not extensively employed. It was 
therefore determined to embark in the fishery, and to 
realize the golden visions which had enchanted all 
classes of the people. 

The encouragement of the fishery by means of a 
bounty was the great error of the various attempts 
to extend the British fisheries. Nothing is more dan- 
gerous than the attempt to regulate the supply and 
demand of any object. Such a proceeding is sure to 
derange the action of both, to throw them out of their 
proper course, and to stimulate one when both ought 
to be in accordance, or alternately to raise the one and 
depress the other ; and all these evils are the result of 
a course which is more expensive than any other. 
Adam Smith has shown, In his excellent chapter on 
c Bounties,' that every barrel pf buss-caught herrings, 
cured with Scotch salt, when exported, cost Government 
17*. llfrf. ; and that every barrel cured with foreign 
salt, when exported, cost Government 1/. 7*. 51tf. ; 
and when entered for home-consumption, 1/. 3*. 9ld. 
The price of a barrel of good herrings averaged 
about a guinea. The futility of the tonnage bounty 
on the white-herring fishery is clearly exhibited in the 
* Wealth of Nations.' The author says — •• It is pro- 
portioned to the burden of the ship, not to her dili- 
gence or success in the fishery ; and it has, I am afraid, 
been too common for vessels to fit out for the sole pur- 
pose of catching, not the fish, but the bounty. In the 
year 1759, when the bounty was at 2/. I Of. the ton, 
the whole buss-fishery of Scotland brought in only four 
barrels of "sea-sticks*." In that year each barrel of 
sea-sticks cost Government in bounties alone 113/. 15*. ; 
each barrel of merchantable herrings, 159/. 7*. 6d. 
The buss-fishery ruined the boat-fishery, on which 
there was no bounty ; and thus the inhabitants on the 
coast were deprived of their usual abuudance of cheap 
* Herrings caught aud cured at sea, 

food, as all fresh herrings were purchased for curing. 
So far was the fishery from being a source of profit to 
the parties engaged in it, that the bounty, according to 
Smith (and it is easy to foresee that such would be the 
result), had the effect of encouraging " rash under- 
takers to adventure in a business which they do not 
understand ; and what they lose by their own negli- 
gence and ignorance more than compensates all that 
they can gain by the utmost liberality of Government." 
We find, from statements by other writers, that one 
principal object of the revival of the fisheries had not 
been at all promoted, as the individuals who engaged 
for a few weeks in the fishery for the purpose of obtain- 
ing the bounty, left it as soon as the season was over ; 
and the numbers of these intruders injured the men 
who had really been brought up to the sea, and ren- 
dered their livelihood more precarious. The export 
bounty of 2*. 8rf. per barrel did not tend to augment 
the quantity or reduce the price of food. With all the 
aid which bounties could furnish, the herring-fishery 
was never in a state of permanent prosperity. While 
the markets in the Mediterranean were becoming less 
accessible, those engaged in the fishery still cried out 
for the bounty ; and on the bounty system the fishing 
would have been equally prosperous had there been no 
markets either at home or abroad ; and yet it is not 
more than twelve years since the export bounty was 
abolished, and it is only seven years since the abolition 
of the general bounty of 4*. per barrel took place. 

The expectation of rivalling the Dutch in their mode 
of curing herrings, and of obtaining the preference in 
the markets for British herrings, could not well be 
realized under the bounty system, which counteracted 
the effects of a limited sale, and did not stimulate the 
curer to seek a larger field of demand by the production 
of a superior article. The celebrity which the Dutch 
acquired appears to have been well deserved. The care 
and attention whicl^ they employed in every process 
connected with the taking and curing of the fish was 
enforced by strict regulations. They understood all 
the advantages connected with moderation in prices 
and excellence of commodity ; and the monopoly which 
they enjoyed was not founded upon any unjust or ex- 
clusive privileges. The general superiority of the Dutch 
herrings appears to have been incontestable ; but during 
the herring mania of the last century we were very re- 
luctant to admit the fact. In the debate on the British 
Fishery Bill, in the House of Lords, in 1750, Earl 
Granville said he had tried experiments with a view of 
ascertaining which were the best herrings both for 
keeping and eating, and he found that the British were 
superior to the Dutch. His lordship, after relating 
the experiments which he had tried while he had been 
ambassador at Stockholm, with a view to determine 
the point, mentioned the following case : — " I had 
(he said) a good many years ago a present of some 
Scottish herrings sent me by the late Earl of Eglintoun. 
Upon trial every gentleman agreed that they were most 
exquisite both for taste and flavour, and far exceeding 
any Dutch herrings they had ever tasted; yet they were 
despised by the country-people; even my own servants 
could hardly be induced to taste them." He proposed, 
in order to render them a fashionable dish, that they 
should be served up at the tables of the great ; and that 
small quantities of the best kind should be sent to our 
ministers at foreign courts, and to our merchants and 
factors who reside in foreign countries. The attempt 
to render fish a common article of diet, has however 
entirely failed in this country. Although the average 
price of all the fish brought to Billingsgate market 
does not exceed 2id. per lb., yet meat, which is more 
than double the price, is preferred. Fish is chiefs 
consumed by those who are in extreme poverty and I 
the rich ; and does not enter largely into ihe common 
I diet of the middle classes, who are in a condition to 

Digitized by 




[February 18, 1837. 

obtain more expensive food, which they prefer. The 
poor of Ireland and the negroes of the West Indies are 
the chief consumers of cured herrings ; and they are 
used by them rather as a condiment to give a relish to 
vegetables, which would otherwise be tasteless. In 
countries where salt is heavily taxed, perhaps the most 
serviceable condiment which the poor can use, consists 
of cured herrings. The British Herring Fishery de- 
pends for its prosperity upon quantity rather than qua- 
lity ; the Dutch upon the excellence rather than the 
abundance of the fishery. Of the cured herrings which 
we exported in 1834, about 60,000 barrels were to the 
West Indies; 23,403 to Italy and the Italian Isles; 
20,234 to Prussia ; 14,571 to Germany ; 1588 to Gibral- 
tar ; and 513 barrels to the East Indies. The market 
abroad seems far less extensive than it might be if no 
impediments were offered by heavy duties. The con- 
sumption in Spain and Portugal, in the East Indies 
and in Italy, might be rendered much greater. At 
Naples the duty amounts almost to a prohibition, being 
16«. a barrel, and the freight and commission is about 
10s. 3 id. It is supposed that if the duty were at all 
reasonable, the consumption would amount to 10,000 or 
12,000 barrels a year. At Palermo the duty is 12*. 

The British Herring Fishery may be considered, on 
the whole, as in a tolerably satisfactory state. The 
withdrawal of the bounty, so far from having injured it, 
has had a contrary effect ; and the demand and supply 
being left to regulate each other, those who arc en- 
gaged in the fishery are certain of a market, and are 
not induced to venture their capital upon grounds 
which may prove merely temporary. In 1818, the 
Commissioners of the British Fisheries stated, in their 
annual report, that " the fishermen have, in many cases, 
been enabled, by the produce of their industry, to re- 
place the small boats formerly used, by new boats of 
much larger dimensions, and to provide themselves with 
fishing materials of superior value. The number of 
boats and of fishermen has been greatly, increased, 
while, by the general introduction of the practice of 
gutting, a valuable source of employment has been 
opened to thousands of poor people, who now annually 
resort to the coast during the continuance of the fish- 
ing-season, and there earn a decent livelihood in the 
operations of gutting and packing. New dwelling- 
houses and buildings, of a superior construction, for 
the curing and storing of the herrings, are erecting at 
almost every station along the coast ; while the demand 
for home wood, for the manufacture of barrels, affords 
a source of profit and employment to numbers of people 
in the most inland parts of the country.*' The cha- 
racter of British cured herrings was at that time rising 
both at home and abroad ; and a number of fish- 
merchants of Hamburgh had attested this fact in a 
memorial. It is satisfactory to find that the fishery has 
been constantly progressive for the last few years. In 
1834 the number of barrels of cured herrings prepared 
was 451,531, being the largest quantity yet cured in a 
single year, and exceeding by upwards of 100,000 
barrels the quantity cured when a bounty of 4«. per 
barrel was allowed. In 1834 the exports amounted to 
272,093 barrels, which is also the largest quantity 
exported in any single year, and nearly double the 
quantity exported when a bounty of 2*. 8rf. per barrel 
was paid on every barrel of cured herrings sent to 
foreign countries. These facts are not calculated to 
bring the bounty system into favour again. 

The increase in the herring-fishery is chiefly in Scot- 
land, where, for many years, it was for the most part 
confined to the coasts of Caithness and Sutherland ; 
but about 1815 the herring-fishery was established on 
the coasts of Aberdeenshire, Banffshire, Morayshire, and 
Ross-shire. The herrings on this part of the coast are 
prepared for the West Indian, Irish and German mar- 
kets, and the withdrawal of the bounty has not di- 

minished the activity of the fishermen. Between one- 
third and one-fourth of the herrings cured in Scotland 
were prepared at Wick, according to the returns of 
1834; 58,275 barrels at Fraserburgh ; 36,855 in Shet- 
land ; 34,712 at Lybster ; 27,432 at Helmsdale ; 20,561 
at Rothsay ; 19,956 at Banff; 13,700 in the Orkneys, 
and not more than 5238 in the Isle of Man. In 1798 
there were 80 boats employed in the Yarmouth fishery, 
viz., from Lowestoff 24 ; Yarmouth 16 ; and York- 
shire 40. In 1833 Mr. Thomas Hammond, of Yar- 
mouth, stated before a Committee of the House of 
Commons, that the number of boats was then 100 sail, 
and that during the herring-fishery between 40 and 50 
sail were engaged from Yorkshire. The average burden 
of these vessels was from 40 to 50 tons ; and including 
the cost of supplying the Yorkshire boats with nets, it 
was estimated that a capital of about 250,000£. was 
employed. Yarmouth owes its existence to the herring- 
fishery, and a herring fair was held there at a very 
remote period. This fair was regulated in the reign of 
Edward III. by a statute called " the Statute of Her- 
rings." Vessels coming from any part of England 
may fish upon the coast, and bring their herrings into 
Yarmouth without paying any dues or toll. In 1826, 
exclusively of the vessels and mariners employed in the 
deep-sea herring, cod and ling fisheries, 10,365 boats, 
manned by upwards of 44,000 fishermen, were engaged 
in the shore-curing department of the herring-fishery 
at the various stations in Scotland and England. The 
number of other persons to whom this department of 
industry gave employment exceeded 31,000, making 
together a total of 75,041 individuals. The total quan- 
tity of herrings cured in the above year was 379,233 
barrels. In 1834 the number of barrels cured had 
been increased one-fourth, and employment was given 
to 82,226 persons, viz., 49,212 fishermen and boys, who 
manned 11,284 boats; 1925 coopers; 23,972 men, 
women, and children, in gutting, packing, re-packing, 
and clearing and drying the fish; 7157 labourers, 
besides 1831 curers, by whose capital the fishery is 
carried on. In 1826 the number of barrels cured at 
sea was under 40,000 ; in 1834 the number was 
56,615. The quantity of netting exceeds 1,000,000 
square yards. When the herring-fishery terminates, 
most of these individuals, both fishermen and others, 
are engaged in the cod, ling, and other fisheries. The 
above accounts, though taken from official documents, 
cannot be implicitly relied on, as there is no legislative 
enactment compelling the boats to be entered ; and 
probably the numbers may be under-stated. The her- 
ring-fishery on the coast of Ireland was formerly con- 
siderable, but it has declined from a variety of causes, 
one of which is, that the fish do not resort to the coast 
so much, and the fishermen are unable to fit out proper 
boats to go out to sea. The general state of the Irish 
fisheries will be more conveniently noticed at another 

[It is the intention of the Society for the Diffusion of 
Useful Knowledge to prepare a Manual for the Establish- 
ment and Conduct of Mechanics' Institutions, Workmen's 
Reading Rooms, and similar Establishments ; and in order 
to assist them in this task the Committee have obtained 
from nearly Fifty Towns returns of the Institutions existing 
in them, their Rules and Reports, a Catalogue of their 
Books and Apparatus, and a Statement of the Number of 
Members attending them, and of the Lectures and Classes. 
The Committee would be glad to obtain similar information 
from those places which have not already been good enough 
to transmit it ; and in the Catalogues of Books they would 
be glad to have those indicated which are the most read.] 

%• The Office of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge is at 

59, Lincoln's Inn Fields. 


Printed by William Clowes and Sons, Stamford Street. 

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Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. 



[February 25, 1837. 

The Law Courts. 

[Old Palace Yard, Westminster Hall, and the Courts of Law.] 

The law-courts are somewhat scattered about London* 
The superior courts of common law and equity are in- 
deed to be found together at Westminster Hall ; and 
their vicinity to the houses of the legislature, as well 
as the hall itself, gives them a fitting air of propriety 
and even of dignity. But, on the other hand, if the 
attraction of a licence or a legacy induces the stranger 
to inquire for the ecclesiastical courts, he must literally 
starch for Doctor*' Commons. Both Westminster Hall 
and Doctors' Commons are in the neighbourhood of 
our two great ecclesiastical edifices — the Abbey and St. 
Paul's. But even when the stranger is in St. Paul's 
churchyard, he must ask for Doctors' Commons ! He 
must seek for it in those narrow streets that run down 
the slope of the hill on which stands the mighty pile — 
too near us, hemmed in, and clustered round, to make 
us feel sufficiently the influence of masses of stone 
heaped together by the hand of genius. Then the 
Court of Bankruptcy must be sought for in Basinghall 
Street in the " city," and the Court for the Relief of 
Insolvents in Portugal Street, Lincoln's Inn Fields. 
The Courts of Requests — courts which can give sum- 
mary relief in civil actions for small amount — are, 
properly enough, distributed in different parts of Lon- 
don. These courts are interesting places — the vast 
number of cases perpetually arising in such a popula- 
tion as that of London fills them with business ; and 
not unfrequently, when the newspapers are not crowded 
with graver matters, the reader must have stpiled or 
Vol. VI 

laughed outright at the grotesque groupings of character 
which reports of cases in these courts have presented. 
The Marshalsea and Palace Courts are in Scotland 
Yard, near Charing Cross. These courts have juris- 
diction over all personal actions arising within the 
verge of the palace— that is, within twelve miles of 
Whitehall, excepting the u city " of London. 

If we were to value Westminster Hall * merely from 
the historical facts which are associated with it, these 
alone would excite a strong feeling of gratification that 
this venerable building was spared by the tire which 
consumed the adjoining Houses of Parliament. Under- 
neath this magnificent roof has been the homestead and 
resting-place of English law for many centuries ; — here 
a long line of monarchs have held their coronation- 
feasts — one was here deprived of his crown, and. an- 
other been adjudged to the scaffold. Some of the most 
interesting of the state-trials in our annals, both in 
ancient and modern times, have been held here — trials 
peculiarly remarkable from the rank and character of 
the individuals whose fate they involved, and from the 
great national interests depending on their issues. 
Here, before the " Court of the Lord High Steward 

* Three different views of the exterior of Westminster Hall, 
and a historical description of it, are given in the first volume of 
the ' Penny Magazine. The view which accompanies the present 
article represents what is known by the name of " Palace-Sard," 
being the site of Westminster Hall, the Law Courts, and the 
Huuses of Parliament, 

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[Pwww S0, 

of England," — the highest criminal judicature in the 
realm, being in fact the House of Lords, during the 
recess of Parliament, formed into a court of justice, 
assisted by the judges of the Und — was arraigned the 
fourth Duke of Norfolk, on the charge of attempting 
to marry the Queen of Scots, and trying to overthrow 
the power of Elizabeth ; and here also was tried one of 
the most prominent men of the Elizabethan era, the 
gallant, accomplished, but rash Earl of Essex. 'Later 
times have witnessed it the scene of that extraordinary 
event, the trial of Warren Hastings, and, still more 
recently, that of Lord Melville. 

But it is not alone from considerations connected 
with the past that Westminster Hall it an object of 
interest. Here is the head and fountain of those ju- 
dicial institutions under which England has shot up to 
greatness ; — institutions planned at a distant time, by 
a rude people, under widely-different circumstances 
from those in which we live ; — institutions which ad- 
minister laws full of apparent anomalies, but which 
have furnished the form and pattern of judicial institu- 
tions now incorporated with the habits and feelings of 
millions of people in some of the fairest parts of the 
globe. English forms of law and judicial administra- 
tion pretail throughout a great nation, whose dominion 
is stretching from the Atlantic to the Pacific Oceans— 
they are to be found in our colonies in every latitude — 
they are taking root in the empire rising in the southern 
seas. Can we lightly estimate the effect of such an 
influence on the whole family of man? Could our 
Saxon and Norman ancestors nave foreseen that what 
they adapted merely to the exigencies of their own 
times would have been the germ of such a fruitful tree ? 

What a motley appearance the Hall must have pre- 
sented when it was fitted up with booths, in some of 
which law was administered, in others books and in 
others articles oi dress were sold ! II is now a spacious 
paved promenade, where suitors, visitors, and counsel 
may be seen, during the sittings of the courts, pacing 
up and down, discussing the politics of the day, or the 
points of some law case. It is for many, as the French 
term a similar scene, la udk des pas perdus, the hall of 
lost footsteps. The courts occupy a range of building 
which has been raised on the north side of the Hail, 
giving both the appearance of being one structure. 
There are private entrances for the judges, by a series 
of doors opening from the street, but the public en- 
trances into the courts are from the interior of the Hall. 

The first three courts as we enter the Hall are, the 
King's Bench, the Common Pleas, and the Exchequer. 
These courts issued out of one, and, in the lapse of 
time, they have come to be, for nearly all practical 
intents and purposes, one court again. The King's 
Bench, indeed, retains a portion of its ancient supe- 
riority in its jurisdiction over all inferior tribunals — it 
can bring a criminal from any inferior court in England 
into its own, and there deal with him as law and justice 
may demand. In the Exchequer also — the judges of 
which are termed Barons, and the chief the Lord Chief 
Baron — all revenue cases are still tried ; but the great 
mass of all civil suits may be brought indiscriminately 
into any of the three courts, and the fifteen judges (until 
1830 they were only twelve) are the head expounders 
and administrators of the statute and common law, 
dispensing it in their courts at Westminster Hall, and 
over the entire kingdom in their circuits. 

There are four terms in each year during which the 
courts are open at Westminster Hall. These are Hilary, 
Easter, Trinity, and Michaelmas terms — the time and 
duration of which the reader will find by referring to 
an almanac. The three courts — King's Bench, Com- 
mon Pleas, and Exchequer — determine questions of 
law during term time. The sittings after term are 
generally employed in deciding causes before special 

and common juries. The "eity'' of London has the 
privilege of having its nisi prius, or jury, cases tried at 

The " High Court of Chancery" is divided into three 
courts— the court of the Lord Chancellor, the court of 
the Master of the Rolls, and the court of the Vice- 
Chancellor. " The special interference of the king, as 
the fountain of justice, was frequently sought against 
the decisions of the courts of law, where they worked 
injustice ; and also in matters which were not cogniza- 
ble in the ordinary courts, or in which, from the main- 
tenance or protection afforded to his adversary, the 
petitioner was unable to obtain redress. The jurisdic- 
tion with which the Chancellor is invested had its origin 
in this portion of discretionary power, which was re- 
tained by the king on the establishment of courts of 
justice. The exercise of those powers in modern times 
is scarcely, if at all, less circumscribed and hemmed in 
by rule and precedent than the strict jurisdiction of the 
courts of law*." The decisions of former Lord Chan- 
cellors, and the customs and practices which sprung up 
in the courts, have created a body of equity law in very 
much the same way that the body of the common law 
was created. And thus the law of England is divided 
iuto two great branches of common law and equity law, 
each having their forms, rules, and precedents, accord- 
ing to which the judges regulate their decisions. The 
Court of Exchequer has what is termed its equity side 
as well as its common law side. 

Next in rank to the Lord Chancellor in (he Court of 
Chancery is the Master of the Rolls; be Is chief of the 
masters in Chancery, and derives his name from being 
keeper or guardian of the Chancery rolls or records. 
During term time the Chancery judges sit at West- 
minster Hal! ; on other occasions, the Lord Chancellor 
in Lincoln's Inn Hail, the Vice-Chancellor in a court 
near it, the Master of the Rolls in his court in Chan- 
cery Lane, and one of the barons of the Court of 
Exchequer, as an equity judge, in Gray's Inn Hall t. 

The Court of Bankruptcy was established in the 
beginning of the reign of the present king. Its name 
implies the nature of iia business. It is subdivided into 
three courts — the Court of Review, with a chief judge 
and two puisne judges. The commissioners of bank- 
ruptcy are six in number. * . . 

The court for the relief of insolvent debtors is pre- 
sided over by three judges, termed commissioners, one 
of whom sits twice a week in London the whole year 
through, and they also make circuits over England. 

We have hardly space to enter into any detail re* 
specting the Ecclesiastical Courts. Their jurisdiction 
takes cognizance of wills, and administration of personal 
property — of causes for separation and nullity of mar- 
riage, of suits respecting church-rates and churches, of 
cases respecting church discipline, connected either 
with clergy or laity, Ac. Ac. The advocates practising 
or presiding in these courts are an incorporated body, 
forming a college, the numbers being limited. They 
are all Doctors of Law. A proctor is an ecclesiastical 
attorney or solicitor. 

In Doctors' Commons is also the Admiralty Court. 
Its criminal business is given to the Central Criminal 
Court, but it has an extensive jurisdiction in civil 
admiralty causes. 

The courts of law cannot be dismissed without 
slightly noticing the metropolitan prisons for* debtors 
connected with them. The Kings Bench Prison lia 
across the river in South wark. It occupies an extensive 
space of ground ; and the tall and dusky walls that 
surround it give it a very gloomy external appearance. 
Hut inside it has the appearance of being not a prison, 
but one of those prison-looking places, a fortified town* 

* 'Penny Cyciop«dia/_article Chancellor. . 
t See lani of C&urtj 

Penny Magazine/ No, 208. 

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It contains shops, stalls, and public-bouses, for the sup- 
ply of its somewhat numerous population. This prison, 
and that of the Fleet, may be termed the head prisons 
of England for the incarceration of debtors — for debtors 
can procure themselves to be removed (at some ex- 
pense) from any other prison to either of these two. 
Each of these also has a certain space outside the prison, 
under the name of Rules, in which debtors who. can 
afford to pay certain fees, and give security, are allowed 
to reside — and it may be easily imagined that those 
who can do so are not always to be found precisely 
within the precincts of the Rules. It has been long 
a maxim of the common law that a debtor must answer 
with his body, if he cannot or will not with his purse — 
but we are doubtless drawing nearer to a better time, 
and to a more humane — nay, to a more self-interested 
application and understanding of the law of debtor and 
creditor. The King's Bench Prison is the place of 
confinement where the Court of King's Bench has been 
in the habit of committing its prisoners, such as those 
guilty of " contempt " towards it, and many of those 
who have been sentenced by it to imprisonment for 

The Marshalsea, oj Palace Court, has also a prison 
for debtors in Southwark, which, until within these few 
years past, was a shocking place of confinement. It 
has been re-edified and improved. 

The Fleet Prison lies in Farringdon Street, near the 
bottom of Ludgate Mill. This prison was erected in 
the place of the Old Fleet Prison, which was destroyed 
in the Riots of 1780, and which was so notorious for 
its " Fleet marriages." The Fleet is the prison to 
which the Courts of Chancery, Common Pleas, and 
Exchequer, commit for " contempt." 

One word about " spunging-houses." Formerly, 
when prisons were altogether horrid places, and debtors 
and criminals were confined together in Newgate, 
persons arrested for debt, who shrunk from the con- 
tamination of a prison, and had some prospect of 
speedily coming to an arrangement with their creditors, 
if they could afford it, remained in the custody of the 
sheriff's officer, at his house. The oppressive exactions 
practised by these persons on their unfortunate prisoners 
originated the name of " spunging-houses." They 
have of late years been put under salutary regulations. 


[From a Correspondent.] 

Is England we consider it no trifling affair to remove 
our household establishments, when circumstances ren- 
der it necessary for us to do so; whereas our Trans- 
Atlantic brethren, the Americans, set about removing 
their houses (goods and chattels included), without 
considering it matter of difficulty or hardship. To be 
sure, their bnildings (I do not include those of their 
older towns and cities) are less substantial and solid 
than ours; for a frame of moderate-sized posts and 
scantlings, lined within and without with thin pine 
boards, is not quite so ponderous an affair as a build- 
ing where the walls are of massive stone, nor even as 
one of bricks and mortar. 

Before I proceed to explain the usual plan adopted 
for removing buildings, I will relate some circumstances 
connected with a frame-building with which I was 
acquainted, and which constituted a fraction of the 
capital of the county in which I resided. While the 
town was but in its infancy, an acquaintance of mine 
built a M store" (shop for general merchandise, with 
granaries, &c, overhead), in which he commenced the 
business of a general merchant. In a few years the 
population increased, and the town became much en- 
larged ; and so did the business of my acquaintance, 

inasmuch that he found, or fancied, his original store 
too small for him. In this dilemma what was to be 
done? The difficulty was soon solved; he sold his 
store, to be taken off the premises, for he wanted the 
ground to build a larger one upon. A dress-maker 
was the purchaser, who removed it about eighty yards 
along the same street, and had it fitted up to suit 
her line of business; at the same time converting 
a portion of it into apartments to dwell in. How 
long she occupied it I do not precisely recollect; 
but, quitting that part of the country for a few years, 
when I returned and looked for my old^acquaintance, 
the milliner's store, nothing like it was to be seen. I 
repaired to the original owner, and inquired if some 
calamity had befallen it, or if it were still on the move? 
" I guess," replied he, " that you will find it in Centre 
Avenue, a little below the Washington Hotel. It. is 
now the property of Mr. D— , my old clerk, who has 
converted it into a ' grocery.* " And, to be sure, there 
it was ! and one of the greatest nuisances of the place ; 
for Mr. D — a grocery was the rendezvous of all the 
lazy, drunken vagabonds connected with the town and 
neighbourhood. I do not remember how many years 
it continued the resort of the dissolute ; but it was, after 
the temperance societies had made some progress in 
that part of the country, that, happening one day to be 
in the town, I observed more bustle than ordinary in 
the vicinity of Mr. D— *s grocery, and upon inquiring 
what was going on, I learned that the grocery was 
once more on the move ; that it had been purchased 
by a stanch temperance man, a boot and shoe-maker ; 
and that he was removing it into the vicinity of his own 
dwelling-house : not only into another street, but to a 
distant part of it ; and there I left it when I removed 
from that district some years afterwards — one part of it 
occupied by half-a-dozen cobblers* stalls, and the other 
part a well-supplied shoe and leather store. 

I was once present at the removing of a large grist- 
mill, containing four pair of mill-stones, besides aU the 
machinery and apparatus necessary for the purpose of 
carrying on the manufacture of flour for exportation. 
It was a stout frame-building, of the dimensions of fifty 
feet by forty, and four stories high. After it had been 
some time in operation, it was ascertained that in dry 
seasons the situation did not command a sufficient head 
of water ; but, as the stream had a considerable fall, it 
was obvious that if the mill were placed 100 yards fur- 
ther down, the desired fall would be obtained. To 
effect this the owner of the mill agreed with an old 
Yankee to remove it, just as it stood, to its new site, for 
the sum of 100 dollars (a little over 201. sterling), a 
small sum apparently for such an undertaking; tor if 
the building or machinery sustained any damage, the 
person undertaking the removal was to make it good. 
Large frame-buildings, like the one in question, require 
stout timbers for their posts and beams ; the principal 
timbers in this mill were from twelve to fifteen inches 
square. Besides the four bottom beams or sills which « 
rested on the stone foundation, there were three others 
of a siiriilar size mortised into the end ones, and equi- 
distant from each other; so that there were, in fact, 
five transverse beams on which the lowest floor rested. 
The first thing to be done was the laying down of 
wooden ways, upon which the building was to travel 
upon rollers ; to accomplish which, five rails of squared 
timber, at distances asunder exactly corresponding with 
the foundation- timbers of the mill, were properly placed 
and secured, in lines extending to where a new foun- 
dation of stone had been already prepared. After this 
the building was raised perpendicularly, by the means 
of wedges of hard timber, about eight inches, in order 
that eight-inch wooden rollers might be placed under 
the several lower beams and sills ; which having been 
done the wedges were withdrawn, and the building then 

K 2 

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[February 25 

Tested upon the rollers. The rollers were made of hard 
timber, each about five feet long, and perforated near 
each end with suitable holes, for the reception of hand- 
spikes or levers, to be used by the persons employed in 
the removal of the building*. Under each beam were 
placed four rollers, so that under the whole five beams 
twenty were employed. I should have remarked that 
it was necessary to remove the bottom floor-planking, 
in order that the persons employed at the rollers placed 
under the middle or inner beams might be enabled to 
work them. Two persons were appointed to each 
roller, one to each end ; and everything having been 
properly fixed, and all the forty men at their respective 
posts, the old Yankee captain gave the word " move," 
when the fabric instantly began to advance on its 
wooden ways. As soon as the rearmost rollers were 
set at liberty in the rear of the advancing building, 

they were straightway carried forward and placed under 
the extreme forepart of the beams they severally be- 
longed to. It was found that the power of the forty 
men stationed at the rollers with their handspikes or 
levers, was amply sufficient to keep the building 1 in 
motion without any extraordinary exertion being called 
for ; and as there intervened no obstacle in the distance 
the mill had to travel, in about three hours it had 
advanced to its destined resting-place. Having safely 
arrived there, wedges were again employed in order to 
free the rollers, and to settle it gradually on its new 
foundation. The whole undertaking was completed 
without the slightest injury occurring to any part of 
the building or machinery ; not a square of glass was 
broken or cracked in any of the score of windows that 
belonged to various parts of it ; not a pin or a nail wa* 
sprung or broken. 

The Pilchard. 

[Pilchard. — Clupea pt/chardta.] 

The pilchard bears a strong resemblance to the herring, 
but instead of being found on every part of the coasts 
of Britain, like that fish, its geographical distribution is 
exceedingly limited, and in this country it is only found 
in any great numbers on the shores of Devon and 
Cornwall, chiefly from Dartmouth to Padstow, round 
the Land's End. It requires a warmer and more 
genial latitude than the herring, and though occasion- 
ally taken at Yarmouth, and as far north as Dublin 
and Belfast, yet these are only individuals separated by 
accident from the great shoal. The Bay of Biscay is a 
place to which they resort, and on the southern coast 
of Ireland a tolerably flourishing fishery existed about 
seventy years ago. The pilchard is not unknown in 
Scotland; it is there called the gipsy herring. The 
south-western coast of England, stretching further 
south than any other part of the United Kingdom, 
is, however, their most favoured haunt ; and indi- 
viduals are there to be found at all seasons of the 
year. If the causes which regulate their movements 
were perfectly understood, there can be no doubt 
but that their habits would be found directed by as 
wonderful a degree of instinct as that which governs 
other portions of the unreasoning creation, with whose 
history we are better acquainted. Mr. Yarrell, in his 
interesting account of the pilchard (vol. ii. p. 96), says, 
— " In January they keep near the bottom, and are 
chiefly seen in the stomachs of ravenous fishes; in 
March they sometimes assemble in schulls (shoals), 
and thousands of hogsheads have in some years been 
taken in seans, but this union is only partial and not 
permanent ; and it is not until July that they regularly 
and permanently congregate so as to be sought after 
by the fishermen." The pilchard sometimes spawns in 
May, but the usual season is October. Pennant stated 
that their winter retreat was the same as the herring, 
and that the same impulses brought them from thence 
to our shores ; but it is now clear that their migration 

consists merely of a change from the deep sea to the 
shore, and again from the shore to the deep adjacent sea. 
Their course generally appears to be from the west, 
but, like the herring, the pilchard is very uncertain in 
its movements. Dr. Forbes* says, — " Both the period 
of their arrival and departure, and also the course they 
take, is uncertain, and have varied greatly in different 
years. Fifty or sixty years since they remained on the 
coasts till Christmas, and the fishermen were engaged 
in their capture five or six months, but now the season 
does not last more than two or three months. Some 
years ago, indeed, they either did not appear at all on 
the Cornish coast, or only for a few weeks, or even days. 
In former years they also appeared first on the northern 
coasts of Cornwall, towards the east, from whence they 
proceeded westward round the Land's End, and then 
eastward along the southern coasts. Lately, however, 
they have, on some occasions, scarcely touched on the 
northern coasts, but have made their first appearance 
on the eastern parts of the south coast." The pilchard 
measures from nine to eleven inches in length ; it con- 
tains more oleaginous matter than the herring; the 
.body is thicker and rounder, and less compressed ; the 
under jaw shorter; the scales larger, and forming* a 
closer texture than those of the herring, which drop off, 
and are smaller and thinner; the line of the abdomen 
smooth. The upper part of the pilchard is a bluish 
green ; the belly a silvery white ; head golden-coloured 
yellow; tail dusky. The pilchard has no teeth, in 
which respect it differs from the herring. The dorsal 
or back fin of the pilchard being placed in the centre of 
gravity, the body will rest in an exact horizontal po- 
sition if taken up by this part, whereas in the herring 
the dorsal fin being to the right of the centre, the fish 
on being taken up by it will not remain equipoised, 
but>the head drops downwards. 

The stations of the pilchard-fishery are St. Ives, on 
♦ * Medical Topography of the Land'i End/ 1833* 

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the northern coast of Cornwall ; Mount's Bay, on the 
southern coast ; thence eastward at St. Mawes, at Me- 
vagissey, and to the coasts of Devon. There are two 
modes of fishing, one with seans and the other with 
drift nets. The former requires a considerable capital : 
about eighteen men are employed in conducting the 
operations of a single " concern/' and three boats are 
necessary ; while the drift nets are managed by from 
four to six men in a single boat. The sean fishery is 
carried on near the shore, the drift fishery further at 
sea ; and while the former supplies the foreign demand, 
thfc latter is chiefly engaged in providing for the imme- 
diate consumption of the home market, as from the 
manner in which the fish are taken they are not so well 
adapted for curing as those caught by the seans. 

The nets used in the sean fishery are, a stop-sean, 
with lead weights at the bottom, and corks at the top 
to keep it floating, which costs between 300/. and 400/., 
being about a quarter of a mile in length and nearly 
100 feet in depth ; and a tuck-sean, which is made with 
a hollow in the middle, is one-half the size in length 
and eighteen feet deeper than the larger net : it costs 
about 100/. Two boats, of about fifteen tons each, are 
used, in one of which the stop-sean is carried ; the 
other, which carries the tuck-sean, is required to assist 
in inclosing the fish, and is called the " volyer," sup- 
posed to be a corruption of " follower ;" the smaller boat, 
of from two to four tons burthen, is used to carry the 
men to and from the shore, besides being useful when 
the men are engaged with the nets ; it is called a 
" lurker," and the crew consists of the master-seaner 
with three of the men, while the remainder are equally 
divided between the other two boats. The most favour- 
able place for the sean-fishing is a fine sandy bay. The 
fishermen commence their labours towards evening, 
proceeding at that time to the place which the fish may 
be expected to visit, and there they cast anchor. Should 
a shoal make its appearance, the master-seaner and his 
men are instantly on the alert, in order to ascertain the 
extent of the shoal, and the nature of the ground over 
which it is passing. As soon as the shoal is within the 
depth of the sean, the boat containing it is rowed round, 
and" when they have reached-the proper place, the three 
men whose business it is to attend to the net heave it 
out with the greatest dispatch. This great body of net, 
rope, corks, and lead, is thrown into the sea in less than 
five minutes. During the whole of these proceedings 
the movements of the fishermen are directed by signs 
from the master-seaner in the lurker, as the pilchard is 
easily alarmed. What follows is taken from Mr. Yar- 
rell's work : — " The sean at first forms a curved line 
across the course of the fish ; and while the two larger 
boats are employed in warping the ends together, the 
lurker' s station is in the openings, where, by dashing the 
water, the fish are kept away from the only place of 
escape. When the sean is "closed and the ends are 
laid together, if the body of the fish be great, and 
the sea or tide strong, the net is secured by heavy 
grapnels, which are attached to the head-ropes by haw- 
sers. When the evening has closed in, and the tide is 
low, they proceed to take up the fish. For this purpose, 
leaving the stop-sean as before, the volyer passes within 
it, and lays the tuck-sean round it on the inner side ; 
it is then drawn together so as gradually to contract 
the limits of the fish, and raise them from the bottom. 
When disturbed they become exceedingly agitated; 
and so great is the force derived from their numbers 
and fear, that the utmost caution is used lest the net 
should either sink or be burst. When the tuck-sean is 
thus gradually contracting, and the boats surround it, 
stones suspended from ropes, called minnies, are re- 
peatedly plunged into the water at that part where 
escape alone is practicable, until the fish then to be 
taken are supported in the hollow or bunt of the sean." 

It is stated that it is not more difficult to take a thousand 
hogsheads of fish than to take a single hogshead ; and 
as the movements of a large body are slower than a 
smaller, the difficulty is probably less. Instances have 
occurred in which 2000 hogsheads, or about 5,000,000 
fish, have been caught at once : but when a very large 
number are caught, only so many are taken out of the 
net at one time as the boats can conveniently carry, and 
a week or ten days may elapse before the whole are 
secured. By this arrangement the process of salting or 
curing is properly performed ; whereas, if the whole 
were compelled to be brought on shore at once, many 
would be spoiled, from the impossibility of getting 
through the work in proper time. The fish are brought 
to Che surface by a small net, and two men with a large 
basket bale them out of the net into the boat. When the 
fishery is carried on beyond the usual distance from the 
coast, as at Mount's Bay, the fish are conveyed to the 
shore in small sloops of a few tons' burthen. In ordinary 
cases it is conveyed by the sean boats. At St. Ives 
huers are employed, though at all the other stations 
they have been discontinued. The huers, according to 
Mr. Yarrell, are " men posted on elevated situations 
near the sea, who by various concerted signals made 
with a bunch of furze in each hand, direct the fishermen 
how best to surround a schull of fish." They perform 
the part which is now assigned to the master-seaner in 
the lurker. In some seasons there are what is called 
the first and second catch ; the latter being at a period 
when the season has in other years generally termi- 

The fishing by drift or driving-nets is generally carried 
on in common fishing-boats, manned by four men and 
a boy. These boats have generally either lug-sails or 
sprit-sails ; and there are often as many as twenty nets 
to each boat, the whole of which being joined together 
extend three- fourths of a mile in length, though they 
maybe much shorter, — the excellence and superiority of 
the tackle depending upon the extent of the fisherman's 

The fish, on being brought to the shore, are at once 
taken to the cellars or storehouses, where they are 
salted and ranged in heaps, from five to six feet in 
height, and in some instances ten or twelve feet wide. 
After remaining in this state for five or six days, they 
are packed into hogsheads. By the application of a 
powerful lever at the top of the hogshead, the oil is 
extracted, and runs out of the casks through holes 
made for the purpose. The pressing continues for 
about a fortnight. The refuse salt, which is mixed 
with the scales and blood of the fish, is sold as manure 
to the farmers, and is applied with great advantage to 
the land. It is estimated that the refuse of each pil- 
chard will manure one square foot of land. 

About ninety years ago the pilchard-fishery was 
carried on in Bantry Bay, Ireland, but the French 
interfered with it, using large drift nets, which prevented 
the fish coming into the smaller bays, and thereby in- 
juring the native sean fishermen, who retaliated by de- 
stroying the French nets during the night. The pilchard- 
fishery is not now pursued on the southern coasts of 
Ireland. The fish do not resort there in sufficient num- 
bers ; and if they did, enterprise and capital would 
probably be wanting to establish the sean fishery. 

It is computed that 48 hogsheads of pilchards will 
yield 252 gallons of oil. In 1801 a tun of this oil was 
worth from 20/. to 25/., but is now of much less value. 
Five bushels of salt, of 841bs. each, are required in 
curing one hogshead of pilchards, which contains about 
3000 fish, and weighs between five and six hundred- 
weight. A stock of 3000 bushels is the average 
consumption of salt by a single sean in a favourable 

Digitized by 




[February £5, 


[Continued from No. 309.] 

Having given a general view of what chivalry was, we 
propose now to give some historical particulars respect- 
ing the more remarkable of those orders of knighthood 
which the spirit of chivalry produced. Before doing 
so, however, the following list of existing orders, whe- 
ther they have descended from chivalric times, or are 
of modern creation, is presented. It will be useful for 
reference, as well as exhibiting at a glance the extent 
and nature of an influence which still operates, though 
the state of things which produced it has long since 
passed away. Modern orders of knighthood are, in- 
deed, little more than mere decorative associations, re- 
warding its members with stars and ribands ; and they 
have been multiplied to an extent which appears ludi- 
crous. But the principle which upholds them is vital, 



Scotland < 
Ireland • , 
Ionian Is- 


The Garter , . 

The Bath • • • 

The Thistle . . 

St. Patrick . . 

Guelphic Order . 
St Michael and St. 



1350 Edward HI. 
1399 Henry IV. 


James V. . 
George III. 
George IV. 
Ditto . . 

and belongs to human nature— the desire of distinction, 
and the wish to reward and be rewarded. Our objec- 
tion can only lie to the form in which this is mani- 
fested. Some of the orders have more substantial re- 
wards than mere decorations attached to them. The 
Teutonic Order, for instance, still retains, in Austria* a 
portion of the large possessions with which it was once 
endowed; so do one or two others; the members ef 
several continental orders receive annual pensions; 
and admission to others, though not immediately pro- 
ductive of profit, entitles to privileges which may load 
to it, or gives a title to take a certain rank in society. 

The following list is compiled partly from ( Collec- 
tion Historique des Ordres de Chevalerie CiviU et Mili- 
tates,' par A. M. Perrot. 4to. Paris, 1820; from the 
' Almanach de Gotha' for 1837 ; and compared with 
Gottschalck's ' Almanach der RiOer-Oiden,' 3 vod&. 
Leips., 1817—19, 8vo.:— 


The statutes were remodelled by Henry Till. The order 
has descended regularly to our time. 

Was revived by George I., in 1725, and remodelled and ex- 
tended in 1 8 1 5, by George IV., the (then) Prince Regent. 

Revived by King James II. in J 687, and again by Queen 

[Anne, in 1703. 

To commemorate the deliverance of Hanover. 

Founded after the Ionian Islands, by the treaty of 1815, 
were erected into an independent state under the pro- 

tection of Great Britain. 

The Orders of the Knights Templars (which still exists), the Knights of Malta, and the Teutonic Order, cannot pro- 
perly be assigned to any particular country. They were founded in the twelfth eentury.— -(See the history of the 
two first in the fifth volume of the ' Penny Magazine/) The Teutonic Order, instituted in 1190, wis a German 
one, and its history is very interesting. It now exists principally in Austria^ 

Austria . 

Maria Theresa. . 
St. Stephen . . 

Order of Leopold . 
Iron Crown . . . 
Elizabeth Thereaa. 



Baden . 

The Golden Fleece. 1430 * . . . . • On the marriage of Philip, Do ke of Burgundy, with Isabella 

of Portugal. 
Maria Theresa . Named in honour of the Empress Maria Theresa. 
Ditto .... Named in honour of Stephen, the first Christian King of 

Francis I. • . . Named after his father, Leopold II. 
Napoleon . . . Adopted and remodelled by Francis II. in 18IG. 
) 750 .»».*. Founded by Elizabeth, widow of Charles VI., and remo- 
delled in 1771 by Maria Theresa. 
The Starry Cross 1688 Empress Eleonora. This is a female order. It was founded to commemorate 

what was supposed to be a miraculous event— the pre- 
servation of a supposed fragment of the true cross during 
a tire. The reigning empress is always grand mistress 
of tho order, as the representative of the foundress. 
There are three orders in this State:— Order of Fidelity, 1715, remodelled in 1803 ; Military Merit, 1807; 

and the Lion of Zahringen, 1812. 
St. Hubert . • . 1444 ...... To commemorate a victory won on St Hubert's day by 

Girard V., Duke of Juliers and Bere. Revived in 1709. 

This order claims origin from the twelfth century, but the 

[date is uncertain. It was revived in (729. 

To roward services rendered in a civil capacity, as distin- 

Remodelled in 1812. [guished from military. 

Instituted to reward such as shall have passed fifty years 

with credit in the public servioe— *civil, military, or eecle- 

1827 Theresa . . . Queen of Bavaria — female order. [siastie. 

1766 ElectressEUzabeth A female order. 

St. George . . . 
Maximilian Joseph 
Civil Merit. * . 
St. Michael . . 
Royal Order of 

Order of Theresa . 
Elizabeth . . . 



Charles dAIberg . 
Maximilian Joseph 
Ditto , - . . 
Joseph Clement . 
Louis I. . . . 

Belgium . 



Lion . . • .1768 
Order of Leopold . 1832 
Henrt the Lion . 1834 
The Elephant , . 1693 

Theresa . . . 

Charles Theodore . 
Leopold • . ♦ 
Duke William. 
Christian V. . . 

Extinguished by Maximilian Joseph in 1808 
To reward services rendered to the countrv. 

This order claims from the twelfth eentury. Some histo- 
rians date it in 1458. Christian V. revived and altered H. 

Daanebrog. . . 1693 This order was first instituted by Waldemar II. in 1219. 

Revived in 1671 by Christian V., but its statutes bear 
date in 1693. Frederic VI. remodelled this order in 1 808. 

1469 Louis XL . . . The ancient orders of France were all suppressed during 
the first Revolution. This was revived by Louis X VIII. 

1578 Henry III. 

1693 Louis XIV. 

1759 Louis XV. . . For Protestants. Re-established in 1814. 

1416 Re-established in 1816. 




St. Michael. . . 

Holy Ghost. . . 

St. Louis • . . 

Military Merit. . 

St. Hubert. . . 
Legion of Honour . 1 802 

Cross of July . .1830 

Golden Lion . .1770 

Military Merit . . 1769 

Iron Helmet . .1814 

Louis Phili 
Frederick I 


Frederick II. 
William L 

Ratified by Louis XVIII. in 1814. 

To commemorate the Three Days of 1830. 

Extended in 1816 by William I. 

Until 1820 it was termed the Order of Military Virtue. 

Digitized by 




Hesse, Grand 

Holland. . 

Lucca . . 
Parma . • 






Roman Stat** 

Russia, with 
Poland . 







Spain. . . 

Founded. Founder. 

. 1807 Grand Duke, Louis 

.1815 Willliaml. . . 

. 1815 

Cross of St. George 1833 Charles Louis. 
Constantino . . 1190 

Order of Louis. 

Military Order. 
The Lion 


The Sun and Lion. 1808 Feth Aly Shah 

Order of Christ . 1317 Denis . . . 

St. James of the 1170 

Order of Avis. ,,1162 

Tower and Sword . 
The Immaculate 

St. Isabella. . . 

Don Pedro • . . 
Black Eagle . . 
Red Eagle • . • 

Order of Merit. . 
St. John of Jeru- 

Order of Louisa . 

Iron Cross . . . 

Order of Christ . 

Golden Spur . . 

1459 AlphontoV. 
1818 John VI. . 





Charlotte de Bour- 
bon, Q. of Portugal 
Don Pedro. 
Frederic I. . . 

Frederic II. . . 
Frederic William 

Ditto . . . . 

Pope John XXII. 
Pope Pius IV. . 

St. Andrew. . 
St Catherine . 

St Alexander 

White Eagle . 

St. George . 
St. Wladimir . 
St. Anne . . 

St. Stanislaus . 

Military Merit . . 

The Annunciation. 

St. Maurice and 
St Lazarus. 

1698 Peter I. . 
1714 Ditto . . 

1722 Peter I. . 

1705 Augustus . 

1769 Catherine II. 

1782 Ditto . . . . 

1 735 Charles Frederic, 

1765 Stanislaus. . . 

1791 Ditto . , . . 
1409 Amadous VIIL . 
1434 Ditto . . . . 

Named after the founder. 
To reward civil merit only. 

This order was formerly named the Angelic. It appears 
to have been founded by the Greek Emperor Isaac Com- 
nenus. After various changes it was settled in Parma. 

Founded to reward foreigners who perform important ser- 

. vices .to Persia ; and given to ambassadors. 

Founded after the suppression of the Templars. The order 

. became very rich about 1420, in the time of John I, 

See Spain. 

This order arose out of the Moorish wars. The name was 
taken from the fortress or castle of Avis, given to the 
order by Alphonso II. 

Revived in 1608. 

Founded for the admission of both sexes. 

Female order. 

Instituted when he was crowned first king of Prussia. 
The Margrave George Frederic formed this order out of 

a previous one which, had been in existence from 1660. 
It replaced a previous order founded in 1667, 

To reward females who had given proof of their attachment 
[to the country during the war. 

This order is not held in much estimation. There are two 
other orders in Rome: one of St. John of Lateran, in- 
stituted by Pius IV. in 1560; the other was founded by 
Pope Gregory XVI., in 1831, and called after his name, 

St Andrew is the patron of Russia as well as of Scotland. 

In honour of the Empress Catherine. The empress is 
Grand Mistress. Both sexes. 

In memory of the sainted warrior whose name the order 

King of Poland, who it appears only remodelled the order. 
It claims existence from the time of Ladislaus V., 1325. 

For officers of the land and sea service. 

Founded for the purpose of rewarding individuals of every 


Polish order. It was revived by the Emperor Alexander 

in 1815, and made Russian in 1831. 
Ditto. Its first establishment was of very short duration. 
It was re-established in 1807, and made Russian in 1831. 
This order claims to have been founded in the previous 

century, and only remodelled in 1409. 
This order was established by the founder, after his retire- 
ment from active life, for the purpose of religious and 
mental improvement. It fell into decay, but was revived 
in 1572, for the purpose of opposing Calvin and the Re- 
formation. It was confirmed by successive papal bulls. 
The order derives an annual revenue of about 8000/. 
from its estates, which is regularly divided. 
Military Older of 1815 Victor Emmanuel. 

Civil Order. . .1831 Ditto. 
Crown of Saxony . 1807 Frederic Augustus 
Military Order of 1738 Augustus III. . King of Poland. 

Civil Merit!* . . 1815 Frederic Augustus To reward proofs of attachment afforded during the war 
Order of Vigilance', 1732 Ernest Augustus. Restored in 1815, by Charles Augustus. 

Du^al Order of the 1833 This is a family order, established to the memory of the 

Ernest Line. * direct line of Saxe'Gotha-Altenburg, which became ex- 

A tinct in 1825. . , 

St James of the 1170 . " St James was the great patron of chivalry in the peninsula. 

Sword The origin of -the order was to protect pilgrims to the 

I shrine of St. James of Compostella from the Moors. 

Calatrava ... 1158 ..... • Arose out of the Moorish wars. 

^wuTchrist and' 1216 St beanie .' ! Arose out of the crusade against the Albigenses. These 
St. Peter. ' four Spanish orders were rehgio-mihtary. 

The Golden Fleece ♦ . See Austria. 

Our Lady of Mon- 1317 James II. . . KingofAragon and Valencia, 

Digitized by 




Spain . 


[February 25, 1837. 



Royal order of 

Charles III. 
Maria Louisa 

St. Ferdinand . . 
St. Hermenegildo. 
Royal American 

Order of Isabella 

the Catholic. 
Maria Louisa Isa- 
Seraphim . . . 




Charles III. 

1792 Maria Louisa 


The Cortes. 
Ferdinand VII. 
Ditto . . 


1748 Frederic I. 

Turkey . 

Two Sicilies 

The Sword . 
Polar Star , 


Charles MIL 
Crescent . 
St. Stephen 
St. Joseph . 
White Cross 
St. Januarius 


Gustavus Vasa. 
Frederic I. 

1772 Gustavus III. 


Charles MIL . 

Selim III. . . 

Cosmo de Medicis. 

Ferdinand III. .. 


Charles , . . 

S. America. 


St Ferdinand and 

St. George of the 

Francis I. . . . . 
Order of the Two 

Order of the Libera- 
tors of Venezuela. 
Golden Eagle . . 

Military Merit. . 

. Civil Merit. . . 

Crown of Wurtem- 

Order of Frederic. 

1800 Ferdinand IV. 

1819 Ditto. 

1829 Francis I. 

1808 Joseph Napoleon , 

1819 Bolivar. 

1702 Evrard Louis . -, 

1759 Charles Eugene ., 

18P6 Frederic I. 

1818 William. 

1830 Ditto. 


Remodelled by Charles IV. In 1 804. 

Female order, in the nomination of the Queen of Spain 

Remodelled in 1816. 
Reformed by Ferdinand VII. in 1815. 

Exclusively designed to reward those who had exerted 
themselves for the conservation of the Spanish American 

To commemorate the oath of fidelity taken to the infant 
Queen of Spain. 

This order is said by some authorities to have been founded 
towards the end of the 13th or beginning of the 14th cen- 
tury. In 1336 a great number of knights were created 
at the coronation of Magnus Ericson. Frederic revived it. 

Revived in 1 748 by Frederic I. 

The first date of this order is unknown. It was revived 

. only by Frederic. 

Instituted to reward persons distinguished in agriculture, 
mines, commerce, &<?.. 

To recompense civil services. 

To reward services rendered to the Porte by foreigners. 

Remodelled in 1817. 

Also remodelled in 1817* 

Afterwards the Third, of. Spain. It was instituted on 

occasion of his marriage. . 
To commemorate his return to Naples in 1 799. It was 
• abolished in 1805 at Naples by Joseph Napoleon, but 
. . [continued to subsist in 8kily. 

Remodelled by Ferdinand IV. in 1815, and replaced by the 
Order of St. George of the Reunion in 1819. 

It was .called by him ." The Grand Chase ;" but received 

its present name in 1 806 from Frederic I. 
Remodelled in 1799 toy Frederic I. 

In the United States of America, the officers of the army, in 1783, at the close of the revolutionary war, formed an order, 
which they termed the " Order of Cincinnatus." This order was disapproved of by the government, and was very 
unpopular with the public, as containing the germ of hereditary distinctions. It was at length resolved that the 
Society should hot be suppressed, but that the decorations should not be worn in America, that no new members 
should be made, and that it should thus be allowed to expire. This has already happened in several of the States. 

[Collar of the Order of the Garter.] 

To be coatinae<l.j 

[Collar of the Order of the Bath. | 

1 The Office of the Society for the Diffusion of LUeful Knowledge ia at 69. Lincoln's Inn Fieldi. 

Printed bv YTiluxu Clowm and Sew, Stamford Smell, 

Digitized by 


*K*tttf>lg Stuppltrntnt of 



Society for the Diffusion of Usefal Knowledge. 


January 31 to February 28, 1837. 


Legislation and Government. 

[Parliament Street — Board of Trade — Treasury and Whitehall — The King going to the House.] 

The ceremony of the king going in person to Parlia- 
ment* to open the Session is an interesting one. The 
king also generally closes the Session ; and sometimes, 
though very rarely, he goes dowlri during its continuance 
to give assent to bills, or for some special purpose ; but 
the opening of the Session, being a time of greatest ex- 
pectation, is generally regarded with most interest. The 
approach of the king is announced by successive salutes 
of ordnance in St. James's Park and at the Tower. If 
the weather is fine, there is usually a large assemblage 
to witness the procession. The iuterior of the House 
of Lords presents a brilliant and animated scene, the 
peers being in their robes, and a large number of 
ladies being present, either peeresses in their own right, 
or the wives, daughters, or other relations of peers. 

There is a ceremony which the queen may be called 
upon to perform at least once during her lifetime, should 
the occasion arise. This is called " the queen's curtsey. 1 ' 
If Parliament make a separate provision for the queen, 
in case the king dies before her, she goes down to the 

* The Houses of Parliament, which were destroyed by the fire 
of 1834, were described in the volume of the ' Penny Magazine' 
fur i hat year^ along with a sketch of the origin, history, and con- 
stitution of Parliament itsel£ The views of the interior of both 
Uuum* then given will convey some idea of their general ap- 
pearance. It is unnecessary to describe the present temporary 

Vol. VI. 

House of Lords and makes her acknowledgments. The 
last occasion on which this was done was in the year 
1831. *• Aug. 2. The House of Peers was this day 
crowded to excess with peeresses and other ladies of 
high rank, in order to witness the queen consort's de- 
meanour iu testifying her acknowledgments for the 
annual income of 100,000/., besides the residence in 
Bushy Park, to be enjoyed by her for life after the de- 
mise of the king, the bill for securing which had been 
passed by their lordships on the 30th of July. At three 
o'clock her Majesty arrived iu her state carriage, and 
wasconducted by the Lord Chancellor and other great 
officers of state to the robing- room, where her Majesty 
awaited the arrival of the king. He arrived at about 
half-past three, and was met and escorted in like man- 
ner. Almost immediately after this, their Majesties 
entered the House, where the king ascended the throne, 
and the queen took her seat on a chair of state on his 
right, supported on each side by the ladies of her court. 
The Commons, having been summoned, appeared at 
the bar in large numbers, and the Speaker then ad- 
dressed his Majesty, presenting him the Queen's Dower 
Bill. The king bowed, and the clerk of the Parlia- 
ments announced the Royal Assent in the usual form. 
Her Majesty then rose from her seat, and with great 
dignity and grace signified her acknowledgments to 


Digitized by 



the Legisfetaf* ty three several curtsies. Their Ma- 

Even during the session, there is* irt the daytime, 
an air of comparative quietness and repose about the 
neighbourhood of the Houses of Parliament. Towards 
the afternoon, if an important debate is expected, there 
may be sdme appearance of bustle ; and if the session 
be the first of a new Parliament, and a variety of com- 
mittees are trying disputed elections, a number of 
witnesses, some of them, doubtless, rejoicing in heing 
brought up to see London at other people's expense, 
may be observed swarming about the entrances. But 
ordinarily all around seems to speak more of times gone 
by than of the turmoil of modern London. The compa- 
rative stillness that prevails creates an agreeable im- 
pression, especially after escaping from the noise of 
some of the great thoroughfares. The Abbey imparts 
a solemn grandeur to the place ; and though not far 
from it there are scenes of squalid misery, and of more 
offensive profligacy, which might dissipate some of the 
finest visions that memory and imagination can conjure 
up, still the visiter may pace along the pavement, and 
enjoy undisturbedly a retrosj>ect of the rise and growth 
of constitutional liberty, from the time when the Abbot 
of Westminster expelled the " rabble-rout" of the Com- 
mons out of his chapter-house, for brawling and conten- 
tion, down to the present power and importance of this 
prime estate of the realm. 

But we must not be deceived into the idea that 
because the Houses do not sit in their legislative ca- 
pacity till the afternoon, there is therefore no business 
doing. The Honse of Lords may be sitting, exercising 
its Judicial functions ; and though there may only be 
three or four faw lords on the crimson-covered benches, 
counsel may be speaking at the bar of the House on 
some appeal cast, involving great interests, or a large 
amount of property. On these occasions the House 
is freely open, to the public, like the courts of justice in 
Westminster Hall. Select committees, especially of the 
House of Commons, may be busily engaged in im- 
portant investigations of subjects connected with great 
national interests; and a still larger number of com- 
mittees ate employed in hearing evidence upon private 
bills. Nearly all the local improvements of the coun- 
try are thus brought before the cognizance of Parlia- 
ment ; and when great interests are at stake, as in the 
case of a railroad, the committee-rooms present a most 
busy scene, where anxious witnesses, and more anxious 
agents, are exercising the greatest watchfulness, and 
displaying all the energy of partisans. The reports of 
committees are frequently very valuable documents; in 
fact, without their aid many historical and topogra- 
phical descriptions would be incomplete, and many 
details respecting important branches of employment 

Nor must we think lightly of the duties of an actively- 
employed member of the House of Commons during a 
session — they are sometimes very severe. He has calls 
upon hie time in correspondence with his constituents, 
and in presenting petitions: last session there were 
nearly 6000 petitions presented to the House of Com- 
mons, on various subjects, but chiefly of public import- 
ance, and to these were appended upwards of a million 
and a half of signatures. Then he may be appointed 
on committees, sitting perhaps from ten or eleven 
o'clock till three or fonr, no matter what time the 
House may rise, whether it break up at twelve at night 
or not till four in the morning. In some of these com- 
mittees H is his duty to weigh the arguments of counsel 
and the testimony of witnesses, in order to enable him 
to frh't his vote when the matter comes to a decision ; 
ot he may have to draw out a report from a mass of 
evidence and documents, or to deliberate it \\ drawn 
out by another. To fi\\ the post of a member of the 


[Febrdary 28, 

House of Commons with zeal and serviceable assiduity 
requires considerable activity of mind, patience,. prese- 
verance, a'nd^ above all, integrity. 

Let us return to the subject of Private Bills, as an 
illustration of the occupations which may call for the 
time and attention of a Member. Great numbers of 
applications are annually made to Parliament for leave 
to introduce private bills. Certain regulations are laid 
down by the House for the observance of the applicants. 
At the beginning of each session a committee is ap- 
pointed to see that these rules have been attended to. 
If they have, the bills are introduced; and after pass- 
ing through their stages of first and second reading, 
they are each referred to select committees. A few of 
these bills are for strictly private and personal objects, 
sales and improvement of estates, to effect divorces, or 
to naturalize foreigners. But the majority of them are 
generally of a very public nature, though they are 
called private because they are undertaken at the ex- 
pense of individuals, companies, or municipal bodies, 
to effect objects for their immediate and particular 
benefit. Some of these bills may be for making or 
improving roads or railroads ; others for building 
churches, bridges, markets, court-houses, or gaols; 
watering, lighting, or paving towns ; improving rivers, 
cutting or mending canals, creating docks, harbours, 
and piers ; incorporating insurance, gas, water, or 
other companies, or increasing the powers of those 
already existing. They all involve a vast outlay of 
money, sometimes they interfere with many interests, 
and they mostly require a minute investigation, to pre- 
vent public or private wrongs. Say, for example, that a 
railroad is proposed to be carried through the heart of 
England. Out of those whose property the line will 
affect* there will UalUrally be many supporters and 
many opponents, 'Jffefc various parties must therefore 
fee heard in so pnorl o* opposition ; counsel, engineers, 
an4 surveyors must be employed, and a great expense 
entered into, in order to enable the committee ta torn 
a judgment. But even after all, though the committee 
report favourably, the bill may be lost. Last year 
(1836) there were 301 applications for private bills. 
Of that number, 193 obtained their object, aud were 
passed into acts of Parliament, the rest being either 
abandoned, rejected, at withdrawn. Sixty-seveu of the 
successful applications were for roads* railways, canals, 
and rivers; seventeen for harbours, piers, and docks; 
and forty-five for the improvement of towns and dis- 
tricts. The fees paid to the different officers of the 
House of Commons in 183% on 153 private bills, 
amounted to 14,5167. 

There is some little difficulty now in gaining access 
to the strangers 1 gallery of the House of Commons. 
Formerly it used to be by a member's order, or by a fee 
of 2s. %d. to the door-keepers. The fee was abolished 
last year as an objectionable thing, and the only way of 
now procuring admission is by the order of a member. 
But there are many who come to London during the 
session, and, among other things, are anxious to see a 
sitting of the House, who do not know where to get au 
order — they either are not acquainted with a member, 
or dislike to ask. Nay, there are many fiving in Loudon 
similarly situated. Now, though members are usually 
very polite and accommodating, even to strangers, a 
better arrangement might, we think, be made. Ibis 
is not, however, otur province to discuss. 

On entering the strangers' gallery, we perceive liefore 
us, at the other end of the House, over the Speaker's 
chair, a little gallery for the reporters of the newspapers. 
This accommodation was afforded on erecting the pre- 
sent temporary house. What would Woodfall and Perry 
have given to have been thus accommodated in the in- 
fancy of reporting? Is the reader aware of the par- 
ticulars of the struggle of the press with the privileges 

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of the House? They have been frequently recorded. 
A century ago, when the 'Gentleman's Magazine' — > 
that most venerable of periodicals — was in its first 
years of infancy, it ventured to peep into the House, 
and give the public some brief hints of what was said 
and done. But this was put a stop to. The public, 
however, beginning to relish periodical news, and espe- 
cially having acquired a slight taste of parliamentary 
reporting, were willing to receive more. Their con- 
ductors ran risks to supply the demand ; but were 
obliged to offer their contraband goods under fictitious 
names. Even so great a man as Dr. Johnson was 
employed in manufacturing the ' Debates in the Senate 
of Lilliput:' he received brief hints and scanty notes, 
and then wrote the speeches, seasoning them with a 
portion of his own eloquence. Towards the end of 
1770 a^daring effort was made — a number of printers 
broke through the privilege of the House, and boldly 
printed its proceedings. This created a great storm. 
The subject was taken up in the beginning of 1771 ; 
eight printers of newspapers were ordered to attend at 
the bar of the House, but they refused to obey: the 
Serjeant-at-Arms was directed to take them into cus- 
tody, but the Lord Mayor (Brass Crosbie) and two 
aldermen, who were sitting as police magistrates, re- 
leased them, and bound them over to prosecute the 
officers oT the House for assault and wrongous impri- 
sonment ; for this the House sent the Lord Mayor and 
one alderman to tbe Tower, and the clerk of the city, 
being brought to the table of the House, was compelled 
to tear out the leaves of his register which recorded 
the decision of the magistrates. Yet, though appa- 
rently defeated, the press had triumphed. From that 
period the proceedings of the House have been regu- 
larly published. 

The following anecdote, connected with the early 
days of reporting, we know to be authentic : — For- 
merly, in the House of Commons, the reporters for 
the newspapers had no facilities for entrance into 
the gallery beyond those enjoyed by (he public gene- 
rally ; and on days when an inteiesting debate was ex- 
pected, they were frequently obliged to take their place 
on the stairs early in the forenoon; and after standing 
titers for many hours, to depend for their chance of 
getting in upon a struggle with their competitors in 
the crowd when the door was opened. Some thirty or 
forty years ago there was a dark closet at the end of 
the gallery, in which the more experienced of the re- 
porters used to hide themselves during a division, so 
as to be ready for tbe first rush when strangers were 
readmitted. In this closet Mr. Wood fall, Mr. Perry, 
and Mr. Lane (formerly editor of the ' British Press ') 
were once snugly ensconced. The period of exclusion 
was long, and they beguiled it by political discussion. 
At last one of the party roared out, to the dismay of 
the Speaker and the horror of the Serjeant-at-Arms, 
" I say the * Morning Post ' is in the pay of the French 
Directory ! " The culprits were brought to the bar of 
the House, and a strict watch was in future kept on 
the closet of refuge. At length the late Speaker,. Mr. 
Abbott, at a time when some repairs or alterations 
were made in the House, caused a small room to be 
set apart for the use of the reporters, and a door to be 
struck out at tbe back of the gallery; whereby they 
migfht at all times obtain admittance to the back seat, 
which, although the most distant from the body of the 
House, was the best for hearing. They are now, as 
we have stated, accommodated in a little gallery at the 
other end of the House, from the strangers' gallery, 
over the Speaker's chair. 

If the visiter has entered the strangers 1 gallery 
without knowing the subjects on which the House will 
proceed to business, and if he sits down, expecting, as 
a matter of course, that there will be a grand oratorical/ 

display, a keen encounter of wit, and aH the excitement 
of a brilliant assembly, he will Very frequently meet 
with a complete disappointment. Even on what are 
termed " field nights," patience is considerably tried. 
If you cannot make interest to get introduced into the 
reserved seats outside the bar, on the floor of the Home, 
and below the strangers' gallery, you mutt then, if a 
strong debate is expected, take your station at an tarty 
hour on the gallery stairs, and wait with patience; 
you may be admitted when the Speaker is at prayers. 
He, the chaplain, and the clerks are kneeling at the 
table ; there are but five or six members present ; and 
though the gallery is nearly crowded, and you have 
secured a front seat, an apprehension steals over you 
that the required number, forty, will not arrive in time 
to make a house. But the members are dropping in ; 
the Speaker begins to count slowly and deliberately; 
he arrives at thirty-nine, and then takes the chair. The 
debate, however, will not begin immediately. You 
must wait two or three hours for that. In the mean- 
time a variety of motions and business of ^ formal 
nature is gone through, the half of which only reaches 
your ear. There appears to be an apprehension that 
a division will take place on some private bHI— that 
the words " Strangers, withdraw !" will be pronounced* 
and that you will be dislodged from your position, 
which cost so much pains to secure. But this passes 
over, the candles are lighted, and the benches are be- 
ginning to be filled. 

A message from the Lords 1 The form of proposing 
and assenting to the admission of the messenger is gone 
through so quickly and so quietly as almost to escape 
attention. Straightway a gentleman in full dress 
emerges from beneath the gallery, where ha has made 
a profound bow ; advancing to the middle of the floor, 
he bows again ; and on reaching the table ha bows a 
third time. Qn delivering his message, he retreats, 
walking backward with a dexterity that amuses thu 
stranger, and bows three times as he did on advauoiag. 
This is the Usher of the Black Rod, coma to suwiada 
the Speaker and the House to hear the royal assent 
given by commission to certaiu bilks. The Serjtoant-aU 
Arms, who is dressed with a bag-wig and swoid by his 
side, takes up the mace and inarches before the Speaker ; 
a few members follow, but the rest remain. Now the 
strangers pent up in the little gallery may avail them- 
selves of their privilege — the Speaker and the mace are 
goue, and there is therefore " No House ;" they may 
stand up, stretch themselves, and talk, without tear of 
a rebuke or a frown from the attendants. The Speaker 
returns, takes the chair, the mace is laid on the table, 
and he reports to the House the bills that have become 
acts by receiving the final sanction of the legislature. 

On another occasion we may see the Serjeant-at- 
Arms take up the mace, and go to meet two indivi- 
duals in gowns and wigs, with whom he advances, all 
three bowing as did the Usher of the Black Hod. 
These are, masters in Chancery, who are the usual mes- 
sengers of the House of Lords, bringing down ceriaiu 
bills to which the assent of the Commons is requested. 

The House is uow crowded, and the member who 
brings on the important subject of the evening rises to 
make his statement. His Majesty's m misters and their 
supporters always occupy the range of benches on the 
right hand of the Speaker. The Opposition occupy the 
left. When the opening speech is finished, which has 
probably been long, full of facts, and, it may be, impor- 
tant, but consisting chiefly of dry details and figures, a 
large portion of members rise to quit the House ; the 
voice of the succeeding speaker is nearly drowned in the 
noise of footsteps aud slamming of doors, aud it is some- 
times a considerable period before he can be distinctly 
heard. All members bow to the chair on entering, and 
on going out are supposed not to turn their backs on it. 

L 2 

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[February 28, 

The debate £oes dn — now swelling into noble sounds — 
now falling off in tedious episodes ; and by the time 
• the occupant of the front seat of the strangers' gallery 
. has sat from four till twelve,- or later, he will confess 
that, however exciting the subject — however grand the 
associations connected with this political arena, present- 
ing as it does in combination some of the cleverest and 
some of the most influential men of the empire — how- 
ever wonderful it is to see those note-takers carefully 
and accurately reporting the outline of the dekate, 
facts, figures, and all, and with the machinery with 
which they are in connexion, giving the world an op- 
portunity of being present — still, to sit out an important 
debate iti the House of Commons is a very fatiguing 

None can carry a message from the House of Com- 
mons to the House of Lords but members; the House 
©f Lords has specific messengers of its own to convey 
its communications to the Commons. The messengers 
of the House of Commons are merely the servants of 
the Serjeant-at-Arms, who is the head of the household 
establishment, and has the responsibility and care of 
the House, under the Speaker. 

When a bill or message is to be carried from the 
Commons to the Lords, a member is appointed to take 
it; aivlas the practice is that at least eight members 
must go np, the Speaker addresses the House, desiring 
it to follow its messenger. If the bill is an important 
one, a lanre number of members usually accompany 
tht.» messenger The Usher of the Black Hod informs 
the House of Peers of the presence of the messengers ; 
when they are admitted, the Black Rod, as he is abbre- 
viatingly termed, places himself at their head, and the 
Lord Chancellor, or whoever is chairman at the time, 
comes down to the bar to receive the message. Three 
obeisancps are made on entering and retiring. 

The House of Lords has a different appearance from 
the House of Commons. Both are neatly fitted up, 
but the Lords has a richer and more stately appearance. 
The visiter may have entered during the day, when it is 
sitting as the highest court of justice in the empire, 
and judgment on some case may be delivering. This 
may be done at considerable length, either by the Lord 
Chancellor, who is sitting in his official costume, or by 
one of the law lords occupying the benches. If it be 
one of the latter, the stranger's notions may be some- 
what startled at seeing him in plain clothes — for the 
novice is apt to associate robes and stars with his idea 
of the appearance of a peer in his place in Parliament. 
But peers only wear their robes on great occasions. 
The bishops, bowever, always wear their clerical robes. 
When judgment is delivered, the strangers, mingled 
with the counsel in the space below the bar, fall back 
towards the wall, forming a semicircle ; the next case is 
called, the attendant messenger exclaims "Counsel," 
and the barristers conducting the case advance, bowing 
three times ; one of them then ascends the step at the 
bar (on which the Speaker of the House of Commons 
stands when he and the House are summoned) and 
opens the proceeding in an easy colloquial tone. The 
short-hand writer of the House takes his notes at the 
bar. The gallery for strangers and reporters when the 
House sits legislatively occupies a similar position to 
the strangers' gallery in the House of Commons, being 
over the entrance, above the bar. 

At a little distance from the Houses of Parliament, 
Ke some of the principal government offices. A wide 
spacious street, but not perfectly straight, termed 
Whitehall, stretches from the end of Parliament Street, 
(which is a continuation of Whitehall) to Charing Cross. 
A narrow inlet, bearing the far-famed name of Down- 
ing Street, — it should be termed Downing Place, for 
it is not a thoroughfare — runs up from the bottom of 
Whitehall. Here are the official residences of the First 

Lord of the Treasury, the Chancellor of. the Exchequer, 
the offices of the foreign and colonial Secretaries of 
State, &c. From the entrance of Downing Street ?. 
handsome new range of building extends along' White- 
hall, presenting a fine front to the street, which is staled 
to have been copied from the temple of Jupiter Statur 
at Rome. This is appropriated to the Board of Trade 
and the Privy Council, &c. Beyond this, and joining it, 
is the old building of the Treasury, in which the Home 
Office is also placed; higher up is the Horse Guards; 
nearly opposite it is the building termed Whitehall, 
which has given name to the street (see ' Penny Ma- 
gazine,' vol. i); above the Horse Guards, nearer to 
Charing Cross, is the Admiralty ; and opposite, in 
Scotland Yard, are a variety of subordinate government 

St. James's Park, and the Horse Guards' Parade in 
front of it, lie at the back of Downing Street, the 
Treasury, the Hor*e Guards, and the Admiralty. The 
wood-cut represents these buildings from the Park. 
There is an arched passage through the Horse Guar is 
from Whitehall into the Parade. Here between ten 
and eleven in the morning, the animated scene exhi- 
bited in the engraving is presented. 

The extensive and important business of the executive 
government requires a minute subdivision of labour, the 
employment of many offices and numerous functionaries. 
To attempt to gather an idea of the extent of the busi- 
ness transacted from an inspection of the exterior of 
Downing Street and Whitehall would be but an idle 
effort; yet t» describe particularly each office would 
only tempt the reader to exclaim 

" Grove answer* grove ; each alley has its brother, 
And half the platform but reflects the other." 

However different the nature of the various employ- 
ments may be, there must be a similarity in all — the 
Horse Guards alone, from its military air and cha- 
racter, breaking the uniformity. 

In 1815 there were 27,365 individuals employed in 
the Public Departments, receiving annual salaries to 
the amount of 3,763,100/. In 1835 the number was 
reduced to 23,578, and the amount of salaries paid to 
2,786,278/. The following reductions have been made 
since 1825: — in the Treasury, 27,421/.; in the Exche- 
quer and Paymaster of Civil Services, 58,994/. ; in the 
War Office, including Military Boards, 29,509/. ; in the 
Ordnance, 122,174/.; in the Admiralty and Naval de- 
partments, 303,489/. ; in the Excise, 152,301/.; Stamps 
and Taxes, 103,929/. ; Audit department, 54,078/. ; and 
in the Vice-Treasurer's Office, &c, 23,805/. 

The Treasury is the head of the executive. The 
prime minister is always the first lord of the Treasury 
— for the first title is merely honorary, given to him 
from the rank which he takes as head of the govern- 
ment : the second title is the virtual one. The second 
lord of the Treasury is always the Chancellor of the 
Exchequer ; but when it happens that the prime minis- 
ter is a commoner, he sometimes takes both the post of 
First Lord and Chancellor of the Exchequer — for the 
latter must be a member of the Commons, and the 
government appointments are usually distributed so as 
to secure as equal a proportion of ministers as possible 
in both Houses of Parliament. There are four junior 
lords of the Treasury, two secretaries, an assistant 
secretary, two solicitors, and a number of clerks. The 
Treasury has the control of the Mint, the Customs, the 
Excise, the Stamps and Taxes, the Post Office, the 
management of the national debt, Ac. 

The duties of the Chancellor of the Exchequer are of 
a momentous kind. They give him cognizance of the 
entire revenue of the empire. His " budget," as it is 
termed, is an annual exposition to the House of Com- 
mons and the nation of the amount of taxes gathered 
from every source, the expenditure of that money, anc* 

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[Back of the Horse-Guards and the Admiralty.] 

whether a necessity or an opportunity has arisen for 
the imposition of a new tax, or the reduction of an old 
one. The public income arising from the various taxes 
has been for the last three years upwards of fifty mil- 
lions annually. The expenditure for the same period 
has been forty-nine ami forty-eight millions annually, 
leaving" a surplus of about a million and a half each 
year. This has been applied in different ways, but 
principally to the reduction of taxation, a part of the 
surplus, however, being generally applied to the reduc- 
tion of the national debt, according to a prescribed 
method of taking an average. The expenditure is 
applied to the establishments of the King and royal 
family, and Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland ; the salaries 
of ministers, judges, ambassadors, consuls, Ac. ; the ex- 
penses of the army and navy; the payment of pensions; 
and, above all, the interest of the national debt, which 
alone absorbs annually about twenty-eight millions. 

The names of the three secretaries of state indicate 
their several duties. There would appear, at first sight, 
a great difference in the weight of their respective func- 
tions. The home secretary, we might say, having 
such a small department as that of Great Britain to 
attend to, and that, too, chiefly as regards the admi- 
nistration of justice and police, cannot be so heavily 
pressed as he who has to watch foreign nations, control 
ambassadors, .look to nearly 200 consular stations in 
different parts of the world, and otherwise guard our 
foreign interests; or the colonial secretary, presiding 
over our wide-spread empire in every quarter of the 
globe. But what a population is that of Britain ! How 
endlessly complicated are our internal and social rela- 
tions! What watchfulness is required to prevent all 
our great social interests clashing ! The duties of these 
high officers are therefore pretty equally divided. The 
state secretaries are assisted by under-secretaries, with 
their clerks. 

The Board of Trade has its president, secretaries, 
and various departmental clerks ; the Office of Woods 
and Forests its commissioners; the Exchequer its 
comptroller, accountants, &c. ; and the Board of Con- 
trol its president and commissioners. The Office of 

the Board of Control lies over from Whitehall, in a lane 
called Cannon Row, not far from Westminster Bridge. 
Its business is to superintend and control the governing 
functions of the East India Company. 

The Horse Guards is the seat of the government of 
the vast military establishment of Great Britain. The 
king is the head and generalissimo of the army ; the 
commander-in-chief is the king's deputy, and acting 
ruler of the forces. The connexion between the Horse 
Guards and the civil government is maintained by a 
member of the latter, termed the secretary-at-war ; the 
paymaster-general is also usually a civilian. The com- 
mander-in-chief is assisted by a military secretary, an 
adjutant-general, a quarter-master-general, and a judge 
advocate-general. There is also a chaplain-general. 
The Ordnance Office is partly at the Tower of London 
(see the fifth volume of the c Penny Magazine') and in 
Pall Mall ; and it is presided over by a master-general 
and a surveyor-general, with their principal secretaries 
and clerks. 

The total amount of the British army at home anrf 
abroad, including India, was, in 1792, 57,252 ; in 1815 
it was 250,314; in 1934 it was reduced to 108,672. 
The expense of the army for the year 1836-7 was — 
charge for the land forces, exclusive of India, 3, 1 09,557/.; 
charge to be defrayed by the East India Company, 
691,133/. ; total 3,800,690/. In 1836 there were 5,268 
officers receiving half-pay. 

We come now to the Admiralty. The front of this 
building recedes from the street, but is connected with 
it by wings, forming a court-yard. The head of the 
Admiralty is the Lord High Admiral; but this office 
has been rarely held in person (the present king, when 
Duke of Clarence, was Lord High Admiral for some 
time) ; but its duties are discharged by Lords Commis- 
sioners, the first lord being the head of the department. 

Our navy is not at present, a time of universal peace 
(at least on the seas), in extensive employment : yet in 
1835 there was one first-rate, three second -rates, five 
third-rates, and 163 lower classed vessels in commis- 
sion ; which, along with those lying in ordinary, gives a 
total of fifteen first-rates, nineteen second-rates, fift«- 

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[February g& 

five third-rates, and 354 other vessels in the British 
navy — a total of 443. In the King's speech, on the 
opening of the session of 1836, it was announced that 
the navy had been increased, in order to give adequate 
protection to our extended commerce. The wages paid 
to seamen and marines, to ordinary and yard craft, 
amounted, in 1636, to 933,054/. ; and the expense of 
their victuals was 339,825/. The total expense of the 
effective establishment of the navy in that year was 
2,416,300/.; and if to this we add 819,103/. for half- 
pay to navy and mariue officers, and various other 
items, the transport of troops, &c., the entire expense 
of the navy will be found to be 4,245,723/. The 
Navy Pay Office is in Somerset House. 

The preceding gives a very brief and rapid view of 
the head government offices in powning Street and 
Whitehall. iJut there are other offices of the executive, 
subordinate indeed to those we have described, but 
each heads of departments, and of very great import- 
ance, in different parts of London. We shall briefly 
notice them. 

A number of what may be termed the wording offices 
of government are; in Somerset House. This noble 
building is entered from the Strand ; on passing through 
the gateway we arrive in a spacious quadrangle, and 
over the different doprs oi> each side of the square may 
be remarked brief but significant intimations, such as 
" Stamps, and tWs," u Navy ?ay Office/- u Legacy 
Duty Office,'' "Audit Office," &c. &c. Here, there- 
fore, is transacted a large portion of government money 
business, and the receipt and management of such 
parts of the revenue arising from trade as do not fall 
under the heads of Customs or Excise. For instance, 
under " Stamps" are included the taxes levied on deeds, 
legacies, insurance policies, bills of exchange, bankers' 
notes, newspapers and advertisements, stage-coaches, 
post-horses, receipts, &c. The revenue derived from 
these sources was, in the year ending 10th October, 
1835, 6,505,224/. ; aud in 1836, 6,796,489/. Again, 
under " Taxes," so termed, because they are assessed 
directly on property and employment, we find it stated, 
that in 1835 they produced 3,733,997/., and in 183G, 
3,670,747/. The sources from which this money is de- 
rived are land-taxes, houses, windows, servants, horses, 
carriages, dogs, and other assessed taxes. It is calcu- 
lated that the "Stamps" contribute 14 per cent, of the 
entire revenue of the country, and the assessed and 
land-taxes 9 per cent. The rate at which they are 
collected, that is, the amount per, cent, on each 100/. 
which it costs to keep up establishments and officers 
to gather the mouey, is, for "Stamps" %l 10*. I He/., 
and for " Taxes" 5/. 7*. 9±d. Something like a* idea of 
the amount of money which, by the deaths of indivi- 
duals, annually changes hands in Great Britain, may 
be gathered from the fact, that iu 1834 the amount of 
capital on which legacy duty was paid was 41,574,628/., 
and in 1835, 41,092,660/. — forty-one millions annually 
paying legacy duty 1 The taxes arising from probates 
and legacies yields about two millions a-year. 

Among other offices in Somerset House may be 
mentioned that of the Poor Law Commissioners. The 
mouey that was gathered in the country for poor-rates 
was, in 1832-4* between eight and uine millions annu- 
ally ; in 1835 it fell down to little more than seven mil- 
lions, and in 1836 it was little more than six millions. 

The Excise Office is in Broad Street, and the Cus- 
tom House in Lower Thames Street, below London 
Bridge. The Mint and the Post Office have been de- 
scribed in the first and third volumes of the ' Penny 
Magazine.' The produce of the customs and excise has 
been annually, for, the last three years, upwards of 
thirty-five and thirty-six millions. They contribute 
about seventy-two per cent, of ^he revenue. The ex- 
peuse of collecting the customs was, in 1835, 5/. 5«. 
per cent, ; and the excise 6/, 13*. 6\<L 


The fox is not able to overtake a hare in running, and 
therefore he has recourse to artifice, which he instinc- 
tively employs. In the evening, generally towards sun- 
set, the fox comes out of his hole, and creeps slowly and 
cautiously along the edge of the wood, with all the 
precaution of a sportsman, to discover if possible a 
young hare in the distance. The young hares are, 
like all young animals, very sportive, and one often 
sees them gamboling and leaping in the oddest manner 
that can be imagined, and upon this propensity is the 
manoeuvre of the fox founded. He seeks above all 
things to introduce himself to a young one not yet 
acquainted with the world. If it is a fine warm summer 
evening, the hare is very willing (supposing that be has 
not yet become acquainted with the character of the 
fox) to sport with the unknown stranger. The fox 
therefore, while at a distance, exerts himself to excjte 
the attention of the young hare. He stretches himself 
upon the ground at full length, spreads his tail upright, 
jumps up in the air, runs round in circles, and. thus 
endeavours to approach nearer to the hare, who grows 
bolder, and looks at the fox with curiosjty, and with 
a newly ^wakened desire to gambol with hhn. In this 
way the fox succeeds in. (^spiring }he hare \fritn con- 
fidence, which consequently is induced to sport with 
this deceiver, ancj to join in H$ ridiculbusj tricta and 
tne poor wretch is thus irrecoverably lost, for the fox 
takes the first safe opportunity tdi sieze it by the throat, 
and, heedless of its piteous cries, to deprive it of its 
life. A fabulist would know how to draw from this an 
obvious moral for young people, who are about to enter 
the great world. 

Mr. Jesse, in his 'Gleanings of Natural History,' 
relates as a fact that may be relied on, that in France 
a gentleman who had gone out to shoot hares one 
evening, in a very rocky district, placed himself with 
his attendant in concealment near a water-channel 
formed by the rains, to watch for the hares coming 
dowu towards the plain in order to feed. "They had 
not been there long when they observed a fo* coming 
down the gully, and followed by another. After play- 
ing together for a little time, one of the foxes concealed 
himself under a large stone or rock, which was at the 
bottom of the channel, and the other returned to the 
rocks. He soon, however, came back, chasing a hare 
before him. As the hare was passing the stone where 
the first fox had concealed himself, he tried to seize her 
by a sudden spring, but missed his aim. The chasing 
fox then came up, and finding that his expected prey 
had escaped) through the want of skill iu his, associate, 
he fell upon him, and they both fought with so much 
animosity, that the parties who had been watching their 
proceedings came up and destroyed them, both." 


[Concluded from No.3U-l 

Amongst the lay orders of knighthood which were 
formed in chivalric times, and have come down in un- 
broken succession, the English Order op the Gakter 
holds a most distinguished place. It was founded, as 
mentioned in the previous paper, in the reign of 
Edward III., when manners had arrived at that stage 
of improvement in which, while retaining so much ot 
roughness and feudal barbarity as to, give a reality to 
chivalric life, they also tinged it with gaiety and splen- 
dour. The precise cause of the origin or formation of 
the Order is not distinctly known. The common story 
respecting the fall of a lady's garter at a ball, which 
was picked up by the king, aud his retort, to those who 
were smiling at the action, of " tioni soit qui mal y 
pe/tse (Evil, or shame, to him who thinks evil hereof), 
which afterwards became the motto of the Order, has 
1 been not entirely given up as a fable. A tradition ob~ 

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tained as far back as in the reign of Henry VI. that this 

Order received its origin from the fair sex. The author 

of the ' History of British Costume,' in the ' Library of 

Entertaining Knowledge/ says, 4 ' Sir E. Ashmole, in his 

history of the Order, considers the garter as a symbol of 

unipn ; and in this opinion he is followed by Sir Walter 

Scott and Sir Samuel Meyrick. We are not aware of 

any evidence that would shake such high authority: 

but one curious question occurs to us, connected with 

the subject of our work — Costume — from whence did 

Edward derive the garter? Camden says, he gave 

forth his own garter as a signal for a battle that sped 

well, which Du Chesne takes to be that of Cressy ; but 

we have yet to learn that garters were worn by men in 

those days. No indication of such an article occurs 

upon any monument or in any illumination of the time, 

nor would it appear there was any need of such an 

assistant ; the chausses, or long hose, being attached to 

the doublet, or at least ascending to the middle of the 

thigh, where they were met by the drawers. The leg- 

baudages, abandoned in the previous century, have no 

affinfty to the short garter and buckle, which forms the 

badge of this celebrated Order. In the absence of all 

proof, however, probability is in favour of such garters 

being worn by the ladies, whose hose were in shape 

precisely the stockings of the present day*." 

The last supposition, and that of Sir E. Ashmole's, 
would appear to be easily reconcileable. The garter 
might have been selected both as a symbol of union 
and as a compliment to the ladies : for the gallantry 
of the time was not so polished as to regard such a 
selection in any other light than a compliment. 

The Order was founded " in honour of God, the 
Virgin Mary, St. George, and St. Edward the Con- 
fessor." St. George, the tutelary saint of England, is 
its especial patron and protector. How St. George 
became the Patron Saint of England, or who he was 
originally, whether a fabulous or real personage, is not 
known with certainty. Gibbon, in detailing the cir- 
cumstances connected with the expulsion of Athanasius 
from the archiepiscopal chair of Alexandria, and the 
violent death of George, his successor, says, "the 
odious stranger, disguising every circumstance of time 
and place, assumed the mask of a martyr, a saint, and 
a Christian hero ; and the infamous George of Cap- 
padocia has been transformed into the renowned St. 
George of England, the patron of arms, of chivalry, 
and of the garter." In a note, the historian adds, 
" this transformation is not given as absolutely certain, 
but as extremely probable." It is enough for our pur- 
pose to know that St. George has been long the well- 
known patron of England; — that his exploit with the 
dragon is his crowning feat of victory ; — that his name 
was invoked as "our ancient word of courage:" and 
the reader is doubtless familiar with the words which 
8 hakspeare has put into the moufh of Henry V., when 
he asks, " Who calls for more men from England ?" — 

" the game '§ afoot ; 

Follow your spirit ; and upon this charge 

Cry, * Gftid for Harry, England, and St. George I ' " 

The Order of the Garter was originally composed of 
twenty-five knights and the sovereign (who nominates 
the other knights) \ twenty-six in all. This number 
has received no alteration, except in the reign of 
George iff., when it was directed that prinees of the 
royal family, and illustrious foreigners, on whom the 
honour might be conferred, should not be included. 
The number of these extra knights was fourteen in 
1S34. The Military Knights of Windsor are also con- 
sidered as an adjunct of the Order of the Garter. 

The officers of the order are, the prelate, who is 
always the Bishop of Winchester; the chancellor, who 
» the Bishop of Salisbury ; the registrar, who is the 

* ' pistorv of British Costume— Library of Entertaining Know- 
ledge,' pp. 1&-146. 

Dean of Windsor ; with the Garter King at Arms, and 
the Usher of the Black Rod. The Chapter ought to 
meet every year on St. George's day (the 23rd of 
April) in St. George's Chapel, Windsor. (See the ac- 
count of Windsor, in No. 80 of the * Penny Magazine.') 

The original dress of the Knights of the Garter was 
a mantle, tunic, and capuchin (hood), of the fashion 
of the time, all of blue woollen cloth; those of the 
knights companions differing only from the sovereign's 
by the tunic being lined with miniver instead of ermine. 
All the three garments were embroidered with garters 
of blue and gold, the mantle having one larger than 
all the rest on the left shoulder. The dress underwent 
various changes. Henry VIII. remodelled both it and 
the statutes of the order, and gave the knights the 
Collar, and the greater and lesser George as at present 
worn. The last alteration in the dress took place in 
the reign of Charles II. The principal parts of it con- 
sist of a mantle of dark blue velvet, with a hood of 
crimson velvet ; a cap or hat, with an ostrich and heron 
plume ; the stockings are of white silk, and the garter, 
which is of dark blue velvet, having the motto em- 
broidered in gold letters, is worn tinder the left knee. 
The badge is a gold medallion, representing St. George 
and the Dragon, which is worn suspended by a blue 
ribbon ; lie nee it is a common form of speech to say, 
when an individual has been appointed a Knight of the 
Garter, that he has received the blue ribbon. There is, 
also a star worn on the left breast. 

It is not generally known, that from the first institu- 
tion of the Order of the Garter to at least as late as the 
reign of Edward IV., ladies were admitted to a partici- 
pation in the honours of the fraternity. The queen, 
some of the knights-companions' wives, and other great 
ladies, had robes and hoods of the gift of the sovereign, 
the former garnished with little embroidered garters. 
The ensign of the Garter was also delivered to them, 
and they were expressly termed Dames de la fratermte 
de 8£. George. The splendid appearance of Queen 
Philippa at the first grand feast of the order is noticed 
by Frojssart. Two monuments, too, are still existing, 
which bear figures of ladies wearing the garter ; the 
Duchess of Suffolk's, at Ewelme, in Oxfordshire, of 
the time of Henry VI., represents her wearing it on 
the wrist in the manner of a bracelet; Lady Harcourt, 
at Stanton Harcourt, in Oxfordshire, of the time of 
Edward IV., wears the garter on her left arm. 

Ashmole, writing on the habit and ensigns of the 
order, says, " After a, long disuse of these robes by the 
queens of England and knights-companions' ladies, 
there was, at the feast of St. George, celebrated an. 14 
Cha. I., endeavour used to have them restored ; for the 
then deputy chancellor moved the sovereign in chapter 
(held the 22nd May) that the ladies of the knights- 
companions might have the privilege to wear a garter 
of "the order about their arms, ami an upper robe, at 
festival times, according to ancient usage. Upon which 
motion the sovereign gave order that the queen should 
be acquainted therewith, and her pleasure known, and 
the affair left to the ladies' particular suit. The 10th 
of October in the following year (1639) the feast of 
St. George being then also kept at Windsor, the 
deputy chancellor reported to the sovereign in chapter 
the answer which the queen was pleased to give him 
to the aforesaid order; whereupon it was then left to 
a chapter to be called by the knights-companions to 
consider of every circumstance, how it were fittest to be 
done for the honour of the order, which was appointed 
to be held at London about Alhollantide after; but 
what was then or after done doth not appear; and the 
unhappy war coming on, this matter wholly slept/' 

When Queen Anne attended the thanksgiving at 
St. Paul's in 1702, and again in 1704, she wore the 
garter set with diamonds, as sovereign of the order, 
tied round her left arm. 

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[February 2S, 1837. 

The Oioer op the Bath was created in 1399, on the 
coronation of Henry IV. Bathing had been frequently 
observed previously, as one of the ceremonies on the 
making of a knight, especially when it was wished to 
do so with peculiar solemnity. It was, however, far 
from being a general observance ; for as knights were 
frequently made on the field of battle, no other cere- 
mony could be observed, at such critical times, than 
that of simple dubbing, or the accolade — that is, the 
three strokes on the shoulder, bestowed on the candi- 
date while he remained in a kneeling posture before 
the knight (generally some illustrious person) who con- 
ferred the honour. Though some knights might have 
been occasionally called Knights of the Bath before the 
time of Henry IV., it does not appear that the title was 
appropriated to a distinct order till the coronation of 
that king. " Froissart (see Lord Berners' 'Translat.' 
edit. 1812, vol. ii. p. 752), speaking of that king, says, 
c The Saturday before his coronation he departed from 
Westminster, and rode to the Tower of London with a 
great number; and that night all such esquires as 
should be made knights the next day, watcMed, who 
were to the number of forty-six. Every esquire had 
his owne bayne {bath) by himself; and the next day 
the Duke of Lancaster made them all knights at the 
mass-time. Then had they long coats with strait 
sleeves, furred with mynever like prelates, with white 
laces hanging on their shoulders." 

" It became subsequently the practice of the English 
kings to create Knights of the Bath previous to their 
coronation, at the inauguration of a Prince of Wales, 
at the celebration of their own nuptials or those of any 
of the royal, family, and occasionally upon other great 
occasions or splemnities. Fabyan (Chron. edit. 1811, 
p. 5S2) says that Henry V., in 1416, upon the taking 
of the town of Caen, dubbed sixteen Knights of the 

" Sixty-eight Knights of the Bath were made at the 
coronation of King Charles II. (see the list in Guitlim's 
* Heraldry,* fol. L6nd. 1679, p. 107); but from that 
time the order was discontinued, till it was revived by 
King George I under writ of Privy Seal, dated May 18, 
1725, during the administration ot Sir Robert Walpole. 
The statutes and ordinances of the order bear date 
May 23, 1725. By these it was directed that the order 
should consist of a grand master and thirty-six com- 
panions, a succession of whom was to be regularly con- 
tinued. The officers appropriated to the order, be- 
sides the grand master, were a dean, register, king of 
arms, genealogist, secretary, usher, and messenger. 
The dean of the collegiate church of St. Peter, West- 
minster, for the time being, was appointed ex officio 
dean of the Order of the Bath, and it was directed that 
the other officers should be from time to time appointed 
by the grand master *." 

In 1815 George IV., then Prince Regent, remodelled 
the Order of the Bath. It was divided into three gra- 
duated classes — Knights Grand Crosses, Commanders, 
and Companions. The Badge of the Order was di- 
rected by George I. to be a rose, thistle, and shamrock, 
issuing from a sceptre between three imperial crowns, 
with the motto, Tria jttncta in vno — three joined in 
one. Additions were made, on the division of the 
order, in order to mark the badges of each class. 

The Ordkr op the Thistle is, as its name (from the 
national emblem) may be supposed to indicate, a Scotch 
one, and only bestowed on Scotch noble families. Three 
of the ribbons are reserved for a prince of the royal 
family, and two English noblemen, the entire number 
of knights being sixteen, and the sovereign. The Order 
of the Thistle was founded by James V., (father of 
Mary, Queen of Scots) but it did not flourish, being 
lost sight of in the troubles and alterations which fol- 
lowed James's death. It was revived by Queen Anne 
* ' Penny Cyciopadia,' No. 207, vol. iv., p. 23. 

in 1703, who only followed out an interrupted purpose 
of James II.'s (the Seventh of Scotland). The badge 
is a medallion of gold, exhibiting St. Andrew. The 
gold collar is wrought as if composed of thistles and 
sprigs of rue. The motto of the order is, Nemo me 
impune tacessit — nobody shall insult me with impunity. 

' [Collar of the Order of St Andrew. J 

The Oudeii of St. Patrick was founded byGeorge III. 
in 1783. The Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland is the Grand 
Master. The order is composed of the king, sixteen 
knights, and six knights extraordinary. 

[Collar of the Order of St Patrick. J 

The banners of the Knights of the Garter are sus- 
pended in St. George's Chapel, Windsor, those of the 
Bath in Henry VII.'s Chapel, Westminster, and those 
of St. Patrick in St. Patrick's Cathedral, Dublin. CSee 
• Penny Magazine,' Nos. 80, 155, and 129.) 

In addition to these British orders, there are two 
in British dependencies: one in the Ionian Islands, 
called " the most distinguished Order of St. Michael 
and St. George," which was created by George I IL, 
on the erection of these islands into a government under 
the protection of Great Britain ; and one in Hanover, 
(the Guelphic Order) created by George IV. when 
Prince Regent, after Hanover was freed from French 

•»• The 0£c«r ut the HuejWy for the Diffusion of Useful KnuwMfe is ( 
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[March 4, 1837, 

The Pilchard 

[Mount's Bay, Cornwall. | 

We have now (o notice the pilchard-fishery in a com- 
mercial and economic point of view. The Rev. W. 
Borlase* observes, that " the sea is the great store- 
house of Cornwall, which offers not its treasures by 
piecemeal, nor all at once, but in succession ; all in 
plenty in their several seasons, and annually, as it were 
to give time to dispose of what is sent, as if Nature 
were solicitous to prevent any excess or superfluity of 
the same kind." The Cornish fishermen are fully im- 
pressed with a sense of the value of the fishery, and it 
is a saying among them that the pilchard is the least 
fish in size, most in number, and greatest for gain, that 
they take from the sea. Those even who reside at some 
distance from the coast are as much indebted to the sea 
as to the land for sustenance. The pilchard in its fresh 
state constitutes, with potatoes, the chief article of diet 
in the summer season, and in winter and spring the 
salted fish is substituted. The latter may be con- 
sidered rather as a condiment than an article of sub- 
stantial aliment, and is boiled along with the potatoes. 
The fish are commonly sold at a shilling per hundred 
* Natural History of Cornwall. 1758. 
Vol. VI. 

on the beach, and are sometimes as low as twenty for 
a penny. Great numbers are given away at each 
fishing station, and the poorest classes are always 
able to cure a quantity at home for the family con- 
sumption, besides obtaining a small sum for the sur- 
plus, which they retail amongst the miners and others 
It is doubtful, however, whether the ease with which 
the means of subsistence may be obtained is favour- 
able to the advancement of the population. Labour 
is most cheerfully put forth when its reward is certain 
and regular; but the fisherman sometimes procures 
much with little toil, while at other times his toil is 
nearly or altogether fruitless." Hence the facility with 
which fishermem become smugglers is as much occa- 
sioned by a reckless spirit, as by their occupation 
on the sea having given them experience of its dangers 
and a perfect acquaintance with the recesses on its 
shores which are favourable for the concealment of a 
contraband cargo. The sean fishery requires a combi- 
nation of capital and exertion which assimilates it to 
any other branch of regular industry ; and the success 
of an average of years, and not of a single year, is de- 


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[Mjlrch 4, 

pended upon. The efforts of the isolated fisherman, 
on the contrary, resemble more the industry of savage 
life ; and the varied success which he obtains is trying 
to his temper and character. Dependent upon the 
result of his exertions for a short period, his cohdition 
is more chequered than if he could rely upon a long 
period ; for in the latter, the scarcity of one time is 
made up by the abundance of another, and he is thus 
carried over each reverse to enjoy something more like 
a uniformity of plenty. 

As a source of employment, the pilchard-fishery is 
perhaps of less comparative importance than it was 
sixty or seventy years ago. About eighty years ago 
Borlase spoke of it as follows : — " It employs (says he) 
a great number of men on the sea, training them 
thereby to naval affairs ; employs men, women, and 
children at land in salting, pressing, washing, and 
cleaning; in making boats, nets, ropes, casks, and all 
the trades depending on their construction and sale. 
The poor are fed with the offals of the captures; the 
land with the refuse of the fish and salt; the merchant 
finds the gains of commission and honest commerce; 
the fisherman the gains of the fish. Ships are often 
freighted hither with salt, and into foreign countries 
with the fish, carrying off at the same time parts of 
our tin." The seans seldom belong to one person, but 
generally to a dozen or twenty different individuals; 
and the whole property, worth, with the nets and boats, 
about 800/., is divided into shares, which are generally 
held by the fishermen. A joint fishing craft, stocked 
and manned, Is called a "concern." The fishermen, in 
addition to a weekly sum as wages, receive a share of the 
proceeds of the fishing season. The amount which they 
receive in money is generally from 7*. to 10*. per week. 
The fifth are sometimes divided into eight parts, of 
which one-eighth is appropriated to the boats, three 
to the nets, and fbur to the men. A certain share falls 
to the lot of the boy, and consists of those fish which 
escape from the net when taking out the fish : these 
he secure* with a small net of his own. But the modes 
of adjusting the respective shares, whether in the shape 
of wages or profit, differs at various places. The men 
sometimes receive a smaller amount in wages and a 
larger share of the net proceeds of the fish and oil. The 
profits of the season occasionally amount to as much as 
25/. per annum, but is generally a much smaller sum. 
The fishery is said to be popular in Cornwall, as every 
one expects to be successful, in which case the profit is 
very considerable; while, taking a longer average, it is 
rather low. But perhaps a satisfactory reason for this 
may be found in the following extract from Dr. Forbes' 
work, quoted in the last Number. He says that, — 
" Owing to the great mildness of the climate in the 
winter season, the Cornish fisherman is exposed to com- 
paratively few hardships ; and being well clothed and 
well fed, and exposing himself to no Unnecessary risks, 
his health or his life but rarely suffers from the ordi- 
nary course of his employments. In the pilchard sea- 
son his exertions are often very great ; but as this al- 
most always happens in summer, there is even then 
seldom any risk of health." It is to the comparatively 
agreeable nature of the occupation that many landsmen 
become occasional fishermen ; and thus the influx of 
greater numbers has a tendency to reduce profits. 
The miners of Cornwall are many of them agri- 
culturists, and some of them are also fishermen. 
Pryce states, in his ' Mineralogia Cornubiensis f , pub- 
Ti hed in 1778, that " in St. Ives and Lelant, during 
the fishing season, they are wholly employed upon 
the water, to the great hinderance of the adjacent 
mines ; and when the fishing craft is laid up against 
the next season, the fishermen again become tinners 
and dive for employment in the depths of the earth.% 

These transitions from one •ecupatfon to another are 
occasioned by the home market being supplied with 
the exertions of the regular fishermen, while the 
pilchard-fishery requires great exertions so long- as it 
lasts, and many additional hands are needed. It is 
usually calculated that for every 100/. of capital in- 
vested in boats, nets, and in putting out to sea, about 
50/. will be required on shore in the erection or pur- 
chase of storehouses, and in curing the fish. The pro- 
prietors of each sean therefore require a capital of above 
1200/.; viz., 800/. in connexion with their operatious 
at sea, and 400/. or more on shore. Four-fifths of the 
persons employed in salting, packing, pressing, and 
preparing the fish for exportation are women. A 
number of women are employed as twine-spinners; 
and the makers and menders of nets are chiefly women 
and children, who are employed by the twiue-manufac- 
turers. Nets are also made and repaired during the 
winter by the fishermen and their families. They are 
generally supposed to last about six years, but are fre- 
quently destroyed before that time. They are often 
injured by porpoises. 'The fishermen complain heavily 
of the hardship of paying tithe of the fish which they 
take. The claims are founded upon local and imme- 
morial custom, and not upon any special enactment. 
At some of the fishing stations tithes are not paid at 
all, and are not demanded, so that the burden presses 
in an unequal manner. At Mevagissey the fish-curers 
pay 33s. Ad. per seau and one-twelfth of the men's one- 
fourth share of the fish caught ; and these payments 
have sometimes amounted to 20/. on each seatt in a 
single year. At Guranhaven, only two miles distant 
from Mevagissey, a mode of payment prevails by which 
about 71. 10*. is contributed to the tithe-owner, whether 
fish be caught or not. In some places In Cornwall ih« 
poorest class of fishermen, who gain their livelihood by 
hook-fishing, are obliged to pay tithes on their boats. 
The manner in which these deductions are made from 
the fruits of the fisherman's industry is particularly ob- 
jectionable. The agriculturist, in consequence of a re- 
cent act, may lay out his capital with renewed spirit, 
now that his tithes are commuted into a fixed charge; 
and the fisherman ought to enjoy the same advantages. 
The payments are in money, and in no case in kind. 

The demand for pilchards is both foreign and domes- 
tic. The exports are chiefly up the Mediterranean, and 
in Italy the pilchard is generally preferred to the her- 
ring; but the heavy ditties charged both at Naples and 
Venice, which are the chief markets, tend to limit the 
consumption. At Naples the duty is equal to 18*. 2d. 
per hogshead ; the freight averages from 5*. 6d. to 7s. 
The duty paid in 1832 for admission of pilchards into 
the Neapolitan market amounted to 10,000/. A reduc- 
tion of the duty would be highly beneficial to the Nea- 
politan consumer and to the Cornish fisherman. The 
price per hogshead is about 65*. at Naples. There is 
both at Naples and Venice considerable competition 
with the curers of other kinds offish. During the war, 
when the Mediterranean markets were not accessible, 
pilchards were exported to the West Indies in small 
quantities, and sold at the low price of 12s. per hogs- 
head, making, with the bounty of 8*. fid., rather more 
than 20?., out of which freight had to be paid ; but 
herrings still retain the preference in all these colo- 
nies, and the Mediterranean continues the principal 
pilchard market. The home market for pilchards is 
extremely limited, Considering the facilities of inter- 
course. Scarcely any reach London i and it is stated 
as a reason for this, that they are not agreeable to tlie 
public faste. The flavour is different from that of the 
herring, but not, perhaps inferior; the preference 
arising from the frequent uae of one fish, and the want 
of familiarity with the other. The flsh caught in tht 

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driving-nets is generally sold in the home market, 
which is almost entirely confined to the counties of 
Devon and Cornwall, 

Borlase states that the exports of pilchards from 
1747 to 1756 inclusive, averaged 29,795 hogsheads 
each year, the total value of which amounted to 50,000/. 
In the four years ending in 1784 the annual exports 
amounted only to 12,500 hogsheads ; the average being 
usually estimated at 24,000 hogsheads. In 1785 not 
more than 5,500 hogsheads were exported, the fish 
not having resorted to the coast in the usual numbers, 
nor did they frequent it during the four preceding 
years. Several hundred fishermen entered the navy 
about the year 1780, at which time we were at war 
with France. At an average of the three years ending 
with 1832, the annual export was 26,641 hogsheads, 
the amount in 1832 being 31,618 hogsheads. Prices 
depend, of course, upon the quantity taken, and aver- 
aged, with the bounty and the oil made out of each 
hogshead, about 33s. 3d. for the ten years ending in 
1756. In 1823 the average price was about 3/., ex- 
clusive of the bounty of 8*. 6d. The price has^ lately 
averaged about 85*. The difference between what is 
called a good and a bad year is of vital importance to 
the fishermen and those connected with them, as the 
result may be the circulatjpn of 60,000/. or 70,000/.; 
or, if the season prove unsuccessful, of one-half of this 
sum only. 

In 1785 the capital employed in the pilchard-fishery 
was estimated by a parliamentary committee at 212,000/. 
— viz., 'concerns' or craft, 96,150/.; stock, consisting 
of seans, nets, &c, 86,600/. ; cellars and curing-houses, 
80,000/. The fishery was considered at that time to 
be in a declining state; some of the best fishermen 
had been iuveigled over by the French, and others had 
turned smugglers. The war had aggravated the con- 
sequences of several adverse seasons, and during the 
four years previous tp 1785, the loss of capital which 
had been sustained waa estimated at 91,000/. The 
fishery was for some time in a deplorable condition in 
the reign of Charles {. The bounty, which was Is. in 
1785, was afterwards increased. The capital which 
was employed in the pilchard-fishery in 1827, when the 
bounty began to be withdrawn, is stated by Mr. Yarrell, 
on the authority of Mr. Couch, a gentleman who has 
paid much attention to the subject, at 441,215/. The 
number of fishermen in 1785 was supposed to amount to 
5500, and from 4000 to 5000 were employed as curers, 
Ac, on shore. The following succinct statement was 
communicated by Mr. Couch to Mr. Yarrell, who re- 
marks that it is perhaps as near an approach to the 
truth as can be made when absolute certainty is unat- 
tainable. The period referred to is 1827 : — Number of 
seans employed, 186; not employed, 130 — total num- 
ber of seans, 816: number of drift- boats, 868: men 
employed on board drift-boats, 1600 ; number of men 
employed on seans at sea, 2672 ; number of persons on 
shore to whom the fishery affords direct employment, 
6350 — total number of persona employed in the fishery, 
10,521 : cost of seans, boats, Ac, used in the fishery, 
209,840/.; eost of drift-boats and nets, 61,400/.; cost 
of cellars for curing, and other establishments on shore 
for carrying on the fishery, 169,175/. — total capital in- 
vested directly in the pilchard-fishery, 441,215/. The 
outfit of a sean amounts to about 800/. ; a string of 
drift-nets will cost about 6/. ; the net and the boat from 
100/. to 150/.; but this is used throughout the year for 
the other purposes of fishing. 

An opinion has been prevalent that the fishery has 
been much injured by the withdrawal of the bounty 
a few. years ago, but though the temporary effect 
may have been rather severely felt, the permanent in- 
terests of the fishery will be benefited by a return to a 

more natural system. The real interests of the fishery 
depend upon the quantity taken, and upon having 
access to the foreign market ; and it is 'quite clear that 
a bounty can have no influence in producing a favour- 
able season : and with regard to the export trade, the 
granting of a bounty is an invitation to the framer 
of the foreign tariff to impose a higher duty. The 
abolition of the duty on salt must have proved a great 
boon to the fishery, for though salt used for curing fish 
was exempt from the tax, yet the transaction was em- 
barrassed with a great number of complicated and 
vexatious regulations. The annual take being so un- 
certain, it does not appear that an extension of the 
market could be met with any great increase in the 
supply. The promotion of railroads would otherwise 
tend to benefit the fishery. Probably the most effi- 
cacious mode of rendering the pilchard-fishery more 
valuable would be the introduction of some restrictions 
respecting the drift-fishing. Carew, whose ' Survey of 
Cornwall ' was published in 1602, says, speaking of the 
sean and drift-fishing, "The seaners complain with 
open mouths that those drovers work much prejudice 
to the commonwealth of fishermen, and reap thereby 
small gain to themselves ; for, say they, the taking of 
some few breaketh and scattered) the whole shoals, 
and frayeth them from approaching the shore: neither 
are those thus taken merchantable, by reason of their 
bruising in the mesh." It must be recollected that the 
pilchard swims in large shoals, and (he effect of the 
drift-fishing is to divide these shoals, and to prevent 
them coming into the bays or near the shore, where the 
sean-fishing is alone carried on. The most valuable 
department of the fishery, that which requires the 
largest capital and constitutes by far the most impor- 
tant branch, is greatly injured. A single scan will take 
more fish at one time than all the drift-boats in the 
fishery, so many as 6,000,0 )0 having been caught, 
while a drift-boat seldom obtains more than 20,000 
fish in a night. A Cornish gentleman, who was ex- 
amined before a parliamentary committee, in 1833, thus 
alluded to the drift-fishermen ?— " They fish just where 
they please, sweeping the hays, shores, and creeks with 
their trawls, destroying, by means of their small and 
illegal mesh-nets, everything which they can scrape up 
from the bottom, great and small, old and \oung, 
seasonable and unseasonable, and in number beyond 
the powers of the human mind to calculate." The 
statute 14 Charles 11. c 28, prohibited fishing with 
drifi-uets from June to November inclusive, unless at 
a distance of one league and a half from the shore; but 
there is no police to enforce these regulations, though it 
has been suggested that this service might be performed 
by the revenue cruisers. The preservation of game is 
an object considered worthy of legislative interference, 
and it is surely time that fish, which augments the food 
of the poor, should be preserved by some intelligent 
and well-considered regulations, though we are far 
from admiring any restrictions excepting such as are 
absolutely necessary. Unless some such plan were 
adopted, it does not appear that an extended market 
could be abundantly supplied. 

The drift-fishery is carried on by boats of from eight 
to sixteen tons burden, generally manned by four or 
five men, who fish in deeper water than the sean-boats. 
The net employed is called a drag-net, or trawl, or 
trammel, from its trailing along the bottom while 
dragged by a vessel under sail. It is of a triangular 
form, fastened to a pole of various lengths, according 
to the siae of the vessel, each end being supported by 
an iron foot about ten or twelve inches in height. The 
upper part of the net is fastened to the pole, and th 
lower part trails on the ground. Thus, if the pole to 
which the net is attached be twenty-five feet long 

M 2 

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[MA.BCH 4, 

and a foot deep, it will capture all the fish which 
come within its sweep to that extent Every time the 
net is drawn up it is loaded with young fish, as the 
meshes of the net are so small that nothing but water 
will pass through them. Assuming that the net is 

drawn up twenty-four times in a day, the destruction of 
fry by one boat alone is incalculable; and wheii the 
same thing is done by many hundred boats, some idea 
may be formed o£ the enormous destruction which 
takes place. 


[The Ruins of Selinuntum.J 

On the southern coast of Sicily, abont ten miles to the 
east of Cape Granitola, and between the little rivers 
Maduini and Bilici (the Crimisus and Hypsa of ancient 
times), a stupendous mass of ruins presents itself in 
the midst of jet solitary and desolate country. These 
are the sad remains of the once splendid city of Selinus, 
or Seliuuntum, which was founded by a Greek colony 
from Megara, more than 2400 years ago. When seen 
at a distance from the sea they still look like a mighty 
city; but on a near approach nothing is seen but a 
confused heap of fallen edifices — a mixture of broken 
shafts, capitals, entablatures, and metopae, with a few 
truncated columns erect among them. On landing at 
a sandy flat, which has gradually encroached upon and 
filled up the ancient haven or port, the traveller pre- 
sently reaches a spot, called by the Sicilians " La Mari- 
neila," where are the stupendous ruins represented in 
our engraving. They seem to consist chiefly of the 
remains of three temples of the Doric order. One of 
these temples was naturally devoted by a maritime and 
trading people to Neptune ; a second was dedicated for 
similar reasons to Castor and Pollux, the friends of 
navigation and the scourge of pirates ; the destination 
©f the third temple is uncertain. A curious popular 
corruption of a classical name has given a very familiar, 
if not laughable, designation to the place. The god 

Pollux is called in Italian PoUuce ; and by an applica- 
tion of his name, derived from the temple, the district 
was called " Terra di PoUuce" the Land of Pollux. 
Out of this the Sicilians have made " Terra di Pulci ? 
literally, " The Land of Fleas" — a designation the 
place always goes by, and which (not to speak pro- 
fanely) the neighbourhood, in common with nearly all 
Sicily, is well entitled to. The size of the columns 
and the masses of stone that lie heaped about them is 
prodigious. The lower circumference of the columns 
is 31 J feet ; many of the stone blocks measure 25 feet 
in length, 8 in height, and 6 in thickness. Twelve of 
the columns have fallen with singular regularity, the 
disjointed shaft pieces of each lying in a straight line 
with the base from which they fell, and having their 
several capitals at the other end of the line. If archi- 
tects and antiquaries have not been mistaken in their 
difficult task of measuring among heaps of ruins that 
in good part cover and conceal the exterior lines, the 
largest of the three temples was 334 feet long and 154 
feet wide. These are prodigious and unusual dimen- 
sions for ancient edifices of the kind. That wonder ox 
the old world, the Temple of Diana at Ephesus, itself 
did not very much exceed these admeasurements. The 
great Selinuntian temple seems to have had porticoes 
of four columns in depth and eight in width, with » 

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double row of sixteen columns on the lateral sides of 
the cella. It is somewhat singular, from having- had 
all the columns of the first row on the east front fluted, 
while all the rest of the columns were quite plain. One 
of these fluted columns is erect and tolerably entire, 
with the exception of its capital. The fluting, more- 
over, is not in the Doric style ; for each flute is sepa- 
rated by a fillet. The material of which this and the 
other edifices were formed is a species of fine-grained 
petrifaction, hard, and very sonorous on being struck 
with the hammer. It was hewn out of quarries near 
at hand, at a place called Campo Bello,' where many 
masses, only partially separated from the rock, and 
looking as if the excavation had been suddenly inter- 
rupted, are still seen. 

A flight of ancient steps in tolerable preservation 
leads from the Marinella to the Acropolis, where the 
covert-ways, gates, and walls, built of large squared 
stones, may still be traced all round the hill. A little 
to the west of the Acropolis is the small pestiferous 
lake Yhalici, partly choked up with sand. In ancient 
times this was called Stagnum Gonusa, and it is said 
the great philosopher Empedocles purified it and made 
the air around it wholesome, by clearing a mouth 
towards the sea and conveying a good stream of water 
through it. The Fountain of Diana, at a short dis- 
tance, which supplied this stream, still pours forth a 
copious volume of excellent water ; but it is allowed to 
run and stagnate over the plain, and now adds to the. 
mal-aria created by the stagnant lake. The surround- 
ing country is wholly uncultivated, and, where not a 
morass, is covered with underwood, dwarf palms, and 
myrtle-bushes of a prodigious growth. For six months 
in the year Selinunte is a most unhealthy place; and 
though the stranger may visit it by day-time without 
much danger of catching the infection, it seems scarcely 
possible to sleep there in summer and escape the mal- 
aria fever in one of its worst forms. Of four English 
artists who tried the experiment in 1822, not one es- 
caped; and Mr. Harris, a young architect of great 
promise, died in Sicily from the consequences. These 
gentlemen made a discovery of some importance. They 
dug* up near one of the temples some sculptured metopes 
with figures in relievo, of a singular primitive style, 
which seems to have more affinity with the Egyptian 
or the Etruscan than with the Greek style of a later 
age. There are probably few Greek fragments of so 
ancient a date in so perfect a state of preservation. The 
government claimed these treasures, and caused them 
to be transported to Palermo ; but Mr. Samuel Angel, 
an architect, and one of the party, took casts from 
them, which may now be seen in the Elgin Marble 
Gallery of the British Museum. 

Selinuntum was taken during the Carthaginian wars 
in Sicily, and partly destroyed by the great Hanuibal ; 
but the city was restored, and was an important place 
long after that time. From the manner in which the 
columns and other fragments of the three stupendous 
temples lie, it is quite evident that they must have been 
thrown down by an earthquake ; but the date of that 
calamity is not known. 

The neighbouring country is interesting as having 
been the scene of many of the memorable events re- 
corded by the ancient historians. A few miles to the 
west of the ruins, on the banks of a little river, that 
now, unless when swelled by the winter torrents, creeps 
gently into the sea, was fought, amidst thunder, light- 
ning, and rain, one of the most celebrated battles of 
ancient times, in which the " immortal Timoleon," the 
liberator of Corinth, and the saviour of Syracuse, 
grained a glorious victory over the Carthaginian in- 
vaders. The events are preserved in popular traditions ; 
and the names of Mago, Hamilcar, Hannibal, Agatho- 

cles, Dionysius, and Timoleon, are common in the 
mouths of the country people, though not unfrequently 
confused with one another, and subjected to the same 
laughable mutilation as the name of Pollux at Seli- 




[From » Correspondent.] 

There is nothing more remarkable connected with the 
history of the United States, than the immense rapidity 
with which some of the present towns, cities, and vil- 
lages have started up from countries that were literally 
howling wildernesses but a few years ago. This phe- 
nomenon has been constantly occurring in the vast 
country to the westward of the Ohio river, but has by 
no means been confined exclusively to the western 
States ; for in some of the middle States, particularly 
that of New York, the rapid growth of numerous towns 
and settlements has been truly astonishing. From a 
long list of names might be selected Utica, Ithaca, 
Rochester, and Buffalo, as amongst the most con- 
spicuous in this respect; but as my present purpose is 
not to deal in generalities, I shall confine my obser- 
vations chiefly to Buffalo. It is the only port of much 
consequence on the western part of Lake Erie belonging 
to the United States. Its near neighbour, Blackrock, 
was, for a short period, its determined competitor; but 
from some cause or other, it was obliged to yield the 
palm to its more fortunate rival. In the last war with 
England, Buffalo had arrived at some little importance, 
for it was then a moderate-sized village, and possessed 
two or three trading vessels of forty or fifty tons burden 
each ; but owing to the town of Fort George, in Upper 
Canada, having, been wantonly burned down by the 
American troops, a part of the British army crossed 
over from Fort Erie and utterly destroyed the village 
of Buffalo, in the barbarous spirit of retaliation. Both 
towns were speedily rebuilt after the close of the war 
of 1812 and 1613 ; but although Fort George has re- 
gained its original size after a lapse of upwards of 
twenty years, Buffalo has not been satisfied with its 
former consequence; for at this moment it is a city 
containing 12,000 or 15,000 inhabitants. No other 
inland town in the United States, not excepting even 
Pittsburg, possesses the commercial importance that 
Buffalo does, for it enjoys nearly all the trade and 
traffic of the vast and improving region of country 
connected with the lakes to the westward. The great 
western canal, extending all the way from Albany, a 
distance of 362 miles, terminates here; so that the 
produce of the west can be discharged from the vessels 
that navigate the lakes into the splendid canal boats ; 
which, after reaching Albany, on the Hudson river, can 
be towed to New York by steam-boats, or enter the 
northern canal, which communicates with Lake Cham- 
plain, and thence by a railroad to the St. Lawrence 
river, near Montreal. Although the harbour is per- 
fectly safe when once within the bar at the mouth of 
Buffalo creek (for such the small but deep river is 
called), yet, when the wind is unfavourable, sailing 
vessels find the passage both dangerous and difficult. 
But since steam-boats became more general, the enter- 
prising inhabitants have, in a great measure, discarded 
sailing vessels ; and instead of large schooners, sloops, 
and brigs, we now see the harbour filled with steam- 
boats of various sizes, from 100 to 500 tons burden. 
The produce of foreign countries is conveyed directly 
from New York to this emporium of the west ; so that 
goods which arrive in that city from Europe, will often 
reach Buffalo in less than two weeks ; and the settle- 

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[Maach 4, 

ment« on the extreme shores of Michigan in ten days 
more. The number of steam-boats plying to and from 
Buffalo at present amounts to nearly forty ; but these 
do not comprise the whole of the steam-vessels on the 
lake, for there are a few employed on the Canadian or 
British side, besides some few opposition ones connected 
with Blackrock. Twenty years ago there was not a 
single steam-boat navigating Lake Erie. The distance 
from Buffalo to the southern extremity of Lake Mlchi* 
gan is about 1000 miles, and to those remote regions 
some of the vessels make occasional trips, supplying the 
inhabitants with such foreign merchandise as they may 
stand in need of; and in return taking away their 
surplus produce, and whatever else the country affords 
that can be made available to the trader's purpose. 
But, like all other ports situated in the region of the 
Great Lakes, Buffalo is no longer a port of entry after 
winter sets in ; for not only does the canal and the 
oreek or harbour become closed by ioe, but the adjoin- 
ing part of the lake closes to an extent of ten, twenty, 
or forty miles, according to the severity of the winter. 
The navigation generally closes early in December, 
and, except in very mild seasons, does not open before 
the beginning of May; so that there is a considerable 
portion of the year that navigation of all sorts is sus- 
pended. This of course must be a great disadvantage ; 
but as it may always be safely calculated upon, the 
people make their arrangements accordingly, and there- 
fore feel it the less inconvenient. 

The city of Buffalo stands upon a slight eminence, 
ascending gradually from the harbour towards the north- 
east ; having one wide and specious avenue along its 
centre, with various other streets branching off to the 
right and left. Unlike most of the new towns the 
buildings are generally of brick, especially in the prin- 
cipal streets ; and some of the churches and other public 
buildings are also of the same material. The banks of 
the muddy creek, which twenty years ago were a forest, 
are now formed into commodious wharfs, with ranges of 
large warehouses containing the produce of every quar- 
ter of the globe. Such are some of the rapid changes 
that take place on the American continent. Within three 
or four miles of this city there is an Indian settlement, 
containing several hundreds of the aboriginal inhabit- 
ants of the wilderness ; and although you daily behold 
scores of them loitering about in the town of Buffalo, 
yet they continue to be as distinct a people as when the 
first white settlers came amongst them. They have a 
district of laud set apart for their sole use and benefit; 
and in consideration of their warriors joining in the 
cause of the United States in the last war, and in order 
to keep them attached to that country, the American 
government allows them annual pensions, the amount 
of which enables them to purchase a variety of stone 
goods, which otherwise they would not have the means 
of procuring. They cultivate small patches of Indian 
corn and potatoes ; and some of the more wealthy and 
industrious amongst them keep two or three cows, and 
a few of the leaders possess pretty good horses. They 
fish and hunt a little, make leggins and moceasins, and 
manufacture some small coarse baskets; but upon the 
whole, they are rather a nuisance than a benefit to the 
adjoining city. 

The town of Blackrock is of still more recent growth 
than Buffalo, and the two places are only two miles 
apart. It is situated along the eastern bank of the 
Niagara river, a little below where it issues from Lake 
Erie. The bank is high and shelving, so that although 
warehouses and storehouses are ranged along the bot- 
tom of the declivity, the principal part of the town 
stands upon the higher ground at the top of the bank. 
At this place there is one of the most stupendous works 
of art connected with the continent of Ameriea, for it 

was here that the great western canal originally termi- 
nated. As it was next to impossible to bring the canal 
along the steep declivity already spoken of, and yet 
indispensably necessary that it should be supplied with 
water from the adjoining lake, a plan was adopted 
which would not only answer the desired purpose, but 
would at the same time form a secure and eligible 
harbour for vessels navigating the lake. In order to 
make the matter perfectly intelligible, it may be ob- 
served that the river at this place is 700 or 800 yards 
wide, and about twelve or fourteen feet deep, and" run- 
ning with a velocity of seven miles per hour over i 
somewhat irregular bed of limestone rock. The tur- 
moil which is caused by the rapidity with which the 
river rushes over the rocks is almost inconceivable ; but 
it seems that it was not sufficient to deter American 
enterprise. The waters of this rapid outlet had to be 
raised many feet in order to their being introduced into 
the canal; and to accomplish this object, and at the 
same time make a secure harbour, a ponderous pier- 
wall, of two miles in length, was erected in the river, 
at the distance of 100 yards from the shore, and neariv 
parallel therewith, resting the lower end of the pier 
upon an island — and uniting the lower part of the 
island with the mainland by a strong and powerfui 
barrier; by which means instead of the water falling 
rapidly, as it did in the original channel, the enclosed 
portion thereof within the pier assumed an artificial 
level ; and the canal could be supplied by a communi- 
cating loch with any quantity that might be useful. 
This pier-wall was a work of immense labour and ei- 
pense, but in spite of every difficulty it was completed. 
It is not a wall of pure masonry, but is a series of 
huge frames of timber, formed of immense trees squared, 
and firmly joined together at the ends as well as in the 
centre. These frames being sunk, and then anchored 
in their places, were severally filled with common 
stones from the neighbouring quarries, and afterwards 
filled in with pebble-stones and branches of trees and 
coarse gravel, in order that they might be as solid as 
possible. The cribs, as they were called, were about 
12 feet wide, and they would average nearly 18 feet in 
height or depth ; so that the wall of two miles in length 
would not contain less than 2,280,960 cubic feet of 
solid timber and stone; while the pressure upon the 
inner side, a few feet above the original level of the 
river, was so great that the upper parts of this immense 
fabric occasionally gave way. However, when it did 
so, the injury was quickly repaired, and the falling 
part strengthened ; so that in a short time this won- 
derful undertaking became perfectly secure. Yet after 
this beautiful harbour was completed, the trade of the 
lakes could not be drawn from Buffalo ; and at the 
present time where one vessel frequents the Blackrock 
harbour, a dozen or more enter the confined and incon- 
venient creek at Buffalo. 

There is a ferry across the river from Blackrock to 
Waterloo, on the Canadian side, which is owned by the 
respective governments of the two countries, and which 
is more frequented than any other ferry between the 
provinces and the United States; for it is the principal 
route from the States to the Falls of Niagara, which, 
for many years, has been one of the principal " Hans'* 
with the American merchants when they turn tourists, 
during a few weeks rn the hoU<?st and dustiest part of 
the summer. But Waterloo is still but a hamlet ; and 
although an enterprising individual has shown that the 
waters of the mighty Niagara might be made subser- 
vient to the general purposes to which water-power can 
be mechanically applied, yet, excepting his own single 
establishment, they are permitted to flow uselessly past. 
The fact is simply this — there is a genera] want of 
enterprise amongst the inhabitants of our North Ameri- 

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can colonies ; and the inhabitants of Waterloo partake 
of this generally prevailing apathy. 

The hamlet of Fort Erie consists of half-a-dozen 
small dwellings, besides two or three storehouses ; and 
although it is no longer a military station, there is yet 
sufficient of the original fort and its out-works remain- 
ing to render it a place of some little interest to the 
inquiring traveller. In the last war with America it 
was the scene of considerable contention ; and so long 
as it remained tenable the possession of it was eagerly 
sought by both parties. During that struggle an ex- 
plosion took place — an accidental one it was considered 
— that reduced a portion of it to ruins, at the same time 
that it destroyed a number of gallant British soldiers; 
and never since has the fort been repaired. It is de- 
lightfully situated, near the outlet of the lake, with the 
harbour of Buffalo immediately opposite, at the distance 
of three miles. The beach is a continued bed of rock, 
but falls off so rapidly that vessels of 100 tons burden 
can approach pretty near to the storehouses. Before 
a navigable channel was opened between lakes Erie 
and Ontario, by means of the Welland canal, Fort Erie 
enjoyed some carrying-trade of government stores and 
so forth ; which, after being carted from the Ontario 
vessels at Queenston to the village of Chippawa, above 
the Falls, were then boated up to Fort Erie, and there 
shipped for the settlements in the far west. But now the 
largest lake vessels pass through this wide and deep 
canal ; so that Fort Erie, as a lake port, has fallen into 
comparative neglect. The land around the fort belongs 
to the government, which prevents the few inhabitants 
from engaging in agricultural pursuits; and thus the 
primeval forests remain solitary and uninhabited. 


{Est rat ted from Latrobe't * Travels m North America?) 
The observation of a past century had shown the in- 
habitants of Maryland and Pennsylvania that every 
seventeenth year they were visited by a countless horde 
of insects of the cicada tribe, hence called Septendecim ; 
distinct in aspect and habits from those whose annual 
appearance and mode of life were understood. Though 
of a different tribe, and with perfectly different habits 
from the locust of the East (Gryllus migratorius), the 
fact of its occasional appearance, as though by magic, 
in such vast swarms, had caused it to be familiarly 
alluded to by that name. Its last appearance had been 
in 1817, and its reappearance was thus confidently pre- 
dicted for the third or fourth week in May this year 
(1834). Nature, true to her impulses, and the laws 
by which she is so mysteriously governed, did not fail 
to fulfil the prediction. On the 24th May and following 
day the whole surface of the country in and about the 
city of Philadelphia suddenly teemed with this singular 
insect. The subject interested me, and as, during those 
days, I had every opportunity of being daily, nay hourly, 
attentive to the phenomena connected with it, both here 
and in Maryland, I send you the result of my obser- 
vations. The first day of their appearance their num- 
bers were comparatively few; the second they came by 
myriads ; and yet a day or two might pass before they 
reached their full number. I happened to be abroad 
the bright sunny morning which might be called the 
day of their birth. At early morning the insect, in the 
pupa state, may be observed issuing from the earth in 
every direction, by the help of a set of strongly-barbed 
claws on the fore-legs. Its colour then is of a uniform 
dull brown, and it strongly resembles the perfect insect 
in form, excepting the absence of wings, ornaments and 
antennas. The first impulse of the imperfect insect on 
detaching itself from its grave is to ascend a few inches, 
or even feet, up the trunks of trees, at the foot of which 
their holes appear in the greatest number, or upon the 

rail fences, which ave soon thickly sprinkled with them. 
In these positions they straightway fix themselves 
firmly by their barbed claws. Half an hour's obser- 
vation will then show you the next change which is 
to be undergone. A split takes place upon the shell 
down from the back of the head to the commence- 
ment of the rings of the abdomen, and the labour of 
self-extrication follows. With many a throe and many 
a strain. you see the tail and hind legs appear through 
the rent, then the wings extricate themselves painfully 
from a little case in the outer shell, in which they lie 
exquisitely folded up, but do not yet unfurl themselves ; 
and, lastly, the head, with its antenna?, disengages 
itself, and you behold before you the new-born insect 
freed from its prison. The slough is not disengaged, 
but remains firmly fixed in the fibres of the wood, and 
the insect languidly crawling a few inches, remains as 
it were in a doze of wonder and astonishment. It is 
rather under an inch in length, and appears humid and 
tender; the colours are dull, the eye glazed, the legs 
feeble, and the wings for a while after they are opened 
appear crumpled and unelastic. All this passes before 
the sun has gained his full strength. As the day ad- 
vances, the colours of the insect become more lively, 
the wings attain their full stretch, and the body dries 
and is braced up for its future little life of activity and 

Between ten and eleven the newly-risen tribes begin 
to tune their instruments. You become conscious of a 
sound filling the air far and wide, different from the 
ordinary ones which may meet your ear. A low dis- 
tinct hum salutes you, turn where you will. It may 
be compared to the simmering of an enormous cal- 
dron $ it swells imperceptibly, changes its character, 
and becomes fuller and sharper. Thousands seem to 
join in ; and by an hour after mid-day the whole 
country, far and wide, rings with the unwonted sound. 
The insects are now seen lodged in or flying about the 
foliage above, a few hours having been thus sufficient 
to give them full strength and activity, and bring them 
into full voice. Well may the schoolboy and curly- 
headed negro rejoice at the sound ; for their hands will 
never want a plaything for many days to come ! Well 
may the birds of the forest rejoice ; for this is the sea- 
son of plenty for them. The pigs and poultry, too, 
they fatten on the innumerable swarms which before 
many days will cover the ground in the decline of their 
strength. The pretty insect — for it is truly such — 
with its dark body, red eyei, and its glossy wings, 
interlaced by bright yellow fibres, enjoys but a little 
week ; and that merry harping which pervades crea- 
tion from sunrise to sundown for the time of its conti- 
nuance, is but of some six days 1 duration. Its character 
would be almost impossible to describe, though it rings 
in my ears every time I think of the insect. Like ail 
those of its tribe, the sound produced is not a voice, but 
a strong vibration of musical chords, produced by the 
action of Internal muscles upon a species of lyre or 
elastic membrane covered with net-work, and situated 
under the wings, the action of which I have often wit- 
nessed. The female insect may utter a faint sound, 
but how I do not know ; it is the male who is endowed 
with the powerful means of instrumentation which I 
have described. Though the sound is generally even 
and continuous as long as the insect is uninterrupted, 
yet there is a droll variety observable at times ; but 
what it expresses, whether peculiar satisfaction or jea- 
lousy, or what other passion, I cannot divine. It has 
been well described by the word Pha — ro! the first 
syllable being long and sustained, and connected with 
the second, which is pitched nearly an octave lower by 
a drawling sinorzando descent. During the whole 
period of their existence the closest attention does not 
detect their eating anything, and with the exception of 

Digitized by 




[March 4, 1837. 

the trifling injury receired by trees consequent upon 
the process observed by the female in laying her eggs, 
they are perfectly innoxious. The end to which they 
seem to be sent to the upper day is purely confined to 
the propagation of their species. A few days after 
their first appearance, the female begins to lay her 
eggs. She is furnished with an ovapositor situated in 
a sheath on the abdomen, composed of two serrated 
hard parallel spines, which she has the power of work- 
ing with an alternate perpendicular motion. When 
her time comes, she selects of the outermost twigs of 
the forest trees or shrubs, and sets to work and makes 
a series of longitudinal jagged incision in the tender 
bark and wood. In each of mese she ays a row of 
tiny eggs, and then goes to work again. Having de- 
posited to the heart's content, she crawls up the twig a 
few inches yet further from the termination, and placing 
herself in a fitting position, makes two or three per- 
pendicular casts into the very pith. The duty is now 
terminated; Both male and female become weak, the 
former ceases to be tuneful ; the charm of their exist- 
ence is at an end ; they pine away, become blind, fall 
to the ground by myriads, and in ten or fifteen days 
after their first appearance they all perish. Not so, 
however, their seeds. The perforated twigs die; the 
first wind breaks them from the tree, and scatters them 
upon the ground. The eggs give birth to a number of 
small grubs, which are thus enabled to attain the mould 
without injury; and in it they disappear, digging their 
way down into the bosom of the earth. Year goes 
after year-^summer after summer; the sun shines in 
vain to them— they " bide their time !" The recollec- 
tion of their existence begins to fade — a generation 
passes away; the surface of the country is -altered, 
lands are reclaimed from the forest, streets are laid but 
and trampled on for years, houses- are built, and pave- 
ments hide the soil— still, though man may almost 
forget their existence, God does not. What their life 
is in the long interval none can divine. Traces of them 
have been found in digging wells and foundations eight 
and ten feet under the surface. When seventeen years 
have gone by, the memory of them returns, and they 
are expected. A cold wet spring may retard their ap- 
pearance, but never since the attention of man has 
been directed to them have they failed; but at the ap- 
pointed time, by one common impulse, they rise from 
the earth, piercing their way through the matted sod, 
through the hard-trampled clay of the pathways, through 
the gravel, between the joints of the stones and pave- 
ments, and into the very cellars of the houses, like their 
predecessors, to be a marvel in the land, to sing their 
blithe song of love and enjoyment under the bright 
sun, and amidst the verdant landscape — like them, to 
fulfil the brief duties of their species, and close their 
mysterious existence by death. We are still children 
in the small measure of our knowledge and compre- 
hension with regard to the phenomena of the natural 
world ! All things considered, we may venture to 
prophesy the reappearance of the Cicada Septendecim 
on the coasts of Maryland and Virginia for the year 
1851 *. I may still mention, that I took care to ascer- 
tain that all these insects sang in one uniform musical 
key, and that this key was C sharp. 

* There is one surmise of the truth of whieh I should wish to 
be assured, or hear corrected. The preceding year, 1833, 1 ob- 
served, while travelling between Abingdon and Knoxville, in 
Upper Virginia, the sudden appearance of what appeared to me 
the same species of cicada, attended with circumstances of an 
exactly similar character to those 1 have been describing. Spe- 
cimens of both were sent by me to Europe at different times, but 
I have not had an opportunity of comparing them. Little doubt 
rests on my own mind but they were exactly of the same species ; 
and what I should infer from the fact, if true, is, that however 
exactly the period of their appearance has been ascertained, they 
may stiU appear in different parts of the country in different years. 
3ut this point careful observation will soon determine. 


(Ftvm a Lecture by Dr. Conoi/y, on the Formation of Nntmrai 

History Societies.) 
After having enumerated the objects which may be use- 
fully comprehended in Natural History Societies, Dr. Co- 
nolly said :— " My younger hearers will I hope be convinced 
that among the subjects taught in such a society, and illus- 
trated in a museum, are many that will not only improve 
their knowledge, but add to their happiness ; and as they 
grow older they will experience that this noble science 
excites and improves all their highest faculties; affords 
salutary exercise to the senses, disciplines the attention, 
strengthens the memory, improves the judgment, and at the 
same time elevates the imagination, yet calms the disturbing 

fissions, and calls forth all the best feelings of the heart 
might remind them of the triumphs of this science over 
all difficulties ; of Sir Joseph Banks pursuing it when denied 
access to a distant shore visited merely for its sake; of 
Swainson pursuing it in sickness, and Haiiy in prison ; of 
Mungo Park cheered bv the contemplation of a simple moss 
in solitude, danger, and distress; of Rumphius and Huber 
following it although deprived of the blessing of sight ; of 
Limonier compelled to sell herbs, yet still studying, once 
the first physician to Louis XVI. ; of Linnsdus devoting 
himself to it in poverty ; of Ray beginning bis work on 
insects in old age (75) ; of Daubenton and of Cuvier dying 
placidly— paralyzed but still breathing — and noting in them- 
selves the phenomena of advancing death with calm and 
cheerful resignation. With the writings of many of these 
great men, however, I trust they will become well acquainted; 
and it is peculiarly delightful to reflect that of most or all of 
thera the life and death were not unbecoming of men who 
had passed the greater part of their hours in contemplating 
and describing the works of an Almighty hand, on which 
in death, as in life, they must have learned that they de- 

" The. countless institutions founded in our own time, to 
watch human beings, as it were, from the cradle to the 
grave ; to assist, in every class of life, the infant, the child, 
the youth, the man ; and to succour the weak, the destitute, 
the sickly, the . afllicted, are so many exertions of good 
feelings which we may venture to say are regarded with 
approbation by the Deity from whom those feelings came. 
All the great efforts making to diffuse instruction, partake 
of the same character, tend to the same resuX Therefore 
do I believe that the institutions of the present age, com- 
memorative of real and great improvement, are of a nature 
to remain for the example of future times, until all human 
institutions have fulfilled their office, all human labours 
have been performed, and the great book of human destiny 
is closed. 

•• Amidst these institutions, we may always reflect with 
pleasure upon those of which the object is to unfold the 
wonders of the earth— to display the beauties of the vege- 
table world — to exhibit the various forms of animal, life and 
enjoyment— to investigate the properties and influences of 
the air, and to develope the causes of disease and suffering, 
of misfortune, crime, and premature mortality, in order 
that they may be avoided, and the happiness of all rational 
creatures increased. All these seem in every way^the proper 
subjects of mans contemplation. The views they encourage 
blend with those higher views which are directed towards 
another and more glorious world, where all that is beautiful 
in sense and affection, all that is great in intellect, may yet 
be found, but amplified and raised, where virtue will be 
enlarged, and where sorrow and pain will have no place ; and 
lastly, where the soul, purified and freed, may yet be occu- 
pied in the contemplation of the endless works of God, and 
find in that contemplation new motives for obedience, for 
thankfulness, and for praise. ' 

Benefit of Machinery. —There is this immense benefit in 
machinery, that it carries on those operations which debase 
the mind and injure the faculties. A man, by constantly 
performing the same operations, becomes unfit for any 
other. Machinery requires attention, intellectual exertion, 
and bodily labour of various kinds.— Sir Humphry Davy. 

•»• The Office of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge is at 

59, Lincoln's Inn Fields. 


Printed by Wouam Clowes and Sows, Stamford Street. 

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Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. 



[March 11, 1837. 

Firb-Insurawcb, Supply of Water, Gas, Paving, Sewerage. 

[Fish Street Hill, Monument, and St. Magnui' Church, with Procession of Firemen. J 

The engraving at the head of this article supplies an 
illustration of the fact that-, however sharp and attentive 
individuals may be to their particular interests, commu- 
nities learn slowly what is best for the general health, 
convenience, and comfort. That tall column, " pointing 
to the skies," commemorates a terrible event (' Penny 
Magazine,' vol. ii. p. 342) which weeded out the narrow 
streets and lanes where the plague, in its frequent 
visits, found the 61th, discomfort, and misery on which 
it fed : yet, in spite of the warning, too many narrow 
streets sprung up on the site of those burned down; 
and the Monument on Fish Street Hill not only bore 
testimony to the great calamity which ultimately proved 
so beneficial, but seemed to rear its head over the nar- 
row streets around it, as if to say, here, at least, another 
"Great Plague," or another " Great Fire," may find 
materials on which to work. Happily, neither pesti- 
lence nor fire, in aggravated forms, has visited us 
since the latter half of the seventeenth century — thanks, 
in a great measure, to our improved municipal arrange- 
ments : but it was not till the erection of new London 
bridge and its approaches, that Fish Street Hill assumed 
the handsome appearance it now presents. It looked 
very different a few years ago. 

This leads us to take a view of a very important depart- 
ment of the social characteristics of London ; the means 
by which it is secured and insured from the ravages of 
fire; the supply of water ; of gas; the paving and the 
sewerage. On all these combined, depend a great 
many of the causes which make a city really great ; 

Vol. VI. 

not the greatness arising merely from magnificent 
public buildings or establishments, but that which com- 
municates to the mass of the inhabitants the largest 
amount of social security, of enjoyment, of convenience, 
and of comfort. In all these respects Loudon has much 
to improve: yet its inhabitants enjoy more of them in 
a single day, than the inhabitants of imperial Rome did 
in a year, with all its wonderful monuments and public 
places of resort. 

We have hitherto had no special fire-preventive po- 
lice, nor have we yet, under the direction of the govern- 
ment or municipal authorities. The law merely requires 
parishes to keep fire-engines and ladders in certain 
places, and to provide stop-blocks and fire-cocks on the 
mains of the water-works. Gratuities are also directed 
to be paid to engine-keepers, &c, who arrive earliest at 
any fire for the purpose of extinguishing it. The fire- 
insurance companies, however, have always kept up at 
their own expense a fire police. Formerly, each com- 
pany had a distinct body of firemen, who were chiefly 
selected from the watermen ; these had a peculiar garb, 
and wore the badges of the companies to which they 
belonged. They had annual processions and dinners. 
When an alarm of fire was communicated to one of 
them, he ran on to rouse his nearest companion, and 
having done so proceeded to the fire; the second went 
to alarm a third, and so on, till the whole body were 
roused. Ingenious as this was, there was a want of 
co-operation and a loss of time frequently experienced. 
The firemen pursued their usual avocations on the 

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(March If; 

fiver when not required to perform their occasional 
duties, and when an alarm of tire was raised during 
the night most of them might be sound asleep after 
the labours of the day. To obviate the evils arising 
from the employment of occasional servants, the greater 
number of the London fire insurance companies joined 
together, about four years ago, to form a permanent 
body of firemen, ready at all hours to give immediate 
attendance at fires. This is termed the " London Fire- 
Engine Establishment," and is supported at the ex- 
pense of the following fire-insurance companies : — The 
Alliance, Atlas, British, Globe, Guardian, Hand-in- 
Hand, Imperial, London, Norwich Union, Phoenix, 
Protector, Royal Exchange, Scottish Union, Sun, Union, 
and Westminster; and these have been joined recently 
by the 4t Licensed Victuallers' Society." This fire 
establishment, instead of being under distinct officers 
appointed by each company, are embodied under the 
direction of a superintendent, with foremen and engi- 
neers under him, appointed to certain stations. At 
these stations there is constant attendance day and 
night. The firemen are clothed in a uniform of dark 
grey, with their numbers in red on their left breasts. 
They wear strong leather helmets on their heads, which 
have been found of great service in protecting them 
from accidents occasioned by the fall of walls or other 
matters. The stations are in Ratcliffe, St Mary Axe, 
Finsbury, Cheapside, Blackfriars, Holborn, Covent 
Garden, St. Giles's, Oxford Street, t Golden Square, 
Portman Square, Waterloo Bridge Road, Southwark 
Bridge Road, Tooley Street ; with extra engines in 
Shadwell, Westminster, Lambeth, and Rotherhithe. 
The men appointed to this latter station have also the 
care of a floating-engine ou the river, off Rotherhithe. 
The number of men on the fire-engine establishment is 
between ninety and a hundred. 

In addition to this special fire-preventive body, it is 
the duty of the metropolitan police to give assistance 
in case of fire. In 1830 there were 380 fires attended 
by this body, and 51 lives saved ; in 1831 the number 
of fires was 324, and the individuals saved 68 ; in 1832 
there were 252 fires, and 47 saved. This does not 
include the fires which occurred in the "city" of 

Sixteen fire-insurance companies of London paid, in 
1835, upwards of 600,000/. of duty on fire insurances 
effected in their difFerent establishments. The rate of 
duty is 3s. per cent. These companies, by means of 
their branches, take the greater portion of the in- 
surances effected in Britain. Thus, for instance, the 
farming-stock insured in England in 1835, exempt from 
insurance duty, amounted to more than 41,000,000/. 
Of this amount the Norwich Union had insured up- 
wards of 8,000,000/., the County more than 5,000,000/., 
the Sun nearly 5,000,000/., and the Phoenix and Royal 
Exchange each about 3,500,000/. 


[In a previous Number of the ' Penny Magazine' (295) we gave 
some extracts from a Manuscript Journal of Francesco Cava- 
liero. We shall continue his story in two or three papers, 
connecting his narrative with such explanatory observations as 
may be necessary for understanding it.] 

In describing the hollow squares into which the French 
infantry were obliged to form in order to resist the im- 
petuous attacks of the Mameluke cavalry, our Italian 
journalist has omitted to mention a circumstance with 
which he must have been well acquainted, as he tells 
us he himself took refuge with his master's baggage 
inore than once within those squares. The Republican 
army was accompanied by a numerous troop of artists, 
antiquaries, and men of letters, as Monge, Denon, and 

others of less note, who were to make designs of th* 
temples, pyramids, and the rest, and examine a ad de- 
scribe the land of Egypt while Bonaparte conquered it. 
These civilians were all classed by the soldiery under 
the general name of savans, or learned men; and a> 
their previous habits of life had probably not fitted ihe a 
to manage the fleet and spirited horses of Arabia ar 4 fi 
Nubia, messieurs the savans all rode upon asses. It 
was very soon found that the projects they had form**-* 
were not easily executed in the disturbed state of tr# 
country caused by a foreign invasion, and that neither 
artists nor authors could safely trust themselves any- 
where unless there was a strong French force at hand 
to protect them. The savans, therefore, marched on 
their donkeys with the divisions of the army ; and as 
the Mamelukes multiplied their attacks and surprn^ 
in all directions, it became necessary for their own safety 
to subject them to some military orders and manoeuvres. 
In consequence, an order of the day appeared, stating 
very soberly, that at the appearance of the enemy the 
troops should all form in squares, and messieurs the 
savans throw themselves in the middle of these squares, 
where they would be out of harm's way. The savans 
and their asses had not escaped ridicule before, but this 
ordrc dejour, which created a roar of laughter through 
all the army, rank, and file, became the groundwork 
of innumerable jokes. Whenever an alarm was given, 
and the squares began to form, the soldiers shouted 
out, " Faites place axix anes et anr savans,' 1 (make 
room for the asses and the learned men) and these 
wicked wits accustomed themselves to call an ass, on 
all occasions, a demi-savant. Such were the sports of 
these volatile men, even when they were surrouuded 
with the greatest dangers and privations, and suffering 
and committing horrid barbarities. It appears, how- 
ever, that even the common soldiers were not indifferent 
either to the sublime objects they saw, or to the pursuits 
of the artists and men of letters, whom they cordially 
assisted in all their operations. Denon tells us that he 
drew his first view of the Pyramids on the knees of some 
of the soldiers, which served him for a table, and their 
bodies for a shade against the insupportable glare and 
heat of the sun. At Tentyra the whole army was over- 
powered by an electric emotion, and men and officers, 
without giving or receiving orders, turned aside from 
the route, and remained of their own accord during the 
rest of the day among those sublime ruins. At Thebes 
again, the whole army stopped short, in astonishment 
at what they beheld, and clapped their hands ! 

But we must turn to less agreeable subjects of con- 
templation. Sopn after his return from Boulac, Cava- 
Hero accompanied his master, Colonel Broune, in Bona- 
parte's fatal Syrian expedition and siege of Acre. His 
journal is thus continued : — 

" The two flotillas from Alexandria and Damietta 
having arrived, with provisions, ammunition, and 
stores of all kinds, in the month of February following, 
the army, which consisted of about 20,000 men*, began 
their march from Grand Cairo. We found the roads 
tolerably good for about seventy or eighty miles, pass- 
ing through many villages, and the surrounding coun- 
try being well cultivated. After passing this delight- 
ful country, we soon entered the sand-plains, where we 
encamped for a few days, in consequence of many of 
the men being much fatigued, and others afflicted with 
sore eyes : several of the latter were sent back to Grain! 
Cairo. A few days after this we continued our march 
through these plains, where we saw nothing else for 

* This number is over-rated. Bonaparte only totk ab.ut 
12/>00 men into Syria. Thoy were divided iato four divisions 
of infantry, under Generals Kleber, Regmcr, Lannes. and Bon. 
Murat commanded the cavalry, which amounted to 800. Bona- 
parte mounted a small detachment upon dromedaries, — and this 
became the source of many more jokes among the horse-soldiers. 
— Ed. 

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many miles but the sky and burning sands, which 
occasioned many of the men to murmur, and exclaim 
they could not endure the heat. At length we entered 
Syria, where we found the climate cold, with showers 
of rain,. We had not been more than two days in 
this country when the army was surprised and attacked 
by a body of Mameluke and Syrian Arabs, who sprang 
from behind the sand-hills upon the vanguard in full 
gallop, and cut a great number to pieces; then, wheel- 
ing upon the flank of the army, discharged their fire- 
arms, which made dreadful havoc upon the scattered 
parties, after which they retired again at full gallop 
behind the sand-hills. In this attack Bonaparte lost a 
great many men. After this attack the accoutrements 
of a Mameluke's horse were found, upon which there 
were nine pounds of solid gold. We had no other 
means of conveying the wounded but by placing eight 
or ten upon the back of a camel*; in this manner 
we continued our march. At length we came to the 
borders of a small river, about three feet deep and 
thirty in breadth, which we forded ; and after the army 
had crossed, we halted to refresh the men. 

"The next day we came in sight of Jaffa, which was 
immediately attacked, and the town carried by storm. 
The garrison, which consisted of about 5000 Turkish 
troops, was put to death." The siege and capture of 
EI Arish took place before the storming of Jaffa, but 
probably Cavaliero's division was not present. The 
massacre of the prisoners of Jaffa was the darkest deed 
in the life of Bonaparte. They were not cut down 
and shot in the assault and storm, but murdered in 
cold blood, some hours after, outside the town. Ac- 
cording to a more official estimate they were 3500 
strong at the beginning of the siege. Cavaliero con- 
tinues : " Here the stay of the army was very short, as 
they soon received orders to march again towards the 
Dlain of Nazareth, which we shortly came in sight of, 
and where the whole army assembled and took their 
course towards Mount Carmel, from whence a body of 
troops were ordered towards the sea-side. On their 
arrival there they were attacked by some gun-boats, at 
which intelligence the army was put in motion, and 
marched towards the town of Acre. Unfortunately, in 
this march I caught the disorder in my eyes which 
several of the soldiers had been afflicted with. The 
pain was so violent that I was unable to guide my 
horse, and at length became totally blind. The army 
arriving within two or three miles of Acre, they en- 
camped, and I was taken to one of Colonel Broune's 
tents, where I had the advice of the doctor, who gave 
me a mixture, desiring me to wash my eyes frequently 
with it, which relieved the pain much. I continued 
blind for sixteen or eighteen days. On my recovering 
my sight I observed the army was in great confusion, 
and Bonaparte quite in distress to .see his flotilla taken 
before his eyes by a British squadron. This flotilla 
came from Alexandria and Damietta, loaded with all 
kinds of provisions and stores, intended for the siege of 
Acre. One of the vessels by chance escaped, and got 
on shore, which was loaded with flour, and two brass 
twenty-four pounders, but no carriages or ammunition. 
In consequence of this disaster, he was obliged to begin 
the siege with very small metal, six, and nine, and 
twelve-pound field-pieces, and with these they made a 
breach in the wall. We mounted the breach, and got 
inside the town, but were soon repulsed by the British 
and Turkish troops." 

After this first assault, General Kleber said, con- 
"• Larrey, the distinguished surgeon in chief of Bonaparte 1 * 
army* devised means of carrying the wounded in panniers, one on 
rach side the camel's ^unch, so suspended as to give the least 
possible motion, and so constructed as to allow the sufferers to lie 
at full length. In a country where there were no carriageable 
roads, no better plan could have been adopted. The pace of the 
dromedary, when not forced into speedy is very easy. — Ku. 

fidently, Acre would not be taken. According to M. 
Miot, a commissary in the French army, Bonaparte 
began to batter in breach with only three twelve- 
pounders. The fortifications were in a ruinous state ; 
and he made sure of taking Acre as easily as he had 
taken Jaffa. That wonderful man's turn for oracular 
expressions, which he retained to the last day of his life, 
was first developed in these eastern expeditions. One 
day, during the siege, he said to Murat, " The fate of 
the eastern world is in that paltry town ; — its fail is 
the key to all my projects. Let us take it, — and then 
Damascus falls, — all Syria is ours, — and — who knows? 
— the whole Orient ! " The convoy with the heavy 
artillery was intercepted by Sir Sydney Smith ; but 
the French succeeded subsequently in landing a few 
pieces at Jaffa, which were forwarded to Acre. Djez- 
zar Pasha (who was in other respects a monster of 
cruelty), a corps of Albanians, Sir Sydney Smith, and 
a haudful of British sailors, were the heroes of the 
siege. Cavaliero continues :— 

"In the month of April following (the siege had 
begun on the 18th of March, 1799), a numerous body 
of Turkish troops made a desperate sally from the town, 
with the determination of destroying the camp; but 
they were repulsed by our troops, who made them re- 
tire again to the town, leaving a great number of dead 
and wounded on the field of* battle ; amongst the 
former we found a British officer, who was buried by 
our men with military honours. 

" We continued the siege, and again mounted the 
breach once or twice, but each time were repulsed with 
considerable loss; upon which Bonaparte was deter- 
mined to undermine and blow up the town. He put 
it in force by springing a mine, but it had not the 
desired effect, only the outer rampart being blown up. 
Both our provisions and ammunition now began to 
run very short throughout the camp, in consequence of 
which wc were obliged to kill the horses and camels ; 
and had it not been for the inhabitants of Jerusalem 
and Mount Lebanon, who now and then brought pro- 
visions and fruit to the camp, we must have been very 
much distressed for the want of provisions. Many of 
these people were very clever, and made us many 
articles we were in want of.° 

The peasantry of Palestine and all the coast of Syria 
detested Djezzar, the Pasha of Acre, on account of his 
cruelty and rapacity. At first they held the French as 
liberators, and even kissed the cannon, which they 
helped to place in battery against him. They permitted 
the soldiery to stray about the country, and helped 
them to fill and carry their water-skins. The venerable 
brook Kedron, so often named in the Scriptures*, was 
the source which mainly supplied the besieging camp, 
but its waters were found to be very unwholesome, 
causing colics and diarrhoeas, and disposing the system 
to putrid and nervous fevers. The besiegers soon lost 
the good opinion of the peasantry. According to Cava- 
liero, Bonaparte kept three small dromedary corps 
constantly on the road between Acre, Damietta and 

" These dromedaries were mounted by the soldiers, 
dressed as Mamelukes; saddles were made to fit them, 
their bridles were strings put through each nostril, by 
which the riders guided them; and in case of being 
attacked they dismounted, and made them lie down 
and the men stood behind the animals and fired upon 
their enemies, and when charged by cavalry they 
mounted again and went off in a full trot, which is so 
swift that the horse* cannot keep up with them. When 
in the sands, these animals are very useful, as they will 
cross the deserts in half the time a horse would, and 

* And Asa destroyed her idol and burned it by the brook 
Kedron, 1 Kings, ch. xv. v. 13. See also 2 Kincs, ch. xxii. v. 6, 
12. 2 Chron. ch. xxix. ▼. 16. St John zvui. v.T., Ac. 

N 2 

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[MlKH U, 

bear a long journey much better without either eating 
or drinking. A detachment of these dromedaries, with 
provisions and ammunition, was lost in the deserts, and 
supposed to have been buried by one of the whirlwind 
sands. At this time Bonaparte was so much in want 
of shot, that he offered large sums to any one that 
would bring shots of any description, either those fired 
from the town or from the English ships, not caring 
which way they were got as long as he could procure 
them, as some of them would fit the calibre of cannon 

he had ; and when sufficient quantity was obtaineo, he 
fired continually till they made a breach wide enough 
to admit eight or ten men abreast to enter. The troops 
mounted it and stood a long resistance, but at length 
were obliged to retreat, with the loss of four or five 
companies, principally grenadiers. A good rhany of 
them took refuge in a mosque, where it was supposed 
they were massacred by the Turks. General Ram poo n 
was taken on the beach, and was cut in pieces, as also 
many other brave men and officers. 


[The Male and Female Lyre-Bird.] 

The beautiful bird of which the plate at the head of the 
present article represents a male and female, is a native 
of Australia, and both from its appearance, and the 
difficulty experienced in determining its affinities, has 
attracted the special attention of naturalists. M. Vieillot, 
in his work on the ' Birds of Paradise/ figures the 
lyre-bird (jnenura ntperba, Davies in Lin. Trans.) 
under the title of Paradisea Parkinsonian^ in honour 
of J. Parkinson, Esq., of the Leverian Museum, through 
whose means he received a drawing of it ; and Shaw, 
in his * Naturalists' Miscellany,' 577, following Vieillot, 
terms it the Parkinsonian Bird of Paradise. Vieillot, 
however, was preceded in his description by General 
Davies, who, in the year 1800, with juster views respect- 
ing the bird in question, characterized it in the ' Lin- 

nsean Transactions,' vol. vi., as the type of a new genus, 
and gave it the appellation of Menura superba, which 
is now its established title. 

With respect to the affinities or natural situation in 
the arrangement of the feathered tribes, which the 
menura holds, there is considerable difference of opinion 
among ornithologists. Vieillot, as we have said, placed 
it among the birds of paradise. Dr. Shaw, in his 
* Zoology,' and Dr. Latham, in his ' General History 
of Birds, place it in the gallinaceous order, regarding it 
as allied to the curassows, pheasants, and fowls. Baron 
Cuvier, in his ' Regne Animal,' places it among* the 
" passertaux" or passerine order, (Inceuores % Vig.,) 
observing that although " its size has induced some to 
associate it with the gallinaceous group, the lyre-bird 

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evidently belongs to the patsenne order \ its toes, except 
the outer and middle, which are united together as far 
as the first joint, being separated; it comes near the 
thrushes in the form of the beak, which is triangular 
at the base, and slightly compressed and notched at the 
tip; the membranous nostrils are very large, and par- 
tially covered with feathers as in the jays." 

That the lyre-bird is not a gallinaceous bird, we have 
little hesitation in affirming; its size, as Cuvier ob- 
serves, and more especially its terrestrial habits, which 
may in some respects resemble those of a fowl, have 
contributed to the establishment of this opinion, which 
the name mountain pheasant, given it by the colonists, 
has probably helped to confirm, but which general cur- 
rency does not necessarily render true. Neither in the 
beak, the feet, nor (we may add) the plumage of the 
lyre-bird, do we recognize the characters of one of the 
gallinaceous order. On the other hand, there are 
certain genera (pteroptocus, scytalopus, and megapo- 
diux) usually regarded as forming part of the family of 
thrushes (merulidai), to which in every essential cha- 
racter the genus menura closely approximates, and 
with these it will we think be found to be in immediate 
affinity. As however our object is not to enter into an 
abstruse account of the affinities of genera, we shall 
add nothing (and much might be added) to the above 
observation, but confine ourselves to the description 
and the habits of this interesting and elegant bird. 

The menura equals a common pheasant in size, but 
its limbs are longer in proportion, and its feet much 
larger; the toes are armed with large arched blunt 
claws ; the hind toe is as long as are the fore-toes (the 
length of these being nearly equal), but its claw is 
larger than that of any of the others ; the scales of the 
tarsi and toes are large bold plates, and their colour is 
glossy black; the head is small, the beak, as Cuvier 
has described it, is triangular at the base, pointed and 
compressed at the tip ; in the male the feathers of the 
head are elongated into a crest ; the wings are short, 
concave, and rounded, and the quill-feathers are lax 
and feeble ; the general plumage is full, deep, soft, and 
downy. The tail is modified into a beautiful long 
plume-like ornament, representing, when erect and ex- 
panded, the figure of a lyre, whence the name of lyre- 
bird. This ornamental tail is, however, confined to the 
male. In the female the tail is long and graduated, 
and the feathers are perfectly webbed on both sides of 
the shaft, although their texture is soft and flowing. 
In the male the tail consists of sixteen feathers, of these 
(see the plate) the outer one on each side is broadly 
but loosely webbed within, its outer web being narrow ; 
as it proceeds it curves outwards, bends in, and again 
turns boldly outwards and downwards, both together 
resembling the framework of an ancient lyre, of which 
the intermediate feathers are the strings ; these feathers, 
except the two central, which are truly but narrowly 
webbed on the outer side, consist each of a slender 
shaft, with long filamentous bubules, at a distance 
from each other, and springing out alternately. The 
appearance of these feathers, the length of which is 
about two ftet, is peculiarly graceful ; their colour is 
amber brown, but the two outer tail-feathers are grey 
tipped with black, edged with rufous, and transversely 
marked on the inner web with transparent, triangular 
bars. The general plumage of the menura is amber 
brown above, tinged with olive and merging into rufous 
on the wings, and also on the throat. The under parts 
are ashy grey. With respect to the habits of the lyre- 
bird much yet remains to be known. Shaw, in the 
account he collected, observes that its powers of song 
are very great : — u At the early part of the morning it 
begins to sing, having a very fine natural note ; and 
gradually ascending some rocky eminence, scratches up 
the ground in the manner of some of the pheasant tribe! 

elevating its tail, and at Intervals imitating the notes of 
every other bird within hearing ; and having continued 
this exercise for about two hours, again descends into 
the valleys or lower grounds." 

It is in the hilly districts of Australia that the menura 
is to be found, and its manners are shy and recluse ; it 
is almost exclusively terrestrial, seldom taking wing, and 
when forced to do so flying with labour and difficulty. 
Dr. Latham remarks, " It is said that it will frequently 
imitate the notes of other birds so as to deceive most 
people ;" and we may here add that the musical powers 
of this bird, which we have been inclined to doubt, have 
been confirmed to us by the testimony of a gentleman 
who, during his residence in Australia, had many op- 
portunities of gaining information on the subject, and 
he assured us that not only were its own notes rich and 
melodious, but that it imitated those of other birds with 
surprising tact and execution. Mr. George Bennett, 
however, who notices the menura in his * Wanderings 
in New South Wales,' does not allude to this circum- 
stance, one of considerable importance; he neither 
confirms the statements of Shaw and others respecting 
its powers of song, nor refutes them as erroneous. His 
information is nevertheless interesting. The native 
names of the menura, according to this gentleman, are 
" beleck beleck," and " balangara ;" it is common in 
the mountain ranges in all parts of the colony of New 
South Wales, but it has been much thinned in its num- 
bers in some districts, in consequence of the tail-feathers 
of the male being saleable at Sidney, where they are 
highly valued. In the ranges of the Illawarra district, 
where it once abouuded, the menura is very rare. 

" The lyre-bird, 1 * observes Mr. Bennett, " is a bird 
of heavy flight, but swift of foot. On catching a 
glimpse of the sportsman, it runs with rapidity, aided 
by the wings, over logs of wood, rocks, or any obstruc- 
tion to its progress; it seldom flies into trees except to 
roost, and then rises only from branch to branch. They 
build in old hollow trunks of trees which are lying 
upon the ground, or in the holes of rocks ; the nest is 
merely formed of dried grass, or dried leaves scraped 
together: the female lays from twelve to sixteen eggs, 
of a white colour, with a few scattered light blue spots ; 
the young are difficult to catch, as they run with rapi- 
dity, concealing themselves among the rocks and bushes. 
The lyre-pheasant, on descending from high trees, on 
which it perches, has been seen to fly some distance ; 
it is more often observed during the early hours of the 
morning and in the evening, than during the heat of 
the day. Like all the gallinaceous tribe, it scratches 
about the ground and roots of trees, to pick up seeds, 
insects, &c. The aborigines decorate their greasy locks, 
in addition to the emu feathers, with the splendid tail- 
feathers of this bird when they can procure them." 

Dr. Latham says, " I do not find that it has been 
yet attempted whether this bird will bear confinement ; 
but if the trial should turn out successful, it would be 
a fine acquisition to ouj menageries." This hint has, 
we believe, never been acted upon ; the lyre-bird has 
not as yet been conveyed alive to Europe, which, were 
it a truly gallinaceous bird, would be no very difficult 
task to accomplish. The emu lives and breeds in our 
parks and menageries, and birds less hardy, as para- 
keets of brilliant plumage, natives of the same country, 
are brought over in abundance, and bear our climate 
well ; but, from some cause or other, the lyre-bird, of 
which skins are now imported in tolerable abundance, 
has yet to be made the subject of trial. An attentive 
observation of its habits and its food, which, were it 
alive in our menageries, would be a matter of course — 
but especially a knowledge of its internal anatomy, 
which is yet unknown, would settle the point at issue 
as to its true situation in the arrangement of the 
feathered race, and disclose its genuine affinities. 

Digitized by 




[March il, 


Dr. Urk* remarks, that u Manufacture is a word which, 
id the vicissitude of language, has come to signify the 
reverse of its intrinsic meaning, for it now denotes 
every extensive product of art which is made by ma- 
chinery, with little or no aid of the human hand ; so 
that the most perfect manufacture is that which dis- 
penses entirely with manual labour." It is within the 
recollection of very old persons when most of the 
common articles of clothing were the production of the 
hand, aided indeed by a very simple mechanic power, — 
the household spinning-wheel, which itself was an im- 
provement on the ancient distaff. No. 258 of the 
c Penny Magazine ' contains a notice of the * high- 
wheel,' which is now nearly as much forgotten as the 
distaff. It is there stated that, "in every farm-house 
the wheel was the evening fire-side companion ; and 
while the mistress or the dame was spinning fine tow, 
the servant-girl was allowed to spin * harding ' for her- 
self, after the termination of the day's labour. The 
yarn was sent periodically to the weaver, and the ser- 
vant was allowed to have a part of her own, for present 
use, woven at the end of her mistress's web, either as 
linsey-woolsey or as linen." Under so imperfect a 
division of employment as existed at the above period in 
regard to the production of linen and woollen fabrics, 
these materials were prepared by many families under 
the domestic roof, and by the same individuals for 
whose use they were intended, or by the household ser- 
vants. The inconvenience of the household system of 
manufactures may be compared to the necessities of the 
earliest stage of agriculture, when every man is com- 
pelled to cultivate a patch of ground, as the surplus 
produce raised is so small as to be incapable of afford- 
ing him entire support while engaged in some other 
useful lajxmr. The slow progress of improvement 
amongst a population whose labours are applied to 
many different objects is well known. In the most 
northern parts of Europe, there are individuals who are 
not only agriculturists and manufacturers, but fisher- 
men also ; and it is probable, owing to the severity of' 
the winter, which compels them to provide a stock of 
provisions, and to exercise some degree of foresight, 
that they are removed but little above the savages of 
North America. Where household manufactures sup- 
ply the population with clothing, foreign trade is limited 
chiefly to raw materials; and a much smaller number 
of people is benefited than if the rude produce were 
worked up into manufactured goods and then exported. 
The benefit is still greater where one country obtains 
the raw produce of another, employs great numbers in 
manufacturing it for use, and re-exports it to the most 
distant places. A single pound of cotton, which costs 
3y. 8</., is sometimes spun to a length of 167 miles, and 
the price is increased to 25 guineas. Mr. M'Culloch 
estimates the number of persons obtaining their sub- 
sistence in the various departments of one branch of 
Hritish manufactures (cotton) at from 1,200,000 to 
1,400,000, including in this number those who are 
engaged in the construction and repair of machinery 
and buildings. The domestic manufactures have been 
completely superseded by a more perfect division of 
employment, and by the aid of machinery of the most 
accurate and wonderful capabilities. The change is 
sometimes regretted, but the advantages which have 
been gained by the transition far exceed those which 
were characteristic of the former period. 

An engraving of the household spinning-wheel and 
of the first spinning-machine, which was a multiple of 
the ordinary wheel, may be seen in the * Penny Maga- 
* ' Philosophy of Manufactures/ By Dr, Uie. 1835. 

zine,' No. 274. The invention of the latter was occa- 
sioned by an increased demand which it was impossible 
to meet with the imperfect means then employed, and 
in the absence of proper co-operative power. This 
great crisis in manufactures is said to have occurred 
about the year 1760. At this period " the workshop of 
the weaver was a rural cottage, from which, when be 
was tired of sedentary labour, he could sally forth into 
his little garden, and with the spade or the hoe tend its 
culinary productions. The cotton-wool which was to 
form his weft was picked clean by the fingers of his 
younger children, and was carded and spun by the 
elder girls, assisted by his wife; and the yaru wa3 
woven by himself, assisted by his sons*." The iucon- 
venience of this system, though far less than that under 
which these domestic manufacturers did not exist at all 
as a distinct class, was soon apparent when an increased 
demand urged them beyond the even tenor of exertion 
to which they had been accustomed. The country 
weavers who had received the raw material from the 
manufacturer of Manchester, could not complete his 
work at the time required by the urgency of business. 
Looms were often at a stand for want of yarn. A 
weaver was under the necessity frequently of taking 1 a 
circuit of three or four miles in a morning before be 
could collect cotton weft enough to keep his loom going 
during the day. The weavers could easily multiply 
their numbers, but the great difficulty was a sufficient 
supply of the weft produced by the spinster. The 
weaver was often obliged to make presents to the fe- 
males in order to quicken their diligence at the wheel; 
and as others were equally anxious to obtain a supply, 
the competition for weft was unremitting. It might 
happen, indeed, that higher wages instead of stimulat- 
ing production might have a contrary effect ; the same 
sum being obtained as formerly, and in a shorter space 
of time, the rest could be wasted in idleness. At all 
events the manufacture was in a very uncertain and 
unsatisfactory state, and little reliance could be placed 
on the execution of orders. The invention of the spin- 
ning-machine (for an engraving of which see ' Penny 
Magazine,' No. 274) was the result of attempts to sur- 
mount these difficulties. The first steam-engine con- 
structed for a cotton-mill was made by Mr. Watt in 
1785, and it was not until four years afterwards that 
steam-power was applied to the same purpose in Man- 
chester. In 1764 the imports of cotton did not amount 
to 4,000,000 lbs. In 1785 the quantity of cotton im- 
ported for use into the United Kingdom was 17,992,833 
lbs. ; in 1835, only fifty years afterwards, the quantity 
imported amounted to 363,702,968 lbs., being an in- 
crease of upwards of 2000 per cent. In 1790 the 
total value of manufactured cotton goods exported 
was 1,662,369/.; in 1835 the total value exceeded 
22,000,000/. The total value of the goods manufac- 
tured both for the home and foreign market is esti- 
mated at 34,000,000/., and the capital employed at the 
same sum. This immense and rapid revolution in the 
industry of the country has effected social alterations, 
the extent and nature of which have scarcely yet been 
thoroughly investigated. Doubts have been expressed 
as to whether the change has been beneficial, but there 
can be no doubt that it was inevitable; and as every 
state of society is attended with some peculiar difficul- 
ties, there is no reason to believe that those by which 
our present advanced condition is accompanied are a 
reasonable subject of complaint, when compared with 
the peculiar disadvantages of the state of society by 
which it was preceded ; and taking a fair and reason- 
able view of the two periods, the present seems to be 
the most preferable. 
The inconvenience of the household system of manu- 

* * History of the Cotton Manufacture of Great Britain.' By 
Dr. Uie. . T ' 

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facture has already been adverted to as indicating an 
imperfect application of labour; and the impractica- 
bility of the domestic manufacturer ever being: able to 
supply the demands of an extensive home and foreign 
demand, even when he had in some measure separated 
his occupation from that of a cultivator of the ground, 
has been demonstrated by the facts which have been 
piven illustrative of the progress of the trade since the 
domestic system has been opposed by that which has 
now obtained for itself a clear and almost unlimited 
field; the efforts of mental power, manual ingenuity, 
ond mechanical capability being all wrought up to the 
highest state of perfection, and directed to the accom- 
plishment of one object. The system under which this 
is accomplished is called the " Factory System." 

Before noticing the characteristics, and some parts 
of the economy, of the factory-system, it may be inte- 
resting to regard it in its rudest state. The contrast 
between one of the great factories at Manchester, Stock- 
port, or Belper, will be found striking indeed when 
compared with the cow-houses in which the poor lace- 
makers of Normandy assemble in order to perform their 
task with more comfort than they could obtain at their 
own fire-sides. Mr. St. John, in his ' Journal of a 
Residence in Normandy/ gives the following account 
of this mode of procuring warmth : — <c At Lions-sur- 
Mer, and other villages on the sea-coast, the lace-makers 
take refuge in the cow-houses, where the breath of the 
cattle diffuses an agreeable warmth through the build- 
ing. They agree with some farmer, who has several 
cows in warm winter-quarters, to be allowed to carry 
on their operations in company with the c milky 
mothers.' The cows are tethered in a row, on one 
side of the apartment ; and the lace-makers are seated 
cross-legged upon the ground, on the other, with their 
feet buried in straw. Opposite each girl, in a small 
niche in thie wall, is a candle placed behind a clear 
hemispherical bottle, the flat side of which is towards 
the candle, and the globular one towards the kuitter. 
This bottle is filled with water, and throws a small 
stream of strong, pure, white light upon the cushion, 
which renders the minutest thread of the lace more 
visible, if possible, than by day. These cow-houses 
being generally too dark to allow of their ever working 
without candles, and the cattle being sometimes out in 
ihe fields by day, the lace-makers prefer working all 
night. Numbers of young men, of their own rank, 
resort to these cow-houses, and sit or lie down in the 
straw, by the cushions of their sweethearts, and sing, 
tell stories, or say soft tilings all night, to cheer them 
in their labours. The cure* of the place, anxious lest 
the morals of his pretty parishioners should suffer, has 
more than once endeavoured to keep away the lovers, 
but in vain." Mr. St. John adds that to avoid all real 
ground for scandal, the mothers and elderly female 
relations of many of the girls remain with them all 
night, pursuing the same occupation. The factory 
workers of Lancashire will smile at this imperfect re- 
semblance to the system with which they are acquainted, 
and at the waste of labour and want of comfort by 
which it is attended. But even the lace-makers ot 
Normandy enjoy a superior condition to that of the 
band-loom workers of some parts of England. These 
unfortunate individuals often work sixteen hours a day, 
with scarcely any relaxation, for the small pittance of 
6*. or 7#. a week. Their dwellings are miserable in 
the extreme ; the floor often damp and unpaved ; and 
they scarcely possess any furniture. It is satisfactory 
to learn dint this class of workmen, having at length 
been convinced of the impossibility of competing With 
steam-power and the most perfect machinery, have been 
gradually relinquishing their wretched occupation, and f 
obtain higher wages in the factories. The cruel tran- 
sition which these men have endured, would have been. 

far less protracted if attempts had not been made to 
attribute their distress to other causes than that which 
evidently arose from the constantly increasing compe- 
tition with the power-loom. So lately as 1813 the 
number of hand-looms in Great Britain was not more 
than 2,400; in 1820 tbey had increased to 14,150 ; in 
1829 to 55,500; and in 1835 to 116,801. The trade 
of the hand-loom weaver was learned without much 
difficulty, and on any fluctuation in agriculture or in 
handicraft employments, many individuals who had 
learned the art of weaving at an early period of their 
lives, fell back upon it as a temporary resource ; and 
thus, independent of the progress of the power with 
which they were in competition, and which, in the 
nature of things, must necessarily triumph at last, their 
wages were kept low by the facility with which indi- 
viduals could leave their usual occupation, and resort 
to weaving in any occasional emergency. The struggle 
was also protracted by the flourishing state of the 
cotton trade, which rendered even the powers of ma- 
chinery inadequate to supply the demand of extending 

The truth is, that employments which are least aided 
by mechanical power, which only call forth the rudest 
elements of labour, the straining of muscles and of 
sinews, are more exhausting in their effects, are not 
paid so well, are subject to greater fluctuations, and 
less valuable to society in an economic point of view, 
than when they are assisted by machinery. The work- 
man then becomes a more intelligent agent amidst the 
processes which are going on around him, and he ex- 
changes incessant exertion for the less laborious and 
more intellectual operation of directing and superin- 
tending an inanimate power which seems almost obe- 
dient to his will, and like an untiring servant never 
grows fatigued in his service. There can be no doubt, 
notwithstanding some disadvantages which are perhaps 
not necessarily incidental to the factory system, and 
which time and increased knowledge and intelligence 
may lessen, that its moral effects have on the whole 
been beneficial, and that it has sustained the popula- 
tion in a higher condition than they could have reached, 
had that system never existed. We are not, therefore, 
disposed to regret that the domestic manufactures have 
been superseded. Our own population are not only 
better and more cheaply Supplied than they could have 
been under the household system of manufacture, but 
we are enabled to supply the markets of nearly the 
whole world with the products of our surplus industry ; 
and the value of the exports of cotton goods alone has 
been raised to a higher amount than that of every 
description of exported manufactures and produce pre- 
vious to the existence of the factory system, and when 
the aid of machinery was not extensively employed. 

According to official returns, published in 1834, the 
total number of factories, of all kinds, in the United 
Kingdom was 3236, and the number of persons em- 
ployed within them was 355,373. The following sum- 
mary of the returns shows the extent and importance 
of each branch of the great textile manufactures : — 
Cotton Factories, 1304 Persons employed, 220,134 
Wool ,, 1322 ,, ,, 71,274 

Silk ,, 263 ,, ,, 30,682 

Flax ,, 347 ,, ,, 33,233 

Lancashire is the great seat of the cotton-manufacture, 
and contains more than one-half of the cotton factories 
of the United Kingdom, the number being 715, and 
the total number of persons employed in them 122,415. 
There are 159 factories in Scotland; 126 in the West 
Riding of Yorkshire; 116 in Cheshire; and 92 in 

The following statements, illustrative of the condi- 
tion of factory workers, and the moral economy of the 
factory system* are chiefly taken from recent works ot 

Digitized by 




[March ir, 1837. 

authority on the subject *. The cotton-spinner has not 
to serve a tedious apprenticeship, and he has not ex- 
pensive tools to provide. His capital consists of skill, 
intelligence, and industry ; and yet, as Dr. Ure re- 
marks, the lowest wages which he receives are 4< nearly 
three times those of a farm-labourer or hand-weaver 
for as many hours' occupation, and for much severer 
toil." Wages form a small part only of the manu- 
factured article, and the workmen being employed in 
connexion with costly machinery, their wages are sus- 
tained at a high rate. The quality of the work per- 
formed being of the utmost importance to the manu- 
facturer, it is his interest to maintain this high scale, 
as the saving in wages would be ill compensated by the 
deteriorated quality of the work on which the spinner 
is employed. Instances are nowhere so common as 
in the manufacturing districts of workmen becoming 
opulent proprietors. The great capitalists who are en- 
gaged in the cotton tracje are constantly in need of the 
services of intelligent men, of steady and industrious 
habits; and when they discover such, their progress 
from overlookers to managers, or other offices of trust, 
and afterwards to a lucrative connexion as partners, is 
frequently the work of a few years. A spinner reckons 
the charge of a pair of " mules " (spinning machines) 
us good as a fortune, which he may enjoy during his 
life if his conduct be good ; and there is scarcely any 
man connected with a factory who may not (if he have 
the necessary resolution and good sense) obtain a com- 
fortable independence. The department of labour in a 
cotton factory which is the worst paid is that in which 
mechanical power is wholly dispensed with. This 
species of work consists in " batting" cotton by hand, 
for fine spinning, something in the same manner that 
corn is threshed with a flail. It is performed by 
women, and does not bring them more than 6.*. 6d. 
weekly ; while women and children, who attend to some 
process in which the exercise of the mind is substituted 
for that of the muscles, receive double the sum. The 
more refined the labour in factories is made, the lighter 
and pleasanter it becomes. The steam-engine is ever 
at work, but the labour of the attendant is occasional 
only, — joining breaking threads and other similar 
operations being his chief business. This is the occu- 
pation of three-fourths of the children employed at the 
mules in cotton factories. Mr. Tufnellt, one of the 
Factory Commissioners, says, — " When the carriages 
of these have receded a foot and a half or two feet from 
the rollers, nothing is to be done, not even attention is 
required from either spinner or piecer." Both of them, 
says Dr. Ure, stand idle for a time, and in fine spin- 
ning, particularly, for three-quarters of a minute or 
more. A child who remains at this work twelve hours 
has nine hours of inaction ; and if he attends two mules, 
six hours. Spinners sometimes employ the iuterval in 
the perusal of books. A male spinner told Mr. Tuf- 
nell that, in this manner, he had read through several 
books. The successive improvements introduced into 
the machinery, which have enabled the spinner to ac- 
complish more work in a shorter space of time, instead 
of having had the effect of reducing his wages, has 
increased them. Dr. Ure states that, in 1829, the 
spinner turned off 312 lbs. of yarn in the same time 
that he now takes to turn off 648. The rate per lb. 
was 4«. Id. in 1829, and 2s. bd. in 1835; but 648 lbs. 
being wrought off in the same space of time which 
formerly was required for working off 312 lbs., the sum 
received is 292*. more than was obtained in 1829. He 
has therefore largely participated in the advantages of 
improved machinery. The time of working in cotton- 
mills in Manchester is less, by about one hour daily, 

* Dr. Ure's works, previously quoted. < Progress of the Nation,' 
by G. R. Porter, Esq. « Reports of Factory Commissioners.' 
f ' Report of Factory Commissioners.* 

than in the factories either of Europe or America. 
None of the mills were worked during the night when 
Dr. Ure made his survey of the Manchester factories. 
The hours of labour are, generally, less than they wen 
a few years ago. 

The structure in which tne cotton manufacture b 
carried on, the factory, with the machinery which it 
contains, does not cost much less than 100,000/. It k 
made fire-prooT, and the height is usually carried to 
seven stories. The apartments are warmed by the 
steam generated by the engines which put the whole 
machinery in motion, which is diffused by cast-iron 
pipes seven or eight inches in diameter. A system of 
ventilation, more perfect than anythiug which until very 
recently has been applied to the House of Commons, is 
constantly kept up. The foul air is extracted by ex- 
centric fans, making 100 revolutions in a second, and 
they not only ensure a constant renewal of the atmo- 
sphere, but prevent the ingress of impure air from with- 
out. The labour of ascending to the uppermost storks 
of so lofty a building is avoided by the teagle, a machine 
for hoisting goods or workmen, described in the * Penny 
Magazine,' No. 212. The mere advantage of shelter 
which a well-aired and thoroughly warmed factory 
affords would be highly appreciated by the lace-makers 
of Lions-sur-Mer ; and it might be conceived that not 
a single hand -loom weaver could be found who would 
not gladly enter the factory, where, in addition to the 
comfort which he would meet with, the rate of wages b 
a great deal higher, aud the labour much less. There 
is, however, an obstacle which is a bar to the apparently 
agreeable transition. The industry of the manual la- 
bourer is discontinuous, that is, it depends upon the 
caprice of the workman, who is perfect master of his owa 
actions. He can give over his occupation at any mo- 
ment, and, taking hand-weavers generally, the average 
work which they turn off in a week seldom exceeds 
one-half of what their looms could produce if kept 
continuously in action like the machinery of a factory. 
Dr. Ure was told by a warehouseman in Manchester, 
who employed 1800 weavers in the neighbouring dis- 
tricts, that they seldom brought him in 2000 pieces per 
week ; whereas they could, if they had laboured steadily, 
have manufactured 9000 pieces. Mr. Strut t, of Helper, 
also mentioned to Dr. Ure a fact which confirms the 
preceding opinion. Finding that much distress existed 
in a village of stocking- weavers, in his neighbourhood, 
he invited a number of the most necessitous families to 
participate in the higher wages and steadier employ- 
ment of the spinning-mills at Bel per. They were at 
first highly delighted with the change, but their irre- 
gular habits of work were soon after displayed, and 
they subsequently returned to their wonted mistaken 
independence and consequent poverty. The regularity 
required in the factories tends to check the intemperate 
use of ardent or fermented liquors ; as habits of in- 
toxication would unfit a man for attending upon the 
delicate processes of the spinning-machines. Regular 
application of a man's powers are absolutely essential 
when they act in concert with machinery, and the task 
is not easy for individuals who have been accustomed 
to desultory labour; but the difficulty is soon con- 
quered when a determined attempt is made to secure 
the advantages of factory employment. In another 
paper we shall notice the factory system in couuexion 
with the advantages which it ofTers to the unemployed 
labourers of some of the agricultural districts. 

%• The Office of the Society fur tlie Diffusion or Uieful Knowledge is at 
W, Lincoln's Inn Fields. 


Printed by William Clo\te9 ami Sons, Stamford Street. 

Digitized by 




Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. 



[March 18, 1837. 

The Sprat. 

[Sprat- Boat, fishing off Purfleet on the Thames.] 

Many eminent naturalists have been induced to regard 
the sprat as the young of the herring and pilchard ; 
but a minute investigation would have proved that the 
sprat is a distinct species, and the error could only have 
arisen from their having been deceived by the unscientific 
manner in which fishermen apply names. In Scotland 
the sprat is called the garvie herring. The features, 
however, in which it differs from the herring or pilchard 
are so obvious, that they may be ascertained even during 
the darkest nights. In the pilchard, the line of the 
abdomen is smooth ; and in the herring this part is not 
serrated ; but in the sprat the line of the abdomen con- 
sists of a strongly serrated edge, from which difference 
it may be safely concluded that the sprat is a distinct 

[The Sprat— -Ciupea Sprattus.] 

speci«s. The sprat is about six inches in length and 
above an inch in depth ; colour of a dark blue and 
silvery white, with green reflections. The sprat is 
taken in the Forth, near Edinburgh, and on the eastern 
coast of Ireland, from Cork to Belfast. It is rarely 
Vol. VI. 

met with on the south-western coasts of England, but 
is found on the Norfolk, Suffolk, Kent, and Essex coasts 
in large shoals. Like the herring and pilchard the sprat 
moves in shoals, the course of which appears equally 
capricious with its congeners, resorting to one part of 
the coast for a number of seasons, and afterwards sud- 
denly deserting it, and unexpectedly appearing where 
their visits had previously been rare. In the summer 
months the sprat inhabits the deep water, and is then 
in roe. It is in the highest perfection as food when the 
season for fresh herrings has closed ; and during No- 
vember, and three or four succeeding months, an abun- 
dant supply is always to be obtained at Billingsgate 
market ; where the retail dealers, and those who keep 
a stall in the public street, or carry the fish in baskets 
into every part of the metropolis, purchase their stock. 
There perhaps is not any fish which is an object of such 
general consumption as the sprat. The quality and 
flavour are much relished, and the abundant supply 
renders it an article of diet with the poor as well as 
with the rich. The sprat is too small for curing on the 
same extensive scale as the herring and pilchard ; but 
it is pickled in various ways, and sometimes in a manner 
resembling anchovies ; to which, however, it is greatly 
inferior, owing to the insoluble nature of the bones. 
Besides its use as food, the sprat has, within the last 
few years, been extensively employed as a manure, and, 
under some Judicious regulations, the demand for this 

Digitized by 




[Sf AfcCfi Is, 

purpose might probably benefit the fishermen without 
diminishing, to an injurious extent, the quantity re- 
quired for consumption as food. 

In Sir Humphry Davy's ' Elements of Agricultural 
Chemistry,' a work with which it is to be regretted 
farmers are so seldom acquainted, the following account 
is given of the use of fish as a manure : — " Fish," ob- 
serves this eminent chemist, ** forms a powerful manure, 
in whatever state it is applied; but it cannot be 
ploughed in too fresh, though the quantity should be 
limited. Mr. Young records an experiment, in which 
herrings spread over a field, and ploughed in for wheat, 
produced so rank a crop that it was entirely laid before 
harvest. The refuse pilchards in Cornwall are used 
throughout the county as a manure with excellent 
effects. They are usually mixed with sand or soil, and 
sometimes with sea-weed, to prevent them from raising 
too luxurious a crop. The effects are perceived for 
several years. In the fens of Lincolnshire, Cambridge- 
shire, and Norfolk, the little fish called sticklebacks are 
caught in the shallow waters in such quantities, that 
they form a great article of manure in the land border- 
ing on the fens. It is easy to explain the operation of 
fish as a manure. The skin is principally gelatine, 
which, from its slight state of cohesion, is readily solu- 
ble in water; fat or oil is always found in fishes, either 
under the skin or in some of the viscera, and their 
fibrous matter contains all the essential elements of 
vegetable substances. Amongst oily substances blub- 
ber has been employed as manure. It is most useful 
when mixed with clay, sand, or any common soil, so as 
to expose a large surface to the air, the oxygen of which 
produces soluble matter from it. Lord Somerville used 
blubber with great success at his farm in Surrey. It 
was made into a heap with soil, and retained its power 
of fertilizing for several successive years. The carbon 
and hydrogen abounding in oily substances fully ac- 
count tor their effects, and their durability is easily- 
explained from the gradual manner in which they 
change by the action of air and water." The quantity 
of sprats used as manure now amounts, it is believed, 
to many thousand tons each year. The price varies 
from lOd. to Is. 3<f., and sometimes has been as high 
as Is. 6rf., per bushel. In 1829 large quantities were 
purchased at 6d. per bushel. About forty bushels per 
acre is the quantity usually applied. Barge loads, 
containing 1500 bushels, were sent up the Medway to 
Maidstone in 1829, and the hop-grounds were abun- 
dantly manured ; and so near London as Dart ford the 
farmers stimulated the land with this species of manure. 
The fishing-season commences in November, and the 
foggy and gloomy nights which prevail at that period, 
are considered most favourable to the fishermen. The 
finest fish are caught in the same manner as mackerel, 
but the largest quantities are taken by the stow-boats, 
manned with five or six men. Mr. Yarrell (p. 123, 
vol. ii. • British Fishes') gives the following descrip- 
tion of this mode : — " The stow-boat net goes with two 
horizontal beams : the lower one, twenty-two feet long, 
is suspended a fathom above the ground; the upper 
one, a foot shorter in length, is suspended about six 
fathoms above the lower one. To these two beams, or 
" balks," as they are called, a large bag net is fixed, 
towards the end of which, called the hose, the mesh is 
fine enough to stop very small fry. The mouth of the 
net, twenty-two feet wide and thirty-six feet high, is 
kept square by hanging it to a cable and heavy anchor 
at the four ends of the beams. The net is set under 
the boat's bottom ; and a rope from each end of the 
upper beam brought up under each bow of the boat, 
raises and sustains the beam, and keeps the mouth of 
the net always open, and so moored that the tide carries 
everything into it. A strong rope, which runs through 
an iron ring at the middle of the upper beam, and is 

made fast to the middle of the lower beam, brings boia 
beams together parallel, thus closing the mouth of the 
net when it is required to be raised." The meshes of 
the net are so small, that a pen could Scarcely be hi- 
serted in them, and nothing but water will pass through. 
Hence the destruction of small fry is immense, and it 
is alleged that the scarcity of tutbots, brills, soles, and 
other fish in those parts of the coast where they were 
once abundant is occasioned by the stow-boats. Some 
of the fishermen state that about twenty years ago 
large quantities of soles and a few turbots were caught 
off the coast of Kent without difficulty, but that these 
fish have now become scarce, and the fishermen are 
not in consequence so well off. They date the com- 
mencement of this change from the Peace of 1815. 
Now the discharge of great numbers of seamen at this 
period would have had a powerful effect on the interests 
of the fishermen independent of any other cause, as 
many who had served in the navy during the war 
would return to their former pursuits. Many other 
branches of industry were also affected from the influx or 
additional numbers at this time ; and when depression 
ensued, the cause of the fluctuation not being always 
calmly sought for, was attributed to circumstances 
which in reality had little relation to the change. De- 
structive as the stow-boat system is, there are some 
fishermen who, taking into consideration the prolific 
nature of fish, doubt whether production is very inju- 
riously diminished by it. Some years fish are more 
abundant than others, but the stow-boat fishing is 
nearly as active one year as another, and therefore some 
other agency must be in operation, to which abundance 
or scarcity is owing. The destruction complained ot 
is not altogether unattended with advantages, for a cheap 
means of increasing the supply of another species of 
food is obtained ; and many fishermen are employed. 
Nevertheless, as the stow-boat system does occasion 
considerable destruction to the young fry, the extent ot 
the injury deserves to be carefully investigated by 
scientific men, more especially in connexion with tht 
manner of obtaining fish for manure. A committee of 
the House of Commons on the British Channel Fisheries, 
which sat in 1833, made the following observations on 
this point, and recommended some interference: — 
" This branch of fishing (it is observed in the Report) 
has greatly increased, and there are at present from 
400 to 500 boats engaged in stow-boating on the 
Kentish coast only, which remain upon the fishing- 
grounds frequently for a week together, not for the 
purpose of catching sprats, orany other fish to be sold 
as food in the market, but until they have obtained full 
cargoes of dead fish for the purpose of manuring the 
land. Now from the very destructive nature of ihis 
fishery, its being of modern introduction, and consider- 
ing also the almost boundless extent to which a demand 
for its produce may be carried, if the system be per- 
mitted to continue without restriction, your committee 
have been inclined to question whether its further 
prosecution ought not to be entirely prevented ; but 
upon the best consideration which they have been able 
to give to the subject, they recommend that at least it 
should not be permitted to be carried on with ground 
or drag-nets, between the 1st of April and the last day 
of November in every year; nor with drift or floating 
nets in the bay during the breeding season, namely, 
from the 1st day of May to the last day of August, 
within a league of the low-water mark, or in less than 
ten fathoms water ; nor at any other time with nets of 
so small a mesh as is now generally used." None of 
these recommendations have yet been adopted. In the 
last session a bill was brought in, one of the objects of 
which was to prevent the destruction of the brood and 
spawn offish. It was proposed that obsolete laws still 
in force, but not acted upon, should be embodied in a 

Digitized by 





single act, and that conservators of the fisheries should 
be appointed, from among the fishermen themselves, 
whose duty it should be to see that infractions of the 
law were not committed. This bill, however, did not 
go through the necessary stages, and the evil com- 
plained of still remains without a remedy. 

The stow-boat fishermen are usually joint-proprietors, 
having larger or smaller shares in proportion to their 
means. The principal owner, for instance, possesses 
three shares, and is at the cost of keeping the boat, 
nets, and other materials in repair ; the master takes 
a share and a half; the next man a share and a quarter ; 
and if there be another man he has a single share ; or 
if his place is supplied by an older apprentice, a share 
is allotted to him, and a three-quarters or one-half 
share to the youngest apprentice. The proceeds are 
generally divided into seven and a half or eight shares. 

Paving, Lighting, Water, Sewers. 
Some parts of the streets of London were paved at an 
early date — as Holborn in 1417, other parts of the city 
in the succeeding century, and Smithfield in 1614. The 
streets which were directed to be paved in 1539 were 
described to be" very foul, and full of pits and sloughs, 
very perilous and novous, as well for the King's subjects 
on horseback as on foot, and with carriages." But 
down to the year 1762, London generally could not be 
said to be paved. The streets were generally "ob- 
structed with stalls, sheds, sign-posts, and projections 
of various kinds ; and each inhabitant paved before his 
pwn door in such manner, and with such materials, as 
pride, poverty, or caprice might suggest: there were no 
trothirs; the footway was exposed to the carriage-way, 
except in some of the principal streets, where they were 
separated by a line of posts and chains." In 1762 the 
Westminster Paving Act passed, from which we may 
date all those improvements which have contributed to 
make London, as far as comfort and convenience are 
concerned, the finest, as it is the most populous, city in. 
the world. 

Jonas Han way was an active advocate and promoter 
of the Westminster Paving Act. Jn his life, by Pugh, 
it is said, " It is not easy to convey to a person w}io has 
not seen the streets of this metropolis, before they were 
uniformly paved, a tolerable idea of their inconveniepce 
and unseemliness. The carriage-ways were full of 
cavities, which harboured water and filth. The signs, 
extending on both sides of the way into the streets, at 
unequal distances from the houses, that they might not 
intercept each other, greatly obstructed the view, and, 
which is of more consequence in a crowded city, pre- 
vented the free circulation of the air. The footpaths 
were universally incommoded, even where they were so 
narrow as only to admit of one person passing at a tirne, 
by a row of posts set on edge next the carriage way. 
* * * How comfortless must have been the sensations 
of an unfortunate female, stopped in the street on a 
windy day, under a large old sign loaded with lead and 
iron, in full swing over her head, and perhaps a torrent 
of dirty water falling near her from a projecting spout, 
ornamented with the mouth and teeth of a dragon ! 
These dangers and distresses are now at an end, and 
we may think of them as the sailor does of the storm 
which has subsided ; but the advantages derived from 
the present uniformity and cleanliness of our streets can 
be known in their full extent only by comparing them 
with the former inconveniences." 

There are no published details from which we can 
learn the extent of the pavements of London, or the 
annual expense of maintaining them. The manage- 
ment of them is in the hands of a great number of 

Boards, each having particular districts, and acting 
under various acts of Parliament. Mr. Williams, in 
his work on * Subways,' taking for data the published 
accounts of the "city," and supposing it to be one- 
fourth of the entire metropolis, makes a conjectural 
calculation that the amount annually collected and ex- 
pended on the streets of London is 216,000/. 

The reader is aware that most of the great continental 
cities are very indifferently supplied with foot-pave- 
ments. Paris, for instance, though it has been very 
much improved since the Peace, is still "very perilous 
and novous" to a London pedestrian of the present 

We have given, in the first of these series of papers, 
some particulars respecting the state of the streets of 
London before they were generally lighted. Beck man, 
speaking of the time when the city was lighted with oil 
lamps, before the introduction of gas, says, " Oxford 
Street alone is said to contain more lamps than all 
Paris. The roads, even seven or eight miles round 
London, are lighted by such lamps ; and as these roads 
from the city to different parts are very numerous, the 
lamps, seen from a little distance, particularly in the 
county of Surrey, where a great many roads cross each 
other, have a beautiful and noble effect. " Mr. Williams, 
in 182S, says, "There are now in London four great 
gas-light companies, having altogether forty-seven ga- 
someters at work, capable of containing, in the whole, 
917,940 cubic feet of gas, supplied by 1315 retorts; 
and these consuming 33,000 chaldrons of coals in a 
year, and producing 41,000 chaldrons of coke; the 
whole quantity of gas generated annually being up- 
wards of 397,000,000 of cubic feet, by which 61,203 
private, and 7258 public or street lamps are lighted in 
the metropolis. Besides these, there are several other 
minor companies and public establishments that light 
with gas." There are at present sixteen metropolitan 
gas-companies, supplying the entire extent of London.* 

The first attempt to supply London with water by 
means superior to those of the conduits, pumps, and 
water-bearers of former times, was made by a Dutchman, 
named Peter Morrys, in the reign of Queen Elizabeth. 
He contracted with the corporation to raise water by an 
engine, to be erected in an arch of London bridge, and 
to send it through pipes into the city. Four arches of 
the bridge were successively assigned to him and his 
descendants for the purpose ; and the Loudon Bridge 
Waterworks were in existence and operation till within 
these few years, having been only removed when the 
bridge was taken down. 

Next after him came the well-known Hugh Middle- 
ton, citizen and goldsmith, and afterwards a baronet. 
His scheme was more magnificent, and having been 
executed with persevering earnestness as well as skill, 
it has effected the supply of a large portion of London 
for upwards of 200 years, and will doubtless continue 
to do so. This was the cutting of the canal, termed 
the New River. It derives it principal supplies from a 
spring at Chad well, between Hertford and Ware, about 
twenty one miles north of London, and also from an 
arm of the river Lea, the source of which is near the 
Chadwell spring, in the proportion of about two-thirds 
of the former, and one-third of the latter. These 
united waters are conducted by an artificial channel, 
nearly forty miles jn length, to four reservoirs, called 
the New River Head, at Clerkenwell. The New River 
Company having taken up the supply of that parf. of 
the city which used to be supplied from the Ixmdon 
Bridge Waterworks, have erected an engine on the 
banks of the Thames, by which they are enabled, in 
case of any failure in the quantity supplied by the New 
River, to draw from the Thames to make up the defi- 

+ For an account of the introduction of gat into London, and 
the process of its manufacture, see * Penny Magazine,' No. 159. 

O 2 

Digitized by 




[March IB, 

ciency. The Hampstead water-works were also incor- 
porated with the New River, and a considerable quan- 
tity of water is brought from the ponds on Hampstead 
Heath to a reservoir near Tottenham Court Road. 

About eight or nine years ago, considerable excite- 
ment prevailed in London respecting the quality of the 
water supplied by the different water companies to the 
inhabitants of the metropolis. The larger portion of 
them deriving their supplies from the Thames, it was 
contended that the river, receiving the drainage of 
about 140 sewers, as well as all the refuse of the 
various soap, lead, gas, and drug manufactories, was 
quite an unfit place from which to supply so essential 
an element of life. The subject was investigated by 
Parliament, and also by Dr. Roget, Mr. Brande, and 
the late Mr. Telford, acting as a commission under the 
Great Seal. The Committee of the House of Com- 
mons gave it as their opinion, ** that the then present 
state of the supply of water to the metropolis was sus- 
ceptible of and required improvement; that many of 
the complaints relative to the quality of the water were 
well founded ; that the supply ought to be derived 
from other sources than those then resorted to; and 
that it should be guarded by such restrictions as would 
at all times ensure the cleanliness and purity of an 
article of such prime necessity." In 1831 Mr. Telford 
was directed by government to " make a survey, and 
report upon the best mode of supplying the metropolis 
with pure water." He did so, in the beginning of 
1S34 ; but it does not appear that anything material 
has since been done in the matter. 

There are eight water-companies supplying London 
with water. These furnish to 191,066 houses a daily 
supply of 20,829,555 imperial gallons. The following 
details are taken from a Parliamentary paper of 1834 : 


op Water to thk Metropolis. 





Average Mean 


Rate* per 


dally »op- Elcva- 



Home or 

Total Quantity 

per 1000 

plr per lion 
lluune or at 





of Wwtar • 


lion at 





Building. 'which 



. jwljr. 


including, Water 



in gro«s 

Mvnufac- it«up- 

\% sup- 



tonc*, Ac. 



*. d. 


t. d. 




New Biver. . 


i6 6 

U4. 650. 000 

17 11 




Chelsea .... 


33 3 






Grand Jiinct. 


48 6 


24 1 






56 10 

ao. ooo, ooo 

45 6 




East I^ondoq 


2U 6 






S. Loudon . . 

1-2. 0<6 







Lambeth ... 




24 8 






21 3 







30 U 


23 8 




• Not known, no accounts having been kept. 

The state and management of the sewers of London 
engaged the attention of a Select Committee of the 
House of Commons in 1834. The following brief 
statements are taken from their Report : — 

The metropolis and adjacent districts, within a circle 
of ten miles from the Post Office, are divided into seven 
Trusts or Boards of Commissioners, for the purpose of 
maintaining the sewers, gutters, ditches, streams, water- 
courses, &c, in their respective districts, each having a 
separate and independent jurisdiction of its own. Five 
of these commissions are administered under local acts, 
but two of them take as their guide the old law of 
sewers, dated so far back as the 23rd of Henry VIII. 

Some French engineers, who were sent over by their 
government in 1833, were astonished by nothing so 
much as the sewerage of*London. The idea of forming 
drains in the streets of Paris only extends to surface- 
draining, while in London the water from the lowest 
cellars drains into the common sewers. 

The commissioners of the city and liberties of Lon- 
don division have within their jurisdiction about 17,600 
houses, the rental of which, assessed to the sewer-rate, 

is 792,904/. This comprehends, either wholly or in 
part, 113 parishes, of which the population is estimated 
at 122,316. The number of commissioners is 107; 
seven constitute a quorum ; and the average number 
who attend the meetings is from twenty-five to thirty. 
The salaries of the officers only amount to 570/. per 
annum ; and since the year 1756, about 114 new sewers 
have been built, wholly or in part. Very great im- 
provements have taken place of late years in the 
management of this Trust ; and the sewers are. gene- 
rally speaking, in an unobjectionable state. Com- 
plaints have been made by several of the inhabitants, 
who have large and valuable properties in the most 
crowded parts of the city, of the want of drainage in 
their neighbourhoods — a deficiency which not only pro- 
duces serious inconvenience, but has been prejudicial lo 
health. But there are obstacles of considerable mag- 
nitude in the way of the necessary improvements. To 
construct sewers of sufficient depth to drain the pro- 
perties in question, would endanger several buildings, 
— one or two of them ecclesiastical structures, — aud 
produce considerable risk of loss and damage ; and the 
commissioners have hitherto, chiefly in consequeuce of 
their defective powers, refrained from interfering. 

The amount received and expended by the City of 
London division for five years is as follows : — 




£13,307 14 

14,«J83 7 

10,068 10 

12,041 5 

17,718 9 

Balance in hand. afi«r 
defraying Lxpeusc. 

. £2787 18 7 
. 2822 13 7 

4379 1 11 

The Westminster and part of Middlesex Board of 
Commissioners has a district containing fourteen pa- 
rishes, and portions of six others. The amount collected 
within its district for the maintenance of the sewers 
was, for the ten years preceding 1833, 280,795/., and 
the amount expended in the same period was 269,790/. 
It was stated before the Committee that the quantity of 
feet of open and covered sewers built at the cost of the 
Westminster and part of Middlesex Commission since 
1807, is 9578, while, during the same period, the 
public, at their private cost, and without any assistance 
from the sewers' rate, built 91,708 feet. 

Some inconvenience and injury have been experienced 
from the trusts acting independently of each other; but 
it has been found difficult to suggest a proper remedy. 
The following instance was adduced. Part of the 
sewerage of the Holborn and Finsbury district is con- 
ducted through the city into the Thames. The sewers 
of that district having been greatly improved and en- 
larged, the volume of water carried to the river became 
so great as to render the sewers of the city inadequate 
to carry off their contents, which, in addition to the 
waters from the high lands of the neighbouring trusts, 
were absolutely forced back into the houses, from the 
quantity which occupied the main sewer; and thus, 
after each fall of rain, the houses in the vicinity of the 
river were regularly inundated. This has now been 
remedied at great expense to the City of London dis- 
trict, and by dint of much time and labour. By the 
law of Henry VIII. the commissioners of sewers are 
allowed 4*. a day. This allowance has been generally 
dropped, but the commissioners of most of the trusts, 
in lieu of it, dine together on their quarterly days of 
meeting; the expenses of which are defrayed from the 
funds in their possession. The number of members of 
each commission is far too large — in the Westminster 
and part of Middlesex Board they amount to upwards 
of 200. The act of Henry VIII. constitutes six a 
quorum ; and in a statement given of the meetings of 
the Westminster Trust during 1833, the average atten- 
dance was about a dozen. 

Digitized by 


1 1837.] 




{From the ' Pictorial History of England,-) 

[Landing of Julius Caesar. — After a Design by Blakey*.] 

At ten o'clock on a morning in autumn (Halley, the 
astronomer, in a paper in the 'Philosophical Trans- 
actions/ has almost demonstrated that it must have 
been on the 26th of August, b.c. 55), Csesar reached 
the British coast, near Dover, at about the worst pos- 
sible point to effect a landing in face of an enemy, — 
and the Britons were not disposed to be friends. The 
submission they had offered through their ambassadors 
was intended only to prevent or retard invasion ; and 
freeing it fail of either of these effects, on the return of 
their ambassadors with Comius, as Caesar's envoy, they 
made that prince a prisoner, loaded him with chains, 
—prepared for their defence as well as the shortness 
of time would permit ; and when the Romans looked 
from their ships to the steep white cliffs above them, 
they saw them covered all over by the armed Britons. 
Finding that this was not a convenient landing-place, 
Caesar resolved to lie by till the third hour after noon, 
in order, he says, to wait the arrival of the rest of his 
fleet. Some laggard vessels appear to have come up, 
but the eighteen transports, bearing the cavalry, were 
nowhere seen. Caesar, however, favoured by both wind 
and tide, proceeded at the appointed hour, and sailing 
about seven miles further along the coast, prepared to 
laud his forces, on an open, flat shore, which presents 

* The little that is known of Blakey is chiefly as a historical 
painter, in which department of art he obtained some celebrity 
during the middle of the last century. Some of his designs will 
be found in an edition of Pope's works, and in Jonas Hanway's 
'Travels through Pewia/ published about that period. In con- 
junction with Mr. Hayman. Blakey made some designs for a sat 
of prints intended to represent some of the principal events of 
early English history. This is considered as the first attempt to 
reuder our national history a subject for a series of pictorial repre- 
sentations ; but the work was unsuccessful, and of the two or 
three engravings which appeared, it is not known whether they 
were published singly or together. — Ed, Penny Mag. 

itself between Wahner Castle and Sandwich*. The 
Britons on the cliffs, perceiving his design, followed his 
motions, and sending their cavalry and war-chariots 
before, marched rapidly on with their main force to 
oppose his landing anywhere. Csesar confesses that 
the opposition of the natives was a bold one, and that 
the difficulties he had to encounter were very great on 
many accounts; but superior skill and discipline, and 
the employment of some military engines on board the 
war-galleys, to which the British were unaccustomed, 
and which projected missiles of various kinds, at last 
triumphed over them, and he disembarked his two le- 
gions. We must not omit the act of the standard-bearer 
of the tenth legion, which has been thought deserving 
of particular commemoration by his general. While 
the Roman soldiers were hesitating to leave the ships, 
chiefly deterred, according to Caesar's account, by the 
depth ofv the water, this officer, having first solemnly 
besought the gods that what he was about to do might 
prove fortunate for the legion, and then exclaiming 
with a loud voice, " Follow me, my fellow-soldiers, 
unless you will give up your eagle to the enemy ! T, 
at least, will do my duty to the republic and to our 
general ! " leaped into the sea as he spoke, and dashed 
with his ensign among the enemy's ranks. The men 
instantly followed their heroic leader ; and the soldiers 
in the other ships, excited by the example, also crowded 
forward along with them. The two armies were for 
some time mixed in combat ; but at length the Britons 
withdrew in disorder from the well-contested beach. 

* Horsley (in Britannia Rom ana) shows that Caesar must havo 
proceeded to the north of the South Foreland, in which case the 
landing must have been effected between Walmer Castle and 
Sandwich. Others, with less reason, think he sailed southward 
from the South Foreland, and landed on the flats of Romney 

Digitized by 




[March l 5 , 

As their cavalry, however, was not yet arrived, the 
Romans could not pursue them or advance into the 
island, which Caesar says prevented his rendering the 
victory complete. 

The native maritime tribes, thus defeated, sought the 
advantages of a hollow peace. They despatched am- 
bassadors to Caesar, offering hostages and an entire 
submission. They liberated Comius, and restored him 
to his employer, throwing the blame of the harsh treat- 
ment his envoy had met with upon the multitude or 
common people, and entreating* Ceesar to excuse a fault 
which proceeded solely from the popular ignorance. 
The conqueror, after reproaching them for sending of 
their own accord ambassadors into Gaul to sue for 
peace, and then making war opon him, without <wy 
reason, forgave them their offences, and ordered them 
to send in a certain number of hostages, as security for 
their good behaviour in future. Some of these hostages 
were presented immediately, and the Britons promised 
to deliver the rest, who lived at a distance, in the course 
of a few days. The native forces then seemed entirely 
disbanded, and the several ch'efs came to Cfipsar's 
camp to offer allegiance, w\\i\ negotiate or intrigue for 
their own separate interests. 

On the day that this peace was concluded, and not 
before, the unlucky transports, with the Roman cavalry, 
were enabled to quit their port on the coast of Gaul. 
They stood across the channel with a gentle gale * t hut 
when they neured the flritjsh, coast, and were even 
within view of Caspar's camp, they were dispersed by a 
tempest, and were finally pJilifvcd'tQ return to the port 
where they had hceii to, long detained, and whence they 
had set out that morning- That very night, Ca?sar 
says, it happened tQ he lull moon, when the tides al- 
ways rise highest-—" a fact at that time wholly unknown, 
to the Romans*"' — and the galleys whjch he had with 
him, and whicfi were hauled up on the beach, were 
filled with the rising waters, while his heavier trans- 
ports, that lay at anchor in the roadstead, were either 
dashed to pieces, or rendered altogether unfit for 
sailing. This disaster spread a general consternation 
through the camp ; for, as every legionary knew, there 
were no other vessels to carry back the troops, nor any 
materials with the army to repair the ships that were 
disabled ; and as it had been from the beginning 
Caesar's design not to winter in Britain, but in Gaul, 
he was wholly unprovided with com and provisions to 
feed his troops. Suetonius says, that during the nine 
years Caesar held the military command in Gaul, amidst 
a most brilliant series of successes, he experienced only 
three signal disasters ; and he counts the almost entire 
destruction of his fleet by a storm in Britain as one of 
the three. 

Nor were the invaded people slow in perceiving the 
extent of C«sar's calamity, and devising means to profit 
by it. They plainly saw he was in want of cavalry, pro- 
visions, and ships ; a close inspection showed that his 
troops were not so numerous as they had fancied, and 
probably familiarized them in some measure to their 
warlike weapons and demeanour; and they confidently- 
hoped, that by defeating this force, or surrounding and 
cutting off their retreat, and starving them, they should 
prevent all future invasions. The chiefs in the camp, 
having previously held secret consultations among them- 
selves, retired, by degrees, from the Romans, and began 
to draw the islanders together. Caesar says, that though 
he was not fully apprized of their designs, he partly 
guessed them, and from their delay in sending in the hos- 

* The operations of the Roman troops had hitheito hem almost 
confined to the Mediterranean, where there is no perceptible tide. 
Yet. during their st.iy on the coast of Gaul, on the opposite side 
et the channel, they ought to have beccine acquainted with thtse 
phenomena. ProbaMy they had never attended to the irregulari- 
ties of a spring-tide. 

tages promised from a distance, and from other circum- 
stances, and instantly took measures to provide for the 
worst. He set part of his army to repair his shatteml 
fleet, using the materials of the vessels most injured to 
patch up the rest ; and as the soldiers wrought with an 
indefatigability suiting the dangerous urgency of thecal, 
he had soon a number of vessels fit for sea. He then 
sent to Gaul, for other materials wanting, and probably 
for some provisions also. Another portion of his troops 
he employed in foraging parties, to bring into the camp 
what corn they could collect in the adjacent country. 
This supply could not have been great, for the nathes 
had everywhere gathered in their harvest, except in 
one field ; and there, by lying in ambush, the Britons 
made a bold and bloody attack, which had well niirh 
proved fatal to the invaders. As one of the two legions 
that formed the expedition were cutting down the corn 
ju that field, Caesar, who was in his fortified camp, 
suddenly saw a great cloud of dust in that direction. 
He rushed to the spot with two cohorts, leaving order* 
for all the other soldiers of the legion to follow as soon 
as possible. JJis arrival was very opportune, for he 
found the legion which had been surprised in the corn- 
field, and which had suffered considerable loss, now 
surrounded and pressed on a, 11 sides by the cavalry and 
war-chariots of the British, who had been concealed by 
the neighbouring woods. He succeeded in bringing 
off the engaged legion, with which he withdrew to his 
•intrenched camp, declining a general engagement fur 
the present. Heavy rafts., that fallowed for sone 
days, confined the Romans within their intrenchments 
AJeanwhjle the British force of hoise and foot was in- 
creased from all sides, and they gradually drew round 
the intrenchments. Cpjsar, anticipating their attack, 
marshalled his legions outside of the camp, and. at the 
proper moment, fell upon the islanders, who, he says 
not being able to sustain the shock, were soon put in 
flight. In this victory he attaches great importance to 
a body of thirty horse, which Comius, the Atrebatian, 
had brought over from Gaul. The Romans pursued 
the fugitives as far as their strength would pern it; 
they slaughtered many of them, set fire to some house> 
and villages, and then returned again to the protection 
of their camp. On the same day the Britons again 
sued for peace, and Caesar, being anxious to return to 
Gaul as quickly as possible, *' hecause the equinox \u> 
approaching, and his ships were leaky," granted it ^ 
them on no harder conditiqn than that of doubling u* 
number of hostages they had promised after their fn 
defeat. He did not even wait for the hostages, but i 
fair wind springing up, he set sail at midnight, ami 
arrived safely in Gaul. Eventually only two of the 
British states sent their hostages ; and this breach «i 
treaty gave the Roman commander a ground of com- 
plaint by which to justify hjs second invasion. 


[Continued from No. 317.] 

" At this time the camp was filled with sick and wounded, 
who died hourly, and no sooner dead than they were 
thrown into the intrenchments with as little cereinonya* 
you would throw a sand-bag. This greatly intimidated 
their comrades ; and nothing but murmuring and abuse 
was heard throughout the camp against their chief, who 
had brought them from their native country to be massa- 
cred and starved in this vile country ; many at the same 
time, in the presence of their chief, declaring they would 
no more attempt to mount the breach,— at the same 
time saying they had mounted it in vain seven or eight 
different times-, and found it was impossible tc takepo** 
session of the place whilst the English remained there. 

The fact is, the plague was now raging in Bonaparte? 
army. Even during the short siege of Jaffa, many me» 

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died of this horrible disorder; and Ihough all means 
were taken to conceal the true name and nature of the 
malady, the surgeons affirming that it was not the 
plague, and exposing themselves most courageously as 
a proof of their assertions, the soldiers could not long 
be deceived, and finally every one who felt a pain in 
the head or groin concluded that he was plague-struck. us relieve for a moment the gloom and horror of 
this narrative. Before Kleher's expedition, which Ca- 
valiero proceeds to notice, Murat was sent with his 
cavalry to make a recon no i ssance towards the river 
Jordan. It was the custom of this fearless man, even 
when on an advanced post, always to undress himself 
and sleep in sheets — which he was careful to have of 
the finest quality. " If the enemy should surprise us 
some night," said Miot, " what would you do?" lt Eh 
hie 11 ! ' replied Murat, 4< I would mount my horse in 
uiy shirt, and so my soldiers would the better distin- 
guish me in the dark." In a second expedition he 
routed part of the army of Damascus, and took all 
their tents, baggage, and stores. The people of Da- 
mascus are famous for the confection of sweetmeats, 
and I heir army had gone to the wars well supplied with 
these delicacies. A prodigious quantity was captured, 
and the Frenchmen passed the night in feasting upon 
them, and in singing and dancing. The soldiery called 
this " la balaillc da bons-botis" (sugar-plum battle). 
Murat had only one horse wounded in it. We now 
return to our straightforward journal writer. 

" General Kleber's division was despatched to keep 
the communication of Mount Lebanon and Jerusalem 
open, as everything now became so scarce that we were 
obliged to kill the wounded horses and camels to eat. 
All the standing corn in the fields was gathered, and 
t>oiled as a substitute for bread; some of the troops 
could not stomach the horse and camel's flesh, and some 
of the Italians* would say, ' di qur.sto vene fo un buon 
regaloj or, I make you a present of this. Troops were 
now getting ready to mount the breach again, Colonel 
Oroune desiring me to get his best uniform ready, and 
Is is boots without spurs, as a part of the cavalry were 
g-oing to act as dismounted troops with the infantry to 
endeavour to take possession of the place ; and ac- 
cordingly the breach was mounted by a strong body of 
troops, who got into several parts of the town, and took 
possession of some guns, but were obliged soon to 
evacuate them, as the Turks were so numerous, together 
with the British troops, who encouraged them, and forced 
the French troops out of the town again. My com- 
panion, Jean Castignon, would follow Colonel Broune, 
and the poor fellow was unfortunately carried away by 
a grape-shot in the retreat. Colonel Broune ordered 
him to be buried, and not thrown into the intrench- 
ments, as the common men were. The camp was now 
in the greatest confusion, all hopes of taking the town 
were given up ; men fifty at a time would desert the 
camp, with their arms and baggage. Every one pre- 
paring for a retreat, Colonel Broune desired me to have 
a camel killed, and to preserve enough for ourselves, 
and to give the remainder to such officers of the 
regiment as would accept it, which they received as a 
great favour, and thought to be * un buonimmo regalo* 
(a very good present). He also ordered me to take a 
horse and a camel, and one of his servants, and go into 
the country to try if I could purchase anything from the 
Syrians. I accordingly took my arms and two of the 
leather bags, the only ones remaining, the others having 
been burned by the heat of the sun. In our march we 
were joined by another small party on the same errand. 
We travelled almost the whole day without meeting 
with anything; at length we proposed to give some 
money to the Egyptian and Syrian servants and send 
them further into the country, near Jerusalem, and wait 
for them ourselves until next morning ; they returned 
* Many Cisalpine Italians ware in the expedition. 

punctually, and brought with them some bread, wine, 
onions, cheese, and fruit, with which we were much 
pleased, and I did not forget to promise my Egyptian a 
new suit of clothes for having been so brave, at which 
the fellow was so delighted that he kissed my hand in 
token of regard. My share was about two gallons of 
sweet wine, two dozen of dry onions, some dry figs, and 
about six pounds of bread, with about three gallons of 
muddy water, which I had by me. On our arrival at 
the camp I observed great confusion among the men, 
and particularly with the sick and wounded ; Colonel 
Broune seemed very glad of my safe arrival, for having 
been absent from him nearly thirty-six hours, he thought 
I had been killed or taken prisoner. He almost imme- 
diately desired me to get all things ready to evacuate 
the camp, where we now heard nothing but cries and 
lamentations from the sick and wounded men, who 
considered themselves abandoned to the murderous 
Turks. A number of them would try to march along 
the sea-side, hoping they might be fortunate enough to 
fall into the hands of the English, or get as far as Jaffa, 
where they might be embarked. Hundreds of them 
were not able to proceed further than a mile, when they 
would drop on the sands and were left behind to die. 
Several pieces of cannon were buried in the sands ; all 
the camp equipage, tents, and a great number of arms, 
were collected together and set on fire, in order that 
they might not fall into the hands of the enemy. How- 
ever, we soon reached Jaffa, within a small distance of 
which the army halted, and some of the sick and 
wounded were embarked on board of Greek vessels, 
that directed their course towards Damietta, with very 
little provisions and water ; but all their hopes weie, 
that they would fall in with the English*." 

The English were aware that the plague was raging 
in the French army. It therefore could not be ex- 
pected that they would approach these infected vessels or 
be anxious to make any prisoners. On several occasions 
a humane regard was however shown towards the suf- 
ferers. Sir Sydney £>mith upon their retreat from Acre 
followed the French, with his ships close along shore, 
as far as Jaffa : he cannonaded a body of them as they 
filed into that toWn, but the moment he perceived that 
it consisted of sick and wounded, he ordered the firing 
to cease, and allowed the convoy to pass unmolested. 

" At Jaffa my stay was very short — only four days 
— as the army continued its march towards Egypt 
on the 2Sth of May. Provisions and water were still 
very scarce ; I believe Colonel Broune had as good a 
stock as Bonaparte himself. Our party consisted of 
five, and we had only about two gallons of water, four 
or five bottles of wine, four or five pounds of bread, 
and ten or twelve pounds of horse and camel's flesh. 
This supply we thought, with great care, mig'ht be suf- 
ficient to serve us until we reached some part of Egypt, 
where we might procure more. All the horses in the 
army were a great deal worse off than the men, as 
sometimes they were obliged to give them salt water 
to drink, in consequeuce of which many of them died ; 
and we could not use the flesh, as we had not, nor con Id 
we find, any fuel to make a fire to dress it, and the 
Turks, Albanians, and Syrian Arabs were pursuing us 
closely. In the month of June following, the army fell 
in with a field of water and sweet melons, the whole of 
which were devoured in a very short time. The enemy 
observing the great confusion among the men, fell 
upon General Kleber's division, which formed the rear- 
guard, and which suffered greatly from the k\ banians. 
The general was himself surrounded by seven or eight 
of the Albanians, and defended himself desperately ; it 
was reported that he killed three himself; but he was 
severely wounded by their sabres. A great number of 
standards were taken from the Turks. The next day 

* Bourrienne, who was with Bonaparte, denies that any of the 
infected were shipped at Jaffa. 

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the army continued their march over the burning 
sands, and it is almost impossible to describe the suffer- 
ings of the sick and wounded men, who would drop on 
the sand twenty at a time, and they were there left in 
this dying condition. Many could not proceed from 
fatigue. Others swelled by drinking so much salt- 
water ; they could not follow their comrades, and in 
this deplorable condition some would put an end to 
their existence by placing the muzzles of their muskets 
under their chins, and letting them off with their toes. 
No assistance was given to the sick and wounded that 
were left behind. At length it was reported that 
Bonaparte had ordered some drugs to be given to the 
sick and wounded, to put an end to their existence." 

Cavaliero here alludes to the report, which was uni- 
versally believed in the army at the time, that Bonaparte 
had ordered doses of opium to be given to a number of 
plague patients at Damietta, who were unable to follow 
the retreating army, and certain of being barbarously 
murdered by the fast advancing Turks if they were left 
behind alive. No point in the life of Napoleon has 
been more vehemently debated than this. Some of 
his partisans have denied it altogether, but others have 
satisfied themselves with reducing the number of the 
victims from sixty or a hundred, to eight or six, or two 
or three, and with justifying the deed as a merciful 
dispensation, inasmuch as it abbreviated the sufferings 
of a few whose disease was hopeless, and tended to 
prevent the contagion from spreading. In the latter 
years of his life, the dethroned emperor allowed that 
he held a consultation with Desgenettes, the chief 
surgeon, in which poison was spoken of; he even 
argued that he should have been justifiable in adminis- 
tering the poison, and said that, under the circum- 
stances, he would have advised the same treatment for 
his own son, and demanded it for himself; but it seems 
to us he never clearly admitted that he did administer 
the poison, or order it to be administered. The report 
which was spread in Europe soon after, of his poisoning 
500 sick Frenchmen, was a gross absurdity; but that a 
deep-rooted belief of his having so disposed of a few 
unfortunate individuals obtained in the army on its 
retreat from Jaffa, can admit of no doubt whatever, 
and when coupled with the frightful loss they had sus- 
tained at Acre, and with their actual and extreme suf- 
ferings, we may almost be surprised that the irritated 
soldiers did not shoot him. It appears from Cavaliero 
that he was at one moment in danger of this ; and we 
know no single anecdote more characteristic of the man, 
than the one contained in our Italian's next paragraph. 

"The troops upbraided him for this with most bitter 
language, representing the men as dying in consequence 
of this cruel order, and exclaiming, * Shoot the tyrant ! ' 
' Shoot the Corsican rebel ! ' with many other abusive 
words; but he, with the utmost fortitude, listened to 
their reproaches, and answered them coolly in the fol- 
lowing words : — * For shame ! for shame ! You are too 
many to assassinate me, and too few to intimidate me ! ' 
(Vous etes trop pour me titer, et trop peu pour m* in- 
timiderl) The soldiers exclaimed with astonishment, 
• What courage the fellow has got ! ' (Quel courage a 
ce Id) and so nothing happened to him." 

" On the return of the army from Acre, we began to 
find ourselves approaching into Egypt by the number 
of Arabs and Mamelukes that we daily saw. Also, 
some date-trees were now and then to be seen, which 
we immediately cut down to get the interior part of the 
tree, containing a pleasant waterish liquor, as also the 
young branches. Many also began to search for water, 
which induced me to ask Colonel Broune* s permission 
to go in quest of some, as the few drops we had re- 
maining in our leathern bag were boiling hot from the 
heat of the sun. He then told me the dangerous con- 
sequences of parting from the main body of the army, 
explaining to me that there was as much danger from 


[March 18, .1S37. 

no* soldats (our own soldiers) as from the Arabs and 
Mamelukes. But we being so distressed for water, 
I at length prevailed, and Colonel Broune let me have 
two horsemen to accompany me. T took my leather 
bag and a cord which I had by me, and cut up one of 
my boots to serve as a bucket. Colonel Broune let me 
take his ostrich-egg, which held about three pints ; \i 
was very beautifully ornamented with gold. We left 
the army on the right, and after proceeding about two 
miles, we observed a number of men together, which, 
on our nearer approach, we found were a part of our 
army, — above 300 of the infantry, who had met with a 
well of brackish water, but would not let us come near 
it, pointing their muskets at us, and declaring they 
would shoot us if w« dared approach the well. Find- 
ing it was utterly impossible even to get a drop to 
moisten our lips, we proposed going towards a sand- 
hill, hoping to meet with some date-trees, that being a 
sure sign of water being near at hand. On our ap- 
proaching the hill, to our great astonishment we beheld 
about sixty Arabs and Mamelukes, who immediately 
discharged their muskets at us, which wounded me in 
my left leg ; and I had only time to discharge my 
pistols at them when my horse fell under me, bein^ 
wounded in several places. My right leg was un- 
fortunately caught under the horse in falling ; they 
then attacked me while down, and with my pistol I 
parried off several blows aimed at my head ; at last I 
was unfortunately wounded in my hand, and then I 
received a violent blow upon my head which deprived 
me of my senses. On my recovering. I found they 
were gone ; I supposed they imagined I was dead, or 
probably some of our rear-guard had heard the dis- 
charge of their muskets and appeared in sight, which 
had alarmed them and caused their retreat. My two 
companions, I found, lay dead near me. I remained 
nearly twenty-four hours under the horse, constantly 
expecting some one or other would come to put an end 
to my sufferings. I tried all means to extricate myself 
from under the horse, but all my exertions proved in- 
effectual, being quite blinded with the blood gushiug 
from the wounds in my head running down my face, 
and the wind blowing the sand constantly over it made 
it dry and hard, and I not having strength left to rub 
it off. But the Almighty through his mercy spared my 
life. In this state I heard the voices of men, and, on 
their near approach, I found by their language they 
were roving Arabs, going in search of plunder. When 
they pulled me from under the horse, they perceived I 
was not quite dead, though entirely speechless ; how- 
ever, I made such signs as I was able, putting my 
hands to my mouth, signifying I wanted something to 
wet my lips, being so parched, which they understood, 
and poured some water into my mouth ; — and I verily 
believe these few drops of water saved my life. On my 
recovering a little, they saw the sad condition I was iu 
and had compassionon me and placed me upon an ass, 
with my face downwards. In this state they carried 
me till the evening. When they stopped for the night, 
they laid me on the sand, and gave me more water to 
drink; they also washed my wounds, and the blood 
from my face and eyes ; and so, by this means, I was 
enabled to see. We remained on the saud till the 
morning, when they mounted me a second time as 
before. They continued their journey, but I could 
form no idea where they were carrying me to. The 
motion of the ass gave me great pain, and caused my 
wounds to bleed again, which they stopped by putting 
sand in them." 

[To be continued.] 

V The Office of the Society for the Diffusion or Useful Knowledge it si 
59, Lincoln's Inn Fields. 

Printed by William Clowbs and Sons, Stamford Street. 

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Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. 



[March 25, 1S37. 


[The Podargui Papuensis.] 

Th* goatsucker, night-jar, or fern-owl (Caprimulgu* 
Europaus), is the British representative of an exten- 
sive and very interesting family of birds (Caprimul- 
gid€cT)i distributed respectively over every quarter of 
the globe. Divided into several genera, the Caprimvl- 
gida present leading characteristics so marked and 
definite as to render it impossible that they should be 
mistaken. Crepuscular, or nocturnal in their habits, 
and feeding on nocturnal insects, such as moths, &c, 
which they take on the wing, their structure, their 
flight, and even the colours of their plumage, are in 
admirable accordance with their appointed mode of 
life. The head is broad, the eyes large and full, the 
beak compressed, with a wide gape running back 
beneath the eyes, and garnished along the edge with a 
close fringe of stiff long bristles. The tarsi are short, 
and in the typical genus, Caprimulgu*, the middle toe 
is broad, and serrated along the outer edge. The 
plumage is full and soft, and its colouring consists of 
intermingled mellow tints of grey, brown, and yellow, 
Vol. VI. 

arranged in lines, dashes, bars, and zigzags, producing 
an exquisite effect, and often defying imitation. In 
the restricted genus Caprimvlgus, of which our beau- 
tiful goatsucker is an example, the beak is small and 
weak, the tarsi very short, and the wings long and 
pointed. The flight is buoyant, quick, and noiseless, 
and distinguished by turns and evolutions performed 
with great ease and grace. It is always on the wing 
that the goatsucker takes its prey. At nightfall it 
issues forth from its retreat and begins its insect chase, 
suspending its active operations at intervals, during 
which, settled on some perch, it utters a jarring note, 
resembling the vibrating sound produced by the quick 
rotation of a spinning-wheel. This note is occasion- 
ally, but not often, uttered during flight ; and when a 
pair of these birds are sporting together on the wing, 
they also sometimes utter a low but shrill cry, repeated 
four or five times in succession. 

Like the swallow-tribe, the true goatsuckers are pre- 
eminently aerial ; indeed their small and feeble tarsi 

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fMnqp 15} 

disqualify them for searching after food oh the ground, 
while their ample wings give them the power of quick 
and easy flight. The swallow, however, is a hunter by 
day, — the goatsucker by flight* — the former keeps up 
an unceasing attack on the myriads of smaller insects 
which teem in the air, — the goatsucker feeds on moths, 
chafers, and the larger insects, which come forth when 
the rest have retired. In both oefees the powers of 
wing are considerable, but the flight of the goatsucker 
differs essentially in its character from that of the 
swallow; it is more undulating, more buoyant, more 
irregular, and far less continuous. It flits along on 
wings whose fanning is not heard, and in this respect 
resembles the owl no less than in its nocturnal habits. 
The popular names fern-owl and churn-owl, indeed 
indicate that the resemblances between the goatsucker 
and the owl have not escaped common observation. 
The large head, the wide gape of the beak, which h 
hooked at the tip* the large nocturnal eyes, the soft, 
loose, full plumage* and even Its blended tints, all 
tend to fill up a certain measure of approximation ; but 
this approach of the (laprin%ul(jid& to the owls is far 
more strikingly exhibited by the genus Podargus, than 
by the genus Uaprimnkjtis. In Podargus, for example, 
the beak, instead of being small and weak, is large and 
strong; the tiilmm, or ridge of the upper mandible is 
curved, — the gape is enormous, bat the edge* of the 
beak have no rows of fHhge-like lashes ; on the other 
hand, there is a tendency towards a radiation of feathers 
round the eyes, and those at the base of the bill are lax 
and almost hair-like, resembling the feathers which 
form the facial disc in the owl. In Caprimnlgu* the 
tarsi are, as we hare said, very feeble, and the claw 
of the middle toe pectinated; on the contrary, in 
Podargus, the tarsi are more strong, and the Claw 
of the middle toe is entirely destitute of pectination. 
With this increased development of the tarsi, the 
wings are abbreviated, the quill ^feathers being smaller 
and stiflfer. In the genus Podargus we see, in fact* 
a departure in minor characters, from those Which 
the typical forms of the family display; in the genus 
JEgotheles, another genus belonging to the goat- 
suckers, a still farther departure is to be traced ; and 
the same observation may be extended onwards. In 
every natural family, indeed* there exists a series of 
gradations (more or less apparent), by which one family 
approaches to another, leading to the conviction of Ta 
oneness of design and method, carried out through the 
whole ra/ige of nature. Where such links are wanting, 
we may suppose that they either exist undiscovered, or 
that they have previously existed, but have parsed away; 
and hence it often happens that fossil relics supply the 
hiatus in the gradual transition of form to form, for- 
cibly inculcating the doctrine that the system of organic 
being is complete and unbroken. With respect, how- 
ever, to the genus Podargus, its affinities are clear ; it is 
one of the aberrant genera of the Capri mnlgids, and 
as its structure departs, to a eertain extent, from the 
typical form presented by oar Common goatsucker, so 
also it exhibits a corresponding difference with regard 
to habits and manners. Exclusively confined to Aus- 
tralia, and the islands Of the Indian Archipelago, the 
genus Podargus consists of seven or eight species only, 
as far as hitherto discovered, and of these, one is the 
Podargus Pafmensit, represented in the annexed en- 
graving, which is copied after a drawing taken from a 
specimen in the Museum of Paris. It appears to be 
closely allied to a very rare species from Java, described 
a rider the name of Podargus Javenensis, Horsfield. 

Besides these, the following remarkable species (and 
one or two more might be added) are peculiarly de- 
serving of notice. First, the Horned Podargus, from 
Sumatra (Podargus cor/tutus), which indeed from the 
she of the head, the development of the ear-plumes 

into large full tufts, the great staring eyes, and the 
powerful beak, might be almost mistaken for an owL 
Secondly, the Stanley Podargus (Podargus Stan/ey- 
anrtts) from Australia, described in 'Latham, >ol. vii , as 
the wedge-tailed goatsucker. Thirdly, the Podargus 
humeralU, or Cold-river goat-sucker, of Latham (vol. 
vi.), also from Australia, fourthly, the Podargus Cv- 
vieri, or Benlt of the aborigines of Australia ; this is 
described by Mr. Caley as being nocturnal in its habits 
appearing stupified by day. All these species exhibit 
the distinctive characters of their genus. 

The formation of the wing renders their flight less 
buoyant and undulating than in the typical goatsuckers, 
though it is at the same time rapid; and the enormous 
gape of the beak, eom\>iued with its strength, enables 
them to take in the larger insects, and such as are clad 
with hard wing-cases. The French give to the com- 
mon goatsucker, among other names, that of crapaud 
volant (flying toad), in allusion to the noise it makes, 
and perhaps also to its Wide gape : the depressed form 
of the head, and the enormously wide gape of the birds 
of this genus, give them a better claim to such a title, 
and indeed, Without much impropriety, they may be 
regarded as representatives among the feathered race of 
those nocturnal, dusky, insectivorous reptiles. With 
respect to their habits of incubation, nothing is as- 
certained; though in this respect they most probably 
resemble the common goatsucker, Which deposits its 
eggs on the ground, among ferns, or a similar coven, 
where the spot is dry; they are two in number. 

The goatsucker is migratory hi our latitudes, but we 
know not Whether the species of the genus Polargui 
obey a similar law. It is not unlikely, however, that 
those peculiar to Australia pass periodically from one 
district to another, as is the case with the greater num- 
ber, if not all, of the feathered tenants of that vast 
insular continent (if the phrase be allowed), which, ac- 
cording to the statements of various travellers, migrate 
from one region to another, disappearing from given 
districts at certain seasous, and returning at others. 
In North America* the night-hawk (Caprimulgus 
Atoeric&nvs) land that curious bird the " Whip-poor- 
will " (Capritnulgus vociferus), are migratory. 

Even more confused by the light than is the common 
goatsucker, the members of the genus Podargus are 
completely nocturnal; they haunt the solitudes of the 
woods, and tire sombre but intermingled tints of their 
plumage screen them from observation. At night they 
issue forth on their aerial chase, and retire with the 
first streaks Of day to their wonted seclusion. 

Ih connexion with our Observations on the genus 
Podargus, we cannot omit a short notice of a most 
extraordinary bird, in many respects closely related to 
this genus, but which truly forms the type of a distinct 
generic group, under the title of Steatornis. We allude 
to the Guacharo (Steaiornis caripcnsin, Homb.), of 
which a memoir is published in the * Nouvelies An- 
nates du Museum,' vol. hi., part 4, by M. lHerminier. 
The Guacharo is a native of the range of deep and 
gloomy caverns of Caripe, in the province of Cutnana, 
where it was first discovered by MM* Humboldt and 
Bonpland in the year 1799. These caverns are formed 
in the sides of tremendous calcareous rocks, divided by 
a stupendous chasm, over which are thrown the famous 
bridges of Icononzo. " Numberless flights of noc- 
turnal birds," says Humboldt, " haunt the crevice, arid 
which we were led at first to mistake for bats of a 
gigantic size. Thousands of them are seen flying 
over the surface of the water. I'he Indians assured us 
that they are of the size of a fowl, with a curved beak 
and an owl's eye. They are called cocas, and the 
uniform colour of their plumage, which is blueish grey, 
leads me to think that they belong to the genus of 
Caprimidgus, the species of which are so various in the 

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Cordilleras. It is impossible to catch them on account 
of the depth of the valley, and they can only be ex- 
amined by throwing down rockets to illumine the sides 
of the rock." 

M. Depens, in his * History of South America/ 
alludes to the same bird, of which he says, millions 
inhabit the cavern called Guacharo, which is immense, 
and that their fat yields the " oil of Guacharo." Two 
Guacharos (for the bjrd takes the name of the cavern) 
were at last shot by M- Bonpland, by torchlight) and 
drawn and described by M. Humboldt : they were* 
however, lost by shipwreck, on their way to France, in 

In 1831, M. l'Herminier had the good fortune to 
obtain three of these birds killed in the great cavern, of 
Caripe, and his memoir is accompanied with an ex- 
cellent figure. He adds, that he was in hopes of 
procuring others also, both young and old, when the 
annual chase of these birds, which the Indians in the 
neighbourhood are in the habit of making, should take 

" Taken from the nest, and submitted to a fire of 
brush-wood, the young guacharos furnish an abun- 
dance of semi-liquid, transparent, inodorous oil, equally 
valued for the uses of the kitchen, and for burning in 
lamps, and which keeps above a year without becoming 
rancid. The seeds and fruits contained in their stomach 
are also collected with care, and constitute under the 
name of * semilla del Guacharo,' a celebrated remedy 
in the intermittent fevers of Cariaco." 

The Guacharo is about seventeen or eighteen inches 
in length, the extent of its wings being upwards of 
three feet ; when closed they nearly reach to the end of 
the tail, which is ample and graduated. The beak is 
strong, large, solid, arched above, and armed at the 
edges of the upper mandible with a sharp tooth-like 
projection ; a full tuft of long bristles arises from the 
base, and arches over the beak ; the gape is very wide. 

The eyes are moderately large, the tarsi short but 
stout, and the toes are armed with stout hooked claws 
well adapted for clinging to the sides of rocks. The 
middle clavw is not pectinated, and the whole structure 
of their foot much resembles that of the swift. 

Closely allied to the genus Podargus, with which it 
has been associated until lately, the guacharo differs 
from this group, and every other among the Caprimul- 
gidse in the nature of its diet ; it is in a great measure, 
if not exclusively, a berry-feeder, — at least if the ac- 
counts given by the natives are to be credited ; unfor- 
tunately the stomachs of the individuals obtained by 
M. l'Herminier were empty; he observes, however, 
that the digestive apparatus resembles that of the goat- 
suckers in general, and that this circumstance, in con- 
nexion with the structure of the bill, renders it difficult 
not to believe but that the. guacharo is insectivorous. 
The colour of the specimen figured is rich brown 
or maroon, with reddish white spots on the wings, and 
faint bars of black across the tail. M. Humboldt de- 
scribes his specimens as of a deep blueish grey : there 
may be two species. 

Latham describes an allied species (if it be not the 
same,) under tbe name of Trinidad goatsuckers, which 
inhabits by thousands " the coves forming the Bocases, 
an entrance into the gulf of Paria, accessible only at 
the lowest ebb tides ;" they are eaten as delicacies, 
but have an unpleasant flavour to persons not accus- 
tomed to them. In April and May they are destroyed 
in great numbers, and boat- loads of the young are pre- 
pared and salted for the market at Trinidad, where 
they are eagerly purchased. Latham places this species 
among the large-billed, or PodarguM section. 

Public Walks. — There is an excellent project in contem- 
plation at Hull ; it is to secure a large and complete prome- 
nade round the whole of the town. The Provisional Com- 
mittee say, " No town in the kingdom is at present so de- 
void of interesting walks as Hull ; and when it is considered 
that the promenade will extend completely round the town, 
for a distance of 4j miles by 50 yards, and contain two 
spacious foot roads and a splendid carriage road, with rows 
of trees on each side, it must be admitted that no town will 
then be able to outvie it. To carry this object into effect, 
it is proposed to purchase ground* the whole extent of the 
road, of the width of 150 yards, reserving to the landowners 
the privilege of forming the road through their own land 
on the proposed plan, and thereby obtaining excellent front- 
ages for building. The road, when completed, is proposed 
to be thrown open for the public benefit, and the ground on 
each side of it will be equally divided amongst the sub- 
scribers by lot; so that each subscriber of 100/. will be en- 
titled, after conferring an inestimable benefit on the public, 
to about 2000 square yards of building ground, with a 
frontage to this splendi d promenade or avenue. 

Wood Carving at Qrbden. — The Cicerone of the place 
was the sexton, in whose house, as in every other, is carried 
on the wood-carving that has so enriehed Grbden, because 
it so delights good little children. At his invitation we 
entered one of the small pleasant houses of which the 
village is composed. In a neat wainscotted room, a number 
of old men and women sat round a table, each having a 
piece of wood in hand, at which they were diligently cutting 
away. A lively old dame immediately took up a fresh piece, 
saying she would cut out a fox in our presence : whereupon 
another offered her services for a wolf, one man his for a 
Tyrolese, and a second man his for a smoking Dutchman. 
It was wonderful to see how boldly they began cutting, how 
certain was their shaping, how quickly the outlines were 
apparent. They assured us that they never spoiled a piece 
of wood, but showed us their hands and fingers covered with 
scars, and said that many carvers maimed themselves. 
They spoke with sovereign contempt of the drawing- school 
established in the valley by government, thinking that he 
who had it not in his head could never learn their art. 
They carved as their parents had carved before them, and 
the young ones who were taught to draw carved no better. 
They told us that the first person who introduced this wood- 
carving into the valley was one Johann de Mez, to whom, 
in the year 1703, it occurred to carve picture-frames of the 
wood of the pine, which frames, though plain arid coarsely 
wrought, found purchasers. The brothers Martin and Do- 
minik Vinager immediately saw that this occupation might 
prove a source of profit to the poor valley, in which, from its 
great elevation, neither wheat nor buck-wheat succeeded, 
and the scanty crops of rye were insufficient for the support 
of the inhabitants. The soft ductile pine- wood abounded 
on the mountain side ; aided only \>y their native acuteness 
and talent, the brothers attempted the first figures, suc- 
ceeded, and found numerous imitators. They then went to 
Venice for instruction, and returned able artists. Presently 
the whole valley was carving wood ; and with this new-born 
activity awoke that peculiar spirit of industry and specula- 
tion which slumbers in almost every Tyrolese valley, await- 
ing only a favourable moment to start forth into vigorous 
life. Whilst the women carved at home, the men went 
abroad to sell their wares. * * * Thus was introduced a 
valuable manufacture and export trade, in which the whole 
population of the valley was interested. Where, fifty years 
before, nothing but poverty and privation were to be seen, 
plenty reigned. * * * But the carvers were improvident. 
For a century they carved busily away. Pine after pine 
was felled, converted into images of man and beast, and 
dispersed throughout the world in exchange for money. 
No one thought of preserving or propagating the beneficent 
tree ; and one fine morning when the oarveis repaired to 
the mountain to fell a pine, they discovered, to their horror, 
that not one was left. In vain they explored recesses, 
ravines, and water-courses, in all directions; not a pine 
could they see, and despondently they returned home to 
collect all the despised and rejected fragments, and cane 
them, as they might, into dwarf puppets and lapdogs. They 
are now reduced to the hard necessity of sharing their gains 
with the inhabitants of the neighbouring valleys, by pur- 
chasing pine-wood of them, until the seeds they have sown 
shall have grown into serviceable tree*,— ifwakfs ' Tyrol 
and the Tyrolese* 

P 2 

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Thr Mackkrkl. 

[The Mackerel.— Scomber Scombrus.] 

The mackerel, though of the same order as the herring, 
pilchard, and sprat, belongs to a distinct family, — to 
which also belong the tunny, the bonito, the sword-fish, 
the dory, or doree, and several other kinds. The mac- 
kerel, which is placed at the head of this division, of 
acanthopterygii, was known to the Greeks by the name 
of (iKOfiftpog (scombroi) ; and the generic term for all fish 
comprised in this class is Scomberida. The name given 
to the mackerel by the French, German, and Dutch, as 
well as by the English, is derived from the Latin word 
macula, a spot ; that is, the spotted or streaked fish. 
Hence the term u mackerel -sky " is also applied to a 
well-known formation of the clouds. The mackerel 
is perhaps the most beautiful of our British fishes, 
being elegant in its form as well as brilliant in colour. 
The back is varied with hues of fine green and rich 
blue, and is marked by broad transverse lines, of a 
dark colour. Mr. Donovan, in his * British Fishes,' 
states, that " the males have these dark transverse bands 
nearly straight ; while in females these bands are ele- 
gantly undulated." The colours are much richer when 
the fish is first taken out of the water ; but even when 
exhibited on the stalls of the fishmongers in London, 
they are still brilliant. The scales are small and smooth ; 
and it will be seen, on reference to the engraving, that 
some of the posterior rays of the second back, and the 
caudal, or tail-fin, form very small-sized fins. The 
weight of the mackerel is generally under two lbs. ; but 
Pennant mentions one individual sold in the London 
market which weighed five lbs. and a quarter. The 
ordinary length is fourteen or sixteen inches, but some 
are found of the length of twenty inches. 

The mackerel approaches the coast in large shoals, 
and it was formerly considered that its annual move- 
ments were from northern to southern latitudes, and 
from southern to northern ; but this ' fish is to be 
met with in our own seas at all seasons of the year, 
though in the winter they are not found in great num- 
bers ; and the situation of those parts of the coast 
where they make their first appearance disproves the 
fact of their migrating only in a southern direction 
when the season has become more genial, as they fre- 
quently appear on a southern part of the coast before 
they have visited its northern limits. On the Cornish 
coast, which the fish often visit so early as the month 
of March, the course of the shoals seems to be from 
west to east. This year the fishing-season on the 
Sussex coast commenced early in February, and some 
were taken in January, but the number was small, and 
they were sold in London at from Is. to 2s. each When 
the fishermen commence very early in the year, they 
have to proceed a considerable distance out to sea, as the 
fish do not approach the coast until a more advanced 
period. May and June are the busiest months for 
mackerel-fishing. In the latter month they spawn, the 
female roe containing above half a million ova. The 
process of depositing spawn takes place earlier on a 
sandy and shallow shore than on a rugged coast, the 

former being also more favourable to vivification. 
Previous to winter, the young retire to deep water 
The mackerel may be considered as frequenting nearly 
every part of the coasts of the United Kingdom, but it 
is most abundant on the southern portion of Great 
Britain, on the coasts of Sussex, Kent, Hampshire, and 
the western counties, and on those of Suffolk and 
Norfolk. They do not make their appearance on the 
Scotch coast until late in the summer. Whatever may 
be the fact as to their migration to the arctic seas, 
the following statement, taken from the * Edinburgh 
Journal of Science,' shows that they are found in those 
latitudes under singular circumstances : — " Admiral Ple- 
ville-Lepley, who had had his home on the ocean for 
half a century, assured M. Lacepede, that in Greenland, 
in the smaller bays surrounded with rock, so common 
on this coast, where the water is always calm, and the 
bottom generally soft mud and juice, he had seen, in the 
beginning of spring, myriads of mackerel, with their 
heads sunk some inches in the mud, their tails elevated 
vertically above its level ; and that this mass of fish 
was such, that at a distance it might be taken for a 
reef of rocks. The admiral supposed that the mackerel 
had passed the winter torpid under the ice and snow ; 
and added, that for fifteen or twenty days after their 
arrival, these fishes were affected with a kind of blind- 
ness, and that then many were taken with the net ; bat 
as they recovered their sight, the nets would not answer, 
and hooks and lines were used.'' We do not find that 
writers on ichthyology have noticed the occurrence of 
any similar fact with regard to the mackerel ; but 
Mr. Yarrell *, in his notice of the tench, reports, that 
he was told they " bury themselves in soft mud during 
winter ;" and he adds, that they " certainly move very 
little in the colder months of the year." The same 
writer, speaking of eels, states, that during winter they 
remain " imbedded in mud," to the depth of twelve or 
sixteen inches. Thus they remain in a state of tor- 
pidity ; but experiments have proved that eels possess 
a low degree of respiration, and also a low animal tem- 
perature, from which arises the tenacity of life for which 
they are remarkable. These qualities the mackerel 
does not possess, and the probability of their becoming 
torpid is much less ; but until their physiological orga- 
nization has been more accurately examined, it is per- 
haps hazardous to deny the possibility of their being 
able to remain for some time in a torpid state. Fish 
will bear both a very high and an equally low tem- 
perature. John Hunter, in his 'Animal Economy,' 
speaks of fish that, after being frozen, still retain so 
much of life as, when thawed, to resume their vital 
actions; and in Bushnan's ' Introduction to the Study 
of Nature,' it is stated, that " perch have been frozen, 
and in this condition transported for miles. If, when 
in this state, fishes are placed in water near a fire, 
they soon begin to exhibit symptoms of reanknation ; 

* < British Fishes,' vol I, p. 333. 

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[Mackerel Boat* in the Bay of Hastings— Beachy Head in the Distance.] 

the fins quiver, — the gills open, — the fish gradually 
turns itself on its belly, and moves slowly round the 
vessel, till at length, completely revived, it swims 
briskly about." Perhaps, with regard to the alleged 
torpidity of the mackerel, the safest way will be to sus- 
pend any opinion on the point until its truth or in- 
accuracy has been determined by further observation. 

The mackerel-fishery is, perhaps, the liveliest, if not 
the most interesting, of any which are carried on in the 
British islands. The flesh of the mackerel being very 
tender, the greatest dispatch is used in conveying it to 
market, another incentive to exertion being the high 
price obtained for those fish which first arrive. The 
boats are frequently putting off and returning to the 
shore, the cargoes being conveyed by land carriage to 
the metropolis ; or, from some parts of the coast, by 
vessels towed by a steam-tug. A light gale, which 
gently ripples the surface of the water, and is called a 
mackerel gale, is most favourable to the fisherman, 
who chiefly follows his employment during the night. 
There are three modes of fishing,— : with drift-nets, with 
scans, and with the line. By the latter mode a couple 
of men will take from 500 to 1000 fish in one day, if 
the weather be favourable. The French boats fre- 
quently go out with six or eight people on board, all 
°f whom fish with the line ; and some of them are suffi- 
ciently adroit to pay attention to a couple of lines at 
the same time. The fish bite voraciously, and are 
jaken with great rapidity by a bait cut from its own 
kind, and made to resemble a living fish. They will 
*«toe, and may be taken by, a piece of scarlet cloth or 
leather ; and a scarlet coat has therefore been termed 
a mackerel bait for a lady." The sean-fishing re- 
quires two boats, and resembles in some respect the 
same mode applied to the taking of pilchards, though 
°u a smaller scale. The sean, however, is sometimes 

hauled on shore. The drift-net fishing is the most 
common, and by this mode a larger number offish can 
be taken than in any other way. The drift-nets are 
worth from 20s. to 80*. each. Mr. Yarrell's work, to 
which we have already been more than once indebted, 
contains the following minute account of the drift-net 
fishing :— " The drift-net is 20 feet deep by 120 feet 
long, well corked at the top, but without lead at the 
bottom. They are made of small fine twine, which is 
tanned of a reddish-brown colour, to preserve it from the 
action of the sea-water; and it is thereby rendered 
much more durable. The size of the mesh about two 
inches and a half, or rather larger. Twelve, fifteen, 
and sometimes eighteen of these nets are attached 
lengthways, by tying along a thick rope, called the 
drift-rope, and, at the ends of each net, to each other. 
When arranged for depositing in the sea, a large buoy 
attached to the end of the drift-rope is thrown over* 
board, the vessel is put before the wind, and, as she 
sails along, the rope with the nets thus attached is 
passed over the stern into the water till the whole of 
the nets are run out. The net thus deposited hangs 
suspended in the water perpendicularly twenty feel deep 
from the drift-rope, and extending from three-quarters 
of a mile to a mile, or even a mile and a half, depend- 
ing on the number of nets belonging to the party or 
company engaged in fishing together. When the whole 
of the nets are thus handed out, the drift-rope is shifted 
from the stern to the bow of the vessel, and she rides 
by it as if at anchor. The benefit gained by the boat's 
hanging at the end of the drift-rope is, that the net is 
kept strained in a straight line, which, without this pull 
upon it, would not be the case. The nets are shot in 
the evening, and sometimes hauled once during the 
night; at others allowed to remain in the water all 
night. The fish roving in the dark through the water 

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hang in the meshes of the net, which are large enough 
to admit them beyond the gill-covers and pectoral fins, 
but not large enough to allow the thickest part of the 
body to pass through. In the morning early, prepara- 
tions are made for hauling the nets. A capstan on the 
deck is manned, about which two turns of the drift- 
rope are taken. One man stands forward to untie the 
upper edge of each net from the drift-rope, which is 
called casting- off the lashings; others hand in the net 
with the fish caught, to which one side of the vessel is 
devoted ; the other side is occupied by the drift-rope, 
which is wound in by the men at the capstan/' The 
most active period of the fishery has already been stated. 
The seasons fluctuate considerably, an abundant year 
being succeeded by a scarce one; or several of the 
latter may occur together, and afterwards may be com- 
pensated by successive years of plenty. On some nights 
2000 or 3000 fish will be caught by one boat, and an- 
other not more than a mile distant may not take 100. 
This uncertainty contributes to render the fishery a 
p.-ecarious source of subsistence to those who can only 
embark capital in it on a small scale, and cannot stand 
against the unforeseen reverses which may occur in a 
short period, but are counterbalanced on an average of 

The boats employed are generally about thirty feet 
in the keel, built of oak or ash, ana copper^ fastened. 
They possess great depth of waist and breadth of beam, 
are noted for their durability, and considered as fast 
and safe a class of boats as axe to be. found in the 
fisheries on any coast of the United Kingdom. From 
Hastings to Dungeness the beach and coast are bold 
and rocky, and the strength of the boats was se- 
verely tested in attempting to w beach," besides the 
frequent loss of life ; but latterly a different method 
has been adopted of gaining the beach, by which 
this object is effected in a more skilful and less dan- 
gerous manner. All the fishing-boats are required to 
be licensed according to an Act of 6 Geo. IV. c. 108, 
and the Commissioners of Customs are authorized to 
grant or to refuse such licences, and to prescribe within 
what distance of the English coast they shall be em* 
ployed. It was usual formerly to restrict the boats 
within a distance of four leagues of the English coast ; 
and in obtaining a licence, impediments often occurred 
through the reports of the local officers of the revenue, 
which rendered it difficult for parties against whom 
any suspicion of smuggling was entertained, whether 
justly or not, to obtain the means of lawfully prose- 
cuting their occupation. Yaluable fishing?groonds were 
abandoned to the fishermen on the opposite coast, and 
while our fishermen were shut out from them, those 
from France or Holland freely fished on all or any of 
those to which the English fishermen were limited. 
The licence was not granted unless securities were 
given, and this was also a subject of complaint and 
often embarrassment. Four or five years ago, the 
licensing system was related, and the limits were ex- 
tended to within a league of the French and Dutch 
coasts ; but securities are still required, and the secret 
report, upon suspicion only, of the local officer of the 
customs, may occasion a difficulty in obtaining a licence. 
The object of these regulations has been to protect the 
revenue against smuggling, but it is obviously not cal- 
culated to secure this effect, as the French or Dutch 
boats cannot be brought within their operation ; and 
the only consequence has been to introduce new arrange- 
ments by which to baffle the vigilance of the officers of 
revenue. It is therefore to be desired that the licensing- 
system should be abolished, and that our fishermen 
should proceed wherever they believe they can most 
successfully obtain a cargo, care only being taken not 
to infringe on the rights of their brethren on the oppo- 
site coasts. The penalties against sj»ttflg)<»g wou!4 

still be in full force, while those who have no idea o 
engaging in the contraband trade would no longer l> 
annoyed by regulations which are directed solely agaias 
those who infringe the Custom-house laws. 

Every plan which proposes to augment the quantity 
of food, and to increase the comforts of the cottager, is 
deserving of consideration. The extent to which this 
end may be attained by a cottager's wife directing her 
attention (o the management of poultry, does not 
appear to have been accurately investigated ; nor is i: 
clearly understood by many whether this branch cf 
cottage economy is advantageous or disadvantageous, 
owing chiefly to the absence of some useful rules by 
which to conduct it according to a systematic and 
uniform method* based on experience and infounaUoc 
Attention has, however, been directed to the subject in 
each of the three kingdoms, but information has not 
been extensively conveyed to those for whom it is 
especially useful, and the various opinions of different 
writers have not been compared so as to deduce rules 
of undoubted utility. In directing notice to the snb- 
ject, we can only treat it in a general manner, and 
shall at present avoid details. The late Mr. Cobbett, 
in his useful little work entitled ( Cottage Economy, 
has expressed the following opinion on this matter :— 
"It is, perhaps, seldom that fowls can be kept con- 
veniently about a cottage ; but, when they can, three, 
four, or half-a-doaen hens, to lay tit winter^ when the 
wife is at home the greater part of the time, are worti 
attention. They would require but little room, might 
be bought in November and sold in April, and six of 
them, with proper care, might be made to clear, every 
week, the price of a gallon of flour. If the labour were 
great, I should not think of it, but it is none ; and I am 
for neglecting nothing in the way of pains in order to 
insure a hot dinner, every day in winter, when the mas 
comes home from work. * * * Nothing lawfully within 
our power ought to be neglected in order to insure 
comfort at home ; for without comfort there is no home' 
Martin Doyle, the cottage economist of Ireland, in his 
c H hits to Small Holders,' has also devoted some atten- 
tion to the subject. The following observations are 
from the work just mentioned; — "A few cocks and 
hens, if they be prevented from scratching in the 
garden, are a useful and appropriate stock about s 
cottage, the warmth of which causes them to lay eggs 
in winter — no trifling advantage to the children whtn 
milk is scarce. The French, who are extremely foud 
°f eggs, and contrive to have them, jp great abundance, 
feed them so well on curds and buckwheat, and keep 
them so warm, that they have plenty of eggs, even u 
winter. Now in our country, especially in a gen- 
tleman's fowl-yard, there is not an ^gg to be; had ia 
cold weather ; but the warmth of the poor maos cabia 
insures him an egg even in the most ungeniaJL season. 
You constantly want salt (and I hope soap) and can- 
dles in winter ; now a few eggs taken to the hucksters, 
procure you these most necessary articles in exchange. 
• * * Wherever you are within reach of steam-boats 
you may calculate on having a brisk dematftl for fat 
poultry for the English markets, if those at home should 
not afford a sufficient price. Many a clever woman ,D 
the barony of Forth earns smart sums by rearing au<l 
fattening fowl for the Wexford Market." In Scotlaui, 
that valuable association, the Highland Society, ^ 
given prizes to those cottagers who have been roost 
successful in the rearing and management of poultry: 
and a prize has been offered for the best essay on th* 
means of improving the supply of fattened poultry &* 

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In the counties bordering oh the metropolis, partieu- 
arly in Surrey, Sussex, Essex, Cambridge, Norfolk, 
Suffolk, and Berkshire, the rearing and fattening of 
>ou I try for the London market is thought worthy of 
i Mention by considerable farmers. At Wokingham, in 
Berkshire, the Louden dealers sometimes pay 150/. to 
the poultry feeders in that neighbourhood in a single 
market-day. Reigate and Dorking are also large 
poultry-markets. The prices are sometimes very high. 
In 1827 young fbwts were sold in London at 18*. a 
couple; and from 6s. tolOt. is considered a moderate 
price. The sudden demand which arises during the 
fashionable season in London will account for these 
high prices. Twenty rtosen of the finest fowls are 
sometimes required for a single £ala ; and if the price 
*ere higher, the extravagance of fashion would per- 
iaps cause the demand to be greater, though ordi- 
larily an increased price ot once diminishes the sule. 
Vhe present Earl Spencer, who has always warmly in- 
e rested himself in every species of rural and domestic 
mprovement, a few years ago instituted a poultry show 
t Chapel Brampton, in Northamptonshire. As it ia 
lways desirable to have a standard in view, raised as 
»igh as the most approved system will carry it, we give 
he weight of the fowls which gained the prizes adju- 
licated in 1829. The best turkey weighed 20 lbs. 
i oz. ; capon 1 lbs. 144 oz. ; pullet 6 lbs. 3£ oz. ; 
roose 18 lbs. 2\ oz. ; couple of ducks 15 lbs. 10 oz. 

But perhaps the cottager may direct his attention 
▼ ith more advantage to the production of eggs than to 
he fattening of poultry. The Poland breed will be 
bund most valuable to him. Their colour is a shining 
z>lack, with white feathers on the top of the head. They 
ire called " everlasting layers," and so seldom are 
nclined to sit, that their eggs are often set under hens 
)f a different breed. Some very interesting experi- 
ments on the production of eggs have recently been 
made by Mr. Mouat, of Stoke, near Guildford. He 
received three pullets of the Poland breed on the 1st 
>f December, 1835, which had been hatched in June 
previous, and they commenced laying on the 15th of 
December. The number of eggs which they laid be- 
ween the 1st of December, 1835, and 1st December, 
1836, was 524 or 174 and 175 each, and only one of 
hem showed a desire to sit. During the twelve months 
hey consumed 3 bushels of barley, 17 lbs. of rice, and 
i small quantity of barley-meal and peas, the cost of 
.vhicli amounted to 16s. lOd. The number of eggs 
wing 524, there were thirty-one eggs produced tor 
•ach shilling expended* Assuming the weight of each 
»irg- to be \% ok., there would be 41 lbs. of food of the 
nost nutritious kind which II is possible to obtain at a 
;o«t of less than 4frf. per lb. ; or if these eggs, iflstead 
>f being used Tor family consumption, had oeen sold 
o the huckster, a profit would have accrued of at least 
I OO per cent. \ for the trouble of attending to so small 
i stock of poultry scarcely deserves attention. If the 
parley had been purchased in a larger quantity it could 
iave been obtained at is. per bushel instead of 4e. 94., 
xnd there wotuM then have beeh thirty-six egg* for 
?ach shilling expended. 

A large number of the eggs consumed in London 
are brought from Prance, chiefly from the department 
of the Pas de Calais, which is opposite to the coasts of 
Kent and Sussex. A writer in a newspaper printed at 
Arras, the capital of the department, recently made 
strong complaints of the tleartiess of eggs in that part 
of Prance, and after remarking !hat the immense quan- 
tity sent over to England was the cause of the high 
price, ne ehTered Thlo the fottdWfng calcutatkms as to 
the value of this branch or trade :— u Out of 72,000,000 
of eggs annually imported into England from France, 
Germany, the Netherlands, and other countries, France 
contributes 55,000,000. Calculating the first cost at 

about 4£<i. per dotett, England pays annually to 
France for eggs about 77,000/. Suppose the freight, 
the profit of the Importer and retail deafer, the import 
duties, the loss by breakage and other damage, to in- 
crease the price to about Is. 3rf. per dozen, the total 
amount paid by consumers of French eggs in England 
will be no less than li)2,000f. M The price of French 
eggs in the shops ih London Is greatly exaggerated in 
this statement, and the French Writer has mis-stated 
the total quantity imported, though he is perhaps cor- 
rect as to the number Imported from France. From 
ah official account just published, We perceive that the 
importation of eggs from all parts in the year ending 
January 5th, 1837, was 69,000,000 ; and the duty of 
Id. per dozeh produced so large a sum as 24,018/. In 
1820 the quantity of eggs imported was 31,000,000, 
the duty being the same as at present, and yielding a 
revenue of 11,077/. In 1827 the importations were 
nearly as great as during last year and 1834, which 
were the highest years of importation for eggs which 
have yet occurred. 

These 69,000,000 of eggs 6annot be obtained from 
much fewer than 575,000 fowls, each producing 120 eggs 
on an average, all beyond this number being required 
for domestic consumption. Assuming the grounds of 
this calculation to be correct, the 55,000,000 eggs sup- 
plied by France are the production of 458,333 fowls, 
each of which fnrnishes ten dozen eggs, imported at a 
duty of lOrf., being a tax to that amount on each fowl. 
Allowing twelve fowls to each family engaged in sup- 
plying the demand for eggs, the number of familier 
thus interested will be 39,861, representing a popula- 
tion of 198,000. In the Pas de Calais there can 
scarcely be a larger proportion than two families out of 
every five who are connected with the egg-trade ; and 
if this were ascertained to be the real proportion, the 
population not directly engaged would be 457,000, 
which, with the 198,000 mentioned before, would com- 
prise a total population of 655,000, which is the popu- 
lation of the department. The superficies of the de- 
partment being 2624 square miles, it is equal in size 
to the counties of Bedford, Berks, Buckingham, and 
Hertford, put together. Over this extent of country 
must those who are engaged in the, egg-trade keep a 
vigilant eye, penetrating into every hamlet, and visit- 
ing the lone houses which are scattered in this part of 
France perhaps more numerously than in other depart- 
ments. Some arrangements of a peculiar nature are 
obviously required to facilitate the transactions of the 
wholesale dealer, who probably resides at the port from 
whence the eggs are shipped. The services of a subor- 
dinate class of dealers are doubtless called into activity ; 
and as it would be a waste of time for each of these to 
visit every week, or at a stated period, every one of the 
89*861 houses from whence they draw the quantity 
required, other arrangements of a still more detailed 
character are necessary in order to bring the article 
Within grasp. We ate not acquainted with the precise 
system adopted by the dealers in the Pas de Calais ; 
whether, for instance, they can depend upon the supply 
brought into the markets on stated days ; but if this be 
not the case, then the circumstances being analogous 
to those noticed by Mr. Weld, in his * Statistical Sur- 
vey of the County Roscommon,' something like the 
practice which he describes may have grown up in 
France as it has done in Ireland. Mr. Weld's account, 
which supplies some interesting facts relative to the 
trade of eggs in Ireland, is as follows: — 

" The trade in eggs, the value of which for export, 
according to Mr. Williams, in 1832, amounted to 500/. 
a -day, paid by England to Ireland, is carried on with 
considerable vivacity at Lanesoorough, and also at Tar- 
monbarry. The eggs are collected from the cottages 
for several miles around by runnets, commonly boy* 

Digitized by 




[March 25, 18? 

from nine years old and upwards, each of whom has a 
tegular beat which he goes over daily, bearing back 
the produce of his toil carefully stowed in a small hand- 
basket. I have frequently met with these boys on their 
rounds; and the caution necessary for bringing in their 
brittle ware with safety, seemed to have communicated 
an air of business and steadiness to their manner un- 
usual to the ordinary volatile habits of children in Ireland. 
I recollect one little barefooted fellow explaining that he 
travelled daily about twelve Irish miles (above fifteen 
English miles) ; his allowance, or rather his gain, was la. 
upon every six score of eggs brought in, the risk of 
purchase and carriage resting entirely on himself. The 
prices vary from time to time at different periods of the 
year, but they are never changed without previous notice 
to the runners. In the height of the season, the prices 
at Lanesborough were from 2s. 6d. to 4*. per 1 20 ; but 
towards the winter they rise to 5#. The eggs are 
packed in layers with straw, in such crates as are com- 
monly used for the conveyance of earthenware. Each 
crate will hold about eighty-four hundred of six score, 
that is, 10,080, the first cost being from 10L 10*. to 
16/. 165. per crate. These are sent forward on specu- 
lation to Dublin, or occasionally at once to the English 
market ; and a profit of 42. or bl. per crate is consi- 
dered a fair remuneration. Sometimes it is more and 
sometimes it is less, and there is risk in the trade. 
From Lanesborough the crates are sent overland to 
Killashee, the nearest place on the line of the Royal 
Canal, and forwarded by the fly trading-boats to Dub- 
lin. At Tarmonbarry I saw several cars come in laden 
with crates of eggs, from the neighbouring districts on 
each side of the river. The dealers at Lanesborough, 
with whom I conversed whilst in the act of packing 
their crates, seemed quite surprised at my question, 
Whether they ever used any artificial means of preserving 
the eggs, — and could scarcely credit the account I gave 
them of the possibility of preserving their freshness for 
a considerable time, bysinrply anointing them with any 
unctuous substance, such as butter or lard. But in this 
process the whole of the egg must be carefully covered, 
and it should be done soon after the egg is laid." 

The Voyageurs. — The " voyage urs" form a kind of con* 
fraternity in the Canadas, like the arrieros, or carriers of 
Spain, and, like them, are employed in long internal expe- 
ditions of travel and traffic ; with this difference, that the 
arrieros travel by land, the voyageurs by water ; the former 
with mules and horses, the latter with batteaux and canoes. 
The voyageurs may be said .to have sprung up out of the 
fur trade, having originally been employed by the early 
French merchants in their trading expeditions through 
the labyrinth of rivers and lakes of the boundless interior. 
They were coeval with the coureurs des bois, or rangers 
of the woods ; and, like them, in the intervals of their long, 
arduous, and laborious expeditions, were prone to pass 
their time in idleness and revelry about the trading posts 
or settlements, squandering their hard earnings in heed* 
less conviviality, and rivalling their neighbours, the In- 
dians, in indolent indulgence and an imprudent disregard 
of the morrow. The dress of these people is generally half- 
civilized, half-savage. They wear a capot, or surcoat, made 
of a blanket, a striped cotton shirt, cloth trousers, or 
leathern leggings, mocassins of deer-skin, and a belt of 
variegated worsted, from which are suspended the knife, 
tobacco-pouch, and other implements. Their language is 
of the same piebald character, being a French patois, em- 
broidered with Indian and English words and phrases. — 
The lives of the voyageurs are passed in wild and extensive 
rovings in the services of individuals, but more especially of 
the fur traders. They are generally of French descent, and 
inherit much of the gaiety and lightness of heart of their 
ancestors, being full of anecdote and song, and ever ready 
for the dance. They inherit, too, a fund of civility and 
complaisance ; and, instead of that hardness and grossness 
which men in laborious life are apt to indulge towards each 
other, they are mutually obliging and accommodating, 
interchanging kind offices, yielding each other assistance 

and comfort in every emergency, and- using the aikaOi 
appellation of "cousin" and " brother/* when th^e is 
fact no relationship. Their natural good-Will is probab 
heightened by a community of adventure and hardship i 
their precarious and wandering life. No men are mo 
submissive to their leaders and employers, more capab 
of enduring hardships, or more goou*huinoiued under pt 
vat ions. Never are they so happy as when they are c 
long and rough expeditions, toiling up rivers, or coastin 
lakes ; encamping at night on the borders, gossiping roon 
their fires, and bivouacking in the open air. They ar 
dexterous boatmen, vigorous and adroit with the oar an 
paddle, and will row from morning until night without : 
murmur. The steersman often sings an old traditionar 
French song, with some regular burden in which they aj 
join, keeping time with their oars ; if at any time tbey flag 
in spirits or relax in exertion, it is but necessary to sink* 
up a song of the kind to put them all in fresh spirits sad 
activity. The Canadian waters are vocal with these lrtcl- 
French chansons, that have been echoed from mouth to 
mouth, and transmitted from father to son, from the earnest 
days of the colony ; and it has a pleasing effect in a stuL 
golden summer evening, to see a batteau gliding aetata ti* 
bosom of a lake and dipping its oars to the cadence of tbe^ 
quaint old ditties, or sweeping along, in full chore*/ ic a 
bright sunny morning, down the transparent current of ob* 
of the Canadian rivers. — 'Astoria? by Washington Jbtmg- 

Female Education.— One of Daniel De Foe'j 
was an academy for the education of women ; 
resulting from the want of it, he expressed bis 
the following terms: — "A well-bred woman v 
taught, furnished with the additional accompli 
knowledge and behaviour, is a creature without < 
Her society is the emblem of sublimer enjoy 
person is angelic, and her conversation heavenly 
softness and sweetness — peace, love, wit, and a 
is every way suitable to the sublimest wish ; and 5 
that has such a one to his portion has notbin 
rejoice in her and be thankful. On the other ha 
her to be the same woman, and deprived of thi 
education, and it follows thus :— If her temper be J 
of education makes her soft and easy ; her wit, * 
teaching, renders her impertinent and talkative ?;J 
ledge, for want of judgment and experience, niajBMN|>sr fan- 
ciful and whimsical. If her temper be bad, wanipf Jjppediii£ 
makes her worse; and she grows haughty, fnjflffial, ml 
loud. If she be passionate, want of manners itf$Hf her a 
termagant and a scold. If she be proud, winfdRuscrt- 
tion (which is ill- breeding) makes her conceiteaTftfitastie, 
and ridiculous. 

A Lancashire Road in 1770.— In Arthur Young*s ' Tobt 
in the North of England,' published in 1770, we find tbe 
following statement as to the condition of the turnpike-road 
between Preston and Wi^an, &spot which is now become a 
centre fbr rail-way operations. This description of a torn* 
pike-road exhibits an extraordinary contrast with the safety, 
comfort, and celerity presented by the more modem im- 
provement " I know not in the whole range of language 
terms sufficiently expressive to describe this infernal roai 
To look over a map, and perceive that it is a principal of* 
not only to some towns, but even whole counties, one voaai 
naturally conclude it to be at least decent ; but let me moi 
seriously caution all travellers who may accidentally purport 
to travel this terrible country to avoid it as they would tbr 
devil, for a thousand to one but they break their necks or 
their limbs by overthrows or breakings down. They vil 
here meet with ruts, which I actually measured, four fed 
deep, and floating with mud only from a wet summer;— 
what, therefore, must it be after a winter? The only i*en& 
ing it in places receives, is the tumbling in some loose stoo** 
which serve no other purpose but jolting a carriage in taf 
most intolerable manner* These are not merely opinion* 
but facts, for I actually passed three carts broken down it 
these eighteen miles of execrable memory." — * Campari* 
to the Almanac' for 1 83 7. 

%• Tbt Ofllce of the Society for the Diffusion or UeeiUl Koowledp U it 
69, lineota't Ian Fields. 

PriaUd by Wiluam Clowh andJSoHi, SUmfcrf Street, 

Digitized by 


monthly guppltmrnt of 



Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. 


February 28 to March 31, 1837. 



[Fleet Street — Procession of Mail Coaches on the King's Birth-day.] 

Onjc of the most interesting chapters in the history of 
our civilization and progress, as a natiou is afforded by 
the various means of intercourse and communication in 
use at different periods. The time is so recent when 
roads were rough and perilous — when vehicles for tra- 
velling were clumsy, unusual, and expensive affairs, — 
when a journey any little distance from home was a 
6erious and important event, — that in looking back 
at what our grandfathers endured, and comparing it 
with what we now enjoy, we cannot but wonder at the 
rapidity and completeness o£ the alteration. Scott's 
picture of the journey of Jeanie Deans, on foot, from 
Edinburgh to London, in the reign of George II., 
gives us an idea of what was then the actual state of 
things. He exhibits his single-minded and resolute 
heroine pursuing her way from one county to another 
as if she were passing through different and distinct 
nations, — her person and appearance occasionally a 
wonder or a laughing-stock, and, he adds, with genuine 
Scotch feeling, her dialect at times mocked in dialects 
infinitely more barbarous. 

We have already given in the 'Penny Magazine'* 

* In Volume the Third there are some statements respecting 
the number of inns two centuries ago in London — the history of 
Vol. VI. 

various particulars respecting the state of travelling and 
communication in England at former periods. We 
need not, therefore, at present, go over similar ground. 
But, without looking farther back than the beginning 
of the nineteenth century, it maybe remarked, that the 
thirty-six years that have elapsed present us with some 
striking contrasts. Who now shrinks from travelling 
in a stage-coach by night, from the fear of its being 
stopped and robbed on the highway? In 1811, it was 
stated before a committee of the House of Commons 
that the only coaches which were then considered safe 
to travel in by night were the mails, the well-armed 
guard being regarded as a protection. Cabriolets and 
omnibuses, those useful vehicles that now throng our 
streets, seem, from their numbers, as if they had been 
in use for a long period — a century at least. Yet the 
cabriolets were only introduced in 1820, the omnibuses 
in 1830. In that short interval they have assisted in 
effecting great changes. They have contributed power- 
coaches and travelling on the continent a hundred years ago,— 
and the history of the Post Office, with an account of the origin 
and history of our present mail-system. In Volume the Fourth 
a variety of particulars are introduced, illustrative of travelling in 
England in the seventeenth century. * 


Digitized by 




[Much 3] 

fully to advance the expansion of the metropolis into 
the surrounding country. So far from the merchants 
of the "city" living over their counting-rooms or ware- 
houses, their clerks can afford to go out of the smoke of 
London, and yet their business is attended as promptly 
as if they resided on the spot. There is an old reputed 
prophecy which speaks about certain evils that shall 
befal the realm of England when Highgate stands in 
the heart of London. The period when this will be 
fulfilled seems remote enough — yet we are making 
advances towards it. "Merry Islington" is a populous 
and rapidly increasing constituent of the metropolis; 
Hampstead is drawing nearer every day. What further 
changes will be effected when railroads have knit 
together the extremities of the empire, and steam- 
coaches are in active operation, we need not conjec- 

One of the most pleasing of the outside shows of Lon- 
don is that of the daily departure of the mail-coaches. 
They start every night, at eight o'clock, from the Post 
Office, except on Sunday evenings, when they go off* 
an hour earlier. A few of the mail-coaches, which 
start from the " west end" of London, do not come up 
to the Post Office, the mails being conveyed to them 
in mail-carts. AH the rest arrive, a short time before 
the hour of starting, from their respective inns — the 
Blossoms, Lawrence Lane ; the Swan with Two Necks, 
Lad Lane; the Spread Eagle, Gracechurch Street ; the 
Belle Sauvage, Ludgate Hill, &c. &c. Most of the 
names of these inns are ancient, and carry with them 
interesting associations— we shall have another oppor- 
tunity of speaking of them. 

The yard round the Post Office, from which the mail- 
coaches start, is separated from the street by nn open iron 
railing, through which the spectators can see the pro- 
cess of packing the mail-bags. Each mail-coach takes 
the mail-bags <pf the various towns and places on its 
route, and also the mails for places in the neighbour- 
hood of the route, from whence they are conveyed by 
cross mails. When eight o'clock has arrived, they 
all prepare to start; the guards secure their valuable 
packages, the coachmen seiie the reins, and, one by 
one, the mails set off, issuing by the gates on either 
side of the Post Office. There is no confusion or irre- 
gular bustle, yet there is no delay ; in a few minutes 
they all disappear, and the twanging of the horns is 
lost in the noise of the streets — before midnight the 
total number started have run, in the aggregate, up- 
wards of 1000 miles. 

The daily regularity of this proceeding is one of the 
triumphs of modern civilization. The inhabitants of 
the remote Orkneys or Shetlands can calculate on re- 
ceiving the news of this great metropolis (and all that 
it has gathered during the day from every quarter of 
the world,) in little more than a hundred hours ; — the 
Highlander, whose country a century ago was nearly as 
much a " land unknown M as is now the interior of 
Africa or Australia, obtains ample intelligence in as 
many days as it once took weeks, or even months, for 
vague rumours to reach the Border. But notwith- 
standing the highly improved state of our present mail- 
system, the increase of the population, and of trade, and 
commerce demand additional facilities of communica- 
tion. The Commissioners of Post Office Inquiry have 
receutly recommended the establishment of day mails ; 
and it is very probable that this improvement, which 
has been much called for, will be adopted shortly. To 
which, it is to be hoped, wiil be added a large reduction 
in the rates «otf postage. 

The following iaWe gives a view of the principal 
places on the great thoroughfares to which the mails 
are despatched daily:—' 


Dotxs, with the continental Mails • . 

Hastings • «..%•«•• 

Brighton .••••••«. 

Portsmouth .«•••••. 

ootnnsfnptoQ «••••••• 


Deronport (Plymouth), through Bath and 

Falmouth, with foreign and colonial 
Mails, through Exeter and De? onport. 

Exeter, through Salisbury • • • • 


in Miles. 

i 73 , 

f §7 . 

. 65 . 

73 . 

90 . 

116 . 

243 . 

279 . 
173 . 

Pembroke, through Bristol and Car- 
marthen 273 

Carmarthen, through Oxford, Chelten- 
ham, Gloucester, &&••••• 224 

Ludlow 146 


Worcester . . . 115 

Stroud, through Abingdon, Cirencester, fee. 1 0$ 

the Irish Mails) . • 201 




Birmingham • •.,••• .110 

Stiurport # • 148 

Chester , 9 19* 


Liverpool . 200 

Liverpool ....♦•.. . 203 

Lichfield ... • , . 

Foituatrick • •••••••, 

Manchsstbb .*,*•<• 

Leeds, through Nottingham, Sheffield, Ac. 

Halifax, through Leicester, Nottingham, 
Chesterfield, Sheffield, and Hudders- 





Wells (on the Norfolk coast), through 

Cambridge and Lynn ..... 133 

Hull, through Peterborough and Lincoln \11 

Louth, through Boston • • • . ,148 

Norwich .... U3 


Ipswich , • • • 70 

Norwich, through Newmarket, Bury St 

Edmunds, fee 118 

Yarmouth, through Ipswich 


Glasgow »...»,. r . 996 
Carlisle ...... . . 302 



I. M. 

, 8 57 
. , 837 
. 726 
. 910 
. 830 
13 18 

26 5 

29 5 

. 29 » 

. 94 • 

. II M 

. 1220 

, 1147 

, 2«53 

, 9 19 
. 11 * 

, 1« • 

, UK 

15 I 


20 50 

12 2 
48 I 

19 • 

20 52 


14 43 

16 40 

15 56 

11 » 
7 1« 

13 5 

13 30 

amfVork, through D^»» 

The Edinburgh mail carries a 

It runs through Doncaster and Totk, xnruu *" t Z^fa to** 
Newcastle-upon-Tyne, and through a number of i*J°* ^^ 
such as Morpeth, Alnwick, Berwick, and *>**+* JJZ 0g* 
mails carried are Perth, Dundee, Montrose, A**^ t b< 
Inverness, Ac, on to Wick, 76* miles j j^STjgA* 
narrow peninsula of Caithness, to Thurso, 7W «■"**» 
run in about 96 hours. 

Digitized by 





The following table is taken from a pamphlet, just 
published, by Rowland Hill, Esq., on 'Post Office 
Reform ; — its Importance and Practicability : ' — 

Estimate of the cost qf conveying a Letter from London 
to Edinburgh, a distance of 400 mile*. 


From London to York, 196 miles, at lftrf. per 
mile »•••••••••••! 

From Tork to Edinburgh, 204 mile*, at Hd. per 
mile .••••• 1 

5 6J 


2 10 6£ 
Gdasm' Waob*.— 8ay Six Guards, one day each, 

at 10s. 6* per week 10 6 

Allow fur Tolla (which are paid in Scotland,) and 

all other expenses * ....... 1 18 11} 

Total cost of conveying the Mail once from Lon- 
don to Edinburgh, including the Mails of 
all intermediate places 5 

The average weight of the mail conveyed hy the 

London ana Edinburgh mail-coach is about 8 cwt. 

Deduct lor the weight of the bags, say . . • 2 „ 

Average weight of letters, newspapers, ftc. . • 6 

The cost of conveyance is therefore per cwt • • 16s. 8A 
Per ounce and a half, the average weight of a newspaper, 

about one-sixth of a penny. 
Far quarter of an ounce, the average weight of a single letter, 

about one thirty-sixth of a penny. 

"If any doubt is entertained of the accuracy of this 
result it may be tested thus : — Suppose 1000 letters to 
be made up into a parcel and dispatched from London 
to Edinburgh by coach : at the estimate above given, 
the weight of the parcel would be about 161bs., and the 
charge for its carriage about 2s. Aid. ; a rate of charge 
which, upon a contract for nearly half a ton per day, 
will furnish an adequate remuneration to the coach- 
master. It appears, then, that the cost of mere transit 
iucurred upon a letter sent from London to Edinburgh, 
a distance of 400 miles, is not more than one thirty- 
sixth part of a penny. n 

The fastest coaches now travelling are between — 

London and Shrewsbury . • 154 miles in 15$ hour*. 

* Exeter . . . 171 „ in about 17 honrf. 

„ Manchester . . 187 „ „ 18 hours. 

London and Manchester (maA) 187 „ 19h. Out, 

„ Holyhead (mail) 261 „ 26 55 

„ Liverpool (mail) 203 „ 20 50 

The Edinburgh, the Leeds, and the Devon port or Ply- 
mouth mails are also very rapid. 

There are fifty-four four-horse mails in England, 
and forty-nine pair-horse mails. The greatest speed 
travelled is ten miles five furlongs per hour ; the slowest 
speed six miles; and the average speed eight miles 
seven furlongs per hour. The average mileage paid 
for four-horse mails is If*/, per mile. The number of 
four-horse mails in Ireland is thirty, and in Scotland 

There Is an annual procession of mail-coaches on the 
King's Birthday, both in London and in Dublin. Von 
Haumer, in * Letters from England/ speaking of the 
London procession, says, u Such a splendid display of 

* " In strict fairness the English tolh ought perhaps to be in- 
cluded, as the exemption may be considered part of the price paid 
by the public for the conveyance of the mail. On the other hand, 
at least part of the coach duty, which for the mails is twopence 
f<* every mile travelled, should be deducted from the estimate. 
Sir Henry Parnell is of opinion that exemption from this duty 
would, under good management, be a compensation in full to 
the coach proprietor* for the conveyance ec* the mail He says: 
4 Without going into particulars, and attempting to prove what is 
the right course that ought to be taken, I should say generally, 
that there would be no difficulty, with a proper plan of manage- 
ment, to have the mail-coaches horsed by allowing the stamp duty 
only— without an exemption from paying tolls— that is 44. a 
[double] mfl o« p rovided that the pro p r ie tors were nUowed to cany 
an addittonei outside passenger, which would be equal to 3<&, and 
that coaches of the oett possible construction were used.' "— 
Seventh Report of Commiss ioner* *//W Office hqvity, p. 99. 

carriages and four as these mail-coaches and their 
horses afforded could not be found or got together in 
all Berlin. It was a real pleasure to see them in all 
the pride and strength which, in an hour or two later, 
was to send them in every direction with incredible 
rapidity to every corner of England." 

The following statements respecting the expenses of 
running stage-coaches are taken from the * Penny 
Cyclopaedia,' article Coach, in Vol. VII. : — 

" The stage-coaches usually belong to a coachmaker, 
who contracts with the speculators who * work ' them 
for the supply of new carriages at certain intervals, and 
is liable to the expense of all repairs : for this he re- 
ceives 2\d. or 3d. for every mile they travel. There is 
a duty per mile according to the number of passengers 
to be carried, rising from Id. a mile for 4 persons to id. 
a mile for 21. For each coachman a duty of \l. 5s. is 
annually paid, and for each guard, excepting those of 
mails. The expense of horsing a four- horse coach run- 
ning at the speed of from nine to ten miles an hour, 
may be stated at 3/. a double mile for 28 days (a lunar 
month) ; so that a person horsing ten miles of a coach 
passing backwards and forwards each day, should earn 
or receive by way of remuneration 13 times 30/., or 
390/. a-year for his work. This may be considered a 
high rather than a low estimate, unless in a district 
where wages and rent of stables are high, and hay and 
corn dear. In a cheap neighbourhood, or where a 
large number of horses are kept, the expense will not be 
so great. Nevertheless, a great many articles are to 
be provided : harness, which for four horses costs from 
16/. to 20/. : horses, of which, for ten miles of ground, 
at least eight in summer and nine in winter will be re- 
quired ; their price will be from 5/. to 20/. each : corn 
and beans, of which each horse will eat little less than 
two bushels a week, together with hay and straw cut 
into chaff. Straw, shoeing, physic, and farriery, must 
also be reckoned, as well as stabling, stable utensils, 
and horsekeepers' wages, which for each man are from 
12*. to 155. a week. The firm must also defray the 
wages of coachmen, who receive about 10s. a week, 
unless they drive backwards and forwards, and take 
fees from two sets of passengers each day, when they 
get no wages. The charge for washing the coaches 
must also be reckoned. To this long list must be 
added the heavy item of turnpikes. Mails are exempt 
from turnpike tolls, but a tax is paid for them to the 
government, and mileage to the contractor for the use 
of the coach." 

The Post Office allows the mail-coach contractors 
from Ad. to 6d a mile for conveying the letters, accord- 
ing to the speed of the coaches, and the country through 
which they travel. In return for this, the contractors 
must submit to the Post Office regulations, as to num- 
ber of passengers, time of starting, speed, &c. The 
guard of each mail is the servant of the Post Office. 

The limits of the Twopenny or rather the Threepenny 
Post would appear to be a natural division between 
long and short stages, or journeys and trips. But this 
would throw into the class of journeys, or long stages, 
Several places, such as Ux bridge, about 17 miles, Hamp- 
ton, about 16, and even Windsor, about 22, to which 
places there is a constant resort for pleasure or business. 
If we take, therefore, a wider range, we shall find that 
there are about $00 Stage-coaches, licensed to run 
between London and placet more than 20 miles distant. 
The mails are licensed to carry six, seven, or eight pas- 
sengers each ; the stage-coaches generally from twelve 
to fifteen. If we assign them, on an average, only seven 
passengers each, it will give more than 4000 individuals 
entering and leaving London daily by means of these 
long stages. 

To prevent misunderstanding, it must be borne in 
mind that the number of coaches licensed to ran may 

Q 2 

Digitized by 





permanently. Each coach pays a yearly. license; but 
the mileage duty is only exacted for the actual number 
of miles run. In summer there are always more coaches 
running than in winter; and it is probably a rare oc- 
currence that all the coaches which are licensed on a 
great thoroughfare are actually running to and fro at the 
same time as permanent stage coaches ; still, if we allow 
only 400 out ol* the 600 as running permanently, and 
assign to this 400 an average of nine passengers for 
each journey, it will give 3600 as the number entering 
and leaving London daily by these stage coaches. 

The immense traffic and intercourse between London 
and the suburban districts within the limits of the Three- 
penny Post (about twelve miles round St. Paul's) is an 
interesting object of contemplation. In the mornings, 
from (he hour of eight to ten, the various short stages 
and omnibuses are pouring in, bearing with them the 
merchant to his business, the clerk to his bank or 
counting-house, the subordinate official functionaries 
to the Post Office, Somerset House, the Excise, or the 
Mint, the Custom House, or Whitehall. An immense 
number of individuals, whose incomes vary from 150/. 
to 400/. or 600/., and whose business does not require 
their presence till nine or ten in the mornings, and who 
can leave it at five or six in the evenings; persons with 
limited independent means of living, such as legacies or 
life-rents, or small amounts of property; literary in- 
dividuals; merchants and traders, small and great; 
all, in fact, who can, now endeavour to live some little 
distance from London. This feeling is extending it- 
self rapidly, as omnibuses multiply. Even those who 
cannot afford, or grudge the daily sum of one or two 
shillings for conveyance out and in, according to the 
distance, endeavour to accommodate the matter — they 
walk in fine weather, and calculate on the omnibuses 
for the foul. Thus from Stepney and Mile-end on the 
east — from Camberwell, and Peckham, and Walworth, 
and Brixton, on the south — from Chelsea, and Bromp- 
ton, and Hampstead and Highgate, on the west and 
north-west—from Hackney, and Clapton, and Homer- 
ton, on the north and north-east, and the many streets 

and beginning to join hand to hand to gird the me- 
tropolis,— there is a constant and incessant in-pouring 
and out-pouring. Then the great lines of streets — those 
which, coming down from the east end of the city, 
from the East India House, the Bank, and the Royal 
Exchange, lead to the west end, through Cheapside, 
Ludgate Hill, Fleet Street, and the Strand, to Charing 
Cross, and up the Hay market to Regent Street and 
Piccadilly, or striking from Cheapside down Newgate 
Street, through Holborn and Oxford Street — are con- 
stantly crowded with omnibuses passing to and fro. 
The worst defect of many of the omnibuses is their 
alternate rapid driving and halting. The driver and he 
who hangs behind, — who opens the door and receives the 
money, and whose name, borrowing from the French, 
is " conductor," or, in the vulgar tongue, ** cad," — are 
not satisfied with having had their long box packed 
full of passengers at the first starting. The original 
occupants may nearly all leave the vehicle on its route, 
their business calling them out at different points. But 
driver and conductor are seldom disposed to move 
rapidly on with a half-empty omnibus. The one holds 
up his whip significantly, the other scans the pavement 
on either side, to see if he can detect among the pas- 
sengers any willing to fill the vacant places in his 
machine. The person who entered at the Bank to go 
to Piccadilly or Oxford Street may thus be considerably 
delayed. This evil is somewhat remedied through the 
competition between the increasing and rival vehicles; 
and it would doubtless be more to the advantage, both 
of proprietors and the public, if the omnibuses were all 
to select certain fixed points, at particular places in the 
streets, between which they would run without hailing, 
— starting from them successively at short intervals. 
The road from Paddington to the Bank is tolerably 
well regulated in this respect, there being time-keepers 
appointed by the proprietors, who make the omnibuses 
move on : the time allowed, though not always strictly 
kept, is three minutes. There are time-keepers at 
various other omnibus stations, — but an improvement 
would be beneficial to all parties, 

Digitized by 





Within the limits of the Threepenny Post, there are 
about S60 short stages and omnibuses plying, some 
making two to six journeys daily, but the majority 
eight, ten, and twelve. If we allow them* on an aver- 
age, eight journeys each, it will give 6800 journeys 
daily; if on each journey they carry ten passengers 
(which is surely a moderate average), it will produce 
68,000 persons availing themselves of these conve- 
niences every day ; the fares are, for all short dis- 
tances, 6d. 9 but in other cases 1*., 1*. 6<2., and 2*. when 
to Richmond, &c. If these 68,000 individuals pay, on 
an average, 9d. each, it will give 2550/. per day, which to 
each short stage and omnibus is exactly 3/. a day. This 
sum shows an expenditure of about three-quarters of a 
million annually upon this new mode of conveyance. 

Bishopsgate Street, in the city, is a well-known 
gathering place for Short Stage Coaches. In Grace- 
church Street, also, which is a continuation of Bishops- 
gate Street, there are stands from whence sixty-four 
stage-coaches and eleven omnibuses ply chiefly to 
places on the south side of London, in Surrey, such as 
Camberwell and Clapham, Dulwich, Peck ham, Nor- 
wood, Mitcham, &c, and to Deptford, Greenwich, 
Blackheath, Lewisham, &c, in Kent. Bishopsgate 
Street and Gracechurch Street intersect Cornhill and 
Leadenhall Street. The whole neighbourhood is lite- 
rally swarming with stage-coaches and omnibuses, start- 
ing at all hours of the day to every quarter of London 
and its neighbourhood. The omnibuses have, in some 
measure, superseded the stage-coaches. We borrowed 
the idea of the omnibus from the French, — though at 
least fifty years ago an advertisement appeared in a 
London paper, announcing the intended starting of a 
new-constructed vehicle, which was to carry passengers, 
in a way not unlike the omnibus, at a fare of sixpence 
each. It does not appear that the project was ever 
carried out. There were numbers of omnibuses plying 
in the streets of Paris in 1829 ; and in 1830 they made 
their first appearance in London. They were tried on 
the New Road, from Paddington to the Bank, but 
soon spread to all the great thoroughfares. 

Some vigorous efforts have been made to establish a 
steam-carriage on the road from Paddington to the 
Bank, but hitherto without success, for the attempts 
have not been persevered in. Last year a steam-car- 
riage was run for a considerable time on the Stratford, 
Islington, and Paddington roads. It was at once start- 
ling and amusing to see the ponderous machine wheeling 
along, as if by magic, carrying from fifteen to twenty 
persons (the last-started steam-carriage had seats for 
twenty-two), and travelling at the rate of from eight to 
ten miles an hour. From whatever cause, the experi- 
ment was abandoned. 

Von Raumer, speaking of the omnibuses of London, 
says, " In the great omnibuses six or seven persons sit 
sideways, opposite to each other, and the entrance is 
from behind. They have names of all sorts, from 
4 Emperor,' * Nelson/ and such lofty titles to the names 
of the proprietors or of animals. Every ride, long or 
short, costs sixpence, or five silver groschen. The car- 
riages are, however, much longer than those in Berlin, 
and the profits much greater. It is to be hoped they 
will soon be imitated among us." 

In the following statements it is important to remark 
that the number of short stages and omnibuses which 
are mentioned do not always and daily run. There 
may be more one day than another. But as all are 
licensed for the particular routes mentioned, there can 
be no question but the proprietors run them as often as 
they see opportunity. On the road from Paddington 
to the Bank and Royal Exchange (a great thoroughfare, 
which, passing by Islington, connects the west end of 
London with the city), there are at present fifty-four 
omnibuses licensed to run. The distance is reckoned 

at fbur miles and a half, the number of passengers 
allowed to each vehicle is fifteen, and the number of 
journeys made in a day ten and twelve. The fare is 
sixpence each, but it is the same whether the passenger 
travels all the way or only a part of it. As each om- 
nibus stops a few minutes at Islington, there is always 
a change, more or less, of passengers. The omnibuses 
will thus sometimes have thirty passengers each on a 
journey, instead of fifteen. If the fifty-four on this line 
of road make ten journeys a day, and take each journey 
eighteen passengers, they will carry 9720 individuals, 
and earn in sixpences 243/., about 4/. 10«. each. 

In order to enable the reader who may not have 
visited London to understand the direction of the routes 
which are occupied by the short stages and omnibuses 
plying in the neighbourhood of the metropolis, and 
through its streets, let us take the following method of 
explanation. The Thames flows from west to east. 
In passing through, or rather by, London, its course 
is somewhat circuitous. The Surrey side of London, or 
the south side of the Thames, is very populous — the . 
parliamentary boroughs of Southwark and Lambeth 
containing upwards of 300,000 inhabitants. But it is 
chiefly on the north or Middlesex side of the Thames 
that the wealth, fashion, and business of London lie. 
The Thames, in coming down from the west, makes a 
great sweep from south to north, forming a bend, in 
which is contained the Houses of Parliament, and the 
government edifices of Whitehall, as described in the 
last Supplement. From Charing Cross eastwards the 
river keeps a rather straight course, so that the Strand 
and Fleet Street, which run parallel to it, may be 
represented (not literally but comparatively) by a 
straight line. Keeping this in mind, let us take the 
following diagram for illustration : — 

Thi Axqzl Injc, Iilikotox. 



Tuk E Lira any and Castlx Inn. 

Supposing the cross line to represent the thorough- 
fare running from the west end by Charing Cross, 
through the Strand, Fleet Street, Ludgate Hill, and 
Cheapside, to the Bank, Royal Exchange, and Mansion 
House, let us direct our attention to the north and 
south points. The mail and stage-coaches going by 
the north roads generally call at the Angel Inn and 
the Peacock Tavern, which are close to each other, in 
Islington ; and those going south call at the Elephant 
and Castle Inn, in Newington. These two northern and 
southern points, therefore, are great gathering places 
and stations for short stages and omnibuses. Between 
the Angel Inn at Islington and the Elephant and 
Castle Inn there are seventeen omnibuses plying. 
These vehicles start from Islington, taking generally a 
supply of passengers for the city, there being but few 
who require to go the whole way to the Elephant and 
Castle. There are two roads, meeting at a point at 

Digitized by 





the Angel, which tad into the city— one called the 
City Road, which leads direct to the Bank and Royal 
Exchange ; the other termed the Goswell Street Road, 
which keeps a little more south than the Citj Road, 
and leads into St. Martin's-le-Grand, past the General 
Post Office. This road the omnibuses take which ply 
between the Angel Inn and the Elephant and Castle 
Inn. A number of passengers generally leave the 
vehicles at the Post Office ; they then, passing down 
Newgate Street run through Farringdon Street, past 
the front of the Fleet Prison, and across the Thames 
by Blackfriars Bridge. The length of this route is 
about three miles. In addition to the omnibuses pljing 
between the Angel Inn and the Elephant and Castle 
Inn, there are three plying between the latter and 
Charing Cross, at the west end. 

Here, on this south side of the river Thames, are a 
great number of districts and villages which, a few 
years ago, presented fields and lanes between them ; 
but which are now, by the filling up of their interstices, 
beginning to lose all appearance of country. Along 
the banks of the river, in Southwark and Lambeth, 
are the tanners, and dyers, and hatters, and hop mer- 
chants, colourmen, and druggists, with their factories 
and warehouses: farther south lie Camberwell and 
Walworth, Newington and Kennington, Peckham and 
Brixton. At the Elephant and Castle Inn vehicles 
presenting different shapes and varieties may be found 
•—the long close omnibus; the fly, a gig-like thing 
hung round with curtains; the stage, that once, per- 
haps, run long journeys, now condemned to short— all 
awaiting the pleasure of the holiday-maker, or the will 
of the man on business. Some are for Norwood, with 
its Spa and its gipsy parties ; others for Dulwich and 
its picture gallery; or S treat ham, where resided the 
hospitable brewer and his literary lady, whose house was 
so long a home to Dr. Johnson. Here, too, but more 
south-west, are Putney, and Rew, and Richmond ; and 
south-east, in Kent, Deptford, and Greenwich, and 
Lewisham, and Blackheath. 

The Angel Inn at Islington presents a busy scene. 
A road, called the New Road, comes up from the West 
End, and just where this inn stands, joins the City 
Road. Here, between the West End and the Bank, 
ply fifty-four omnibuses. Through Islington, too, pass 
a great number of vehicles, to Holloway, Highbury, 
Hornsey, &c. Hornsey Wood, a favourite spot for 
excursions, is supposed to preserve in its name a relic 
of the great forest which once stood on the north side 
of London, and which abounded with bears, wolves, 
and wild boars. Away, north-west, rise the high 
grounds of Hampstead and Highgate, much resorted 
to by those who seek to escape from the fogs of Lon- 
don to a purer air. The country in this direction is 
dotted over with villas and villages, and affords some 
delightful views. Indeed the environs of London are, 
speaking generally, admirable. That weeping atmo- 
sphere which in winter keeps the city in darkness, and 
the pavement perpetually moist and miry, imparts in 
summer a green and refreshing verdure to all the fields 
around the metropolis. And thus the pent-up citizen, 
whose business or means will not permit him to visit 
the brown plains of France, need not fret himself tor 
that. He can take an omnibus to Hampstead, and for 
a shilling, with ease to himself and profit to his carrier, 
look down from Hampstead Heath on one of the finest 
prospects to be had in the neighbourhood of any capital 

The populous villages of Hackney, Homcrton, Clap- 
ton, Edmonton, immortalized by the adventures of 
John Gilpin, Enfield, celebrated in former days for its 
chase, (a large tract of woodland, which was well 
stocked with deer, but has been disforested,) and farther 
off Epping and Hen haul t forests, which together cover 

about 10,000 acres, and contain some fine tree*, Ik on 
the north and north-east of London. 

At the city end of London, in Bishopsgate Street 
and Gracechurch Street, in Cornhill and Leaden hall 
Street, from the Bank and Royal Exchange, are to be 
found vehicles running to the various places we have 
named* It has been stated on good authority that 
about 1600 trips or journeys are made every day through 
Cheapside by short stages, omnibuses, hackney-coaches, ' 
and cabriolets. 

Let us now pass from the east end to the wrest, by 
one of the two great thoroughfares which branch of 
at St. Paul's, from the bottom of Cheapside — either 
down Ludgate Hill, by Fleet Street and the Strand, to 
Charing Cross and Pall Mall, or down Newgate Street, 
by Hoi born and Oxford Street, to the upper end of 
Hyde Park. Piccadilly is a gathering place for om- 
nibuses and short stages, and from it start the mails 
and stages that run the western roads. The villages 
and places that lie beyond this, from the banks of the 
Thames, northwards, are Chelsea, Brompton, Fulham, 
Hammersmith, Chiswick, &c. 

To Blackheath, from Charing Cross, which is reckoned 
between seven and eight miles, (that is, the leugth of 
the route which the vehicles are licensed to run,) and 
from Gracechurch Street, which is between six and 
seven, there are fourteen vehicles plying. 

From Piccadilly to Black wall, reckoned about six 
miles and a half, and from the Royal Exchange about 
four miles, there are forty-one vehicles. 

From Chelsea to Leadenhall Street, five miles and a 
half, and to Mile-end Gate, six miles and a half, there 
are twenty-seven vehicles. 

From the Bank to the Edgeware Road at the West 
End, between four and five miles, there are fifty- three 

To Hampstead, from Charing Cross, the Bank, 
and Hoi born, the distance varying from four to be- 
tween five and six miles, there are nineteen vehicles. 

From the Bank to Pineapple Gate, at the West 
End, (the greater part of the route being the same as 
the Paddington Road, and the licensed distance which 
the omnibuses run the same,) four miles and a half, 
there are twenty-five vehicles. The number on the 
Paddington Road has been mentioned already. 

Such is a specimen of the way in which the om- 
nibuses and short stages now occupy the great thorough- 
fares of the metropolis. At all hours of the day they 
are perpetually passing to and fro ; the street resounds 
with the announcements of the conductors, calling out 
'• Charing Cross !" " Piccadilly !" •' Oxford Street!" 
or the u Bank ! " according to the direction in which 
they are moving. A great enjoyment and convenience 
they are, undoubtedly ; and if they were a little better 
regulated in their movements, if the characters of 
drivers and conductors were raised a little higher 
(efforts are making towards this), and less cause of 
complaint given by furious driving, or by uncivil con- 
duct, or by attempts at imposition, they would form one 
of the most satisfactory of our social improvements 
which have been introduced in modern times. And 
even comparing the conduct of conductors and drivers 
with what was the conduct of stage and hackney- 
coachmen some twenty or thirty years ago, it cannot 
be said that the former are very far behiud their age. 

The da ties on stage-coaches, under which head om- 
nibuses are included, are collected under the 2 and 3 
Wm. IV., c. 120, and 3 and 4 Wm. IV., c. 48. By these 
acts, every stage carriage is required to be liceused, 
either at the Stamp Office, or by a distributor of stamps, 
before it is used. Every original licence is charged with 
a duty of fW. Every supplementary licence with a duty 
of I«. 

Every stage carriage is also chargeable with a mileage 

Digitized by 





duty, according 1 to the number of passengers carried, 
viz. — 

Duty par Mile. 
If such carriage shall be licensed to carry d. 

Dot mure than 4 passengers • 1 

More than 4 and not more than 6 , . 1J 

6 9 . , 2 

9 12 . . 1i 

12 15 . . 3 

~~ 15 18 . . a* 

.18 21 . ♦ 4 

And for every three additional pasaen^ers an 

additional duty of OJ 

Coaches let for hire were first established in England 
in 1625. They did not stand in the streets, but at the 
principal inns. In 1637 — two centuries ago — there 
were, in London and Westminster, fifty hackne\- 
coaches. Hackney-coach-stands originated in 1634. 
In a letter, dated April 1st, 1634, in the first volume of 
Strafford's * Letters and Dispatches,' it is said : — " I 
cannot omit to mention any new thing that comes up 
among us, tho* never so trivial. Here is one Captain 
Baily, he hath been a sea captain, but now lives upon 
the land, about this city, where he tries experiments. 
He hath erected, according to his ability, some four 
hackney-coaches, put his men in a livery, and appointed 
them to stand at the May-Pole, in the Strand, giving 
them instructions at what rates to carry men into 
several parts of the town, where all day they may be 
had. Other hackney-men, seeing this way, they flock 
to the same place, and perform their journeys at the 
same rate ; so that sometimes there is twenty of them 
together, which disperse up and down, that they and 
others are to be had everywhere, as watermen are to be 
had by the waterside. Everybody is much pleased with 
it, for, whereas before, coaches could not be had but at 
great rates, now a man may have one much cheaper." 

Hackney-coaches and sedan-chairs were, until the 
beginning of the present century, the only public vehi- use in the streets of London. The sedan-chair 
has almost entirely disappeared. " In the time of 
Hogarth it was considered as a courtly vehicle, and in 
one of his plates of the 'Modern Rake's Progress/ we 
see his man of fashion using it to go to St. James's. 
It continued to be used at a much later period, and 
does not appear to have been generally laid aside until 
the beginning of the present century. About five-and- 
twenty years ago a sedan was very commonly seen in the 
hall or lobby of gentlemen's houses, uo longer used, 
but laid like a ship in ordinary. 

44 It is still used rather extensively in Edinburgh, 
where the chairmen are all Highlanders born, and a 
very curious and humorous body. It is pretty com- 
monly seen in the streets of Bath, and not unfrequently 
in those of Cheltenham, Brighton, and our other water- 
ing places. In Brighton, however, it is being super- 
seded by a vehicle called a * Fly-by-night,' which is 
made in the body like a sedan-chair; but goes upon 
wheels, and is dragged by one or two men*." 

Sedan-chairs were introduced by Charles I. on his 
return from his visit to Spain. When the Duke of 
Buckingham, who received two of the three sedan- 
chairs which Charles brought from Spain, used them 
in London, a great clamour was raised against him by 
the populace, that he was reducing free-born English- 
men and Christians to the offices and condition of 
beasts of burden. 

A life of Jonathan Wildf lets us know that many of 
the expert thieves in his employment used to dress 
themselves as chairmen. " A couple of them meeting 
together, stole the youngs Duchess of Marlborough's 
chair as she was visiting in Piccadilly, her chairmen 
and footmen being gone to a neighbouring ale-house. 
One of her servants thought immediately of applying 

♦ * Book of Table-Talk/ vol. i. p. 133. 

t Not the life by Fielding, but one which purports to be SJ& 
authentic biography, published anonymously* 

to Mr. Wild, who told him that if he would leave ten 
guineas he might have the chair next day. The man 
made some difficulty of leaving the money beforehand, 
but Mr. Wild told him he was a man of honour, and 
scorned to wrong him ; and, indeed, his character was 
by this time established as a man that dealt honourably 
in his way, so that the man ventured at last to leave 
the money : wherefore Mr. Wild bade him direct the 
Duchess's chairmen to attend the morning prayers at 
Lincoln's Inn Chapel, and there they should find the 
chair, which the fellows did accordingly; and they 
found the chair, with the crimson velvet cushion and 
damask curtains, all safe and unhurt/' 

After the hackney-coaches had existed two centuries, 
cabriolets came to dispute possession of the ground 
with them. Cabriolets were long in use in Paris, where 
the reckless driving of them through the ill-paved streets 
had frequently created a clamour. An expression is 
attributed to Louis XV., which expresses the spirit that 
would suppress instead of trying to improve — u If I 
were lieutenant of police I would prohibit cabriolets." 
Cabriolets made their appearance in London in 1820. 
They were painted uniformly of a chocolate colour. In 
1823 the number of cabriolets was greatly increased, 
and gigs and other vehicles began to be substituted for 
them ; and they became of all colours. Side-seats for the 
drivers were also universally adopted, an arrangement 
not existing in the Paris cabriolets. 

Von Raumer thus describes our hackney-coaches 
and cabriolets :— " The coaches with two horses are 
exactly like ours, and have no peculiar character, as the 
one-horse cabriolets have. In Vienna there is nothing 
of the kind ; and as to our droschkes, I need not de- 
scribe their virtues or defects. In Naples there are 
small two-wheeled carriages, but quite open. The 
driver sits sidewards, at the feet of the gentleman or 
lady, and drives, leaning all the while to the right. In 
Paris, the driver sits in the cabriolet, by the side of the 
person he is driving. Here the latter sits alone in the 
carriage, and the driver has a very narrow seat on the 
right hand, stuck on the muin body like a swallow's 

The original cabriolets were very generally com- 
plained against as unsafe vehicles, and indeed they 
have an insecure look. The horses were generally 
worn-out broken-down creatures : when a passenger 
hired a cabriolet, he was usually in a hurry to reach 
the quarter of the town to which he wished to be con- 
veyed, and at all events it was* the driver's interest to 
earn his fare as soon as he could. The poor horse, 
whipped to its utmost speed, frequently slipped, in spite 
of all the driver's efforts to hold him up; and if he fell, 
the passenger might be shot out of the cabriolet on the 
street, like an arrow from a bow, Last year, an im- 
provement intended to remedy this defect, was intro 
duced ; the body of the cabriolet is swung low, between 
a pair of high wheels, and the driver in perched on the 
top. A fresh improvement has recently been intro- 
duced; the cabriolet is converted into a snug little 
close-body coach, both on two and on four wheels, — 
the entrance of some from behind, as in the omnibus, 
and of others on the side. But these newly-improved 
cabriolets are not very numerous, though they are in- 
creasing in number: the old cabriolets still abound in 
the streets. 

In 1826 the number of hackney-coaches and cabrio- 
lets in the metropolis was 1150, paying a duty of 21. 
per lunar month for each, which produced, including 
fines, 29,392/. In 1827 and 1828 the number was 
exactly 1200 ; and in 1829 and 1830 (in the latter year 
omnibuses were introduced) the number was 1265, 
producing a yearly duty of 32,000/. By the Hackney 
coach Act passed in 1831, the number was directed not 
to exceed 1200 until the beginning of 1833, but after 
that period licenses were to be granted without limit*£ 

.Digitized by VjOOQIC 



[March 31* 183T. 

tion as to number. The number of hackney-coaches 
and cabriolets at present licensed in the metropolis is 
1707. It would be difficult to arrive at a proper idea 
of the number of persons who use them, or the amount 
of money earned by them daily. It is understood, 
however, that the proprietors require from a guinea to 
twenty-five shillings per day from the drivers. 

All vehicles, whether on two or more wheels, plying 
for passengers in any part of the metropolis, within 
five miles of the General Post Office, with the exception 
of those licensed as stage-coaches, are deemed hackney- 
carriages within the provisions of the Act of 1831 

Fares according to Distance. — For every hackney- 
carriage drawn by two horses any distance not exceed- 
ing one mile, one shilling, and sixpence for every addi- 
tional half mile, or fractional part of half a mile 

Fares according to Time, — For every hackney-car- 
riage drawn by two horses any time not exceeding half 
an hour, one shilling, and sixpence for ever}' additional 
quarter of an hour, or fractional part thereof. 

For every cabriolet, or other hackney-carriage drawn 
by one horse only, two-thirds of the rates and fares 
above mentioned. 

From the immense number of public vehicles of every 
description which throng the streets of London, it can- 
not but happen that complaints will arise, and that 
frequently these complaints are just. The conduct of 
drivers and others connected with stage-coaches and 
hackney-carriages, is far from being perfect. Public 
opinion is, however, operating on them ; and really 
when we consider the temptations to dri liking to which 
these men are exposed, under the varied changes of the 
atmosphere, — their defective education, which is wholly 
of an external kiud, scarcely ever leading them to reflect^ 

WP nan nut :il tnn-pfhpr wonder at their occasional defi- 



polis. He has hitherto been unsuccessful. The ob- 
jections made in Parliament to his bill were, thai the 
existing law was sufficient for the purpose, and that 
many of the provisions of his bill were too stringent, 
calculated to abridge the comfort and enjoyment of the 
public in these useful machines, and to lay too heavy a 
4)u rden on the drivers and others ministering to the 
pleasure and convenience of thousands, who, if they 
could not get a cheap drive, must otherwise walk. The 
following table, however, will show that some regu- 
lations are necessary : — 

Number of complaints made in 1833 and 1 834 in 
the different London police offices against drivers and 
proprietors of short stages, omnibuses, hackney -car- 
riages, and cabriolets : — 

Mansion House, before 

and CaU. 


Short 8tef»f 
and Omnib— y a. 

the Lord Mayor . , 

. 22 





At the Guildhall 

, . 201 





Towuhall, Southwark 

. . 9 





Bow Street . . . 

► . 093 





Hatton Garden • • « 

. 62 


Lambeth Street . • . 

. 57 





Marylebone . . . . 
Marlborough Street • , 

. 183 





. 222 





Queen Square . • 

. . 87 





Thames Police Office . 

• 11 





Union Hall . . . 

. . 177 





Worship Street . . . 

. 24 





2048 14*9 

Being at the rate of eighty-five complaints or pro- 
secutions a month against the drivers or owners of hack- 
ney-carriages and cabriolets, and twenty-four again*? 
stage-coaches and omnibuses plying in or about the 
neighbourhood of London. In about two-thirds of the 
entire number of caies, the offending parties were pro- 

SPPllfpH tt\ ne\n\'\ni\t\n nn/1 finarl in «um« vnrvillGT frniTi 

[Bishoptgaie Street— Short Stages. J 

V The Offica of tha Sodaty for tha Diffusion of Uaefol Knowledge te at 89. Lintidui'i lea Field*. 


Printed bj WlWJAM Cwwm aad Sow*, fituafod Street. 

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Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. 



[April 1, 1837. 


[New Bridge and Trinity Church, Weymouth.] 

Wetoouth, a seaport and well-known bathing-p'ace, 
and a municipal and parliamentary borough, is situated 
in Dorsetshire, on (he western side of an extensive bay 
formed by the promontories of St. Al ban's Head and 
the Dill of Portland, the distance between which is 
about eighteen miles. Weymouth stands at the mouth 
of tile river Wey, which takes its rise four miles off at 
the village of Upway. The coast here forms nearly a 
semicircle, extending about two miles between the 
headlands, the mouth of the Wey being just within the 
southern headland. The bay is sheltered from winds 
by the surrounding hills, the beach forms a gradual 
descent, and the sands are Arm and level. The latitude 
of Weymouth is one degree farther south than London ; 
and as the distance between the English Channel and 
Bridgwater Bay on the Bristol Channel does not at 
this point exceed sixty miles, it therefore enjoys many 
of the advantages of an ocean climate, the seasons being 
temperate and equable. Hence various plants which, 
in other parts of the country, require protection from 
the cold, flourish throughout the winter in the open 
air. The geranium grows luxuriantly, and requires 
little care, and the large and small-leaved myrtle are 
out-of-door plants. Dr. Arbuthnot, who came in his 
early days to settle at Weymouth, remarked that a 
physician could neither live nor die there. 

The town of Weymouth was formerly a distinct 
borough, but in the ISth of Elizabeth (1571) it was 
united with Melcombe Regis, and both places are now 
known by the general name of Weymouth* Melcombe 
obtained the affix of Regis, owing to its standing on 

Vol. VI. 

the demesne lands of the crown. Weymouth is con- 
sidered the more ancient place, but it is only a chapel ry, 
the mother church being at Wyke Regis; and at 
Melcombe Regis there was no church until 1605, the 
church of Radipole, in which parish it is situated, being 
the parochial church. In 1650 the inhabitants of Wey- 
mouth petitioned that they might have a parochial church, 
and that a provision should be made for a minister, as 
Weymouth, being a garrison and port town, they consi- 
dered it was not safe for the people to go so far as to the 
church of Wyke. Both places at this time contained 
chapels of ease, but for many purposes it was necessary 
to resort to the parish churches of Wyke and Radipole. 
The convenient situation of the harbour did npt fail to 
render Weymouth a place of considerable trade at an 
early period; and its commerce with France, Spain, 
and Newfoundland sustained the maritime, importance 
of the town. In the time of Edward III. (1347) the 
quota of men and ships which it furnished was much 
larger than that of many ports which have since risen 
into importance. In the wars between France and 
England at this period, attempts were several times 
made to burn the town, but it was not by these means 
that Weymouth was destined to lose its commercial 
advantages. Henry VIII. built the castle of Sandslbot, 
or fort, about a mile south-west of the town, on a high 
cliff, nearly opposite Portland Castle ; and also im- 
proved the means for the defence of the town and har- 
bour. In the reign of James I. Weymouth and Mel- 
combe Regis were alluded to in a charter granted by 
this king, as " great and famous ports, and of great 


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[April | 

strength and force to defend the country, and also ex- 
ercising merchandising;, and having much importance 
in and upon the seas, by reason of which a great num- 
ber of mariners are constantly employed and nourished/' 
From this period, however, the town may be con- 
sidered to have been in a declining state until after the 
middle of the last century. The wool-staple was re- 
moved, and the Newfoundland trade decayed. Poole 
and other ports rose into greater importance; the civil 
wars hastened the ruin of its commerce ; public spirit 
and enterprise languished, and were succeeded by 
apathy and neglect. During the civil wars the town 
was alternately garrisoned for the king and the parlia- 
ment, being several times taken and re-taken. The 
chapel of ease was converted into a fort at this period. 

From this season of depression the town began to 
recover about the year 1763, when a gentleman of 
Math, named Allen, brought it into repute as a bathing- 
place. On his first visit to Weymouth there was no 
bathing-machine in the place, and he was obliged to 
get one constructed for his own use; but having re- 
ceived much benefit during his visit, his recommenda- 
tions soon brought others in pursuit of the same objects, 
and the usual accommodations of a watering-place were 
not long wanting. In 17S0 the Duke of Gloucester 
spent a winter at Weymouth, and was so much gratified 
with his sojourn, that he built a house for bis own resi- 
dence. In 1789 George III. paid his first visit to 
Weymouth, and evinced his attachment towards it By 
visiting it several times. The inhabitants made great 
exertions to merit the favour of royalty. Where rubbish 
i\as once deposited, they formed a fine esplanade. This 
public walk is halt a mile long and thirty feet wide. 
A theatre and assembly-room were built, and libraries 
and reading-rooms established. Houses for the ac- 
commodation of increasing visiters rapidly sprung up 
■wherever there was an agreeable sea or inland view. 
Weymouth possesses no architectural antiquities, and 
there is nothing to render the appearance of so many 
modern buildings in any way incongruous. A Domi- 
nican priory .once existed. The church is not older 
than the time of James I. It contains a fine altar- 
piece by Sir James Thomhill, which he presented to 
the town, of which he was a native. His father having 
been compelled to part with the family estate, the son 
directed his attention to the art of painting, and his 
performances in the dome of St. Paul's, at Greenwich 
Hospital and at Hampton Court, may be regarded as 
indicating great merit, especially when it is considered 
that he was deprived of many adventitious aids which 
contribute to perfection. By his diligence and industry 
he re-purchased the paternal estate, and sat in parlia- 
ment for the place of his nativity. Weymouth gives 
the second title to the Marquisate of Bath, and George 
Bubb Doddington, who represented Mel com be Regis, 
was created a baron in 1761, with the title of Melootnbe. 
He died in the course of the following year, when the 
title became extinct. 

The population of Weymouth and Melcombe Regis 
amounted to 6662 in 1821, and to 7655 in 1831 ; viz., 
Weymouth, 2529; Melcombe Regis, 5126. The total 
number of houses was 1465, of which 729 were rated 
at 10/. per annum. Including portions of the parishes 
of Wyke and Radipole, which were comprised within 
the parliamentary borough, in accordance with the 
recommendations of. the Boundary Commissioners, the 
population of the borough contained 8095 inhabitants 
hi 1831. The Commissioners of Inquiry into Muni- 
• cipal Corporations, printed in 1835, say: — "The town 
of Weymouth and Melcombe Regis must be considered 
at the present time as in a flourishing state. It is a 
watering-place frequented by numerous visiters, and 
having many respectable families permanently settled 

there." In 1833 tne number of foreign Teasels whiel 
entered the port with cargoes was 37; number d 
coasting-vessels with cargoes, 355. The number d 
registered vessels belonging to the" port is 89 ; tonnagf 
7175. Weymouth is the post-office station and poiai 
of departure between England and the islands of GueraJ 
sey, Jersey, &c. ; the correspondence with which placd 
is conveyed twice a week each way by steam- boats. Ttt 
markets are well supplied with all kinds of provision, 
and the fish is very excellent. In 1776 an act wa 
obtained for lighting, watching, and paving the streets, 
and for removing encroachments and straw thatch ftca 
buildings of every description. Weymouth is di tided 
from Melcombe Regis by an estuary, or arm of tis 
sea, which forms the harbour. It is narrow at Vj* 
mouth, where the bridge is thrown across, and mvkm 
like a bottle, but in an irregular manner. The lower 
part is called the Backwater, and a considerable porut: 
of the land, on which Melcombe Regis stands, has t*r: 
reclaimed from the Backwater. The process is & 
going on. This tongue of land is only sufficient fc 
the esplanade and road to the north-east ; but it is wiier 
towards the harbour. The houses on the esplanade 
are large and handsome, and extend nearly a mile is 
length. This is/the part of the borough which is moa I 
frequented by visiters. Weymouth proper still retail 
a good deal of the character of a fishing-town, the back 
streets being narrow and dirty. When the boroughs 
were united by the 13th of Elisabeth, the means d 
communication between them was by ferry-boats; bet 
in consequence of this circumstance, says an old ac- 
count of the place, they " conjoined themselves toge- 
ther by that fair bridge of timber which we see." In 
1598 Queen Elizabeth granted some advantages to the 
corporation for the better maintenance of the bridge. 
The bridge went to decay during the troubles in the 
reign of Charles I., and was rebuilt j and in 1712 ad 
1741 it was again rebuilt at the cost of the repress- 
tatives of the borough. In 1770 the bridge again re- 
quired re-building, and it was erected seventy yards 
west of its former position, contrary to the wishes of a 
great number of the inhabitants. Weymouth ranb 
the third in importance of the towns in Dorsetshire. 
It is eight miles distant from Dorchester, which is tbs 
county town ; 128 miles from London by land, asd 
88 leagues by sea ; and 65 miles from Bath. There i* 
no direct mail from London, but the letters are con- 
veyed by the Penzance, Falmouth, and Exeter mail, 
which passes through Dorchester before nine in the 
morning, and from thence they are forwarded im me- 
diately. Fashion has failed jn effecting for Weymouik 
that which it has doae for Brighton, principally in con- 
sequence of its being double the distance from the 
metropolis ; but the railroad by which it will be con- 
nected with Bath and Bristol, will probably contribute 
to the prosperity of Weymouth; and there are also 
works in progress which will place it in closer con- 
nexion with London. 

The earliest charter granted to the corporation vis 
given in 1252, by the prior of the church of St. Swythua, 
Winchester, and the convent of the same place, and it 
declared Weymouth a free port and a free town. Tfee 
charter was renewed on several occasions, and throufa 
the neglect of the corporate body was forfeited in 18u3, 
when a new charter was granted. Since the passing 
of the Municipal Reform Act, the town is divided inio 
two wards, which elect eighteen .councillors, by whom 
six aldermen are appointed. The number of electors 
qualified to vote at an election for a member to represent 
the borough in parliament is above 500. Municipal 
magistrates are appointed, whose commission is limited 
to the borough. 

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The Mackerel — (concluded). 
After mackerel are caught, they must be brought to 
market with the least possible loss of time, otherwise, 
from the perishable nature of this fish, they would be 
unfit for use before they reached the hands of the con- 
sumer. A bill was introduced into Parliament a few 
sessions ago, which prohibited any vessel under the 
burden of 200 tons from proceeding to sea on a Sunday. 
Such a regulation would have inflicted a serious injury 
on this fishery: and if the laws against Sunday trading 
were not tolerant with regard to the sale of mackerel, 
there would, in many instances, be three nights in the 
week when it would be useless for the boats to proceed 
to sea. The fishing-boats on some parts of the coast 
are attended by swift-sailing cutters, which proceed to 
Billingsgate, the most profitable market, the moment 
they can obtain a cargo. These vessels are generally 
the property of the London salesmen, and the fisher- 
men complain heavily of their being supplied by French 
boats, and that they are thus deprived of a species of 
protection to which they consider themselves entitled 
by law; as, with some exceptions, foreign fishermen 
cannot bring fish into our markets, whereas, under this 
system, the letter of the law is observed, and yet the 
fishermen are not protected from foreign competition. 
Less than one-fourth of the fish purchased at sea, which 
comprises the smaller portion of the total quantity 
brought to market, is purchased from the French boats. 
Tlie fishing-boats from some parts of the coast proceed 
direct to Billingsgate. A considerable proportion, pro- 
bably one-fourth, is brought up in vans, particularly 
from Yarmouth, Harwich, Dover, Folkstone, Hastings, 
&c. ; but this is far more expensive than water-carriage. 
It is true that the post-horses when employed in bring- 
ing up a van-load of fish are exempt from the post- 
horse duty ; but the tolls are very heavy, and it is 
ouly the dearest kinds of fish which are worth convey- 
ing in this expensive manner. The value of a Hastings 
cart of mackerel may be from 20/. to 30/., and this is 
a sufficient load for two horses ; but sometimes the 
quantity sent by one conveyance requires four and oc- 
casionally six horses, as the largest vans will contain 
about six two-horse loads. Before the Peace the quan- 
tity sent by the conveyances then used was two- thirds 
less than is now forwarded by one of the large vans. 
Ten carriages are frequently despatched from Hastings 
in a day ; and when there has been a Jarge take, a ves- 
sel is freighted with the fish which remains, and on its 
reaching the mouth of the Thames, a steam-tug is 
sometimes employed in order to reach the market at 
the most favourable time. By a saving of a single 
hour a man may gain from 20/. to 30/., and he may 
lose much more; for 10,000 mackerel, worth 200/. in 
the morning, would not be worth 20*. on the following 
day. If 15/. or 20/., therefore, be spent in obtaining 
the aid of a steam-tug, it is probable that more than 
double the sum will be gained by the outlay. 

The market at Billingsgate commences at five in the 
morning', and if a cargo of mackerel arrive at that hour, 
they will fetch probably from 48i. to 50*. per hundred ; 
but if the arrival takes place three or four hours after- 
wards, when the fishmongers are supplied, not more, per- 
haps, than from 30*. to 35s. per hundred can be obtained : 
and in the afternoon the price would be still further 
depressed. The mackerel-fishery, therefore, calls forth 
a greater amount of activity, intelligence, and enterprise 
than any other which is carried on around the shores of 
the United Kingdom. The operations connected with 
the herring and pilchard-fisheries, either of which is 
of greater commercial importance than the mackerel- 
fishery, demand more uniform efforts, and do not de- 
pend for success upon the accidents of an hour. Fish 
are naturally sabject to great fluctuations in price. A 

determined quantity is not the necessary result of a 
given amount of exertion, as in most other objects 
which are useful to man. The supply depends, as it 
were, upon accident ; and when the market is already 
well furnished, the sources from whence it is obtained 
may happen to be more than ordinarily productive; 
and this may be succeeded by a scarcity which no ex- 
ertion can remedy. As instances of the great variations 
of price which are experienced in this fishery, some 
examples, cited by Mr. Yarrell, may be quoted: — In 
May, 1807, the first Brighton boat-load of mackerel 
sold at Billingsgate for 40 guineas per hundred — 7s, 
each, reckoning six score to a hundred. The next boat- 
load produced but 13 guineas per hundred. At Dover, 
in 1808, mackerel were sold at sixty for Is. In 1834, 
they were cried through the streets of London at three 
for 1*. Mr. Yarrell mentions several instances of great 
success in this fishery. The value of the catch of six 
teen boats from Lowestoffe, on the 30th of June, 1831, 
amounted to 5252/. In March, 1833, on a Sunday, 
four Hastings boats brought on shore 10,800 fish, and 
the next day two boats brought 7000 fish. Early in 
the month of February, 1834, one boat's crew, from 
Hastings, cleared 100/. by the fish caught in a single 
night. The fish are sold by auction on the beach ; and 
at Billingsgate the dealers sell them in quantities above 
fifteen, which is the lowest number disposed of by 
wholesale; some dealers will not sell less than a hun- 
dred of six score. During the season about 100,000 
mackerel are brought to Billingsgate in the course ot 
one week. The uncertainty with regard to the com- 
mencement of the season, extends to prices, and to the 
success of each boat, and resembles a lottery, in which 
there are some high prices, and many scarcely worth 
striving for; but the hope of obtaining the former is 
the great stimulus to exertion. It is gratifying to learn 
that clubs are established in which the fishermen can 
insure their boats. Many of those who are employed 
in the mackerel season are agricultural labourers, who 
think they can obtain for a few weeks a higher remu- 
neration than by field labour. This, as well as other 
fisheries, were represented as being in a declining state 
when (he Committee on the Channel Fisheries was 
pursuing its inquiries in 1833. At Dover, where there 
were once thirty fishing-boats, there were then two ; at 
Kiugsdown the number had declined from twenty-two 
to eight ; at Deal there were two or three where there 
had once been forty. At Hastings there were 104 
fishing-boats in 1811, and only forty in 1833; and it 
is stated in some other places that as the old bouts 
became unfit for sea they were not replaced by new 
ones. It is quite certain that these statements do not 
afford a correct view of the case, so far as the fisheries 
in general are concerned. At Barking, for instance, 
the number of fishingnvessels is 120, and they have 
increased one-third since the Peace; and the same 
thing may have taken place elsewhere. Besides, during 
the war, the boats kept ostensibly for the purpose of 
fishing were in reality often engaged in smuggling; 
and the great falling off which is represented as hav- 
ing taken place at Dover, Folkstone, and some other 
towns on the coast, is owiag to the diminished en- 
couragement which the smuggler finds under a wiser 
tariff. It may be remarked, also, that the decline in 
the number of fishing-boats is generally greatest in 
places which are in the best position for carrying on a 
contraband trade with the opposite coast. A question 
also arises whether the demand for fish has fallen off or 
increased ; or whether it has remained stationary since 
the Peace. If it has rather increased, at least the same 
number of boats and men must be employed as before, 
unless some improved method of taking fish has been 
discovered. The decline of a fishing-station in one 
quarter has therefore probably been counterbalanced by 

Digitized by 




(Apul 1, 

the prosperity of another elsewhere. If the demand has 
really fallen off, then it is easy to perceive that consider- 
able distress must have ensued amongst the fishermen ; 
and that they are in a somewhat similar condition to the 
makers of an article of apparel which has been long in 
demand but is going out of fashion. There are, how- 
ever, grievances of which the fishermen may complain 
with justice, though it is difficult perhaps to apply an 
adequate remedy. They are — 1st, the restrictions en- 
forced by the licensing system, which probably might be 
advantageously modified ; 2nd, the injuries occasioned 
by the French fishermen procuring bait in the breeding 
season on our coasts, while they are restricted from 
fishing on their own coast during certain periods ; and 
they thus enjoy the full advantage to be derived from 
these protected grounds, while at the same time they 
are not restricted either as to time or place on any part 
of the English coast; 3rd, the frequent occurrence of 
vexatious interference and molestation on the part of 
the French fishermen ; who, conducting their operations 
on a larger scale than the English fisherman, the latter 
is unable to protect himself from occasional injury. 
The French fishing-vessels are much larger than our 
own ; their fishing-gear is of a much larger and heavier 
description, and they are manned by double or triple 
the number of men. The number of vessels belonging 
to the port of Boulogne is between 200 and 300. By 
a regulation of the French government these vessels are 
required to be manned with not fewer than eighteen or 
twenty hands, and the English boats being manned by 
only half this number of hands, are unable to resist any 
aggressions on the part of their competitors, who fre- 
quently order them to leave a ground in which fish are 
abundant, or examine the nets of the English fishermen 
iu order to ascertain if he has been successful, when 
they probably put down their own nets and injure those 
belonging to the English boats. These practices have 
been a subject of complaint for several years, especially 
in the mackerel and herring seasons, which the 
harvest of the fisherman. 

A petition from the owners and masters of vessels 

employed in the mackerel-fishery at Brighton hisT>ccn 
presented to Parliament during the present session, 
praying that protection may be afforded them from the 
injury they are constantly sustaining from the French 
trawl boats. The petitioners state that they have in- 
vested above 10,000/. in procuring twenty-three mac- 
kerel-boats, furnished with suitable nets, which, as 
they float on the surface of the water, extend to a mile 
and a half or two miles in length, and that they are 
frequently cut asunder and injured by the French 
boats. The Committee of 1833 recommended that, 
as the fishermen of England were not allowed to fish 
within three leagues of the French coast, foreign fisher- 
men should be prevented at all seasons of the year from 
fishing within one league, or such other distance of tw 
English coast, as by the law or usage of nations » 
considered to belong exclusively to this country; $o 
that the fishermen of England might at least be placed 
upon an equal footing with those of foreign States, as 
regards the protection afforded to them by their own 
country. They further recommended, that during the 
spawning season the breeding places should be pro- 
tected ; and that foreign fishermen should be compelled 
to observe the laws which should be imposed on the 
English fishermen also for the preservation of the 
spawn. The revenue cruisers and officers of Customs 
might, it was conceived, be intrusted with the power ot 
enforcing these regulations. 

The first engraving represents the crew of a French 
boat angling for mackerel, as described in No .319. 
The second illustrates a scene which may frequently be 
witnessed at an active fishing-town — a Dutch auction. 
The plan is to separate the fish into heaps as soon as 
they are landed ; and the persons desirous of purchas- 
ing being assembled, one of the fishermen or owners o 
the boat acts as salesman, and names a price above in* 
real value, at the same time elevating a large stone 
with which to " knock down" a lot. A lot which may 
ultimately sell at 40j. is offered at 60s., the salesman 
rapidly naming a lower price until he gets a bid, when 
the stone descends to the ground, an4 the first bidder 

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is thus the purchaser. The descending" instead of an | the price approaches nearer the actual worth than 
ascending sale enables the sellers to get through their when feelings of rivalry are allowed to display them 
work more quickly; and it is, perhaps, the fairest, for | selves. 

[Dutcb Auction— Fiiaennen telling Mackerel on the Beach at Hasting*! k 

A fair in England is generally a matter of no great 
importance ; in and near London it is a gathering 
together of a dense crowd for the pursuit of riotous en- 
joyment, or the purchase of toys and sweetmeats ; in the 
country a large market for the disposal of one or two 
particular articles of merchandise is often the principal 
object, and the rustic youths join in some of the sports 
of old England, which are now everywhere declining 
except at such seasons. But in the extensive countries 
of the East, scantily peopled, and ill furnished with the 
means of rapid communication, a fair is a very different 
thing. It is the mode by which the commercial affairs 
of great nations are carried on ; it is a vast assemblage 
of people of various nations, congregating to one spot 
for the purpose of bartering their commodities, which, 
from the absence of safe channels of communication, 
and a want of knowledge of transacting business in 
any other way, must otherwise remain in the places of 
their production. 

The town of Nijnei Novgorod Is the spot on which 
one of these fairs is annually held. This town is about 
300 miles east of Moscow ; it is built upon the right, 
or east, bank of the Volga, on a piece of rising ground, in 
an angle formed by the river Oka, which joins the Volga 
here. In the * Russian Geographical Dictionary,' Nijnei 
Novgorod is stated to have been built in 1222, by 
George Vsevolodovich III., the conqueror of the Mord- 
wans ; a pagan race, then possessors of immense ter- 
ritories in this remote part of Europe, whose descen- 
dants, now spread over the same country, are partially 

converted to Christianity, though still retaining much 
of their ancient manners and superstitions. It was 
twice sacked by the Tartars, in the fourteenth century, 
and nearly all its population massacred. It recovered, 
however, from these evils, steadily increased, and was 
erected into an archbishopric in 1672; It has two 
cathedrals, and twenty-six churches. Its environs are 
fertile and agreeable, and its population nearly 15,000. 
Its admirable situation, at the confluence of two of the 
largest rivers of Russia, and nearly in the centre of the 
empire, has induced many Russians to consider it worthy 
of being the capital. This town must not be confounded 
with Novgorod, which is between 600 and 700 miles 
distant from it : it is distinguished by the addition of 
the word Nijnei, meaning inferior, though at present 
much the larger town of the two. 

This fair is of ancient date, though it has been held 
at Nijnei not quite twenty years. It was instituted 
more than 300 years ago, in consequence of the mas- 
sacre of a number of Russian merchants, who were tra- 
ding at Kazan, a town then under the dominion of the 
Tartars, who had, at no distant period, been masters of 
the whole empire. The Tsar, to avoid such an event 
in future, commanded his subjects to abstain from 
visiting the Tartar provinces, and appointed the con- 
vent of Makariev, a place about sixty miles below 
Nijnei, as their rendezvous for trading with the eastern 
tribes. This in time became an important market; 
long ranges of shops were built, and thousands of per- 
sons from all parts of Russia and the adjoining coun- 
tries came annually to exchange commodities. An 

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accidental fire, on August 30, 1816, destroyed the 
buildings connected with the fair, and the government 
took advantage of the circumstance to transfer the whole 
establishment to Nijnei, the site of which, at the con- 
fluence of two great rivers, rendered it so suitable for 
the purpose. Measures were taken for building large 
ranges of shops or bazaars at Nijnei, on the bank of 
the Oka, opposite the town, and on the 1st August, 
1817, the fair was opened. 

The fair of Nijnei Novgorod was thus not a new 
establishment, but simply the transfer of an old one, 
full-grown, to a more favourable situation. In fact, 
long before the transfer, Nijnei had been the seat of a 
very considerable commerce, and although the sta- 
tionary population of the place was only 10,000 in the 
early part of the century, from 60,000 to 70,000 stran- 
gers periodically assembled there for the purposes of 

The most recent account of the fair we have met 
with is from an intelligent French traveller, Mons. 
Bussiere, who visited Nijnei in September, 1829. He 
reached the town from the Moscow road, and mentions, 
as illustrative of the deserted nature of the country, 
even in the vicinity of a large town, that two fine bears 
leisurely crossed the public road before his carriage, at 
no great distance from Nijnei. On entering the city 
Mons. Bussiere says, "everything was in a bustle, the 
streets were crammed with merchants and pedlars, who 
were carrying about, displaying, and crying their wares: 
the loud talking, the disputes, and cries produced a stun- 
ning sensation. The bustle seemed to be rather that 
of a large country fair than that of a national market, 
where twenty different nations were met to exchange 
the produce of their industry ; in fact, we soon found 
that this was the case, and that the real fair of Nijnei 
was held on the further bank of the Oka, and not in 
the town where we now were." 

As it was at fair-time, when 200,000 strangers were 
in the place, the traveller found the usual vexations of 
a Russian town much increased. The smell of the 
brandy-shops, which were (he only houses of entertain- 
ment to be met with, and the number of their occupants 
pouriujr down quass and vodki, deterred him from en- 
tering them. The lucky chance of meeting with a 
countryman residing on the spot saved him from star- 
vation, or from what he seemed to dread still more, a 
Russian dinner. Beds were quite out of the question, 
clean straw was a desideratum ; but all that could be 
got, after a two hours' search, was a scanty provision of 
hay, not over clean. For this accommodation, in a little 
wooden apartment, with a table and four chairs, he had 
to pay bs. a day. 

An ascent to the Kreml, or fortress, which stood on 
a considerable elevation, afforded a fine view of the 
town. " The houses, built upon a rather steep descent, 
stood, one below another, at our feet with a pleasing 
irregularity, and reached as far as the regular ranges of 
gardens, churches, and houses, which adorned the plain 
between the foot of the hill and the river. Beyond was 
the Oka, a broad and quiet stream, slowly rolling its 
waters to unite them with those of the celebrated Volga. 
A large sand-bank occupied the middle of the current, 
and this unstable spot was connected with the two 
shores by bridges of boats, covered with a noisy crowd. 
The sandy isle was encumbered with herds of horses, 
piles of merchandise, thousands of waggons, huts, and 
tents ; on the further bank was seen the bazaars, con- 
stituting the place of the fair, in all their imposing 

The bridge of the Oka seems scarcely to have been 
suited by size or strength for the immense traffic of 
which it was the channel. *• You may have seen peo- 
ple," observes Mons. Bussiere, '• hurrying on and elbow- 
ing each other through a narrow passage; now, instead 

of foot-passengers, imagine carriages, droskis, waggons 
drawn by four horses, and followed by eight or tea 
spare ones. Imagine these equipages at full spetd 
upon a wooden bridge, whose ill-fastened planks shook 
up and down with a frightful noise; then suppose, in 
the midst of this terrible bustle, a number of mujiks 
[peasants] on half-wild horses, without bridle or saddle, 
cossacks with horses at full gallop, and some hundreds 
of foot-passengers in oriental costume, and you uiil 
have an idea of the crowds of men, horses, and carriages 
on the bridge of the Oka." 

The plan of the fair, as published at Moscow, in 1624, 
shows about sixty ranges of shops, or bazaars, eadi 
marked according to its destination. There are the 
Chinese, Armenian, and Siberian rows ; ranges for fruits, 
provisions, salt-fish, clothes, hats, rags, paper, soap, iroo, 
steel, copper, china, glass, Ac. &c. All these rangs 
are placed in uniform order, with sufficient space i* 
tween them for the passage of persons having business 
at each shop, who are of course very numerous. A 
much wider opening intersects the whole fair from west 
to east, where a church is built, exactly opposite the 
opening. Each range has from forty to fifty shops 
and ail are regularly numbered. It is computed that 
the number of shops now exceeds 4000, and that if ex- 
tended in one line, it would considerably exceed twelve 

Large as this appears, it is not sufficient to contain 
all the merchandise brought to Nijnei. The more 
bulky wares, and such as demand a less careful pre- 
servation, are piled up in long rows on the banks of tbe 
river, under the shelter of tents or sheds. In this way 
are deposited, tea, iron, salt, furs, skins, bark of trees, 
&c. These articles extend a great way along the river; 
a line of three miles in extent is occupied by the proriuce 
of the forests in the neighbourhood of the Ural moun- 
tains : thercare, amongst other things* potash, waggons, 
kibitkis, rough articles of furniture, felloes of wheels; 
these last-mentioned articles present a singular show; 
they are not formed in separate pieces, as the circles of 
wheels with us, but are bent while still growing into 
the required shape; and the piece of oak which when 
green was made to assume a circular form, retains it 
unaltered when dry. The lofty piles of these hoops 
were likened by Mons. Bussiere to the towers of a for- 

In addition to the bustle on land, the river also 
is covered with its population. Above 1000 vessels 
are usually lying in the neighbourhood of the m> 
These are chiefly of an Asiatic form and appearance; 
some are whimsically painted with a great variety ol 
the most gaudy colours, glittering in the sunshine. 
Others are ornamented with brilliant suns, manufac- 
tured of scarlet stuff, and furnished with golden ray* 
Two or three sober-looking steam-boats in the tti&t . 
this gay assemblage, like the dingy Europeau dress m 
comparison with the flowing Asiatic costume, affor j 
curious contrast, and furnish an object of wonder to 
half-savage tribes who visit this remote region. 

The additional population of Nijnei at fair-u" e J£ 
been already stated to amount to tbout 200,000. 
majority of this is Russian, but theie are also ve !j in ^ 
strangers. The chief of these art Bukharians, fcad 
Tartars, and Siberians; there are also P^^TfU, 
nians, Kirghis, Calmucs, Bashkirs, Greeks, and 1^ 
and a few from the remote countries of Thibet, 
mere, and Hindustan. The Chinese in old tunc ?j is j,. 
quented the fair of Makariev, but since the esta 
ment of the trading ports of Kiakta and Mainja^J 
on the borders of Mongolia, they rarely come l" 
westward. . . • aS 

The general appearance of the shops in the ta<r » 
might be supposed, of the most miscellaneous de ^ 
tign j something of everything may be seen there, 

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the rick display of jewellery, plate, and fashionable" 
dresses, which would not disgrace London or Paris, 
down to the petty booth where brandy or quass is 
retailed to the weary traveller or thirsty sot. The 
curious variety of costume presented is stated to be 
very interesting; and here may be seen and studied 
the peculiarities of oriental nations, whose homes have 
always been inaccessible to Europeans, and whose ex- 
clusive habits would render investigation more difficult 
in their own country if it were accessible. In almost 
every shop, the owners, when unoccupied in business, 
may be seen engaged in a game of chess, of which the 
liussians, as well as most oriental nations, are extra- 
vagantly fond. But in all this concourse of people, 
scarcely a woman is to be seen. The Asiatic visiters, 
who at home exclude women from public society, would 
naturally bring none with them, and the Russians who 
visit Nijnei are said to partake this exclusive feeling: 
the truth most probably is, that as the great majority 
of Russians are only temporary visiters, they find it 
more convenient to leave their wives behind them, 
than to bring them to a place where their presence 
would be inconvenient, and little gratifying to them- 
selves. Even in France and England, under similar 
circumstances, the custom would be the same. 

It was com pu tec by Mons. Bussiere, in 1829, that 
merchandise to the amount of 100,000,000 of rubles 
were disposed of annually, of which about three-fifths 
were of Russian growth or manufacture. He gives 
the value of the principal articles as follows : — 

Ruble*. lbs. weight 

Tea 12,000,000— 2,000,000 

Furs from Siberia • 8,000,000 to 9,000,000 

Leather from Astra- 
khan . • • 3,000,000,, 4,000,000 

Russian manufactured 

cotton . . 15,000,000 ,,18,000,000 

Silk . . . 9,000,000 ,,10,000,000 

Iron . . . 10,000,000 

Copper . « 2,500,000 

Salt Fish . . 1,500,000 

Colonial Goods . 8,000,000 „ 10,000,000 

Foreign Wines and 

Spirits . • 4,000,000 

A Russian official document gives the whole amount 
for the year 1820 at 94,350,000 rubles, made up as 

follows: — 


Chinese goods .... 14,800,000 

Bukharian do. . • . 5,500,000 

Persian do. . . . • 1,000,000 

Turkish do 3,800,000 

Foreign European do. • . 16,700,000 

Russian do. . . . 52,550,000 


The ruble is what the Russians term the ruble assignat, 
and is in value about lOrf. 

These results appear at first sight very large, and 
would seem to give a magnificent idea of a nation that 
could maintain such a trade at a single town. But, 
in fact, the very existence of such a trade is a proof of 
a want of internal communication, and of the insuffi- 
ciency of general industry in comparison with the ex- 
tent of territory to be supplied. A curious example of 
this is found in the circuitous way in which skins of 
Astrakhan reach their ultimate destination. On their 
way to Nijnei from Astrakhan, they pass by Kazan, 
a large town on the Volga, where the chief tanneries in 
that part of the empire are established. At Nijnei they 
are purchased by the Kazan tanner, who carries them 
baek to his tan-yard. There they are manufactured 
into leather, and the following year are again carried 
to the fair, and sold to be dispersed through the empire, 
some perhaps to find their way once more back to 


•.From a Correspondent.] 

This little animal is generally so well known in every 
part of the country, that an elaborate delineation of its 
appearance and propensities could scarcely, I conceive, 
be interesting. Like the whole class of animals to 
which it belongs, it is prone to the commission of 
depredations on the feathered creation ; and although 
the common weasel is but a slendei tiny creature, so 
that a small chicken or duckling would appear abun- 
dantly sufficient to satisfy the cravings of its keenest 
appetite, yet it is quite a common occurrence to find jt 
destroying full-grown ducks and fowls, and sometimes 
even geese and turkeys. There are numerous instances 
on record of the weasel destroying full-grown rabbits 
and hares, — not to feed upon their carcases, but for the 
sake of banqueting on their warm life-blood. I once 
had an opportunity of witnessing a weasel make an 
attack upon a hare while it was feeding in a grassy 
meadow on a fine summer evening. When my atten- 
tion was first attracted to the encounter, the weasel 
had just sprung upon and seized the hare by the upper 
part of the neck, fixing its sharp fangs in the region 
of the larger blood-vessels ; the astonished and alarmed 
hare was making various ineffectual efforts to shake it 
off, — first darting in one direction, then in another, 
and then bounding aloft into the air, — but all her efforts 
were to no purpose. When poor puss was in rapid 
motion, the little blood-thirsty assassin had enough 
to do to keep its hold ; but when she became compara- 
tively still for a moment, it would mount upon her 
back — or attempt to do so — in order to gain a little 
rest ; but it never let go the deadly hold its sharp teeth 
had first taken. The struggle might have continued 
for nearly a quarter of an hour when the hare sunk 
upon the grass; and issuing from my hiding-place I 
hastened to the rescue. But alas! it was too late. The 
little villain retreated as I approached, but with an ex- 
ceedingly bad grace, for it chattered and scolded in its 
peculiar language, and emitted that offensive odour 
peculiar to this species of animals ; but as I was unpro- 
vided with any sort of weapon, it finally succeeded in 
reaching a place of security in an adjoining hollow 
bank. In examining its victim, which was still alive, 
although not able to stand, I found a rather large and 
lacerated wound in the upper part of the neck, from 
which the blood was still flowing ; but certainly not of 
a magnitude to have caused the hare's death, if the 
large arteries had not been opened from which it was 
evidently bleeding to death. 

That the weasel is a remarkably courageous and de- 
termined little animal, the following statement, which 
was related to me by the individual on whom the 
attack was made, and but a few days after the curious 
adventure occurred, will tend strongly to prove ; and 
also will show that, diminutive as it is, it is not at all 
times to be trifled with even by " the lords of the crea- 

B 1 F 1, or " Old Biddy," as she was more 

generally called, was an itinerant tea-dealer in a wild 
and mountainous district of the county of Westmore- 
land. She had been left a poor and lone widow, and 
for some years after she became such, was mainly sup- 
ported on the fruits of the industry of an only and 
affectionate son. But a melancholy accident deprived 
him of his life, and his aged parent of his filial assist- 
ance and support ; in consequence of which a plan was 
devised by a distant relative, and some of " Old Biddy's r 
benevolent neighbours, to put her in a way to earn a 
small pittance for an honest livelihood. They effected 
their laudable purpose by furnishing her with the means 
of laying in a small stock of tea, not only for the supply 
of the little hamlet in which she resided, but it was 
recommended that she should occasionally " travel for 

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[Awit U 1837, 

It wit in one of those little excursions through 
the wild district in which she resided — for her business 
sometimes took her six or eight miles from home — that 
she was pat in extreme bodily fear;"snd had it not 
been that she was armed with a good-sized staff, and 
habited withal in garments of ** stout double-milled 
home-spoil," there is strong reason to believe that she 
would hate fallen a victim to a numerous party of infu- 
riated weasels. But she shall relate the event in her 
own way. Who that has erer travelled by that great 
north-road, leading from Liverpool and Manchester 
northward to Carlisle and ** the Land o'Cakes," does 
not remember that most dreary and forlorn-looking 
portion of it, known by the appellation of " Snap 
Fells." It was on these very " Fells " that our itinerant 
tea-merchant one day was making her monthly circuit 
to some lone cottage situated among the heath ami the 
bent, arid the melancholy bleakness of the surrounding 
hills ; while in one hand she carried her stock of teas, 
tied up in an old blue pocket-handkerchief, amounting 
probably to three or four pounds, and already made up 
into packages of half-pounds, quarters, and half-quar- 
ters, to suit her customers, while her other hand firmly 
embraced that staff which was soon to deal death and 
destruction to quite unexpected assailants. Being some- 
what weary with her long walk, and observing an irre- 
gular pile of lichen-covered stones, not far from the 
mountain path that led to the cottage she was bound 
to (which might probably yet be a mile distant), she 
approached the stone-heap, and having selected one 
with a tolerably smooth surface, seated herself without 
the slightest suspicion of being an unwelcome intruder. 
She had scarcely, however, got her bundle safely de- 
posited, and her aged limbs nestled into the seat which 
nature had so kindly provided for her, when she ob- 
served a weasel peep from beneath a mossy stone, 
within a few feet of her resting-place ; at the same time 
uttering certain sounds indicative of its manifest dis- 
pleasure. •* I saw the thing was angry," relates the 
old woman, " but I had often seen a vexed weasel 
before, and therefore thought but little about it. But 
presently a second, and a third, and a fourth made 
their appearance, all e? incing evident tokens of dis- 
pleasure. I had been looking at the two or three 
that grinned, and cherred, and chattered, in a way I 
must confess I did not much admire, when on looking 
in a contrary direction, to the place where I had put 
down my bundle, I verily believe there were over a 
score chattering and tearing at the blue handkerchief. 
I think I should have let them have the tea quietly, 
although God knows I could have ill afforded to lose 
so much ! but when I got up to away, I believe another 
score at the fewest came running up right in front of 
me. Some of them were already within the reach of 
my walking-stick, so I struck at two or three of the 
nasty impudent things, but in a minute four or five of 
them were scrambling up my clothes, and one or two 
got as high as my neck and shoulders. I now struck, 
and kicked, and punched, and screamed, and in truth I 
scarcely know what I did ; and although I know that I 
killed and lamed a few of them, yet I sincerely believe 
they would have got the better of me at last, if it had 
not pleased Providence so to direct it, that a shepherd's 
dog, having been attracted to the place by the skirmish 
I was making, came to the top of a neighbouring bank 
and began to bark with all its might ; and the instant 
the vermin heard the barking of the dog, they all disap- 
peared under the large stones, except perhaps some 
half-dozen that I had managed to discomfit. But I 
did not stay to count them, for, hastily snatching up 
my torn bundle, I ran faster than I remember to have 
done for many a long year ; and I took good care in 
future not to come near any more stone-heaps.*' This, 
as nearly as possible, was the exact relation given by 

"Old Biddy," of her strange adventure with the 
weasels, and at the time when every circumstance was 
fresh in her memory, and before the bites and scratches 
upon her person had wholly disappeared. 

I believe there are other instances on record where 
weasels have been found assembling in large companies, 
which, on their being molested or annoyed, have offered 
battle to the human species. Although I cannot pre- 
cisely state that a regular attack was ever made by 
them personally upon myself, yet they once mastered 
in so formidable a party, and exhibited a manner so 
insolent and daring, that I was not only deterred from 
carrying a little project against them into effect, bet 
was actually so cowed by their audacious bearing that 
I fled from the scene of action. This event, also, took 
place in a secluded little valley in Westmoreland. It 
was during the Christmas holidays, the ground being 
covered with snow, and the mountain streams firmly 
bound up in ice, that I determined upon trying my 
luck at capturing some marauding little animals that 
nightly left their foot-prints upon the snow in the bot- 
tom of a lone and sequestered dell, where were sone 
dilapidated stone walls that, at a remote period* had 
probably formed a portion of some rude bat oaiet 
dwelling. For this purpose I provided a coople of 
traps, and, in order to make success more fgfHss, I 
baited them with a few small birds which I fetf suc- 
ceeded in capturing. Thus prepared I reacSed the 
bank of the small brook near to the ruined waff £ and 
the only difficulty that now presented itself was tinJbid 
something to chain my traps to, so that the weasel** or 
the foumarts, or whatever else the nightly ptwifcii 
might be, should not have it in their power tcf carry 
them off. But finding nothing to. answer my psnpose 
I was under the necessity of returning home, isrnrder 
to supply myself with a couple of stakes,- and annate to 
drive them into the frozen ground. ' Whatever had oc- 
curred in the vicinity of my traps during my absence, 
of course I cannot take upon me to say ; but, upon my 
return, I had no sooner commenced driving one off he 
stakes into the ground, than at the least a dosen little 
heads were perking from as many holes in the old wall, 
and sundry sets of sharp teeth were exhibited, ready, as 
I imagined, to tear him who had been meditating their 
destruction. I was then twelve or thirteen yean of 
age, and had neither seen nor heard of a whole pack of 
angry weasels, so that at -first -I was not much alarmed; 
but as I continued the operation of driving my stakes, 
the whole party advanced towards me, grinning and 
barking and grimacing, and, to confess the truth, suc- 
ceeded in driving me out of the lonely dell, leaving my 
traps baited, but not set, behind me. When I got 
home and related this singular adventure to the assem- 
bled family, they could scarcely credit so strange a cir- 
cumstance; but prevailing upon my elder brother to 
accompany me on the following morning to revisit 
my traps, he became convinced, from the numerous 
tracks in the snow, that I had considerably under-rated 
the number of weasels that had advanced to the charge 
when I retreated from the valley. The traps we found 
just as I had left them ; for although the sparrows with 
which they were baited might have been carried off 
with impunity, not a single feather thereof had been 
touched- or ruffled! But all was silent and lifeless — 
no sentinel appeared to give warning; and when I 
had coaxed my brother to explore the old wall, the 
place of their abiding, not the slightest signs of its 
being inhabited could he by any means discover. 

%• The Office of tlie Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge U at 
59, Lincoln's Inn Fields. 


Printed by W illxam Clowss and Sow, Stamford Slaset. 

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Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. 



[April 8, 1837 

Inns, Hotels, Taverns, and Public-Housks 

[The Old Blue 

In the statutes for the regulation of the city of London, 
which were made 552 years ago (in 1285, the thirteenth 
year of the reign of Edward I.), it is complained that 
" divers persons do resort unto the city," — foreigners 
and others, some of them suspicious characters, who 
had fled from their own country, or had been banished 
— and "of these some do become brokers, hostelers, 
and innkeepers within the city as freely as though they 
were good and lawful men of the franchise of the 
city ; and some do nothing but run up and down 
through the streets, more by night than by day, and 
are well attired in clothing and array, and have their 
food of delicate meats and costly ; neither do they use 
any craft or merchandise, nor have they any lands or 
tenements whereof to live, nor any friend to find them ; 
and through such persons many perils do ofteu happen 
in the city." To remedy these mischiefs, no foreigner 
was to be allowed to become an innkeepei or hosteler 
unless he was a freeman of the city. It was also com- 
plained that " offenders going about by night do com- 
monly resort and have their meetings and evil talk in 
taverns more than elsewhere, and there do seek for 
shelter, lying in wait, and watching their time to do 
mischief/' To put a stop to this, none were to keep 
Vol, VI. 

Boar, Holborn.] 

taverns for the sale of wine and ale open after the 
tolling of the curfew. 

Chaucer, in his prologue to the * Canterbury Tales,' 
celebrates the Tabard, now called the Talbot, inn, in 
Southwark : — 

" Befell that, in that sen son on a day, 
In Southwark at the Tabard as I lay, 
Ready to wenden on my pilgrimage 
To Canterbury with devout courage,* 

and he tells us the entertainment which the company of 

pilgrims received — 

"Great cheer made eur host everich on, 
And to the supper set he us anon ; 
And served us with vitail of the best, 
Strong was the wine, and well to drink us leste.'' 

Of the cook who accompanied the party it is said— 

u Well could he know a draught of London ale." 
London ale was probably the best of that time, a cha- 
racter which has been since usurped iu some measure 
by London porter. 

Lydgate, a priest and voluminous poet, m* rather 
rhymer, who flourished at the ond of the 14th and 
beginning of the 15th centuries, (he was a young mam 
when Chaucer was pld,) has left a poem, entitled, 


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[Aran. 8, 

c Londos Lyckpenny,' the whole of which is given in 
Strutt's * View of Manners,' and a portion of it in 
* Ellis's Specimens of the Early English Poets/ Two 
or three verses of it will convey an idea of the appear- 
ance London presented to a stranger upwards of 400 
years ago. Lydgate supposes his hero to have arrived 
at Westminster Hall in quest of redress for some legal 
wrong. Westminster and London were then distinct 
cities, separated by the country. The penniless stranger 
Ifaving failed in obtaining the redress he sought for in 
Westminster Hall, turns away, and he is assailed by 
Flemings, who ask him what he will buy ? 

" Fine felt hats, or spectacles to read, 

Lay down your silver, and here you may speed." 

He then goes to Westminster Gate, and cooks offer 
hi nj bread, with ale and wine, and " ribs of beef," 

" A fair cloth they Ran for to spread, 

But, wanting money, I might not be aped." 

So from Westminster he goes on to Loudon : — 

' Then unto London I did me hie, 

Of all the land it beareth the price, 
1 Jlot peascods I * one begau to cry, 

1 Strawberry ripe, and cherries in then set* [on the twig.] 
One bid me come near and buy some spice ; 
Pepper and saffron they gun me bede, [bid] 
But for lack of money I might not speed. 

Then to the Cheap I gan me drawn 

Where much people I saw fur to stand ; 
Que offered me velvet, silk, and lawn, 
! Another he taketh me by the hand, 
' Here is Paris thread, the finest in the land ! ' 
I never was used to such things, indeed, 
Aud, wanting money, I might not speed. 

Then went .1 forth by London stone, 

Throughout all Canwyke | Cannon] Street, 
Drapers much cloth me offered anon : 

Then comes me one cried ' hot sheep's feet t 
One cried mackerel, rysses [rushes] green another gan greet 

One bade me buy a hood to eover my head, 
But, for want of money, I might not be sped. 

Then I hied me unto East Cheap, 

One cries ribs of beef, and many a pie, 
Pewter pots they clattered on a heap ; 
There was harp, pipe, and minstrel t»y ; 
Yea, by cock, nay, by cock, some began err. 
Some sung of Jenken and July an fur their meed ; 
But, for lack of money, I might not speed. 

Then into Cornhill anon I yode [went] 
, Where was much stolen gear : among 
I saw where hung mine own hood 
That I had lost among the throng ; 
To buy my own hood I thought it wrong : 
I knew it, well as I did my creed, 
But, for lack of money, I could not speed. 

• The tavemer took me by the sleeve, 

1 Sir,' saith he, ' will you our wine assay ? • 
I answered, * that can not much roe grieve, 

A penny can do no more than it may ;' 

I drank a pint, and for it did pay ; 
Yet, sore a-hungered, from thence 1 yede, 
And, wanting money, I could not speed." 

In Edward the Sixth's reign an Act was passed (7th 
Edward VI. c. 5—1552) to " avoyde the great price 
and excess of wynes," in tht preamble of which it is 
stated that there was u muche evill rule and common 
resort of misruled persones used and frequented iu 
many taverns of late newly sett uppe in very great 
nonmbre in back lanes, corners, and suspicious places 
withyn the cytie of London, and in divers other towns 
and villages within this realme." The number of 
taverns to be licensed in London was restricted to forty, 
and in Westminster to three. 

There is, in No. 170 of the * Penny Magazine,' a 
brief account of the number of inns in London in 1084. 
It appears that the whole number of inns in London 
at that period was eighty-two. Of this number the 
most important appear to have been the Castle, Smith- 

field ; .Red Lion, Aldersgate Street ; Bear and Ragged 
Staff, Smithfield ; Belle Sauvage, Ludgate Hill ; Bull, 
Bishopsgate Street; Castle, Wood Street; George, 
Hblborn Bridge; George, Aldersgate Street; Queens 
Head, Southwark ; White Swan, Hoi born Bridge ; 
Blossoms, Lawrence Lane ; Spread Eagle, Grace- 
church Street. The majority of these are still among 
our respectable inns, especially as coaching and com- 
mercial establishments, though of course they are 
eclipsed by the splendour of our modern hotels. 

At present in the metropolis there are 396 ions, 
hotels, and taverns, many of them magnificent, all of 
them more or less spacious and extensive establishments. 
If to this we add a number of large private boarding 
houses, we shall have at least 430 houses for the recep- 
tion and entertainment of strangers residing tempo- 
rarily in London. But this is exclusive of the grtu 
number of licensed victuallers (t. e. keepers of pubk 
houses), especially in the city and about the docks, 
who accommodate strangers, of coffee-rooms and eatin*- 
houses, some of which have lodging-houses attached to 
them, and of the many private houses which are pro- 
fessionally lodging-houses. Of the numbers of the** 
we cannot arrive at any satisfactory approximation. 

The number of fashionable hotels — that is, of esta- 
blishments where everything is on the highest scale of 
elegance and expense, and which may be fitly termed 
palace-inns — is about thirty. They are all situated, 
as might be naturally expected, at the " west end. ' 
For instance, Mivart (a well-known name in the lists 
of fashionable arrivals and departures) has two hotcK 
one in Brook Street, Grosvenor Square, the other in 
Davis Street, Berkeley Square ; Warren's Hotel is h 
Regent Street ; Fen ton's in St. James's Street ; Li tu- 
rner's in George Street, Hanover Square; the Claren- 
don, both in New Bond Street and in Albemarle Street; 
the Burlington, in Old Burlington Street; Wright's 
Hotel, in Dover Street, Piccadilly ; and so of the rest, 
all of them lying at no very considerable distance frutn 
each other. The increase of hotels has, however, been 
much checked by the establishment of " Club*," of 
which we may have to speak hereafter. 

The commercial inns are more scattered about Lon- 
don. Many of these, though not aiming at the ele- 
gance of the fashionable hotels, are yet wealthy, long- 
established, and comfortable houses. Those from which 
the mail-coaches run are the Golden Cross, at Charing 
Cross ; the Bolt-in-Tun, Fleet Street ; the White Hors*, 
Fetter Lane; the Bell and Crown, Holborn ; the Sara- 
cen's Head, Snowhill ; the Swan with two Necks, Lad 
Lane ; the Spread Eagle, Gracechurch Street, the Belk 
Sauvage, Ludgate Hill; and the Bull and Mouth, 
opposite the General Post Office, in St. Martin Vle- 
Grand. There are a number of other inns, which, 
though not running mail coaches, are yet extensive 
stage-coach establishments; and many others which 
are eminent as waggon inns. The engraving at the 
head of this article represents the " George and Blue 
Boar/' in Holborn, as it appeared some years ago. It 
has since been considerably altered, and the open gal- 
leries no longer exist. 

Some of the taverns are well known, from their con- 
nexion with political, charitable, or festive meetings. 
Such, for instance, are the London, and the City of 
London taverns, both in Bishopsgate Street ; the Al- 
bion, in Aldersgate Street ; the Crown and Anclior, in 
the Strand ; the Freemasons' Tavern, in Lincoln s Inn 
Fields ; the British Coffee-house aud Tavern, in Cock- 
spur Street; the London Coffee-house and Tavern on 
Ludgate Hill ; and even, to go out of the heart of Lou- 
don to its southern verge, the Horns Tavern fronting 
Kennington Common. Other taverns have various 
characteristics. Lloyd's Coffee-house, and Garraway's, 

Digitized by 





he first at the Royal Exchange, the other not far from 
t, in 'Change Alley, are associated with marine intelli- 
gence, underwriters, stock-jobbing, and auctions; the 
Chapter Coffee-house, a grave and quiet-looking place, 
n Paternoster Row, close to St. Paul's Churchyard, is 
much dedicated to the business of booksellers; Peel's, 
i n Fleet Street, and Deacon's, in Walbrook, are sought 
Tor by those who wish to consult numerous files of news- 
papers of every description, provincial and foreign ; the 
lover of literary reminiscences and associations may 
stroll down Fleet Street; seek for Dr. Johnson's Tavern, 
in Bolt Court, endeavour to ascertain the site of the 
Devil Tavern, where Ben Jonson held his club, and 
Swift, and Addison, and Garth, and Steele have dined, 
or else turn aside into the Mitre. If he mourn the 
almost total obliteration of the old taverns of the clas- 
sical eras of Elizabeth and Anne, he may cross over to 
Southwark, and though even there the hand of im- 
provement is at work, still he will find some traces of 
** former days." 

AVe have heard a great deal, of late years, about the 
extraordinary increase and splendour of ••gin-palaces," 
and the consequent fearful demoralization of the labour- 
ing population. An able writer in an able book, which 
was published in 1833, says, "As to gin-shops, London 
is improving most rapidly, both in number and finery; 
every week, almost everyday, producing a new gin-shop, 
fitted up with spring-doors, plate-glass, mahogany or 
rose-wood, all more elegant, as they say in America, 
than the gin-shops which sprung up the week before.*'' 
After this, the reader may perhaps hardly credit the 
assertion that there are not more public-houses now to 
a population of nearly 2,000,000 than there were to a 
population between 600,000 and 700,000. In 1725, 
when the population was probably not more than 
600,000 (it was certainly not more than 700,000), a 
committee of the Middlesex magistrates reported, that 
it appeared from returns made by the high and petty 
constables, certified on oath, that there were then in the 
metropolis, exclusive of the city of London and South- 
ward, 6187 houses and shops ** wherein geneva or other 
strong waters are sold by retail." And the committee 
add, ** although this number is exceeding great, and far 
beyond all proportion to the wants of the inhabitants 
(being in some parishes every tenth house, in others 
every seventh, and in one of the largest every fifth 
house), we have great reason to believe it is very short. 
of the true number, there being none returned but such 
who sell publicly in shops or houses, though it is known 
there are many others who sett by retail, even in the 
streets and highways, some on bulks and stalls set up 
for that purpose, and others in wheelbarrows, who are 
not returned; and many more who sell privately in 
garrets, cellars, back rooms, and other places not pub- 
licly exposed to view, and which thereby escaped the 
notice of our officers." If to the 6187 reported, we 
add only 1000 for the city of London and Southwark, 
and 500 for illegal places, we shall have 7687 houses 
and shops selling liquors in the metropolis during the 
year 1725. 

Again, in 1750 (the population had not materially 
increased), it was stated to a Committee of the House 
of Commons that there were about 16,000 houses in 
the city of London, and that about 1050 licenses were 
granted yearly to victuallers, which was about one 
house to fifteen. In Westminster there were about 
17,000 houses, of which there were about 1300 licensed 
and 900 unlicensed, that sold liquors, which was about 
one house in eight. The High Constable of Hoi born 
stated that in his district there were 7066 houses, of 
which 1350, licensed and unlicensed, sold liquor ; being 
about one house in five and a quarter. In St. Giles's 
alone there were 506 gin-shops to 2000 houses, being 
* 'England and America** vol. i., p. 61. 

above one house in four, besides about eighty-two 
twopenny-houses* of the greatest, infamy, where gin- 
was the principal liquor drank. 

Now, in London, at present, there are not above 
3780 licensed victuallers, to which we may add about 
180 retailers of beer. From the vigilance of the Ex- 
cise there cannot be many illegal places; but let us 
state the entire number at 4000. Many of these 
licensed victuallers have large and most respectable 
houses; the greater number supply their respective 
neighbourhoods with malt liquors for family consump- 
tion : and even the " gin palaces" owe their crowds of 
votaries, not to a positive increase in the numbers of 
these houses, and an increased thirst for gin in the 
population, but to the fact of there not being an in- 
crease of houses correspondingly with the great increase 
of the population, which fact will also explain why and 
by what means the gin-shops have become, many of 
them at least, " gin-palaces.' 1 The great sums which 
are well known to be paid for the goodwill of a licensed 
victualler's house not only confirms this, but also con- 
tributes to keep up and perpetuate the monopoly. In 
truth, the present generation of the working people of 
London are, when compared with their fathers and 
grandfathers, advanced immensely in all the better 
qualities of temperance, consideration, intelligence, and 
propriety of demeanour. May their further advance be 
more and more evident, till a gin-shop shall look as 
antique a thing as the Old Blue Boar at the head of 
our article. 

The licensed victuallers' houses are, many of them, 
professedly chop-houses ; and all are bound by law to 
provide in their tap-rooms the means and conveniences 
for working men to cook and eat their dinners. Thus 
it is a common practice for those who are laboriously 
employed, and whose homes are too distant from their 
places of business, to purchase a steak or a chop at the 
butcher's, and, taking it into some neighbouring public* 
house, have it comfortably cooked, and be supplied 
with eating conveniences; and this accommodation is 
afforded for, perhaps, an extra halfpenny on the price 
of the pint of porter, or even without that extra charge. 
The eating-houses and coffee-rooms (not the taverns 
which bear the name of coffee-houses) are breaking in 
upon this old practice of resorting to the tap-room for * 
the purpose of dining. At the eating-houses dinners 
are supplied both cheaply and comfortably ; a man may 
dine in London at one place comfortably for lQd. or 1#., 
and perhaps a few doors farther off, if he wishes to be 
extravagant, he may dine elegantly at five times the 
price. The coffee-shops (as they are called) are chiefly 
frequented by the working and middle classes, where, 
with coffee, tea, eggs, chops, &c, there is usually a 
plentiful supply of newspapers and other periodical 
literature. There are at present about 300 coffee-rooms 
and 250 eating-houses in London, none of which are 
licensed to sell spirituous liquors. 

We can hardly conclude this paper without reference . 
to the 8i gnu of inns and public-houses. The reader 
who feels a curiosity respecting the etymology and 
signification of signs, may look at No. 253, in vol. v. of 
the * Penny Magazine. 1 He may be amused by learn- 
ing, that in London there are upwards of seventy 
public-houses bearing the name of the " Grapes," sixty- 
two u Ships," and twenty-eight Ships combined with 
something else, such as " Ship and Shovel" and " Ship 
and Shears;" no less than 205 " White Bears," "White 
Harts," "White Horses," and "White Swans;" eighty- 
eight " King's Arms," and sixty-nine " King's Heads ;*' 
fifty-six " Queen's Heads and Arms; seventy-four 
" Crowns," and fifty-three combined Crowns; fifty-six 
" Coach and Horses," twenty-six " Bells," nineteen ; 
" Feathers," and the same number of " Fountains f • 
♦ Twopenny was a species of malt liquor then in vogue. 

S 2 

Digitized by 





fifty-one with the name* of " George," and forty-six 
•• George and Dragon," " George and Vulture," and 
" George the Fourth ;" sixteen " Green Dragons," 
twenty-two "Green Men," but only four "Green Men 
and Still." We have seven " Ben Jonsons," nine 
" Shakspeares," sixteen " Lord Nelsons," and about 
twenty-five "Wellingtons," ldrd, marquis, and duke; 
and, not to add any more, a " Bleeding Heart/' a 
" Man loaded with Mischief," and a "Good Woman" 
—that is, a woman without a head. 


With the exception of the bats, no mammalia enjoy the 
powers of flight, though many, by means of an expanse 
of skin stretched along the sides from the fore to the 
hinder limbs, are capable of taking skimming leaps, 
and during the continuance of the leap even able to 
alter their course. Among reptiles, amphibia, and 
Jishes, there are no species endowed with flight, and 
but few enabled to take those skimming leaps which 
the flying squirrels, the flying lemur (Galeopithecus), 
and the flying opossums practise with such sweeping 
elegance of movement. There are, however, a few. 
Among the reptiles we may mention the flying dragons, 
beautiful little lizards, in which the six false ribs on 
each side are extended outwards to a considerable 
extent, and form the stretchers of a fine membrane, 
which constitutes an admirable parachute. Among 
fishes, the flying-fish is celebrated for its skimming 
leaps in the air, which the magnitude of its pectoral 
fins enables it to execute. But, if we except the bats, 
neither the mammalia, nor the lower classes of the 
vertebrate division of the animal kingdom alluded to, 
present us with animals formed for sustaining them- 
selves in the air, and of winging their way according 
to their pleasures or necessities. One class, however, 
consists so universally of animals endowed with the 
powers of flight, that the few exceptions met with, in 
which this faculty is denied, strike us from their sin- 
gularity, and almost seem to be out of the pale of their 
class. We need not say that we allude to birds, the 
class aves, the feathered tribes of air. 

Diversified in their habits, the power of flight is a 
common endowment. It is enjoyed not only by the 
swallow, that migrates to distant latitudes, coming and 
going with the seasons, — not only by the humming- 
bird, whose motions are almost too rapid for the eye 
to follow, — but by such as seek their food upon the 
ground, whether seeds or insects, — by such as make 
the trees their abode, and weave their nests among the 
branches, and by a throng of dwellers upon the surface 
of the ocean, which gain their sustenance from its ex- 
haustless magazine. Terrestrial, arboreal, waders, or 
oceanic (with a few remarkable exceptions), all are 
capable of leaving the earth, the trees, the marsh, or 
the sea, and of winging their way in the regions of the 
air. It must be confessed, however, that the powers of 
flight are not alike in all ; — some are untiring on the 
wing, — others, again, are incapable of long continuance, 
and become speedily exhausted by their efforts. The 
character of the flight of birds also is as variable as its 
capability of continuance : in these respects, indeed, 
every species has its own peculiarities more or less 
strongly marked, so that a practised naturalist will 
know a species by its flight alone; — we here allude 
more especially to the birds of our bwn island, with 
which we have the opportunity of becoming acquainted 
in a state of nature. The organs of aerial progression, 
by which a bird elevates itself and maintains and di- 
rects its course, it need hardly be stated, are essentially 
the wings; but the tail is also of considerable import- 
ance, and must be regarded as subsidiary to the former. 
The wings and tail of a bird, however, would be of 

little avail, were not its whole structure consonant to 
the efficient use of these organs ; the action of the. 
wings presupposes muscles of enormous strength, and 
possessing the power of continuing long at work;— 
conjoined with which there must be both lightness and 
a proper contour of body. Nor is the nature of the 
general clothing to be put out of the account: scales 
would be inadmissible; hair little less so; but feathers, 
while they increase the superficies of the body (being 
full and deep), are so light, that the body, thus enlarged, 
becomes comparatively of less specific gravity than ii 
clothed with an equal volume of fur. The form,— the 
muscular strength, — the extent of the lungs, and of the 
air-cells proceeding from them, — the contour of the 
body and the nature of its clothing, — tend thus, in 
beautiful harmony with its express organs of flight, to 
endow the bird for soaring in the sky, and traversing 
the realms of air. 

And here we may inquire more minutely into the 
structure of those organs upon which the power of 
flight immediately depends, viz., the wings, and in a 
secondary degree the tail. 

The wings consist of an osseous framework, acted 
upon by muscles, the tendons of which are respectively 
inserted into the several bones composing it, the whole 
being covered with skin, and affording a solid basis, 
upon which rest the feathers essentially requisite for 
flight, and distinguished by their shape and arrange- 
ment. The disposition of the muscles and tendons of 
the wing afford a beautiful display of mechanical con- 
trivance ; we shall not, however, attempt to describe 
them, as it would be to depart from our present design; 
but we cannot omit a description of the osseous frame- 
work, inasmuch as it is immediately connected with ine 
arrangement and fixedness of the feathers. As iu man, 
the wing, which is in fact the arm of the bird, consists 
of the true-arm, the fore-arm, and the hand. 

r Bone§ of the Wing.] 

The true-arm consists of the humerus, or oshmp 
k ; this bone is cylindrical and hollow, and its hew » 
received into a shallow cavity of the scapula^ or shoulder- 
blade, at the angle made by the sudden turn and descen 
of the large coracoid process, which in birds is attacn 
at its posterior extremity to the anterior margin of 
breast-bone, so as to form a supplemental f! aV, ~[JiJ 
The fore-arm consists of an ulna, b, and radius, c 
radius is very slender. The ulna has often a row ^ 
tubercles on its upper surface, indicating the situa 
of the barrels of the secondary quill-feathers, wh»cn a 
supported by it. 

The hand" is divided as usual into ceirpM«,tnetacarp J 
and phalanges. The bones of the corpus, t>, we wna ^ 
and two in number. The melacarput*, E> con 1 J l8 1 tS c ^ 3 t 
single bone, formed by the union of *wo anchyloses 

Digitized by 





each of their extremities ; on its anterior edge at the 
base is seated the thumb-bone, a single pointed piece, 
P. The fingers, G, are two; the first consists of two 
phalange*^ a broad basal bone, as if several were com- 
pacted into one, and a small pointed terminal bone. 
The second finger consists merely of a small styloid 
portion in close contact with the first plialanx of the 
first ringer. The hand thus formed is destitute of all 
those powers which we are accustomed to ascribe to 

such an organ ; it is a firm inflexible support for a 
series of stiff elastic feathers continuous with those pro- 
ceeding from the ulna. 

The bones of the wing being thus briefly described, 
we shall advert to the arrangement of those feathers 
which give this organ its expanse, and which beat the 
air in the act of flight. For the clear understanding 
of this part of the subject, we present the wing of a 
common buzzard, stripped of all its feathers, except 

[Wing of the Common Buzzard.] 

these, in order that their relative position may be seen. 
These arising from the hand and ulna, are termed quill- 
feathers (Remiges). They are divided into two sets; 
first, a set arising from tfie hand, a, consisting of the 
most important of the series, and mainly instrumental 
by their length and shape, their stiffness or flexibility, 
in determining the character or the power of the flight. 
They arc termed the Primaries, or primary quill-feathers, 
and are ten in number, but they differ in form, as well 
as in relative length. The second set arise exclusively 
from the vlna, and are termed the secondares, or 
secondary quill-feathers, u ; they are usually shorter, 
broader, and less rigid than the former ; their number 
varies. From the small bone which represents the 
thumb, arise certain short stiff feathers, lying close upon 
the quills of the primaries, and constituting the spurious 
icing or winglet, c. 

Besides these, there is a group of feathers termed 
tertiaries, arising from the humeral joint of the fore- 
arm, and which, in many birds, as the curlews, plovers, 
lapwings, &c, are very long, forming a sort of pointed 
appendage, very apparent during flight : in most birds, 
however, they are very short, or not to be discriminated 
frojn the rest of the greater eoverts, of which, in fact, 
they are a continuation ; hence they cannot strictly be 
reckoned among- the quill-feathers. The same obser- 
vation also applies to the feathers, d, attached to the 
upper part of the humerus, and termed scapularies; 
these lie along the sides of the back, and in many birds 
are of great length. The position of these feathers, 
and of the coverts, will be seen in the annexed sketch, 
which is the expanded wing of a curlew. 

f Wing of a Curlew.] 

a, A series of feathers, termed the lesser cover Is, disposed 
in scale-like order, row after row, on the fore-arm and 

carpal-joint ; they cover the barrels of the quill-feathers 5 
below them extends a series of larger feathers, b, which 
sweep across the wing, encroaching far on the primaries, 
and when the wing is closed usually hiding the secon- 
daries ; these are Ihe greater coverts, of which the ter- 
tiaries are to be regarded as a continuation. The 
under surface of the wing is lined with softer feathers, 
termed under coverts. 

Such is a general sketch of the mechanism of the 
wing of a bird, and before we enter upon a considera- 
tion of the modifications of form to which it is subject, 
we shall proceed to a review of the mechanism of the 
feathers forming the tail, or rudder. 

The caudal or coccygeal vertebra, form a moveable 
adjunct to the immoveable sacrum, which in the bird 
anchyloses with the haunch-bones, so as to constitute 
a solid whole. The last bone of the caudal vertebra 
(which are few in number) is larger than the rest, and 
of a different figure ; it is compressed laterally, and has 
much resemblance to one of the spinous processes of the 
dorsal portion of the vertebral column in mammalia. 

The development of this bone will be found on con- 
sideration to be necessary, inasmuch as it supports the 
tail-feathers, the quills of which are fixed in capsules, 
as well as powerful muscles, for the purpose of acting 
on these feathers, for they are capable of being ex- 
panded (as in the turkey-cock) or closed, elevated 
or depressed. The terminal joint of the tail merely 
stripped of its feathers, is, as we know, somewhat 
heart-shaped, owing to the muscles, which are con- 
tiguous to the bone, and to the lateral arrangement of 
the capsules for the reception of the quills of the tail- 
feathers. The mechanism of the tail of a common 
fowl will convey a good idea of the subject. The tail- 
feathers vary in size, length, shape, and strength, in 
various groups or genera ; ihey vary also in number ; 
their usual number, however, is twelve, sometimes they 
amount to fourteen, and in the gallinaceous tribes 
to eighteen, or even more. The tail-feathers of the 
common buzzard afford a &ood illustration of their 
ordinary arrangement. Six on each side are disposed 
one above another, and they partially over-lay each 
other, the lateral one on each side being overlaid by 

Digitized by 




[Apiil 8 

the next In succession, and so on to the centre ; of the 
two central feathers one overlays the other. The quills 
of the tail- feathers are hidden beneath what are termed 
the upper tail coverts, which in some birds, as the 
peacock, the resplendent trogon (Trogon resplendent, 
Gould), &c, form long flowing* plumes of exquisite 
beauty. Beneath, the quills of the tail-feathers are 
covered by under tail coverts, consisting of lax feathers, 
and in some birds, as the marabou, forming plumes of 
great softness and delicacy. Occasionally, indeed, as 
in the ostrich, the menura superba (lyre-bird of Aus- 
tralia, see Cut in No. 317), and others, the tail-feathers 
themselves lose their ordinary character, and are soft, lax, 
and flowing. Having thus sketched out the general 
plan upon which the wings and the tails of the feathered 
race are organized, we shall next take a rapid survey of 
the principal modifications in form and character ex- 
hibited by them, in connexion with the influence such 
modifications have upon flight. 

ITo be continued] 


{Extracted from ' Self- Formation j or, the Hidory of an 
Individual Mind,*) 

I have set forth the whole course of my intellect from 
first to last, running it through " even from my boyish 
days," and copying from my memory, as they occurred to 
me, its quick vicissitudes, its changes between light and 
darkness, between despair and hope, between triumph 
and disappointment; in short, I have recounted the 
series of my experiments — true, genuine experiments 
made upon myself — a lesson worthy of all acceptance, 
and study, and observance ; for, assure thyself, reader, 
in intellectual as in natural philosophy, it is only by the 
practice of experiments that we can hope to be effectual : 
we must try ourselves at all points before we can know 
our faculties, or put them to their use, or give them 
their right direction. And now I have to cast up my 
account, to set my hire against my labour, my profit 
against my loss, and ascertain the balance. How, then, 
does it stand? This is the main point, and it should 
be developed clearly. 

In the first place, when all is told, I am neither rich, 
nor powerful, nor renowned among my fellow men. 
My intellectual advancement, whatever it may be, has 
either fallen short of these things, or left them on one 
side : if they be the greatest good, the true riches, then 
am I poor indeed, and doubtless I should be so re- 
garded in the opinion of many men. " We judge the 
tree by its fruit," so probably they will tell me ; " and 
it is in vain that on this tree of yours we look for such 
fruit as is beautiful to the worldly eye or pleasing to the 
worldly palate. Your philosophy may be well enough 
for your idle dreamers until they wake from their 
dreaminess to disappointment ; but for us, what we 
have proved we will hold fast ; we know better things, 
we will none of your false ware — away with it.'* 

However, for myself, I must confess, though it is 
yet an early day for me to complain, that I have missed, 
hitherto, these great objects of ambition. But how, 
and why? Assuredly not in consequence of my in- 
tellectual exertions ; it is not from them that my 
failure has originated, — forefend the thought ! — on the 
contrary, my only chance of success depends on them. 
I am convinced that Voltaire is right, where he tells us 
that the spirit of business is the same with the true 
spirit of literature. The perfection of each is in the 
union of energy and thoughtfulness, of the active and 
contemplative essence ; an union commended by Lord 
Bacon as the concentrated excellence of our nature. 
And of this truth I have had experience. By the 
course of practice and experiment heretofore recounted 
by me, . I had advanced myself from mere passive 
clildishness of intellect to something like the maturity 

of manhood. I had vindicated myself from my base 
and most irksome subjugation to feebleness, nervous- 
ness, and the whole host of mental infirmities ; and I 
had attained, in their stead, a certain degree, not a %ery 
high one, I admit, of clearness, comprehensiveness, and 
confidence — energy, industry, and perseverance. Now, 
it is quite certain that these qualities can be no hin- 
drance to the worldly advancement of any man ; on 
the contrary, they conduce to it necessarily, and most 
manifestly. Generally, even in these brisk and giddy- 
paced times, these dogdays of competitionary heat, they 
will command success ; but they cannot do so always. 
Moreover, as I must admit the truth, even when she if 
a messenger of evil, therefore I allow the fact, that 
the cultivation of the intellect in its true and proper 
method, from the very uprightness and high- minded new 
that it gives, is apt on some occasions to throw difficul- 
ties in our way, or, rather, to prevent our evasion of 
them. Where the entrance to preferment is low, and 
the whole passage crooked, there the worldling has the 
advantage; he is then at home; he can creep and 
crawl along where he cannot walk * uprightly ; while 
the man of high intellect will stoop to no such degrada- 
tion. Hence he may miss his points ; as they say in 
the language of the turf,*he is liable to be shut out and 
precluded from laying himself out fairly in the race. 
But this, after all, is but the sufferance of a Moment; 
and as surely as he bears it here, so will he be rewarded 
for it hereafter ; and, besides, it is in itself but a small 
matter, compared with the great and many advantages 
for worldly furtherance that belong in other respects to 
intellectual eminence 

But it is a miserable mistake, though by no means 
an un frequent one, to suppose that the value of the in- 
tellect consists mainly or principally in its sufficiency 
for our worldly furtherance. The man who can come 
to such a conclusion, is in much the same degree of 
baseness and absurdity as those who were followers of 
our Saviour only for the sake of the loaves and fishes. 
We value intelligence high, not because it may lead us 
to such things, as indeed it often does, but because it 
raises us above them. He who has* the fewest wants 
is the nearest to the gods — so it was said by a philoso- 
pher; and there is much truth in the saying. To be 
free from imaginary cravings is in itself a great for- 
tune; greater than the greatest wealth of the greatest 
leviathans in riches can enable them to reach. Not 
that T am one of those who regard the advantages of 
this world as things absolutely of no account. Good 
houses, and good clothes, and good carriages, and good 
possessions, generally are welcome, for the most part, 
even to the most rational man. I would not detract 
from them; let them pass for their full value: only 
thus much would I say, that the only effect upon our 
welfare, of these and all other external things, is by 
their impressions upon the mind. But impressions 
from without, as I have already stated, never fail to 
be dulled and deadened by repetition. We become 
gradually indifferent to them ; at last we regard them 
but little, if at all : the place that they should supply 
is become a mere blank to us. But our intellectual 
habits, on the contrary, are strengthened by exercise ; 
they become quicker, more vivid, and more agreeable, 
from day to day ; even where they do nothing more, 
they fill the void of our existence, and that most pleas- 
ingly. Besides, as the mind is the man, we must 
address ourselves to the mind, if we would procure the 
man's enjoyment ; we must frame it to energy, and 
quickness, and sensibility, else is the heart like lead, a 
cold, heavy, inert, impassible mass. A person of loose, 
and feeble, and listless disposition will be feeble and 
listless stiil, though he be surrounded with pleasurable 
resources. They will merely tantalize him ; he cannot 
make them available; he has not strength enough to 
extract from them the virtue, the efficacy towards hap- 

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piness that really belongs to them. He can do nothing 
with great means; whereas the man of intelligence, 
quick, lively, and full of spirit, can make much of very 
little means, turn all things to account, find everywhere 
a soul of gladness, " and good in everything. 1 ' More- 
over, the wealth of this world labours to the end of 
happiness by a very cumbrous and unwieldy apparatus; 
whereas the intellect acts immediately, goes straight to 
its mark, and hardly ever fails of it. 

Thus am I requited. This is the service that my 
mind, with all the pains that I have bestowed upon it, 
has rendered me ; and, verily, the reward is not such 
as to attract the worldly eye, or kindle the lust of covet- 
ousness. There is nothing of show or glitter in it; 
nothing of pomp or circumstance — it is sterling, but 
simple gold. In the world's esteem I am not a jot the 
wealthier for its possession ; except, indeed, so far as it 
has saved me from wastefulness and profligacy. Nei- 
ther by its means have I arrived, nor am I ever likely to 
arrive, at greatness. It speaks not in the trumpet blast 
of fame, but in the still voice of consciousness. Nor yet 
ami altogether sure that my mind, as I have framed it, 
will ensure me what is nailed success in life, for this de- 
pends not on one's self— occasion may be wanting to it, 
competition may keep it out, accident may frustrate it. 

But though it has given me none of these things, it 
has done me a far better service, inasmuch as it has 
enabled me to forego them, and to live contentedly 
without them. It can never assure me the favours of 
fortune, but it has made me independent of her. By 
its aid I can fiud my happiness in myself, instead of 
looking for it anxiously and hurriedly and vainly in 
things without me. ' This is my reward; and, on the 
whole, comparing what I have gained with what I have 
undergone, I am well satisfied with it— satisfied to the 
very fulness of gratitude. 

I do not mean to say that the habitual exercise of the 
intellect ends necessarily in this result; but, at least, it 
tends to it necessarily. And, when combined with reli- 
gions feeling, it cannot fail to work on others as it did 
on me ; to ensure them, that is, a firm and steady foot- 
ing' throughout their walk of life, to render them supe- 
rior tp casualties, and to endow them with the strength 
and self-sufficiency of the man described by Horace : — 
" In aeipso totus, teres atqua rotundua, * * * 
In quem manca ruit semper Fortuna*." 

These are great endowments, glorious gifts; but 
(here is one above them all, and indeed beyond all 
price, that may be considered as belonging, not exclu- 
sively, but properly, to intellectual superiority. This 
is the development of religion. For there is much of 
mutual dependence between the mind and soul; they 
lend aid, each to the other, and conspire amicably. I 
believe that a certain degree of intellectual force is 
absolutely necessary for the existence of true religion. 
It is only by thought that we can arrive at reason. 
Reason alone, calm reflective reason, is equal to the 
subjugation of the passions; and the passions must 
first be subjugated, ere religion can prove itself. I 
have stated this truth elsewhere ; in an earlier part of 
my book I have, dwelt upon it more at large. I offer 
it again here, not to insist upon it any further, but in 
order that the impression of this religious advantage 
may be the last upon my reader's mind. 

Truly, then, did Solomon say unto us, ** Wisdom is 
the principal thing; therefore get wisdom, and with all 
thy getting, get understanding. Exalt her, and she 
shall promote thee : she shall bring thee to honour, 
when thou dost embrace her. Forsake her not, and 
she shall preserve thee : love her, and she shall keep 
thee." Such is his injunction, and I will not weaken 

• « Who on hiatelf nlies, • • * 
And breaks misfortune with superior force.'* 

Francis. Satires, lib. ii., Sat. 7, 

it by any addition of my own. This only will I say f 
that the prize so set forth by him is open to every man; 
and he who refuses it, who turns away from his happi- 
ness, when it is offered to him on so fair terms, is 
guiltier, in my judgment, than the suicide. 


The stomach, says Aretseus, is the leader of pleasure 
and of pain. In other words, good-humour depends in 
a great measure on a good digestion ; melancholy is 
first cousin to dyspepsia; and as a knock-down blow 
on the stomach destroys life at once, so will a number 
of petty blows, dealt out to it in the shape of bad pro- 
visions, make life short and uncomfortable. 

One of the questions which meets us at the outset of 
this subject is, whether it is better to eat too much or 
too little, whether abstinence or satiety is to be preferred. 
It is easy to say, keep the mean, but as this is not easy 
to define, we would advise our readers, without deviating 
from strict temperance, to lean to the more genial ex- 
treme, and follow Celsus rather ttyinAberaethy. " Celsus 
could never have spoken it as a physician, had he not 
been a wise man withal, when he giveth it for one of 
the great precepts of health and lasting, that a man do 
vary and interchange contraries, but with an inclination 
to the more benign extreme ; use fasting and full eat- 
ing, but rather full eating ; watching and sleep, but 
rather sleep ; sitting and exercise, but rather exercise, 
and the like: so shall nature be cherished and yet 
taught masteries." * 

Of diet, considered in its general divisions. — It is 
almost unnecessary to state that the best diet for man 
consists of a mixture of animal and vegetable substances, 
with one mineral — salt. A few whimsical persons have, 
in various ages, abstained from animal food ; the most 
noted of these was Pythagoras, who flourished about 
500 years before Christ, and from whom the modern 
feeders on vegetables alone are generally called Pytha- 
goreans. There is a Pythagorean sect in this country, 
and a Pythagorean cookery-book once fell into our 
hands ; it permitted the use of eggs and milk. 

In favour of animal diet, on the other hand, in addi- 
tion to scriptural authority, and the usage of all ages 
and countries, we may allege the structure of the human 
body itself. We find that man not only resembles car- 
nivorous as well as graminivorous animals in his teeth, 
but that his intestines form a mean between those of 
the two classes ; neither so long as those of the animals 
destined to live on vegetables alone, nor so short as 
those of beasts of prey. Too exclusive an animal diet 
renders persons subject to violent inflammatory attacks ; 
and produces (as in the case of butchers) that over- 
florid appearance which the superficial mistake for the 
hue of health, but which the discerning know to be but 
one step, and scarcely one step, removed from disease. 
Too exclusive a vegetable diet reduces the strength, and 
forms a race of men peculiarly liable to be mown down 
by low fevers. It must be confessed, however, that 
climate modifies these rules considerably. The native 
of a warm and dry country will prosper on a diet which 
would hardly sustain life in England ; and the coarser 
inhabitant of the north is benefited by a quantity of 
animal food which would, utterly disorganize the more 
delicate structure of the Hindoo. Habit, too* must 
everywhere be taken into consideration. Mr. Thackrah 
informs us, in his work on the diseases of artisans, that 
Irish recruits often suffer from the generous diet allowed 
to soldiers ; and they are so sensible of the fact them- 
selves, that when attacked by disease they say to the 
military surgeons, " Sir, it's the male that's killing me." 

Consequences of very injudicious diet. — If we wish 
to know what are the results of the most injudicious 
* « Bacon*! Essays.'— Of Regimen of Health. 

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[April 8, 1S37. 

diet persevered in with the spirit of a martyr, we must 
Dot turn to the rich pies and champagne of the opulent 
epicure, nor to the tripe and gin of the inhabitant of 
St. Giles's, but refer to the experiment tried upon his 
own person by a bold and ingenious physician of the 
last century — Dr. Stark. He began them in June, 
1769, and they terminated with his life in the following 
February. In reading the, early life of those heroes 
whose exploits were destined one day to surpass all that 
minstrels had sung or poets imagined, we often find 
that the zeal of the young aspirant was inflamed to its 
highest pitch by a recital of the deeds of his predeces- 
sors : and in like manner Dr. Stark seems to have been 
encouraged in his course by what he calls * Facts re- 
lating to Diet/ which are sufficiently interesting to jus- 
tify us in quoting them. 

"Dr. B. Franklin, of Philadelphia, informed me that 
he himself, when a journeyman printer, lived a fortnight 
on bread and water, at the rate of 10 lbs. of bread per 
week, and that he found himself stout and hearty with 
this diet. 

" He likewise told me that he knew a gentleman, 
who, having been taken by the Barbary corsairs, was 
employed to work in the quarries, aud that the only 
food allowed him was barley, a certain quantity of 
which was put into his pockets every morning; water 
he found at the place of labour; his practice was, to 
eat a little now and then, whilst at work, and having 
remained many years in slavery, he had acquired so far 
the habit of eating frequently and little at a time, that 
when he returned home his only food was gingerbread 
nuts, which he carried in his pocket, and of which he 
ate from time to time. 

" By Sir John Pringle I was told that the inhabitants 
of Zephalonia, during some parts of the year, live wholly 
on currants. He also said that he knew a lady, now 
ninety years of age, who ate only the pure fat of meat. 

" I learned from Dr. Mackenzie, that many of the 
poor people near Inverness never took any kind of 
animal food, not even eggs, cheese, butter, or milk. 

" Mr. Hewson informed me that Mr. Orred, a surgeon 
at Chester, knew a ship's crew, who, being detained at 
sea after all their provisions were consumed, lived, one 
part of them on tobacco, the other on sugar ; and that 
the latter generally died of the scurvy, whilst the former 
remained free from this disease, or soon recovered. 

" Dr. Cirelli says, that the Neapolitan physicians 
frequently allow their patients in fevers nothing but 
water for forty days together. 

" Mr. Slingsby has lived many years on bread, milk, 
and vegetables, without animal food or wine ; he has 
excellent spirits, is very vigorous, and has been free 
from the gout ever since he began this regimen. 

" Dr. Knight has also lived many years on a diet 
strictly vegetable, excepting eggs in puddings, milk 
with his tea and chocolate, and butter. He finds Wine 
necessary to him. Since he lived in this manner he 
has been free from the gout.*" 

These specimens of fantastic diet do not require 
much commentary : currants (i. e. the small raisins of 
Zante) are among the most indigestible articles, and 
in large quantities would produce violent diarrhoea ; 
even a fever patient cannot live on water alone for 
forty days; -and tobacco will dull the appetite, but not 
nourish the body. 

Let us now proceed to Dr. Stark's own experiments. 
On the 24th of June he began with a diet of bread and 
water, which he had the fortitude to continue till the 
26th of July, when he changed it for one of bread, 
water, and sugar. On the 11th of August, "I ate 
twenty-four ounces of bread and sixteen ounces of 
sugar, but the last part of it with great abhorrence. I 
now perceived small ulcers on the inside of my cheeks, 
* • Stark'i World, pp. 92-3 

particularly near a bad tooth, in the lower jaw, of the 
right side ; the gums of the upper jaw, of the same 
side, were swelled and red, and bled when pressed with 
the finger ; the right nostril was also internally red or 
purple, and very painful." — p. 102. 

This diet was succeeded by one of bread and water, 
with oil of olives. This reduced him to such a state, 
that on the 8th of September he was so weak and low 
that he almost fainted in walking across his room. His 
fourth diet was of bread, water, and milk ; his fifth of 
bread and water, with roasted goose. We then come to 
diets of bread and water with boiled beef; bread and 
water with sugar; bread with boiled beef and water; 
&c. &c. The last mess but one, which appears to hir- 
given the finishing stroke to Dr. Stark's digestm 
organs, wearied by the eccentricities of eight mouths 
was a diet of bread or flour with honey, and infusion of 
tea or of rosemary. When flour was used,' it was made 
into a pudding with the honey. The last diet was of 
bread, Cheshire cheese, and infusion of rosemary. Oa 
the ISth of February, Dr. Stark took bread with re- 
fusion of rosemary, but no cheese. On this day bis 
complaints became serious, and in spite of good medical 
advice, he died on the 23rd. 

Dr. Currie terminates the account of one of hfa ei- 
periments on cold bathing with the remark that the 
chief thing he learned from it was, that it was not 
rashly to be repeated ; we fear that the same melan- 
choly lesson is almost the only thing to be deduced 
from Dr. Stark's experiments. They appear to inure 
destroyed him by causing an inflammation of the alt- 
mentary canal. 

Nor are these whimsical diets better suited for least 
than for man, as appears from some of Majeodie's 
cruel experiments: — *• A dog fed upon white sugar and 
water exclusively, appeared, for seven or eight days, to 
thrive upon this sustenance. He was lively, — ate and 
drank with avidity. Towards the second week, how- 
ever, he began to lose flesh, though his appetite con- 
tinued good. In the third week he lost his live/mess 
and appetite ; and an ulcer formed in the middle of 
each cornea, which perforated it, and the humours of 
the eye escaped : the animal became more and more 
feeble, and died the thirty-second day of the experi- 
ment. Results nearly similar ensued with dogs fed 
upon olive oil and distilled water, but no ulceration of 
the cornea took place ; — and upon dogs fed with gum, 
and with butter. 

'* A dog fed with white bread made from pure wheat, 
and with water, died at the expiration^ of fifty days. 
Another, fed exclusively on military biscuit, suffered no 
alteration in its health. 

" Rabbits or guinea-pigs fed upon one substance 
only, as corn, hay, barley, cabbage, carrots, &c, die 
with all the marks of inanition, generally in the first 
fortnight, and sometimes sooner. 

•' An ass fed upon boiled rice died in fifteen days 
having latterly refused its nourishment. A cock lived 
for many months upon this substance, and preserved 
its health. 

*• Dogs fed exclusively with cheese, or with hard 
eggs, are found to live for a considerable period ; but 
become feeble, meagre, and lose their hair*." 

We will conclude this account of injurious diet with 
two observations. The first is, that variety, which is 
proverbially charming, is in diet absolutely necessary; 
the second is, that concentrated food, such as jelly or 
strong soup, is to be used but sparingly, as it is not very 
nourishing, and is remarkably difficult of digestion. 

• ' Mayo^ Physiology,' 2nd edition, pp. 208-9. 
[To bo oontinned.) 

%• The OfRee of the Socirty for tho Diffusion of Usefal KnowledM i* at 

69. Lincoln's Inn Fields. 


Printed by William Clowis and Son*, Stamford Stxvel 

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Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. 



[April 15, 1837. 


It does not appear that there existed, in London, any- 
thing of the nature of a club — that is, as Dr. Johnson 
defines the word, " an assembly of good fellows meeting 
under certain conditions" — before the reign of Eliza- 
beth. The times were doubtless too rude and unsettled, 
and liberty of action too much circumscribed, to tolerate 
the existence of any regular convivial association, whose 
objects might not have been understood, or might have 
been misinterpreted. " Good fellows" must, therefore, 
hare been contented to seek each other's company at 
taverns in occasional accidental or preconcerted meet- 
ings, not daring (probably not thinking of it) to establish 
a permanent association. But in the more settled and 
brilliant times of her of whom Andrew Marvel exclaims, 

None ever reigned like old Bess in the ruff," 
the remarkable men of a remarkable time established 
the first clubs that are recorded in our literature. Ben 
Jonson's club, for which he wrote his * Leges Con- 
vi vales,' or Laws of Conviviality, met at the Devil 
Tavern, which stood near Temple Bar; and at the 
Mermaid Tavern, in Friday Street, which runs off 
Cheapside, was held a still more famous club, of which 
Sbakspeare, Beaumont, and Fletcher, Sir Walter Ra- 
leigh, Selden, Donne, and others, were members. We 
have little more than traditional accounts of these 
clubs: but there is a well-known and frequently-quoted 
poetical epistle by Beaumont, addressed to Ben Jonson, 
in which he alludes to the meetings of the club at the 
Mermaid Tavern in that exaggerated strain in which 
memory is apt to indulge when recalling events in life 
which have left a relish behind them • — 
Vol. VI. 

"Methinks the little wit I had is lost, 
Since I saw you : for wit is like a rest 
Held up at tennis, which men do the best 
With the best gamesters. What things have we seen 
Done at the Mermaid ! heard words that have been 
So nimble, and so full of subtile flame, 
As if that every one from whence they came 
Had meant to put his whole wit in a jest, 
And had resolved to live a fool the rest 
Of his dull life ; then where there had been thrown 
Wit able enough to justify the town 
For three days past, — wit that might warrant be 
For the whole city to talk foolishly, 
Till that were cancel I'd ; and when that was gone, 
We left an air behind us which alene 
Was able to make the two next companies 
Right witty ; — though but downright fools, mere wise/ 

After the Restoration, a principal resort of literary 
men, wits, talkers, and idlers, was Will's Coffee House, 
which stood at the corner of Bow Street. Here Dry- 
den reigned, by universal consent, as the literary 
monarch of the age. But it is painful to contemplate 
the dissolute period of the reign of Charles II. The 
conduct of a large portion of the higher and better 
educated classes of that time appears almost as if a 
general determination had been come to, of employing 
all the ingenuity of intellect to degrade and brutify the 
diviner faculties of man. 

There were a great number of clubs in existence ill 
London during the early part of the eighteenth cen- 
tury; and Steele and Addison, with their delightful 
ideal paper clubs in the * Tatler f and * Spectator,' con- 
tributed much to spread them, and bring them into 
fashion with all classes. But evil as well as good 

T * 

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sprung from the great iucrease of these associations. 
If literary and educated men met together, to enjoy in 
easy and convivial intercourse the outpourings of wit 
and fancy, there were not wanting others who imitated 
what they did not understand, and substituted brutality 
and drunkenness for exhilaration and pleasant enjoy- 
ment. A royal proclamation was issued in April, 1721, 
for the suppression of "certain scandalous clubs or 
societies of young persons who meet together," whose 
conduct was certainly of a mos4 improper kind. A 
writer in 1733 tells us it was quite a common practice 
for tavern-keepers to have a tacit or positive under- 
standing with certain individuals, who acted as "decoy- 
ducks" to draw customers. "They are," he says, 
" for ever establishing clubs and friendly societies at 
taverns, and drawing to them every soul they have any 
dealings or acquaintance with. The young fellows are 
mostly sure to be their followers and admirers, as 
esteeming it a great favour to be admitted amongst 
their seniors and betters, thinking to learn to know the 
world and themselves * • » In a morning, there 
is no passing through any part of the town without 
being hemmed and yelped after by these locusts from 
the windows of taverns, where they post themselves at 
the most convenient views, to observe such passengers 
as they have but the least knowledge of; and if a 
person be in the greatest haste, going upon extraordi- 
nary occasions, or not caring to vitiate his palate before 
dinner, and so attempts an escape, then, like a pack 
of hounds, they join in full cry after him, and the land- 
lord is detached upon his dropsical pedestals, or else a 
more nimble-footed drawer is at your heels, bawling 
out, * Sir ! Sir ! it is your old friend Mr. Swallow, who 
wants you upon particular business ! ' " 

A traveller, who aimed at mixing in the " fashion- 
able WQrld," * thus describes his manner of living in 
1724 :— " I am lodged in the street called Pali-Mall, 
the ordinary residence of all strangers, because of its 
vicinity to the King's Palace, the Park, the Parliament 
House, the theatres, and the chocolate and coffee- 
houses, where the best company frequent. If you 
would know our manner of living, it is thus : — We rise 
by nine, and those that frequent great men's levees 
find entertainment at them till eleven; or, as in Hol- 
land, go to tea-tables. About twelve the bcau-monde 
assembles in several chocolate and coffee-houses, the 
best of which are the Cocoa Tree and White's Choco- 
late-houses, St. James's ; the Smyrna and the British 
Coffee-houses ; and all these so, near one anothpr, that 
in less than an hour you see the company of them all. 
We are carried to these places in chairs (sedans), which 
are here very cheap, a guinea a-week or a shilling per 
hour ; and your chairmen serve you for porters to run 
on errands, as your gondoliers do at Venice. 

" If it be fine weather we take a turn in the park till 
two, when we go to dinner ; and if it be dirty, you are 
entertained at picket or basset at White's, or you may 
talk politics at the Smyrna and St. James's. I must 
not forget to tell you that the parties have their different 
places, where, however, a stranger is always well re- 
ceived ; but a Whig will no more go to the Cocoa Tree 
Or Ozinda's, than a Tory will be seen at the coffee- 
house of St. James's. 

" The Scots generally go to the British, and a mix- 
ture of all sorts to the Smyrna. There are other little 
coffee-houses much frequented in this'neighbourhood — 
Youngman's, for officers ; Oldman's, for stock-jobbers, 
paymasters, and courtiers ; and Littleman's, for sharp- 
ers. I never was so confounded in my life as when I 
entered into this last; I saw two or three tables full at 
faro, heard the box and dice rattling in the room above 
stairs, and was surrounded by a set of sharp faces that 

* ' Journey through England, Scotland, and the Austrian Ne- 
therlands,' by John Macky. 

I was afraid would have devoured me with their eyes. 
I was glad to drop two or three half-crowns at faro to 
get off with a clear skin, and was overjoyed I was so 
got rid of them. 

" At two we generally go to dinner. Ordinaries are 
not so common here as abroad, yet the French have set 
up two or three pretty good ones for the conven^eocy of 
foreigners, in Suffolk-street, where one is tolerably wei! 
served ; but the general way here is to make a party at 
the coffee-house to go dine at the tavern, where we sit 
till six, then we go to the play. 

" After the play, the best company generally go to 
Tom's and Willis's coffee-houses, near adjoining, where 
there is playing at ' Picket ' and the best of conversa- 
tion till midnight, J^ere you will see blue am} green 
ribands and stars sitting familiarly with private gen- 
tlemen, and talking with the same freedom as if they 
had left their quality and degrees of distance at home; 
and a stranger tastes with pleasure the universal Ijbem 
of speech of the English nation. Or if you l^ke rathe: 
the company of ladies, there are assemblies at Bust 
people of quality's houses. And in all tbe coffee- 
houses you have not only the foreign prints, bqt severs! 
English ones, with the foreign occurrences^ besides 
papers of morality and party disputes. 11 

The celebrated Beefsteak Club^ which s|ili exi&s, 
originated in an incidental circu,w$tanc« in J 735. 
Rich, the manager of Covent Garden Theatre, while 
employed during the day in directing, arranging, and 
otherwise preparing the scenery for his pantomimes si 
night, was visited by a number of individuals, all 
anxious to inspect the progress of his la,bou,ra. On oae 
of these occasions, the Earl of Peterborough bavin* 
lingered some time, Rich, without being disturbed by 
his presence, began \o cook: a heefctea* for his owi 
dinner. The earj waa invited to partake \ the enter- 
tainment was renewed 3 week afterwards, when some 
additional friends arrived to the beefsteak with 
Rich;— and thus arose the Peefoteak Club. This 
association, during its Jpqg existence, appears to have 
been peculiarly * 4 an assembly of good fellows meeting 
under certain conditions." The author of 4 The Clubs 
of London ' describes the first occasion on which be 
was present at a sitting of the club, in 1799. •* I fa 
not recollect," he says, '• all who were present on that 
day, but I remarked particularly John Keipble, Cobb, 
of the India House, His Royal Highness the Duie 
of Clarence [His present Majesty], Sir John Cox 
Hippisley, Charles Morris, Ferguson of Aberdeen, and 
his Grace of Norfolk. This nobleman took the chaii 
when the cloth was removed. It is a place of dignitv, 
elevated some steps above the table, and decorated 
with the various insignia of the society, amongst which 
was suspended the identical small cocked-hat in which 
Garrick used to play the part of Ranger. As soon as 
the clock strikes five, a curtain draws up, disepvering 
the kitchen, in which the cooks are dimly seen plying 
their several offices, through a sort of grating, with thU 
appropriate motto from ' Macbeth' inscribed over it:— 
' If it were dona when 'tis done, then 'twere well 
It were done quickly.' * 

Dr. Johnson, in 1747, founded the Kings Head 
Club, which met in Ivy Lane ; his well-known u Lite- 
rary Club" was founded in 1764. Amongst the mem- 
bers of the latter are to be found the names of Burke, 
Charles Fox, Lord Charlemont, Dr. Percy bishop of 
Dromore, Sir Joshua Reynolds, Sheridan, Garmk, 
Dunning, afterwards Lord Ashburton, Gibbon, Gold- 
smith, Ac, and Johnson himself. Boswell, who was 
frequently present at the meetings of this club, does 
not appear to have felt himself warranted to record 
what he had heard, probably viewing it in the light of 
a breach of social confidence. He only on one occa- 
sion, in his * Life of Johnson,' gives a formal detail of 

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any conversation that passed at the club ; and then he 
disguises the speakers' names by giving initials, except 
his own and Johnson's, which he gives in full. 

Under the year 1781, Bos we 11 thus narrates the 
origin of the term blue stocking: — '* About this time it 
was much the fashion for several ladies to have evening 
assemblies, where the fair sex might participate in con- 
versation with literary and ingenious men, animated by 
a desire to please. These societies were denominated 
Blue-stocking Clubs; the origin of which title being 
little known, it may be worth while to relate it. One of 
the most eminent members of those societies, when they 
first commenced, was Mr. Stillingfleet, whose dress was 
remarkably grave, and in particular it was observed 
that he wore blue stockings. Such was the excellence 
of his conversation, that his absence was felt as so great 
a loss, that it used to be said, ' We can do nothing 
without the blue stockings V I'hus, by degrees, the 
title was established. Miss Hannah More has admi- 
rably described a Blue Stocking Club in her * Bas- 
il lea,' a poem in which many of the persons who were 
most conspicuous there are mentioned." 

Bos well was termed by Johnson " a very dutiable 
man" — meaning, doubtless, a lively, vivacious person, 
who made a capital listener, and was always ready to 
bowl the conversation along by appropriate sugges- 
tions. When they were on their journey in Scotland, 
Boswell says, u I mentioned a club in London, at the 
Boar's Head in Eastcheap, the very tavern where Fal- 
staff and his joyous companions met ; the members of 
which all assume Shakspeare's characters. One is Fal- 
staff, another Prince Henry, another Bardolph, and so 
on/' Johnson. — " Don't be of it, Sir. Now that you 
have a name y0n must be careful to avbid maty things, [ 
not bad in themselves, but which will lessen your cha- 
racteT. ,, Boswell adds, in a note, " I do not see why I 
might not have been of this club without lessening my 

In 1783, the year before Dr. Johnson died, he founded 
a humbler association than the " Literary Club." Writ- 
ing to Sir Joshua Reynolds, he says, " Tt will be hcM 
at the Essex Head, how kept by ah old servant of 
Th rale's. The company is numerous, and, as you will 
see by the list, miscellaneous. The terms are lax, and 
the expenses light. We meet thrice a week, and he 
who misses- forfeits two-pence." Prefixed to ithe rules 
of the club, u which," says Boswell, " Johnson himself, 
like his namesake, old Ben, eomposed," was the Quota- 
tion from Milton : — 

'* To-day deep thoughts With fne resolve to drendh 
In mirth, which fctrer ho repenting draws." 

The Literary Club, called the " King of Clubs," 
which used to meet at the Crown and Anchor in the 
Strand, was established about the year 1 801. Amongst 
its members have been Lord Holland, the present 
Marquis of Lansdowne, Sir J. Scarlett (now Lord 
Abmger), the late Sir James Mackintosh, and Lord 
Erskine, Mr. Rogers, the author of the • Pleasures of 
Memory,' the late Mr. Sharpe, known as "Con- 
versation Sharpe," &c. &c. The Club "sat on the 
Saturday of each month, at the Crown and Anchor 
Tavern, th the Strand, which at that time was a nest of 
boxes, each containing its club. The club was a grand 
talk. Every one seemed anxious to bring hrs contribu- 
tion of good sense or good humour, and diffused him- 
self over books and authors, and the prevalent topics 
of the day *." 

What a change has a few years produced ! " Good 
fellows" may still meet in taverns and coffee-houses 
under Dr. Johnson's "certain Conditions," but their 
proceedings are unmarked, and unknown to any but 
themselves. The word " club " has been carried off by 
a new species of assooHrtion, which nas prdduced a 
great *«ftfie*n*tft in the art of Hrtcry. Il fcas been 
• * Clutw of London/ vol, il, p. 160. 

objected, that these societies are not " clubs," in the 
" good old English " acceptation. But it seems idle to 
dispute the appropriation of the word — these associa- 
tions are, emphatically, The Clubs of London. The 
stranger who walks along Pall-Mail, and turns up St. 
James's Street, will pass a number of the finest build- 
ings in the metropolis; — these are " Club Houses," 
erected by the societies to which they belong, and ap- 
propriated exclusively to their purposes. Three or four 
of the clubs are avowedly political association^ admis- 
sion to them being supposed to stamp the political 
opinions and predilections of tfae members. Others 
occupy neutral ground, where educated, literary, tra- 
velled, and professional men are supposed to congre- 
gate, without reference to particular notions or opinions. 
What are termed w subscription " dub-honses, art the 
property of private individuals; and one or two of 
these enjoy a rather equivocal reputation, being sup- 
posed to be frequented by thosfe who are fond of gam- 
bling. If the exterior of the elub-houses (in Pali-Mall 
especially) attract the eye by their architectural Deau- 
ties, no less will the interior please the visiter by the 
elegance with which they are fitted up. here the 
members are in their own houses — they are " at home," 
surrounded by the comforts arid attention of a fashion- 
able hotel. They can stroll dow> to their " dubs," 
pass the day as they please, reading or writing, dine 
singly or in company, join in conversation, or retreat 
into a corner with the newspaper or the last * iteview.' 
The members of these dubs are admitted by a ballot 
election; they pay a certain sutn as entrance-money, 
and an annual subscription. The large number oi 
members of which generally each club is composed, the 
eager competition which exists for filling up vacancies 
as they occur, tbe new clubs and the new dub- houses 
Which are constantly springing up, — display, in a re- 
markable manner, the power of combination and con- 
centration. The scene presented by Pall Malt and St. 
James's Street cannot be matched ^-^-for nowhere in 
the world can be seen, in so short a time, so many 
noble buildings devoted by associations of men to 
their personal enjoyment, comfort, and convenience. 

There are thirty-sit principal clubs in London, 
embracing, probably, not less than 20,000 members 
Of conrse some individuals may be members of several 
clubs. These clubs, too, are in addition to the great 
number of literarjr and scientific associations in the 
metropolis, of which we shall have occasion to speak 
in treating of another class of London characteristics. 
The following clubs are in Pall-Mali: — The 'Union, in 
Trafalgar Square, Pall-Mall Bast; the University Club, 
for members of the universities of Cambridge and Ox- 
ford — (a u Junior University Club*' house is erecting 
just now, further on in Pall-MaTl, nearly facing the 
British Institution) ; the Athenaeum ; the United Ser- 
vice, for officers — (the Junior United Service is in 
Charles Street, St. James's Square) ; the Travellers' ; the 
Carlton ; and the Reform Cktb. In St. James's Street 
there are Boodle's Club, White's Club, the St. James s, 
and the Junior St. James's; the West India Club, 
Brookes's, the Cocoa Tree Club, Arthur's, the Albion, 
Graham's, and Crocfcford's. In St. James's Square, 
which lies inclosed between Pali-Mall and the east end of 
Piccadilly, there are the Wyndham Club and the Parthe 
non. The Clarence and the Clarendon are in Waterloo 
Place, close By Pall-Mall ; the Oriental is in Hanover 
Square; the Portland in Stafford Place, Oxford Street ; 
the Royal Naval in New Bond Street ; the Alfred in 
Albemarle Street ; arid the M Cercle des Etrangeres " in 
Regent Street. Proceeding eastwards, we find that the 
Westminster Chess Club hold their meetings at No. 101 
in the Strand ; the Garrick Club in King Street, Co 
vent Garden ; the "City Conservative hi Threadneedle 
Street <, and tire City of London Club has a handsome 
club-house in B*o*d Street. 

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[April Is 

[Entrance to the Harbour.] 

That part of the sea-coast of Hampshire which faces 
the north-east and the north coast of the Isle of Wight 
appears considerably fractured, especially when com- 
pared with the smoother outline of the sea-coast of 
the adjoining county of Sussex. Between Sussex and 
Hampshire there is an extensive and irregular curva- 
ture, in which lie the islands of Thorney and Hayling, 
with others of inferior dimensions ; west of this is the 
deep indentation forming Portsmouth Harbour; and 
farther west, running up in a north-westerly direction, 
is the inlet called Southampton Water. The celebrated 
roadstead called Spithead, which, from its safety and 
capaciousness, has been termed by sailors " the king's 
bedchamber," occupies the channel between the north 
of the Isle of Wight and that part of Hampshire which 
contains Portsmouth Harbour. 

The mouth of the entrance of Portsmouth Harbour 
is very nearly two miles wide — that is, between Fort 
Monckton, on the west, and South Sea Castle, on the 
east. Higher up, above Fort Monckton, is the well- 
known Haslar Hospital, a royal endowment for sick 
and wounded seamen. The building is surrounded by 
a high wall, nearly a mile in circumference, and has a 
frontage of 570 feet, with wings, each 550 feet long : 
this building can afford accommodation to 2000 pa- 
tients. Within the inclosure is a chapel, and build- 
ings for the officers. The entrance of the harbour 
becomes narrower, and forms a channel or strait, 
about a mile and a half in length, and varying from 
half a mile to less than a quarter in breadth, and 
across this part of the entrance an iron boom was 
formerly stretched. On the west side of this strait, 
above Haslar Hospital, is the town of Gosport, sur- 
rounded with fortifications ; — on the east side, opposite, 
are the towns of Portsmouth and Portsea (they are, in 
fact, one town, for all practical purposes), with the 
spacious dockyard, and all the accompaniments, of the 
chief naval arsenal of Great Britain. On passing 
through the channel, the harbour expands into a mag- 
nificent basin, or rather lake. Here, it is said, the 
greater part of the navy of this greatest of naval coun- 
tries could lie in perfeet safety. Portsmouth Harbour 

is the finest in Great Britain, with the exception at 
Milford Haven, in Pembrokeshire, which, from ks 
position, has not been so much used. Portsmouth 
Harbour, lying on the south coast of England, and 
within seventy miles of London, has been rendered 
the chief seat of our navy, though Chatham, in more 
recent years, has shared with it, and even approached 
it in some respects. 

The natural advantages of Portsmouth Harbour, 
which appears as if it were carved out for a navtl 
depdt, would direct attention to it from an early period. 
The harbour appears to have been the " Portus Magnus" 
of the Romans during their occupation of Britain : not 
far from the present Portsmouth was probably a town 
or station, which lay over against " Vectis," now the Isle 
of Wight. There is an entry in the Herald's books, io 
the College of Arms, which affirms that Henry I., in 
the sixth year of his reign (1106), incorporated the 
inhabitants under the title of "Approved men of Ports- 
mouth." A great number of charters were granted by 
successive monarchs, from Richard I. down to Charles II. 
The town of Portsmouth was burned by the French, 
before the reign of Edward IV., but it recovered, and 
that king commenced the fortifications of the place, 
which have ever since been kept up, improved, and ex- 
tended. The town is mentioned among the other towns 
in the eighteenth of Henry VIII. (1540), " For Re 
edifying of Townes," as having contained " in tyme* 
past divers and many beautifull houses of habitacion" 
within its walls, which had " fallen downe decayed, and 
at this day remaine unre-edified, and doo lye as desolate 
and vacante grounds, and many of them nygb. adjoining 
to the high streets, replennyshed with much unclenness 
and filth, with pittes, sellers, and vaultis, lying open 
and uncoverid, to the great peril and danger of the in* 
habitants. ,, These expressions are applied, not exclu- 
sively to Portsmouth, but to all the towns mentioned in 
the act — they mark an era in the history of the country. 
Since the establishment of the navy of England, Ports* 
mouth has ever been an important place, and flourished 
as that arm of our power flourished, partaking in all its 

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[Lion Gate, Portsta.] 

Portsea is the new town and Portsmouth the old 
town of the municipal and parliamentary borough of 
Portsmouth. The parliamentary borough consists of 
the whole parishes of Portsmouth and Portsea, and 
returns two members. The population in 1801 was 
33,226; in 1811 it had increased to 40,567; in 182L 
it was 45,648; and in 1831, 50,389. The borough 
and country round it, depend, of course, much upon 
the great naval establishments existing within their 
limits for their support. The municipal borough is 
divided, under the Municipal Corporations Reform Act, 
into seven wards, with fourteen aldermen, and forty- 
two councillors. 

Portsmouth felt severely the decline of business on 
the termination of the war in 1815. The injury has 
tot been a permanent one ; but even if it had, it could 
lot be put in the balance with the enormous advan- 
ajres which the entire nation has derived, amid alter- 
ations of trade, and commercial and political fluctua- 
ions, during the last twenty years of peace. * 4 If," 
ay the Boundary Commissioners, in their Report on 
Portsmouth, " the present prosperity of the place be 
roin pared with its prosperity in time of war, it may be 
considered as diminished; but if it be compared with 
>eriods of peace, it cannot be considered on the decline." 
Hie Municipal Commissioners who inspected the place 
ibotit three years ago are more decided in their expres- 
ion of opinion. They say, " The prosperity of the 
own is considered to hate depended mainly upon the 
•xcitement produced by the war, and to have declined 
nuch since the termination of it. We are of opinion 
:hat this notion is at any rate exaggerated. The popu- 
ation has been steadily upon the increase, and although 
>ne very important excitement to trade has subsided, 
tthera appear to have been created. The port is visited 
by six steam-vessels, some of which go and return seve- 
ral times in the day ; besides others which touch here 
in their passage to other places. In the last ten years 
the import of coal has increased 30 per cent. There is 
i large import of cattle from the West of England and 
the 1 sle of Wight ; 50,000 sheep have been brought in 
iu a single year. Irish corn and other provisions are 

brought hither, and wine is imported directly from the 
continent. More horses and carriages are kept than 
formerly. It is, however, said, that the new houses 
which are built are on a smaller scale than the old ones, 
and that profits are much reduced. In the last ten 
years of the war the average annual number of poor- 
rates was ten; in the ten years preceding the present 
it was twelve; last year (1833) there were sixteen 
rates. There are few persons of large fortune; the 
property is considered to be more equally distributed 
here than elsewhere." 

Portsmouth and Portsea are inclosed by strong for- 
tifications, and the sea-coast on each side of the mouth 
of the harbour is lined with batteries. The fortifica- 
tions extend in a semicircle round the town on the land 
side, forming a fine terrace, in some parts shaded with 
trees, and affording a variety of extensive and beautiful 
views. There are several grand entrance gateways. 
The dockyard is in Portsea : it is the largest in the 
kingdom. It has a sea-wharf wall, which extends 
along the shore of the harbour 3500 feet ; the mean 
breadth of the dockyard is about 2000 feet, and it 
covers upwards of 100 acres. It is entered from the 
town by a gateway, and may be visited by strangers 
without any formal introduction. The great basin has 
its entrance in the centre of the wharf-wall ; it is two 
acres and a half in area, 380 feet in length, and 260 feet 
in breadth ; four dry docks open into this basin, and on 
each side is another dry dock, all capable of receiving 
first-rate ships. Besides these, there is a double dock 
for frigates. There are also six building-slips, two of 
which are capable of receiving the largest vessels. The 
dockyard contains a royal naval college, a handsome 
building for a school of naval architecture (recently esta- 
blished), the Port Admiral's house, ranges of storehouses 
and workshops for almost every article required iu ship- 
building, a smithy, an iron and a copper-mill, a copper 
refinery, and wood-mills, where every article of turnery 
requisite for naval purposes is made. The ropery is 
three stories high, 54 feet broad, and 1094 long. 
There are two hemp-houses, and two sea-store houses, 
which occupy a line of building 800 feet in length; 

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[Apux 1: 

the other storehouses are on the same scale. Here is 
Brunei's celebrated blockmaking machinery, a duplicate 
of which is kept at Chatham, ready to be used, should 
that at Portsmouth ever get out of order. The gun- 
wharf consists of numerous and various ranges bf build- 
ings for the reception of guns, and all kinds of naval 

The workmen employed in Portsmouth dockyard are 
block-makers, braziers and tinmen, caulkers, carpenters, 
locksmiths, painters and glaziers, plumbers, sail-makers, 
sawyers, shipwrights, smiths, rope-makers, wheelwrights* 
workmen at wood-mills, at metal, &c, and labourers em- 
ployed in various departments. Convicts are employed 
at Portsmouth, as at other dockyards belonging to the 
naval service. Mr. Farr, in his article on Vital Statis- 
tics, in 'M^Culloch's Statistical Account of the feritish 
Empire,' gives some interesting deductions from a table 
of the number of workmen employed in the dockyard, 
and of the cases of absence from work on account of 
sickness for the three years preceding 1833. In a 
tabular form these deductions are as follows : — 

Average nuntbe* 

Number of Case*. 


of men. 

Disease*. Harts. 

1830 . 

. . 2,079 . . 

• 697 . . . 357 

1831 . 

. . 2,002 . . 

. 888 . . . 325 

1832 . 

• • 1,867 • • 

. 665 . . . 329 

The days of sickness from spontaneous disease amounted, 
during the three years, to 27,410, and the aays of sick- 
ness from injuries to 15,590 — total in the three years 
43,000. "This table," says Mr. Farr, "furnishes, as 
the mean of the three years, the following interesting 
results. In the year, one man in six is seriously hurt ; 
two in five fall ill. Each man, on an average, has an 
attack of illness, either spontaneous or caused by ex- 
ternal injury, every two years ; and, at an average, each 
disease lasts fourteen days. In a tabular form the 
results will be more distinctly parceptible. Annual 
proportion of attacks and accidents occurring to 100 
men in the Portsmouth dockyard, and the mean dura- 
tion of each case : — 

Duration of each 
No. jMt cent. caee in Days. 

Spontaneous attacks • • 37*8 • • • . 12-2 ' 
Injuries ...... 16*0 • • • • 15*6 




Thus, out of a 100 men, 53*8 are annually laid up for 
a time from disease or injury, and the meau duration of 
each case of illness in days is 139. 

There have been several accidents by fire both to 
shipping in the harbour of Portsmouth, and to the 
dockyard. In 1776 an incendiary, named John Aitkin, 
commonly called "Jack the Painter," was the means of 
burning the rope-houses and other buildings. He was 
tried and executed for the crime. 

By means of the semaphore telegraph, communica- 
tions can be conveyed between the Admiralty, in Lon- 
don, and Portsmouth, in five minutes. The mail runs 
in nine hours and ten minutes. 

There is nothing remarkable in Portsmouth and 
Portsea, if we except the fortifications, dockyard, &c. 
Portsmouth parish-church is a large ancient building. 
In the western suburb is the custom-house — the gross 
receipt of customs duties in 1834 was 55,173/. ; and in 
1835, 51,887/. The parish-church of Portsea is two 
miles from the town : there are a number of chapels of 
ease and dissenting-chapels in Portsea and Portsmouth. 
Among the more remarkable events in the history of 
the place may be mentioned the assassination of George 
Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, by Felton, on the 24th 
of August, 1628; and the marriage of Charles II., 
which look place in the garrison chapel. 

Gosport contains a population (7000 in 1831) very 
similarly occupied to that of Portsmouth. It has been 
benefited by the removal of the victualling establish- 

ment to it from Portsmouth, which took place a fei 
years ago. The town is locked in on the land side b 
fortifications, and adjoining it are a variety of Govern 
ment works fat the supply of the navy, with extensn 


{Continued fnrtn fro. 928.] 

Ow THfc various Articles of ordinary Dirt. 

Animal Food. — All the ordinary varieties of animsj 
footl may be eaten by persons in robust health ; but « 
this class of eaters is unfortunately hot a very large oc* 
(especially in large towns), it becomes a point of grtt: 
interest to settle the precedency of goodness amosr 
articles of food, and to decide which may be given u. 
the most queasy stomachs. 

Mutton and B*ef. — It has always been asserted, aad 
we think w'ith justice, that beef and mutton are of m<n 
easy digestion than veal and lamb ; — a circumstaic? 
which may depend partly on natural causes, and -parti/ 
on the absurd custom of whitening the flesh of tbt 
younger animals by repeated bleedings, which neces- 
sarily induce a morbid state of the muscles, or, in otbe 
words, of the meat. 

We must observe, too, that delicate stomachs manag? 
mutton much better than beef; the latter, at least 
when roasted, being rather rfc/i, as the phrase is. The 
robust, on the other hand, seem to derive more nourish- 
ment from beef than from mutton ; and a celebrated 
trainer made a distinction between " beef-eaters 5t aed 
" sheep-biters," as he called them. The ioiii of beef, i: 
may be added, has received the Honour of knighthood, 
and is styled the " sirloin •. "-•— 

" Our second Charles of fame facete, 
Ob loin of beef did dint ; 
He held hie iwoid, pleas' d, o'er the meat, 
' Arise, thou famed Sir Loin ! ' " 

Ballad of the Hew Sir John Barityejr*. 

Pork is certainly less digestible than the preceding 
meats, and must be shunned by valetudinarian stomachs* 
It is said that when Fuseli wished to enrich bis pic- 
tures with grotesque or horrible fantasies, he was woat 
to sup on about three pounds of half-dressed pork- 

Galen, however, stands up for the digestibility of 
pork, and maintains that of all aliments it nourishes 
the most, because it is of good juice and easy digestion; 
and it is digestible, as well for other reasons, as for its 
similarity to human flesh. 

This fancy of Galen's is curiously confirmed by a pas- 
sage in the * Romance of Coeur de Lion.' On recover- 
ing from an ague in Syria, King Richard longed vio- 
lently for pork, and as this was not to be procured, an 
old knight recommended the substitution of Saraceas 
flesh. This was done with the most perfect success. 
The good-humoured monarch did not discover the im- 
position till he called for # 

« the head of that ilk fctrra* 
That I of ate— " 

and then he testified surprise rather than displeasure. 
Our readers will find the verses at considerable length 
in Meg Dods's ' Cookery Book,' art. * To Broil Poss 

At the veterinary school of Alfort, in France, pigs 
are fed upon horseflesh, which gave rise to a discussion 
not long since, as to the wholesomeness of the resulting 

* Most readers would be more thankful for a receipt to pre- 
vent, than to produce, the night-mare ; and we wiU therefore ob- 
serve that Dr. Strahl, a Prussian physician, who has written aa 
octavo of 233 pages on the subject, saya that the best remttfy is 
chamomile tea. The infusion must be Veryweak and very not , 
but hot water cannot be nibstitated for it The doctor had be* 
a martyr to the disease himself. 

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1 837. J 



pork. A commission was appointed to investigate the 
subject, and they decided that the pork was wholesome. 
£&acon has. long formed a considerable portion of the 
food of husbandmen in this country, and seems unob- 
jectionable for men working hard in the open air, 
though not to be recommended (except as an occa- 
sional condiment) to those of sedentary habits. Cob- 
be it's enthusiasm in favour of bacon is well known; 
the fatter the better: lean bacon, he says, is good only 
for drunkards, to stimulate their jaded appetites ; and 
the man who cannot eat fat bacon is fit only for an 
hospital. From bacon we are naturally led to salted 
meat in general, and its influence on health. 

Mutton, as well as beef, was formerly salted in im- 
mense quantities in this country, and was the common 
food of those who got any meat at all, during the 
winter months. Thus we find that when the insurgent 
barons ravaged the estates of the elder Spenser in the 
reign of Edward II., he had an enormous quantity of 
salt meat in his larder ; in the words of Hume, u Before 
I conclude this reign, I cannot forbear making another 
remark, drawn from the detail of losses given in by the 
elder Spenser; particularly the great quantity of salted 
meat which he had in his larder, 600 bacons, 80 car- 
casses of beef, 600 muttons. We may observe that the 
outrage of which he complained began after the 3rd of 
May, or the 1 1th, (new style,) as we learn from the same 
paper. It is easy, therefore, to conjecture what a vast 
store of the same kind he must have laid up at the be- 
ginning of winter; and we may draw a new conclusion 
with regard to the wretched state of ancient husbandry, 
which could not provide subsistence for the cattle during 
winter, even in such a temperate climate as the south 
of England ; for Spenser had but one manor so far 
north as Yorkshire. There being few or no in closures, 
except perhaps for deer, no sown grass, little hay, and 
no other resource of feeding cattle ; the barons, as well 
as the people, were obliged to kill and salt their oxen 
and sheep in the beginning of winter, before they be- 
came lean upon the common pasture — a precaution 
still practised with regard to oxen in the least culti- 
vated parts of this island. The salting of mutton is a 
miserable expedient, which has everywhere been long 
disused. From this circumstance, however trivial in 
appearance, may be drawn important inferences with 
regard to the domestic economy and manner of life in 
those ages." 

The •* miserable expedient" of salting mutton seems 
to have struck Cobbett's fancy, as he declares his inten- 
tion of making flitches of " sheep-bacon * ;'' but we 
do not find it recorded that he actually put his threat 
into execution. He disapproves of salting the shoulders 
and legs. 

Nor had things improved much in this respect two 
centuries afterwards ; for in the abstract of the • Nor- 
thumberland Household Book,' given by Hume, we 
find that " One hundred and nine fat beeves are to be 
bought at Allhallow-tide at thirteen shillings and four- 
pence a-piece ; and twenty-four lean beeves to be bought 
at St. Helen's at eight shillings a-piecp ; these are to 
be put into the pastures to feed; ai}d are to serve from 
Midsummer to Michaelmas, which is consequently the 
only time that the family eats fresh beef: during all 
the rest of the year they live on salted meat. * * * 
Six hundred and forty-seven sheep are allowed, at 
twenty-pence a-piece ; and these seem also to be all eat 
salted, except between Lammas and IVf ichaelmas." This 
Household Book was drawn up in 1512. 

The scurvy, now almost or quite confined to seamen, 
was then one of the commonest diseases on land ; and 
may justly be attributed, as well as the leprosy, to the 
salt meat, and want of vegetables. 

* * Cottage Economy,' $ 157. 

Dr. Mateer has lately given an account of the bad 
e fleets produced among the poor of Belfast, by the 
constant use of salted provisions. 

Poultry, — On this subdivision but littk Bead be said. 
Turkeys and fowls are excellent food : so are geese and 
ducks, but not for weak stomachs. Dr. Stark found 
six troy ounces of roasted goose, with thirty, of bread, 
and three pints of water, to be one of his best diets ; he 
says, u in every respect I was hearty and vigorous, both 
in body and mind." (p. 112.) The stuffing of sage and 
onions usually eaten with gees^ and ducks, is particu- 
larly obnoxious to feeble stomachs. 

Game. — Most if not all of the foods commonly classed 
under this head are wholesome and easily digested. 
Perhaps hare should be sparingly used by the valetudi- 
narian, as well as the fat of venison. Burton, in his 
' Anatomy of Melancholy,' classes the hare among 
meats to be shunned by the melancholic. 

We do not agree with Dr. Kitchener, who says of 
the pheasant that its rarity is its best recommendation : 
the high price which it has maintained in our markets 
for several centuries, is no small proof of its intrinsic 
excellence. Echard mentions in his ' History of Eng- 
land,' that in 1299 the price of a pheasant was four- 
pence; in the 'Northumberland Household Book 1 it 
is directed that pheasants are to be bought at a shilling 
a piece, while two-pence only is to be given for a 
partridge ; and in some regulations for the markets in 
London in the early part of Charles I.'s reign, it is 
ordered that a cock pheasant is to be sold for six shil- 
lings, and a hen pheasant for five *. 

Fish forms an agreeable variety of diet, but a bad 
staple food. If fresh, it might be eaten twice a week 
instead of meat; but if salted, once would be enough, 
and more than enough. The proclamations of Queen 
Elizabeth on this point (given in Hallam's * Constitu- 
tional History of England') are very curious. She 
wished to encourage the fisheries, and diminish the too 
rapid consumption of meat, and, at the same time, 
avoid the imputation of leaning to Catholicism. She 
therefore threatens with her severe displeasure all who 
shall attribute her injunctions to any but politico- 
economical motives. 

Fish is often recommended to convalescents from 
febrile diseases, as being much less stimulating than 
meat In such cases, however, a selection of the most 
digestible fish must be made ; for salmon, eels, or shell- 
fish would be more likely to do harm than mutton or 
beef. Oysters, like other fish, should be scrupulously 
shunned during the months that they are out of season. 
The rule is, that oysters are out of season during the 
months that have no r in their name ; but there is an 
exception in favour of the last twenty-six days of 

Of all fish, however, in these climates, mussels are 
the most suspicious, not to say dangerous. Dr. Christi- 
son says, " Of fishes which are commonly nutritive, but 
which sometimes acquire poisonous properties, by far 
the most remarkable is the common Mu&sel. Oppor- 
tunities have often occurred for observing its effects,— 
so often, indeed, that its occasional poisonous qualities 
have become an important topic of medical police ; and 
in some parts, as in the neighbourhood of Edinburgh 
and Leith, it has of late been abandoned by many 
people as an article of food, although generally relished, 
and in most circumstances undoubtedly safe. This 
result originated in an " accident which happened at 
Leith in 1827, and by which no fewer than thirty 
people were severely affected, and two killed t." 

A remarkable case, which terminated fatally, occurred 
in London in 1838, and is narrated by Dr, T. Thorn p- 

* Hume, 
f « Treatise on Poison*/ p. 462. 

Digitized by 




[Apeil 15, 1837. 

son in the 'Medical Quarterly Review ' (vol. iii., p. 
179 et seq.). Though the patient was closely questioned 
as to his diet during the week preceding his illnes3, he 
did not mention anything likely to produce the symp- 
toms ; and it was not known until after hts death that 
he had eaten mussels. Had the poor man known that 
mussels are a suspicious food, and mentioned them 
accordingly, it is probable that the termination of the 
case would have been different. 

Fish will not sit easily on certain delicate stomachs 
without the assistance of some stimulus, as cayenne 
pepper, or wine ; and hence, in Swift's * Polite Con- 
versations,' where every witticism, as he tells us, is 
sanctioned by the usage of at least a century, when 
one of the speakers observes, that fish should swim 
thrice, and another asks, " How is that ? " he replies, 
" First, in the sea ; secondly, in butter ; thirdly, in 
good claret" 

Milk and Butter have in all ages been among the 
most favourite articles of nutriment. "He asked 
water, and she gave him milk ; she brought forth 
butter in a lordly dish*." Milk, in particular, has 
been panegyrized equally by the philosopher and the 
merely practical man. Dr. Prout having observed that 
milk, which is absolutely furnished by nature as food, 
was essentially composed of three ingredients, viz., sac- 
charine, oily, and albuminous or curdy matter, was by 
degrees led to the conclusion that all the alimentary 
matters employed by man and the more perfect animals 
might be reduced to the same three general heads. 
He thinks it probable that a mixture of two at least, if 
not of all three, of the classes of nutriment is necessary ; 
and goes on to say, — " But it is in the artificial food 
of man that we see this great principle of mixture most 
strongly exemplified. He, dissatisfied with the pro- 
ductions spontaneously furnished by Nature, calls from 
every source, and by the power of his reason, or rather 
his instinct, forms in every possible manner, and under 
every disguise, the same great alimentary compound. 
This, after all his cooking and art, how much soever he 
may be inclined to disbelieve it, is the sole object of 
his labour; and the more nearly his results approach 
to this, the more nearly they approach perfection. 
Thus, from the earliest times, instinct has taught him 
to add oil or butter to farinaceous substances, such as 
bread, and which are naturally defective in this principle. 
The same instinct has taught him to fatten animals, 
with the view of procuring the oleaginous in conjunc- 
tion with the albuminous principle, which compound 
he finally consumes, for the most part in conjunction 
with saccharine matter, in the form of bread or vege- 
tables. Even in the utmost refinements of his luxury, 
and in his choicest delicacies, the same great principle 
is attended to ; — and his sugar and flour, his eggs and 
butter, in all their various forms and combinations, are 
nothing more or less than disguised imitations of the 
great alimentary prototype, milk, as presented to him 
by Nature." 

Now hear the truly practical man : — " As to the use 
of milk, and of that which proceeds from milk, in a 
family, very little need be said. At a certain age, bread 
and milk are all that a child wants. At a later age 
they furnish one meal a day for children. Milk is, at 
all seasons, good to drink. Jn the making of pud- 
dings, and in the making of bread, too, how useful is 
it ! Let any one who has eaten none but baker's bread 
for a good while taste bread home-baked, mixed with 
milk instead of with water ; and he will find what the 
difference is. There is this only to be observed, that 
in hot weather bread mixed with milk will not keep so 
long as that mixed with water. It will, of course, turn 
sour sooner. 

* Judges v. 26. 

" Before I quit the uses to which milk may be puf, 
let me mention, that, as mere drink, it is, unless, per- 
haps, in case of heavy labour, better, in my opinion, 
than any beer, however good. I have drinked little 
else for the last five years, at any time of the day- 
Skim- milk, I mean V 

This popular writer in another place expresses great 
indignation against those rakish persons for whom milk 
is too heavy. Nevertheless, it too often happens in 
large towns, that people quite guiltless of excess are 
unable to digest large quantities of milk. An emineut 
physician-accoucheur lately informed us of a case where 
a young child, after some days' suffering, brought up a 
piece of hardened curd, which was at firs! mistaken fur 
a fish; nay, more, he had found even soldiers inca- 
pable of digesting this aliment. So much does habu 
change even the instinctive faculties of nature ! h 
England cow's milk is almost exclusively used ; but 
that of the goat is very tolerable, and often supplies its 
place on shipboard. In some parts of Germany she 
goats are found to make excellent wet-nurses, and trot 
to their foster-children on hearing their cries witk 
admirable readiness. 

Asses' milk is chiefly prized as a remedy for cot- 
sumptive patients ; it is said to be the nearest to hunua 
milk. The high price mentioned in the following ad- 
vertisement would seem to show that it was jo great 
vogue in the beginning of. the last century -— f* ./Uses' 
milk to be had at Richard Stout's, at the sigsoftbe 
Ass, at Knights-bridge, for three shillings aad si- 
pence per quart ; the ass to be brought to the bsfer s 

* Cobbett'i « Cottage Economy,' § 111 a Ui\ 
t « Port Boy/ December 6, 171 1. 
[To be continued.^ 

Fair of Nijnei Novgorod. — Since the publication of tfee 
account of this fair, in No. 321, we have received meepv of 
the ' Northern Bee/ a Russian journal, which contains it* 
following official statement of merchandise brought to Nijnv 
Novgorod from 1825 to 1836: — 

Rubles. fceUee. 

. 96,329,525 
. 116,893,M>6 
. 117,210-395 
. 107493,395 
. 119,193^40 
. 11 8,000,000 -ti— 

This statement, it will be seen, varies from the amount given 
for 1829 in the former article; but that, as we have there 
said, was only the estimate of M. Bussiere. The same 
journal states that the Emperor Nicholas visited the lair d 
1836, and distributed presents. He ordered at the same 
time that a building should be constructed for the reoideDce 
of the governor upon the hill, from whence a Ane view el 
the confluence of the two rivers is obtained. It is saii 
also, that a canal is in progress, to facilitate the carriage of 
heavy goods from the market to the river. 

1825 . 

. . 46345,829 


1826 . , 

. 47,93il,545 


1827 . 

. . 52,410.926 


1828 . 

. 57,371,399 


1829 . < 

. 50,104,971 


1830 . , 

. 91,281,940 


Beading. — At no period were there ever more books read 
by that part of our population most qualified to draw delight 
and good from reading; and when we enter mechanics 
libraries, and see them filled with simple, quiet, earnest men. 
and find such men now sitting on stiles in the country, deeply 
sunk into the very marrow and spirit of a well-handled vo- 
lume, where we used to meet them in riotous and recklesi 
mischief, we are proud and happy to look forward to that 
wide and formerly waste field, over which literature is extend- 
ing its triumphs, and to see the beneficent consequences thai 
will follow to the whole community.— William Howitt. 

•*• The Office of the Society for the Diffumoo of Ueafal Knov)ed«e to a» 
59. Lincoln'* Inn Field*. 

Printed by William Clowsi and Sow* Sturierd Street 

Digitized by 



0* TBI 

Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. 



[April 22, 1837. 

The Salmon. 

[Salmon Scaring.] 

The family of the salmon and trout (Salmonida) is 
one of the most interesting; classes of British fishes, hut 
at present our attention will he confined to the common 
salmon (Salmo solar). The herring, the pilchard, or 
the mackerel, may he appropriated by any who please 
to direct their attention to their capture ; but the case 
is different with regard to the salmon, the right of im- 
propriation originating in its peculiar habits. The pre- 
servation of these rights has long been the object of 
legislative enactments, and an error on a point of natu- 
ral history may be the means of rendering the protec- 
tive law useless or oppressive. There has, therefore, 
been every stimulus which arises out of personal in- 
terest to study the most intimate habits of the salmon, 
and yet the facts which have been ascertained are weak- 
ened to such an extent by local differences, that legis- 
lation is still at fault upon the question of protection. 

The great point of difference between the salmon 
and the fishes which have hitherto been noticed is, 
that while the latter reside exclusively in the ocean, 
the salmon is an inhabitant both 'of fresh and salt 
water. The salmon, as Izaak Walton truly says, is 
accounted the " king of fresh-water fish ;" and with 
regard to its peculiar habit, it is quaintly remarked by 
the good old angler, that " he has, like some persons 
of honour and riches which have both their winter and 

Vol. VI. 

summer residences, the fresh rivers for summer and the 
salt-water for winter, to spend his life in." The fish 
seems to undergo a periodical alteration which fits it 
for a change in the quality of its native element ; and 
the manner in which its habits are thus adapted to the 
two extremes of fresh water and the water of the ocean, 
which is at once fatal to other fish, is a proof of (he 
wonderful powers of modification which are exercised 
not only in man, but, in this instance, in the inferior 
objects of creation. A salt-water fish, which is not 
acted upon by this modifying power, if put into fresh 
water, would suffer as much as an animal partially de- 
prived of air, its motions becoming agitated, its respi- 
ration affected, and death ensuing in a very short space 
of time. The same effects may be witnessed on placing 
a fresh-water fish in salt water. There have been at- 
tempts made, by rendering the change gradual, to adapt 
the constitution of fishes to a different quality of its 
proper element ; but such experiments are curious ra* 
ther than useful, and if they succeeded the fish would 
doubtless become deteriorated as an article of food. It 
is generally better to co-operate with nature than to 
thwart her plans. 

The salmon is a northern fish, and is not found fur- 
ther sonth than in some of the rivers on the western, 
coasts of France. In America it ascends the St. Law- 

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rence, and enters the tributary stream* of Lake Ontario; 
but its progress within the United States is arrested by 
the Falls of the Niagara. Gesner, a naturalist of the 
early part of the sixteenth century, observed that "4herc 
was no better Salmon than in England ;*' and Izaak 
Walton states, that "though some of our northern 
countries have as large and as fat as the river Thames, 
yet none are of so excellent a taste.* Owing to the 
progress of population and the extension of manufac- 
tures, the salmon rivers in England are far less pro- 
ductive than formerly. A Thames salmon is now rarely 
seen, and the rivers of the north of England, as well as 
those of the west, though they have not declined to the 
same extent as the Thames, or the Avon in Hampshire, 
are not now of much commercial importance. The 
case is different in Scotland, the principal supply of 
salmon being derived from the fay, the Tweed, the 
Dee, the Don, and most of the streams along the coast. 
The salmon rivers k Ireland are the Erne, the Moy, 
the Bann, the IWaAwaler, the Shannon, and nearly all 
the principal streams along the northern and western 

In the summer salmon inhabit the sea or the mouths 
of rivers, which they ascend in autumn for the purpose 
of depositing their spawn. They do not return to the 
sea until the spring, after having completed this task. 
It has been ascertained by experiments that the ova of 
salmon will not become productive in still water. They 
must he deposited in a clear gravelly bed, where there 
is a strong running current ; and towards the head of 
the stream, where the temperature of the water is least 
variable, is the best adapted for the purpose. The 
salmon will make extraordinary efforts to reach the 
upper portion of large rivers, or they will diverge in 
their course up its tributary streams, the female fish 
being the first to make the ascent. The migration 
does not take place immediately on the fish leaving the 
sea; but they advance up the river as far perhaps as 
the tide-way is felt, and when the ebb takes place, again 
descend to the mouth of the river. By thus remaining 
partly in salt and partly in fresh water they are probably 
better prepared for a long continuance in the latter. 
On first coming from the sea the salmon is infested 
with a parasitic animal, which it soon loses; and it has 
been thought that the tittnovauoe which it experiences 
was the means of directing the ft*h into clear water, but 
its movements are doubtless caused by an inslinctire 
feeling of much more importance, and this is the more 
likely as the Urneaa scUmonea does not fasten itself 
upon the sensible parts. After long continuance in the 
river, the salmon is attacked by a species of maggot, of 
which it gets rid soon after it enters the sea ; in the one 
case the fresh, and in the other the salt water being 
noxious to the paratiti. The precise period at which 
the salmon enters the river does not appear to depend 
entirely upon the state of the ova, for while some fish 
proceed far up the river, the roe of others is in so mature 
a state that they can advance but half way, and others 
are compelled to seek out a suitable place in the 
shallows nearer its mouth. The great majority, how- 
ever, as they get full of roe, ascend beyond the tide- 
way, after a short continuance in the brackish water, 
and push on towards the sources of the stream, over- 
coming impediments which might be thought insur- 
mountable. They will clear rapids or weirs which are 
eight or ten feet in height, and though at first baffled 
in their efforts, resume the attempt with surprising 
vigour. Sometimes they overshoot or mistake their 
mark and throw themselves upon dry laud. Though 
they seldom spring out of the water more than ten feet, 
they have been known to descend a fall of the height of 
thirty feet; and to leap over a dry rock of considerable 
height and drop into the water on th » other side. There 
is a fall on the Beauly, in Invernesshire, where! accord- 1 

ing to Mr. Mudie, in the 'British ftataralist,' the mi 
of a voluntarily cooked salmon has been witnessed. \i 
kettle, it is said, was placed upon the flat rock on thi 
south side of the fall, close by the edge of the watt: 
and kept full and boiling until a salmon fell into \k 
kettle and was cooked on the spot. This fall is said u 
be literally thronged with salmon endeavouring to m 
higher up the river. It is an old opinion, and still \m 
geuerally entertained, that previous to making a spno? 
the fish curves its body and puts its tail in its mouth, 
Michael Drayton, iu his ' Polyolbion,' alluding to j 
salmon-leap in the Tivy, has adopted this opinion :- 

" Here, when the labouring fish does at the foot arriw, 
And finds that by his strength he does but vainly strife; 
His tail takes in his mouth, and bending like a bow 
That 's to full compass drawn, aloft himself doth throw; 
Then springing at hi* height, as doth a little wand, 
That b bended end to end, and started from man's haod, 
Far off itself doth cast j — so does the salmon vault" 

The fact, however, has been ascertained by obserratKs, 
that salmon spring up nearly in a perpendicular liw, 
and with a strong tremulous motion. Wheu a pair d 
salmon have reached a favourable place in the shall** 
water, they proceed, generally in the morning or in tl« 
evening twilight, to make a furrow with their uosesiotl* 
gravel, working against the stream; for if theviwnec 
in the opposite direction, the water would enter their 
gills and u drown *' them. Into this furrow the spawn 
is deposited, the process occupying from eight totwehe 
days. The jaw of the male becomes hard, and grows 
like a horny substance, previous to the breeding season: 
it is thus enabled to form the spawning-bed, which i: 
from eighteen to twenty inches deep in the hard ^rarti. 
Pennant says, that the tail is used to cover the ova wits 
gravel, as after spawning it is observed to hare no ^3 
on that part The fish afterwards retire to some neigh- 
bouring pool to recruit themselves. In a fortnight «r 
three weeks afterwards the male fish descends the stream 
the female being the last to leave, as it is the first to 
reach, the spawning-ground. The female fish some- 
times does not depart until the ova are nearly hatched. 
They are from 17,000 to 20,000 in number/according 
to an experiment made by boiling the roe sod coin- 
ing as many as would fill a certain measure, the res 
being subsequently estimated. For a short time, 1 ^a 
before and after spawning, Salmon are unfit for food.u 
change which they undergo at this period being a pro- 
vision which is intended as a means of preserving im 
species; and a disregard of this significant alteration 
has diminished the numbers in many of the princijai 
rivers. Before spawning, the colour of the male (Wiis 
orange or red, and the flesh of both male and (» e 
becomes hard and unpalatable : the male is then ca<W 
a " red fish," and the female a u black fish," fw» i[ > 
dark hue. After spawning, they continue for *> m 
time lean and out of condition, and are then terrow 
" kipper," or " kelt-fish." The appearance o( tie 
salmon in a healthy state is (oo familiar to need de- 
scription : its quality may be known by the colour 
the flesh, which is of a delicate red. Sir Humpf'O 
Davy ascertained that the red colour of the Salm^ 
is owing to a peculiar coloured oil, which may i* e 
tracted by alcohol. The depth of the red colour*^ 
the quantity of curd are generally proportional, 
salmon, while in their weak state, descend from poo 
pool after spawning, and are at length carried to ^ 
by the winter or early spring floods, before reacniflp 
which, however, they again remain some lime m 
brackish water. ■ 

Besides the regular effects of the seasons, it* 
flue nee of the variations to which they are liable is ^ 
felt under circumstances which might be 8U PP j^ 
almost beyond their reach. The vivificau'on o 
salmon would appear to depend solely on the & u 

Digitized by 





spring-, when the effect of a warmer sun would be ob- 
structed by no casualty; but this is not always the 
case. If, during the autumn and winter, the rivers are 
not swollen by floods, the spawn is deposited in its 
gravelly bed in safety; but the occurrence of floods 
occasion the salmon to ascend too high up the sire am, 
and when they subside tba ova are left dry. On the 
other hand, those beds which are in the most favour- 
able situations may be covered by an accumulation of 
sand brought down by floods* and the fry cannot pos- 
sibly make their escape; or the newly-disturbed gravel 
may be swept away by a slight fresh soon after the 
ova are deposited. Doubtless, instinct directs the fish 
to select a situation which is the least exposed to such 
mischances. It is said that if more pairs of salmon 
resort to one spawning-place than there is convenient 
room for, they will destroy each other's furrows, thus 
affording in fish a curious exemplification of a prin- 
ciple which seems to be in operation throughout the 
whole kingdom of Nature. 

Experiments have been made at various limes re- 
lative to the vivification of the ova of salmon, the most 
interesting of which are the two following : — The first 
is detailed by Dr. Knox, in the ' Transactions of the 
Royal Society of Edinburgh/ On the 2nd of Novem- 
ber, he observed the ova of a salmon deposited in the 
usual manner near the sources of the Tweed. On the 
25th of February, or a hundred and sixteen days after- 
wards, the ova were dug up and found to be unchanged. 
On the 23rd of March, twenty weeks from the period 
of their deposition, the ova were changing, the fry 
lying in the gravel, after having cast the outer shell. 
On the 1st of April the fry had quitted the spawning- 
bed by ascending through the gravel. The ova may 
be hatched artificially by being put into bottles of water 

[l. Hie t%if, pea, or spawn, of the natural size, after the vital principle has 
bwn developed. The body of the fish, iu this stage, is of a pinkish tinge, 
and the sue of the eyes highly disproportionate. 2. The shell of the ovum 
just burst, and the hi-ad of the fish protruding from it.] 

[3. State of the ovum eight hoars after the bursting of the shell, when the 
pulsations of the heart become visible. 4. The shell lust thrown off; the 
tail drooping. About a third part ef the shell, which is transparent, is 
fractured by the fish in its exertions to extricate itself. Before the shell is 
broken, the uil envelopes the yolk, which is seen attached to the body of 
the fish. 5. In a short time the tail becomes straight, and the fish more 
lively; the mouth assumes a distinct form, and the lower jaw and pectoral 
tins, which are quite transparent, are iu motion and articulate with the 
motion of the heart, which beats from sixty to sixty-five times in a minute.] 

r Jk Magnified representation of No, 3; the fish adhering to the shell, which 
is only partially broken. 7. (No. 5 magnified). The heart is before the 

Kctoral fl as, under the throat. A day or two after the fish leaves the shell, 
ebsg. which was at first round, becomes mow and more elongated, and 
it appears to have an outer case ; a transparent part, apparently empty, 
being seen at the end.] 


[8. A second magnified view of No. 5, showing the direction in which the 
blood circulates, as seen by a microscope. The blood flows from nnder the 
body of the fish through the blood-vessels, ramified along the sides of the 
back, and is then collected into the large vessel which ruus along the front 
and bottom of the bap, communicating directly with the heart. An equal 
quantity of air, or some transparent matter, circulates with the blood. The 
blood is drawn by the heart from the large vessel alluded to. and thrown in 
regular pulsations into the vessels of tho head and throat, where it assumes 
a darkor colour. The rays of the gills are visible, and the fish soon be- 
comes to assume a brownish colour.] 

in warm 'rooms, but they cannot be preserved alive 
longer than ten days, during which they eat nothing. 
The other experiment was made by Mr. Hogarth, of 
Aberdeen, and is still more minute in its details than 
the former one ; and it is also exemplified by en- 
gravings showing the progress of the spawn of salmon. 
In the rivers and streams the ova become vivified 
during the months of March and April, according to 
the state of the season. By the end of May the water 
is full of the fry, from an inch in size, perfectly formed, 
to the size of a minnow. At first they keep in shallow 
water, but as their strength increases, they may be 
seen in the middle of the river or stream, moving 
towards the sea. The first flood or fresh which occurs 
at this period hurries them to the mouth of the river, 
where for a short time they remain in the tide-way, and 
then proceed at once to the sea. In June, not a single 
"smelt" or " smoult," which is the name given to 
the fry, is to be found in the fresh water. The charac- 
teristics of the full-grown fish are not easily discernible 
in the fry of different species of salmon, nor in the 
adult fish can a common observer distinguish one kind 
of salmon from another, without some knowledge of 
the differences occasioned by age or by the season. 
Mr. Yarrell's valuable work* points out the specific 
distinctions of each species at any age or season. Many 
extraordinary statements are made relative to the growth 
of salmon fry after reaching the sea. By the end of 
June many of the fry hatched a couple of months pre- 
viously, weigh from 2 to 8 lbs., and somewhat later 
they are found of the weight of 6 lbs. Those under 
2 lbs. are termed " salmon-peal," and all above this 
weight " grilse." During the second year the growth 
of the salmon is as rapid as in the first months of its 
existence. Sand-eels and other nutritious matter form 
their sustenance, while they continue in the sea, and 
are at once the cause of their rapid growth, and the 
excellence of the salmon as food. The salmon breeds 
during the first year, ascending rivers or streams in 
the autumn as already described. Notwithstanding 
the many enemies to which they are exposed, salmon 
are often taken which have attained a very large srae* 
Pennant mentions a salmon weighing 74 lbs., and Mr» 
Yarrell one still heavier, the largest, it is believed, 
which has yet been noticed. It weighed 83 lbs., and 
the flesh was fine in colour, and of excellent quality, 
A salmon weighing 54* lbs. has been taken with a fly 
in Scotland, and Sir Humphry caught one i» the 
Tweed by this means, which weighed 42 lbs. A 
Thames salmon is now comparatively rare : an instance 
is mentioned of one weighing 21 i lbs. having been 
killed in 1812, with a single gut without a landi»g-aet. 

• < History of British rbhei.' * 
U 2 

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[April 21 

Some other facts concerning the natural history of 
the salmon will be incidentally noticed in a future 

The wood-cut at the head of this article represent! 
" Salmon- Spearing," which mode of taking the fish 
will be noticed in a subsequent paper. 

[The Salmon. — Safmo Hilar.] 


[Continued from No. 333.] 

Butter, as we learn from Adelung, is called in German, 
butler; in the dialect of Lower Saxony, hotter; in 
Dutch, boter ; in Anglo-Saxon, bulere ; in Latin, buly- 
rum ; in Italian, butiro or burro ; and in French, beurre. 
He thinks that the Germans have derived the word, as 
well as the thing itself, from their Tartar ancestors. 
The universality with which butter is diffused over 
every climate where it can be made is certainly an 
argument in favour of its use. We say every climate 
where it can be made, for in extremely hot countries 
butter vanishes into oil. Something, however, approxi- 
mating to butter is found even in Hindostan, where it 
is called ghee. Butter and lard are almost of equiva- 
lent value for frying, though the professors of cookery 
lay down many rules as to when one is to be preferred, 
and when the other. Olive oil is used instead for fry- 
ing by Catholics on fast-days, but though an elegant, 
is, in this country, an expensive substitute. There is 
a popular theory afloat, that butter is bilious; which 
means, we suppose, that it increases the secretion of 
bile to an inconvenient degree. This may probably 
be the case with some dyspeptics; but when used in 
moderation, it certainly has not this effect with the ma- 
jority of mankind. The substitution of orange marma- 
lade, though strongly recommended by certain manu- 
facturers, would be by no means desirable, as so 
powerful a bitter cannot be taken with advantage in 
large quantities. 

Some of the adages in which butter is concerned are 
very forcible — e. </., he looks as if butter would not 
melt in his mouth, and yet cheese would not choke 
him. The Germans say of a man confounded by an 
accusation, " Er besteht wie butter an der sonne" — t. e., 
He stands like butter in the sun. And the same 
frugal nation asserts, that the man who eats both 
butter and cheese at once with his bread ought to pos- 
sess two houses. 

Cheese. — Dr. Richard Pearson has given a good com- 
pendium of some of the chief points relating to cheese. 
" The quality of cheese varies according to the kind 
and quality of the milk from which it is prepared, ac- 
cording to the quantity of oil and whey which the coa- 
gulable matter retains (in other words, according to the 
different modes of separating and pressing the curds) ; 
and, lastly, according to its age. In general it is an 
aliment suited only to strong stomachs, and to such 
persons as use great and constant exercise. It is apt 
to occasion costiveness. In the higher orders of society 
it is used chiefly as a condiment. 

" Toasted cheese is not* easily digested by weak 
stomachs ; and for those who can be hurt by indiges- 

* OU/tn, « Materia Medic*,' vol i., part I, p. 351. 

tion, or heated by a heavy supper, it is a very improper 

" The countries most celebrated for cheese are Eng- 
land, Holland, Switzerland, and Italy. The best En? 
lish cheeses are the Cheshire, Gloucester, and Stilton ; 
the Italian cheese in most esteem is the Parmesan. 
Besides the Gruytrcs cheese, which is made in the can- 
ton of Friburg, the green Swiss cheese (called SchA- 
z ^o er )» which is made in the canton of Glaris,» much 
sought after. The last-mentioned cheese owes its 
flavour and colour to the herb melilot (Trifilitm 
mclilotus officinalis, Linn), which, after being dried, 
pounded, and sifted, is mixed with the curds from 
which the whey is previously expressed. This cheese 
is brought to table in a powdery state, and is generalh 
mixed with butter before it is eaten. It is reckoned 
stomachic *." 

Eggs are an agreeable, and, generally speaking, a 
wholesome food. Of course we mean fresh eggs; but 
it unfortunately happens that in London the immens 
demand for them cannot be supplied from the neigh- 
bourhood ; and we fear that eggs from France, Holland, 
or Scotland can hardly be recommended to an invalid* 
The railways will partly mend this. Eggs *w$ 
boiled or poached, pancakes and omelettes are all «* 
cellent forms of this aliment. It has often been said, 
half in joke and half in earnest, that there are 650 
ways of dressing eggs in the French kitchen, and that 
their cooks are daily in hopes of new discoveries. 
Those who have been taught to fear that every dj» 
among our neighbours is something in masquerade, 
will be glad to learn that plain boiled eggs make the J 
appearance at a French dinner-table. In a note wn'ca 
we have preserved of a dinner given to us by a Panuaa 
tradesman in 1831, we find tgg9 put down between tHe 
soup and the bouilli. It is often a matter of importance 
to preserve eggs for a length of time, and the authonues 
seem to run in favour of doing this by boiling th* D1,or 
one minute. 

Vegetables, i. e 
eaten with meat 


;. the culinary vegetables, connw 
at table, are of comparatively i**> 
introduction in this country. In his observations J 
the reign of Henry VIII. (which terminated in I»W 
Hume says, " It was not till the end of this reign ^ 
any salads, carrots, turnips, or other edible roots, 
produced in England. The little of these wgeuwj 
that was used, was formerly imported from no ^ 
and Flanders. Queen Catharine, when she wan ^ 
salad, was obliged to dispatch a messenger tmMC 
purpose." . y-g. 

Potatoes. This useful root has been known m *% 

it dj W* 1 

land for about 250 years, but was not extensv 

* ' A practical Synopsis of the Materia AUmri*** 
ria Medica*' 


Digitized by 





iill long after Us introduction. Professor Burnett says 
** Solatium tuberosum is the potato ; and although a 
plant of comparatively modern introduction into the 
old world, being a native of Peru, and unknown until 
some time after the discovery of America, it is now 
naturalized in every quarter of the globe, and has 
become a necessary of life in almost every civilized 
community. After the corns, our staple sustenance, 
perhaps no one plant is of more importance as an 
article of food than the potato. In the neighbourhood 
of Quito, whence the potato was first brought into 
Europe, it is called papas, which word was corrupted 
by the Spaniards, who originally received the plant, 
and made it into potades: but although the potato was 
brought to Spain in the early part of the sixteenth cen- 
tury, and travelled thence to Italy, it does not seem to 
have been known in England until 1586, on the return 
of S ; r Walter Raleigh from Virginia, who is believed 
to have been the first who brought it here. He is said 
to have distributed a number of tubers in Ireland, where 
they were planted and throve exceedingly, and that they 
were subsequently introduced into England from the 
sister island*." The potato mentioned in Shakspeare 
is a different thing altogether. 

Mr. Burnett, after observing that the Convolvulus 
bat at us has long been prized as a delicate vegetable, 
adds, "The batatus is the potato of Shakspeare's time ; 
and not only were its fleshy roots and young leaves and 
tender shoots then eaten as potherbs, but they were 
candied, and made into a variety of sweetmeats. Some 
of the ' kissing* comfits then in vogue are believed to have 
been made of this sweet potato, as well as of eryngot.*' 
The passage alluded to, "Let the sky rain potatoes," 
&c., is in the * Merry Wives of Windsor,' act v. scene v. 
It is remarkable that Linnaeus preferred the Jeru- 
salem artichoke te the potato, against which he had a 
botanical prejudice on account of its belonging to a 
poisonous genus (the Sola num.) The potato, however, 
when well boiled, is very wholesome; but in the watery 
state, in which it too often makes its appearance, is fit 
for no man. 

Peas are among the most delicate and most agree- 
able of vegetables, but must be enjoyed but sparingly 
by the dyspeptic. They are now to be had fresh in the 
market five or six months in the year, though it must 
be confessed that those of September and October are 
not equal to their predecessors in flavour. 

Attempts have often been made to preserve green 
peas for the winter, but with little success. Dr. 
Kitchener mentions this subject twice in his ' Cook's 
Oracle,' the first time with the polite good-humour of 
a giver of testimonials, the second time with the air of 
a disappointed feeder. The contrast between the two 
passages of the same book is curious : — 

" Mr. Appert has published his simple and unex- 
pensive process of preserving fresh both animal and 
vegetable foods, from the season of produce through 
the season of scarcity, in their full flavour and excel- 
lence, merely by applying heat in a due degree to the 
several substances, after having deprived them of all 
contact with the external air. There is not a mistress 
of a family who is rich enough to lay by a stock of 
these articles, and not too rich to despise economy, who 
will not be benefited by the perusal of Mr. Appert's 
book, 12mo., 1812J." 

" Green Pease [Note]. — These and all other fruits and 
vegetables, &c, by Mr. Appert's plan, it is said, may be 
preserved in full flavour for twelve months. (See Ap- 
pert's book, 12mo., 1812.) We have eaten of several 
specimens of preserved pease, which looked pretty 
enough, — but flavour they had none at all §." 
In Queen Elizabeth's time, peas were in general 

• 'Outlines of Botany,' p. 996. f Ibid - P- 1006 - 

} < Cook's Oracle,' p. 87, Fifth Edit § Ibid. p. 183. 

brought from Holland, which made Fuller say, they 
were "fit dainties for ladies, they came so far, and cost 
so dear." 

Beans are nutritious, but, like the preceding vege- 
table, must be taken but sparingly by valetudinarian 
stomachs. Perhaps this was the reason that Pytha- 
goras forbad their use to his disciples ; but many 
speculations have been adventured on the subject 
u Some persons affirm that he believed the bean to be 
the retreat of the soul after death ; and there were 
many superstitions formerly connected with this seed, 
which was by some nations consecrated to the gods. 
Others suppose that the prohibition was founded merely 
on sanatory principles, and that Pythagoras, like Hip- 
pocrates, conceived that beans were unwholesome, and 
weakened the eyesight. Even in the present day, it 
has been observed that mental alienations are more 
frequent during the blossoming of the bean than at 
other seasons: — a circumstance, however, explicable 
from the excessive summer heats which about that 
season usually occur, and not attributable to the bean, 
although its black* flowers were supposed by the sig- 
nature physicians to be a prophetic mourning for the 
maladies to ensue. Other commentators, however, and 
with more seeming probability, affirm, that when Py- 
thagoras said, * abstain from beans,' he merely iutended 
to restrict his disciples from intermeddling in political 
affairs ; for it is well known that votes were formerly 
given by beans: and vestiges of this practice, at least 
in words, remain with us to the present dayt. ,, 

The meal of the kidney-bean was formerly so much 
liked in certain parts of Scotland, that Cullen says, the 
farm-servants would not take a place unless their 
masters agreed to give them regularly a fixed quantity 
of it. 

Haricot beans are more used on the Continent than 
in England ; they are a good variety, and appear to 
have given a well-known dish its name, though now, at 
least, they do not generally form a part of it. 

Asparagus is said to have been introduced into ihis 
country about 1660. A pleasant story, touching its 
first appearance in some Scottish district, is told in the 
1 Library of Entertaining Knowledge.' A gentleman 
who had long lived in retirement sallied out into the 
next town one day, and saw asparagus at table for the 
first time in his life. Not knowing how to manage it, 
he ate the tough stalk, and left the tender shoot. This 
rather surprised his fellow-diners, but the gentleman, 
not liking to avow his ignorance, asserted that this was 
the part he preferred, and thus condemned himself for 
ever to eat asparagus at the wrong end. Asparagus 
is very wholesome as an article of diet ; and a syrup 
made from it has been employed medicinally in France 
in palpitation of the heart. 

Artichokes are the produce of the Cynara scolymus % 
" the parts eaten being the fleshy bases of the bracteae, 
or scales of the invotucrum, and the enlarged succulent 
common receptacle }.'' 

They are a pleasant vegetable, and their juice has 
been lately recommended as the thousand and first 
remedy against rheumatism. It does not seem likely 
to cut a great figure in this branch of service. 

Jerusalem artichokes owe their two names to two odd 
reasons. They are the tubers of the Helianthus tube- 
rosus, a kind of sun-flower; and Jerusalem is a cor- 
ruption of Gira sole (or Turnsole), its Italian najne. 
Walker, in his ' Pronouncing Dictionary,' has observed 
upon this tendency to change hard and strange words 
into familiar ones; the vulgarisms of sparrow-grass for 

* " The dark spot in the centre of the bean blossom is, perhaps, 
the nearest approach to black that occurs in any flower." 

The flower of the scarlet runner is so beautiful, that in the 
middle of the last century it was worn by ladies in their hair,— • 
a privilege which it has lost by its commonness. 

f Burnet's ' Outlines of Botany/ p. 662. % Burnett. 

Digitized by 





asparagus, and lambskinnel for lansquenet are examples 
of this ; to which we may add the Belliqucux, the name 
of a French ship, altered by our sailors into belly-cook*. 

The name of artichoke is due to its strong resemblance 
in taste to real artichokes. 

Oralis crenata. — The tubers of this plant are eaten 
in Columbia. It was introduced into this country 
about four years ago ; but we do not hear of it now. 

Salads are almost universally popular, but are unfor- 
tunately of not very easy digestion. A great distinction, 
however, is to be made among the various herbs which 
enter into salads ; cucumber being certainly the most in- 
digestible, and lettuce probably the most digestible of 
the class. Lettuce seems to owe its innocence to a 
small quantity of narcotic matter which it contains; a 
quantity which in some varieties (as the Lactuca virosa) 
is so considerable, as to make the plant uneatable, or 
indeed poisonous. Nothing can show the popularity 
of salads more than that so eminent a man as Evelyn 
wrote a treatise expressly upon them *. He enume- 
rates seventy-two herbs fit for this purpose. 

Dr. Kitchener recommends the use of boiled salad, 
which would, assuredly save many a supper-eater from 
unquiet nights and dismal dreams. His receipt is as 
follows : — 

" Boiled salad. This is best compounded of boiled 
or baked onions, (if Portugal the better,) some baked 
beet-root, cauliflower or brocoli, and boiled celery and 
French beans, or any of these articles, with the common 
salad dressing; added to this, to give it an enticing 
appearance, and to give some of the crispness and 
freshness so pleasant in salad, a small quantity of raw 
endive, or lettuce and chervil, or burnet, strewed on 
the topt." 

Evelyn, in his c Acetaria,' makes mention of an order 
of nuns called Feuillantines, who among other mortifi- 
cations endeavoured to live upon leaves of plants alone. 
This was carrying asceticism in eating farther even than 
the Trappists, as they eat rice, &c. The nuns, how- 
ever, were obliged to give it up ; as Evelyn says, 
" They were not able to go through that thin and 
meagre diet." 

Mushrooms are among vegetable, what mussels are 
among animal food — very suspicious beings indeed, 
whose passports should be most carefully examined, 
before they are suffered to enter the sanctuary of the 
stomach. In Great Britain, however, accidents with 
mushrooms are not so common as on the continent ; 
" because the epicure's catalogue of mushrooms in this 
country contains only three species, whose characters 
are too distinct to be mistaken by a person of ordinary 
skill ; while abroad a great variety of them have found 
their way to the table, many of which are not only 
liable to be confounded with poisonous species, but are 
even also themselves of doubtful quality J." The danger 
attending mushrooms of the wrong sort, in other words 
toadstools, has been long known. Seneca calls them 
voluptuous poison, lethal luxury, &c. Celsus tells us 
that if they have been boiled in oil, or with a twig of 
a pear-tree, they are harmless; and also that the ill 
effects may be prevented by eating horseradish in vine- 
gar and water, or in vinegar and salt §. We fear that 
these antidotes are worthless. 

The leathery texture of mushrooms, even of the 
right sort, makes them very indigestible, and when to 
this we add the noxious principle contained in the poi- 
sonous fungi, it is no wonder that even in those who 
recover from their effects, the bad symptoms last for 
several days. Mushroom ketchup seldom does harm, 
in spite of the carelessness with which it is prepared. 
Christ ison says that he has seen those who were gather- 

* Acetaria. A Discourse of Sailers. 1695. 

t Cook's Oracle, p. 296. Fifth Edit. 

{ Cbmtison on Poisons, p. 651. y Lib. v, 27. 1? 

ing mushrooms for ketchup near Edinburgh, pickup 
every fungus that came in their way. Such ketch>ip 
appears to be sometimes poisonous, but we do Dot read 
of its being absolutely fatal. 

Declivity of Riven. — A very slight declivity suffices to 
give the running motion to water. Three inches per mile, 
in a smooth* straight channel, gives a velocity of about three 
m iles an hour. The Ganges, which gathers the waters of the 
Himalaya Mountains, the loftiest in the world, is, at 1880 
miles from its mouth, only 800 feet above the lev