Skip to main content

Full text of "The Penny Magazine of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge"

See other formats

This is a digital copy of a book that was preserved for generations on library shelves before it was carefully scanned by Google as part of a project 
to make the world's books discoverable online. 

It has survived long enough for the copyright to expire and the book to enter the public domain. A public domain book is one that was never subject 
to copyright or whose legal copyright term has expired. Whether a book is in the public domain may vary country to country. Public domain books 
are our gateways to the past, representing a wealth of history, culture and knowledge that's often difficult to discover. 

Marks, notations and other marginalia present in the original volume will appear in this file - a reminder of this book's long journey from the 
publisher to a library and finally to you. 

Usage guidelines 

Google is proud to partner with libraries to digitize public domain materials and make them widely accessible. Public domain books belong to the 
public and we are merely their custodians. Nevertheless, this work is expensive, so in order to keep providing this resource, we have taken steps to 
prevent abuse by commercial parties, including placing technical restrictions on automated querying. 

We also ask that you: 

+ Make non- commercial use of the files We designed Google Book Search for use by individuals, and we request that you use these files for 
personal, non-commercial purposes. 

+ Refrain from automated querying Do not send automated queries of any sort to Google's system: If you are conducting research on machine 
translation, optical character recognition or other areas where access to a large amount of text is helpful, please contact us. We encourage the 
use of public domain materials for these purposes and may be able to help. 

+ Maintain attribution The Google "watermark" you see on each file is essential for informing people about this project and helping them find 
additional materials through Google Book Search. Please do not remove it. 

+ Keep it legal Whatever your use, remember that you are responsible for ensuring that what you are doing is legal. Do not assume that just 
because we believe a book is in the public domain for users in the United States, that the work is also in the public domain for users in other 
countries. Whether a book is still in copyright varies from country to country, and we can't offer guidance on whether any specific use of 
any specific book is allowed. Please do not assume that a book's appearance in Google Book Search means it can be used in any manner 
anywhere in the world. Copyright infringement liability can be quite severe. 

About Google Book Search 

Google's mission is to organize the world's information and to make it universally accessible and useful. Google Book Search helps readers 
discover the world's books while helping authors and publishers reach new audiences. You can search through the full text of this book on the web 

at http : //books . qooqle . com/| 

Digitized by 


u r . 3 


/ 41 

1 1 

( — 




Digitized by 


Digitized by 


Digitized by VjOOQ IC 

Digitized by 










Price 6». in Twelve Monthly Paris, and Is. Cd. bound in Cklh. 

Digitized by VjOOQIC 


-The Riffbt 

William Allen. R«q., K.R. mad R.A.S 

Chat. Ausell. Esq. 

Captain Beaufort, R.N., F.R. and R.A.S. 

George B irk beck, M.D. 

George Burrows, M.D. 

Peter Stafford Carey, Esq., A.M. 

John Cooelly, M.D. 

William Ceulson, Eiq. 

R. D. Craig, Egq. 

J. P. Davit, Esq., F.R.S. 

H. T. Dela Beche, Esq., P.R.8. 

The Right Hon. Lord Denman. 

S&muel Duckworth, Esq. 

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

Sir Henry Ellis. Prln. Lib. Brit. Mus. 

T. P. Ellis. Esq.. A.M., P.R.A.8. 

John RlllotRon, M.D.. F.R.S. 

George Brans, Esq., M.P. 

Thomas Falconer, Esq. 

r of the National Institute of France. 

I L. Goldsmld, Esq., F.R. and R.A.S. 

Francis Henry Golasmld, Esq 

B. Gomoerli, Esq., F.R. and R.A.S. 

J. T. Graves, Esq. A.M., F.RJB. 

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

M. D. Hill, Esq., Q.C. 

Rowland Hill, Esq., PJl.A.S. 

Right Hon. Sir J. C. Hobhoustr, Bart., M.P. 

Thos. Hodgkin. M.D. 

David Jardine, Esq., A.M. 

Henry B. Ker, Esq. 

Thomas Hctvett Key, Esq.. A.M. 

Sir Charles Lemon, Bart., M.P. 

George C. Lewis, Esq., A.M. 

Thomas Henry Lister, Esq* 

James Loch, Esq., M.P., P.O. 9. 

George Long, Esq., A.M. 

H. Maiden, Esq. A.M. 

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

Mr. Sergeaut Manning, 

R. I. Murchison, Esq.. F.R.S, F.G.8 

The Right Hon. Lord Nugent. 

W. S. O'Brien, Esq., M.P. 

The Right Hon. Sir Henry Parnell, lit . M.P. 

Richard Quain. Esq. 

P. M. Roget, M.D. Sec. R.S., F. R.A.S. 

Edward Romilly, Esq.. A.M. 

R. W. Rothmari, Esq., A.M. 

Sir Martin Archer Shee, P.R.A., F.Il.S 

The Right Hon. Earl Spencer. 

Sir George T. Staunton, Bert., M.P. 

John Taylor, Esq. F.R.S. 

A. T. Thomson, M.D. F.L.S. 

Thomas Vardon, Esq. 

J as. Walker, Esq., F.R.S., Pr. lust., Civ. Kng. 

H. Waymouth, Esq. 

Thos. Webster, Esq., A.M. 

J. Whishaw, Esq., A.M., K U.S. 

The Hon. John Wrottesiey, A.M., F.U.A.b. 

J A,. Yates, Esq., M.P. 

Alton, Staffordshire— Rer. J. P. Jones. 
Angleeea—ller. K. Williams. 

Rer. W. Johnson. 

Mr. Miller. 
Barnstaple. Bencraft, Esq. 

William Grlbble. Esq. 
Belfast— M. O. Drummond. 
Birmingham— Paul Moon James, Esq., Trea- 
SrMnorl— James Williams, Esq. 
Bristol— J.N.Sanders. Esq.. F.G.S. Chairman. 

J. Reynolds, Esq., Treasurer. 

J. B. Estlln, Esq., F.L.S., Secretary. 
Calcutta — James Young. Esq. 

C. H. Cameron. Esq. 
Cambridge— Rer. Professor Henslow, M.A., 
F.L.S. & G.S. 

Rev. Leonard Jenyne, M.A..F.L.8* 

Rev. John Lodge, M.A. 

Rev. Prof. Sedgwick, M.A., F.R.S. fc G.8. 
Cant ertiury— John Brent, Esq., Alderman. 

William Masters. Esq. 
Canton— Wm. Jardine. Esq., President. 

Robert Inglls, Esq., Treasurer. 

Rev. C. Bridgman, ) 

Rev. C. GuUlaff, > Secretaries. 

J. R. Morrison, Esq., J 
Cardigan— Rer. J. Blackwell, M.A. 
Carlisle— Thomas Barnes, M.D.. F.R.S. E. 
Carnarvon— R. A. Poole, Esq. 

William Roberts, Esq. 
Chester— Henry Potts, Esq. 
(;/HcAM/«r-John Forbes, M.D . F.R.S. 

C. C. Dendy. Esq. 
Vockermouth— Rev. J. Whitrldge. 
Corfu— John Crawford, Esq. 

Plato Petrldes 
Coventry— A rthur Gregery. Esq. 
Denbigh— Thomas Evan«. Esq. 
Derby— Joseph Sirutt, Esq. 

Edward Strntt. Esq.,.M.P. 


Devnnport and Stonenouse— John Cole, Esq. 

John 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. 

J. S. Traill, M.D. 
Btruna— J osiah Wedgwood, Esq. 
Exeter— J. Tyrrell, Esq. 

John Milford, Esq. {Coaver.) 
QlamorganeJtire— Dr. Malkln, Cowbrldge. 

W. Williams, Esq., Aberpergwm. 
Glasgow— K. Flnlay, Esq. 

Alexander McGrlgor, Esq* 

James Conper, Esq. 

A. J. D. D'Orsey. Esq. 
Guernsey— V. C. Lukis, Esq. 
Hull— J. C. Parker, Esq. 
Leamington Spa — Loudon, M.D. 
Leeds— J. Marshall, Esq. 
Lewes— J. W. Woollgar, Esq. 

Henry Browne. Esq. 
Liverpool Loc. At.—W. \V. Currie, Esq. C'A. 

J. Mulleneuz, Esq.,Tr«u«r*r. 

Rev. Wm. Shepherd, L.L.D. 
Maidenhead— R. Goolden, Esq., F.L.S. 
J/aub tone— Clement T. Smyth, Esq. 

John Case, Esq. 

«?. As.—G. 
M.P.. Ck. 

Manchester Loc. 

W. Wood. Esq., 

Sir Benjamin Heywood, Bt., Tresustrer. 

Sir George Philips, Bart., M.P. 

Benj. Gott, Esq. 
JUasham—Rer. George Waddingtpn, M.A. 
Merthyr Tydvil— Sir J. J. Guest. Bart, M.P. 
Minchinhamvton— John G. Ball, Esq. 
Monmouth— J. H. Moggridge, Esq. 
Near A— John Rowland, Esq. 
Newcastle— Rer. W. Turner. 

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

T. Cooke, Jun.. Esq. 

R. G. Kirkpatrick, Esq. 
Newport PagneU—i. Millar, Esq. 

Newtown % Montgomeryshire— W '. Pogh. Esq. 
Norwich — Richard Bacon, Esq. 

Wm. Forster, Esq. 
Orsett, Essex— C«>rbett. Ml). 
Oxford— Ch.Daubeny,MD.P.R.S.Pror.Cliciii. 

Rev. Badrn Powell. Sav. Pof. 

Rer. John Jordan, H.A. 
Peslh, Hungary — Count Szechenyl. 
Plymouth— H. Wool I com be, Esq., P.A.M.,(M. 

Wm. Snow Harris. Esq., F.R.S. 

E. Moore, M.L)., F.L.S. .Secretary. 

G. Wightwick, Esq. 

Dr. Traill. 
Presteign—Ru Hon. Sir H. Brydges, Bart 

A. W. Davis, M.D. 
Jtipon— Rev.H.P.Hamilton,M.A.,P.R.M.,G 8. 

Rev. P. Kwart. M.A. 
Ruthin— Rer. the Warden of 

Humphreys Jones, Esq. 
Rtjdc, 7. affright— Mr Rd. Simeon, Bt. 
Salisbury— Rer. J. Barfitt. 
Sheffield— J. H. Abrahams, Enq. 
Shepton Mallet— Q. F. Burroughs, Esq. 
Shrewsbury— R. A.SIaney, Esq., M.P. 
South Petherton— John Nlcholetts, Esq. 
St. Asaph — Rev. George Strong. 
Stockport — H. Marsland, Esq., Treasurer 

Henry Coppock, Esq, Secretary. 
Sydney, New S. Wales- W.M. Manning, Esq. 
Tavistock— Rer. W. Evans. 

John Rundle, Esq., M.P. 
Truro— Henry Sewell Stokes, Esq. 
Tunbridg* Welle— Yeats, M.D. 
VUoxeter— Robert Blurton. Esq. 
Virginia— Professor Tucker. 
Worcester— Chine. Hastings, M.D. 

C. H. Hebb, Esq. 
Wres-ham— Thomas Edgworlli, Esq. 

Major William Uoyri. 
Yarmouth— C. E. Rumbold, Esq. 

Dawson Turner, Esq. 
York— Rev. J. Kenrick, M.A. 

John Phillips, Esq., F.R.S , F.G.S. 

THOMAS COATKS, Esq., Secretary, No. 09, Lincoln's Inn Fields, 

I/wlon : Printed by William Clowki and Sws, Stamford Street, 

Digitized by 



Abe*diek, the ftsh-peoplo of, 369. 

Afgauns, itnuiements of the, U. 

Agriculture, British: Jan., 33; Feb., 
81 ; March, 121 ; April. 161 ; May. 
209; June. 24l>; July. 289; August, 
337; Sept.. 377; Oct, 425; Nor.. 
465; Dec, 601. 

Albino, on the. 234. 

Alexandria, -:60. 

Algeria. 29. 65. 

Ammou, Rabbah, or Philadelphia, 261. 

Amutemenu, effect of rational one* on 
the people, 480. 

Anchor, a ship's, the uses and manu- 
facture of. 319, 322. 

Animals, effects of vegetables on dif- 
ferent, 28; power of adaptation of 
habits in, 356. 

Ants, sagacity of, 64. 

Antwerp. 281. 

Apple-harvest in Normandy, 345. 

Arabs ; their mode of tracing footsteps, 
176: in Mesopotamia. 307. 

Asphalt urn. or bitumen. 485, 494. 

At-Meidan, the, and its pillars. 1, 

Australia, the natives of, 315. 

Avignon, 244. 

Baths, in factories. 219. 

Basin g-hoase. 257. 

Beethoven, 14. 

Beauty. 368; Beautiful, influence of 

the, 72. 
Beavers and Beaver-meadows in North 

America. 103. 
Bill of Rights, the. 388. 
Birds. Summer, migratory, journal of 

the arrival of, 128; motives to mi- 

gra|ion of, 336. 
Biscuits, ships', manufacture of, 130. 
Books, on lending, 176. 
Borneo, markets and currency in. 156. 
Borthwick Castle, Scotland. 477. 
Boseobel-house. Charles II. at, 193. 
Brazil, the gold-mines of. 441 ; man 

aioca-root of. 457; cultivation of 

coffee in, 484. 
Buffaloes, employment of, 160. 
Buk barest. 357. 
Borghley - house, Northamptonshire, 

237. 242. 
Bush-rope, the, 3. 

Calsnoab, Monthly: for Jan., 1840, 
8 ; Feb., 40 ; March. 88 ; April, 128 ; 
May, 168; Jane, 216; July. 256; 
August, 296; Sept., 344; Oct., 384; 
Nov, 432; Dec, 472. 

Canada, clearing land in, 140. 

Canal weigh lock, 115. 

Canova. 364. 

Carabre Castle, Cornwall, 285. 

Casper Hauser, 398, 406. 

Caatleacre Priory. Norfolk, 409. 

Char and Char-fishing, 158. 

Chemistry, domestic: — roasting, fry- 
ing, and broiling, 346 ; a candle, 354 ; 
soap. 415; a cup of tea, 419 j sugar, 
438; starch. 450; a quartern loaf, 482; 
substitutes for wheaten bread, 490. 

Cbertsey, Surrey. 397. 

China; sketches of the coasts from 
Sincapore to Pekin : — Si oca pore to 
Camboja.245; Camboja to Hainan, 
258; coasts and commerce of Quang- 
tong. 286. 303; coasts of Quang- 
tong and Fokien, 311 ; commerce of 
the Chinese, 317 ; the island of For- 
mosa, 326; the province of Che- 
kiang, 334; Shanghai to Pekin. 358. 

Chiva. 138. 

Climate, physical, circumstances deter- 
mining, 184. 

Coal-mines, employment of children in, 

Coat. a. history of. 330. 375. 386. 403. 

Coat-button, the history of a, 77. 

Coffee growers and drinkers, hints to, 
112; coffee shops in London, 488. 

Coins, Roman, moulds of. 15. 

Colonists, modern, 96. 

Commerce, advantages of. 240. 
CoraJ and Coral Fishery, on, 79. 
Cordova, the mosque at, 401. 
Corn and grain, improvement of, 136. 
Cora-mill, primitive, in California, 136. 

Cottages, thatching of, 93, 100. 
Cottagers, advice to, 104; garden ca- 
lendar for, 216 
Cotton gown, the history of a, 4, 20, 46. 
Cotton-manufacture, the, 408. 
Cowling Castle. Kent. 297. 
Creation, wonders of, 160. 

Daisies and dairying in America, 26. 

Damascus, 353. 

Dancing in the East, 113. 

Deer-hunting in the Highlands, 449. 

Delhi, the Observatory at. 217. 

Desert, the, road of Pilgrims through, 

niflBoulties may be overcome, 440. 

Dilemmas, 219. 

Discourse. 152. 304. 

Diseases, feigned, on, 367, 370. 

Dispatch, 243. 

Dogs, of the Tschuktschi. 264. 

Druid stones and Spa near Snap, West- 
moreland, 91; Draidical remains, 
301. 308. 316, 324. 

Bruses. the, 97. 106. 

Ducks, the eider, in Iceland, 284. 

Echo. 400. 

Editor's Address. 507. 

Education: — one of the remedies of 

economical evils, 412; popular, in 

Germany and England, 417. 
Elephant-hunting, 412. 
Elk. the North American, 239, 
Elwes, John, the miser, 49, 62, 66. 
Emigration, religious, 7. 
Epsom salts, 223. 
Esthonians, customs and superstitions 

among the, 437. 
Etienne, St. the abbey and church of, 

at Caen, 313. 
Factort mr stem, the influence of, upon 

the condition of women, 408. 
Farthings, Queen Aune's, 436. 
Fires, the prevention and extinction of, 

Flute, the, 170. 
Flowers, 200. 
Food, economy of, 476. 
Forests, on the Alps, 273; North 

American, edible productions of, 49a. 
France, antiquities of. 204. 
Frankfort- on -the Msine, 225. 
Friendship and patriotism, 92. 

Gambooi, on, 315. 

Genius, uncultivated, 80. 

Geography, proper objects of, 228; 

study of, 41/. 
Gibbon, agile, the, 361. 
Ginger, the culture and qualities of, 247. 
Guy's Cliff. Warwick, 443, 454. 

Hale, Sir Matthew, anecdote of, <83. 

Health, influence of the seasons on, 464. 

Heathenism, depopulating effects of, 32. 

Hesonry.the, 220. 

Hexham, Northumberland, 452. 

History. 476. 

Home-sickness, or the Mai -do-Pays, 447. 

Honey, nature and uses of, 31. 

Horses, American, anecdotes of, 19; 
sagacity of, 179. 

Horse Armoury in the Tower •• Norman 
crusader, 9; Edward I., 25; Henry 
VI.. 68.95; Edward IV., 105; Henry 
VII.. 141; Henry VIII.. 173. 180; 
Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk, 
and Edward Clinton, Earl of Lin- 
coln, 231 ; Edward VI., 241 ; Francis 
Hastings, Earl of Huntingdon, and 
Robert Dudley. Earl of Leicester, 282 ; 
Sir Henry Lee (1590). 309; Robert 
Devereux, Enrl of Essex, 349 ; James 
I., 405 ; Sir Horace Vcre (1606), 420 ; 
Henry, Prince of Wales fl612)j 
George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham 
(1618); Charles. Prince of Wales 
(1620), 462; Thomas Wentworth, 
Earl of Strafford (1635). and Charles 
1.(1640). 473; James II., 489. 

Indians, the Snake, camp of, 272. 
Industry, use of habits of, 444. 
Insane, the, effect of employment on, 

Instruction, ability required for, 360. 
Intercourse, personal and epistolary, 
means of, seventy years afo, 43. 

JoMixois, the abbey of, Normandy, 

Kid vet-beans and scarlet runners, 144. 
KiugVevil, the. royal touch for, 101. 
Knowledge, the handmaid to religion 
and virtue, 272. 

Labour, 56 : desultory and continuous, 
results of, 8 ; labour and capital. 4 12. 

Lace, and its manufactures. 186. 

Lagoon Islands of the Pacific Ocean, 

Lama caravan, the, 336 

Land slip near Ax mouth, Devon, 57. 

Land surveying, 453, 458, 4?9. 

Law and knowledge, 92. 

Lelth, 348. 

Lights, the Drammond and Bode, 132, 

Lillebonne, France, 108, 116. 

Literature, changes in, 483. 

Lyon, the cathedral of, 385. 

Maomksia, ou, 260. 

Man, simple elements of the agency of, 
72 ; variety of dispositions and occu- 
pations, 72; fondness of, for occupa- 
pations, 92. 

Management, 239. 

Maps, value and use of, 417* 

Manufactures, aid of nature in, 144; 
British, spread of, 424. 

Measures, of length and capacity, on, 

Mechanics' Institutes, exhibitions of, 

Mendicants, the religious, of Moham- 
medan countries, 153. 

Mendip Hills, Chedder Cliffs, &c, 6. 

Mexico, architecture in, 208. 

Money struck by Cardinal Wolsey, 396. 

Mont St. Michel, France, 145. 

Moonlight, effects of, on the eyes in 
Es stern countries, 444. 

Moscow : the Pokrovski cathedral, 393. 

Motion, communicated, the permanence 
of. 268. 

Mouse, harvest, the, 224. 

Mummy found in Auvergne, account of, 

Music and the muscular sense, 332. 

Musical instruments: lyre, lute, and 
guitar, 390. 394. 

Musquash, or Musk rat. the, 191. 

Names, proper, in England, on the use 

of, 118. 
Naras, the, a new fruit, 44. 
Naturalists walk, the, 347. 
Nettle, the ; why it stings, 456. 
Newcastle upon Tyne, improvements 

at, 99, 137, US. 157. 169. 177. 
Newspapers, English, on the reputed 

earliest printed, 17, 51. 
Nice, 233. 
North west Psssage, discovery of the, 


Omn ipotknce of the Creator, 144. 
Opium smuggling in China, 89. 
Orkney Islands, the, f34. 

Padua, the great hnll of, 481. 
Palestine, the deserts bordering on, 

and their inhabitants, 389. 
Pampas, thistles on the, 456. 
Paper-hangings, intellectual, 52. 
Past and Future, 136. 
Patriarchal customs, 919. 
Peas, mode of sticking, 64. 
Peasantry, the need of instruction 

smoag, 240. 
Petersburg, St, the markets of, 197. 
Peverel Castle, Derbyshire, 433. 
Pheasants, 413. 

Pilot-fish, the, anecdote of, 300. 
Plants, sleep of. 286. 
Ploughing in California, 140. 
Poetry, 412. 
Praise or censure, 32. 
Prints, Russian, popular, 56. 

Property, slave-like n lions on the in- 
stitution of, 64. 
Prosperity, false appearances of, 1L 
Public improvements, 497. 

Rebellion, the great, anecdote of, 407 
Recreation for the people, 203. 
Registration, importance of, 184. 
Religion, national, Russian travels in 

search of a, 410. 
Revenge. 328. 
Rhinoceros-hunt, the, 408. 
Rice, 15L 

Rich and poor, 196. 
Roads, motives for making, in Africa, 

144 ; in Shetland, 456. 
Romsey, Hants, 73. 
Rook, the, 44, 110. 
Roslin Castle, 265. 
Rossberg. Fall of the, 475. 
Rural districts, means of exciting skill 

in the useful arts in, 115. 
Rye-house, the, 185. 

Satthon, 109. 

Salt, manufacture of, in Scotland, 3-1. 

Sandwich Islanders, food of the. 234 i. 

Sanatorium, in the metropolis, 248. 

Savage life, 3; mistrustfulness in, 28. 

Scales and weights. 194, 206. 

ScarabsBtts, Egyptian, the, 480. 

Schools ; of design, foreign, 190 ; tend- 
ing in the United States, 279; pl..n 
by which children may convey in- 
struction at their homes, 284. 

Scriptural illustration, 480. 

Seeds, vitality of, 184. 

Sheep, in California, 3 ; African, 3. 

Sheerness dock-yard, 12. 

Siberia, life in, 218. 

Sickness, the sweating, of the 15th and 
16th centuries, 271. 

Silk-producing fish, 47- 

Sisters of Charity, the, 487. 

Smuggling. 229. 

Snow-storms, in mountain districts, 22. 

Speaking, rationale of, 150. 

Steam, 1 40 ; steam navigation, 305. 

Stimulants, external, 174, 178. 

Superstition and enthusiasm, 92. 

Surveying and allotting, difficulties ot. 
in North America, 298. 

Table, mahogany, history of a, 262. 

Tea; the Paraguay tree, 48; rnltiv.i 

tion of, in Assam, 59, 70: making of 

in China and Assam, 75. 
Tees and Tyne, the valleys of the, 198, 

Telegraphs, on communications by, CO 

Ternate, the island of, 445. 
Tierra del Fueao, the natives of, 152. 
Toledo, the cathedral of, 492. 
Towns, influence of, 248. 
Translations, bod, 248. 
Tristram Shandy, 300. 
Truth, 120. 

Tunis, manners at, 129. 
Turquoise, the, 188. 
Tuscany, agriculture of, 440. 
Tynemouth bar, Northumberland, 333. 

Vaccination, new Act for the exten- 
sion of, 400. 

Vine, the, soil proper for, 276 ; grow th 
of, in England, 280 ; method of treat- 
ing, 288. 

Vital principle, the, 156. 

Vittono Alfteri, 434. 

Walla cm a and Moldavia, 357, 366. 

Waltham Abbey. 201. 
War, effects of, 488. 

Whale, the. useful products of, 146, 154. 
Whittington's cat, 496. 
Winchester College and its Librniy, 

Wolves, habits of. 416. 
Words, the meaning of, importance of 

comprehending, 288. 

Zoolooical Soc'ety of Ixradon, 236. 

Digitized by 




Sheeruess Dockyard and Pier, 12 
Winchester College, 41. 
V iew of the I<and-*lip near Axmouth, 57. 
Plan of the Fame. 68. 
Romsey Abbey Church, Hants. 73. 
Irish Stone Cabin and Mud Cabin, 94. 
Newcustle-upou-Tyue — 
The Royal Arcane, 137. 
Interior of Green-Market, 148. 
Grainier-Street, 157. 
Grey-street, from Dean-street, 1G9. 
Grey street, 177. 
The live House. Hertfordshire. 185. 
Boscobel House, Shropshire, 193. 
^altham Abbey. 201. 
The Heronry on the River Findhorn, 

Morayshire, 220. 
Martello Towers, near Pevensey Bay. 

Sussex, 229. 
Bur^hley House, Northamptonshire, 

Basing House, after the Siege. 257. 
Kuinsof Koslin Castle and Chapel. 265. 
Fire-bell Gate, Barking. Essex, 269. 
Couvre feu — from " Antiquarian Reper- 

ton, * 270. 
Carnbre (^astss, Cornwall, 285. 
Cowling Castle, Kent— present state of 

the Gateway. 297. 
Abury, general view— restored, 301. 
Gronud-plan, Map, and bird's-eve 
view of the Druidical Temple, 
Druidical Circle. Jersey, 308. 
Cromlech at Plas Nevydd, Anglesey, 

Kit's Cot ty house, Kent. 317. 
A Salt pan ou the Forth. 321. 
Harold s Stones, Trelech, Monmouth- 

shins 324. 
Month of the Tyne, 333. 
Leith Harbour, 348. 
Cherlsev, from the North, 397. 
Custleacre Priory, Norfolk, 409. 
l'eterel Castle, Derbyshire, 433. 
Priory Church, Hexham, 453. 
Present remains of Borthwick Cattle, 

Scotland, 4</. 


Railway Terminus at Blackball, 

Camber well National Schools, 499. 
Auelphi Theatre. Strand. 499. 
Shop Front, Quadrant. Regent- 
street, 500. 
Horse Armoury in the Tower:— The 
Norman Crusader, 9 ; Edward I., 2 » ; 
Henry VI.. 68; Edward IV.. 105: 
HenrvVIL. 141; Henry VIII., 1J3, 
180; Edward VI.. 241 : James I. ,405; 
Sir Horace Vere. 421 ; Charles 1., 
473; James II.. 489. 



The At-Meidan and Its Pillars, Con 

stantinople, 1 . 
Costatina, in Algeria, 65. 
Macao. 89. 

New Zealand village, 94. 
Djoumi. the residence of Lady Hester 

Stanhope, in Syiia, 97. 
New Zealand Hut and Garden-fence, 

Castle of Lillcbonne, Normandy, 108. 
Remains of the Roman Amphitheatre 

at Lillebonne, 116. 
Tunis, 129. 
Mont St. Michel, La Manche, France, 

Hotel de Cliray, Paris, 204. 
The Observatory at Delhi. 217. 
The Cathedral of Frankfort-on-tbe- 

Mthie. 925. 
Nice, from the heights oa the road to 

Villafranche, 233. 
Avignon, and the .Old Bridge over the 

Rhone. 2*4. 
Ruins of the Mauso'enm at Amnion 

■ fRabbah. or Philadelphia), Sjria, 

Pent Alto, near Agordo. 873. 
Hotel de Ville, Autwerp, 281. 
Drtiidicl Circle at Dumb, Persia, 309. 
Druidical Stone at the same, 309. 
Abbey of St. Etienne (Stephen), Nor- 

maudy, 313. 
Moniunenial Pillars near Tartons in 

Syria, 325. 

Abbev of Jumioges, and Procession of 

the"" I.onp Vert/* 329. 
Dam a sen*, 3o3. 
Coiu of Damascus, 354. 
Biskharcftt Metropolitan Church and 

Bell. 357. 
Cauova's Monument to the Stuarts, in 

St. Peter's, Rome, 365. 
Monument to the Archduchess Maria 

Christina, by Canova, 368. 
The ( -athedralof Lyon, from the Rhone, 

Cathedral of the Virjrin Marv, or St. 

Basil, at Moscow. .'293. 
Interior of the Cathedral at Cordova, 

Island of Ternate,445. 
View of Alexandria, 461. 
Plan of Ancieut and Modern Alexan- 
dria, 469. 
The Palace of Jnst : ce, Herb-market, 

Ac, Padua, 481. 
Toledo Cathedral 499. 



Rice (Oryza), 152. 

The Musquash. 192. 

The Agile Gibbon, or Ungka Pnti. 361. 

The Teasle (Diptacmtfmllimmm), 384. 

Silver Pheasant, Golden Pheasant, and 

Reeve's Pheasant (Syrmaiicut Reeve 

im). Males. 413. 
The Highland Deer-hound in chase, 



Arab Family of Algeria, 29. 

Arab Dance and Costume— from De 
La horde's ' Syria,' 113. 

Agricultural Emblems of the Months— 
from Au^lo Saxon MSS.: — Januarv, 
33; Ploughing, &c, 36; February. 
81: March. 121; April. 161; May, 
209; June, 249; Julv, 289; August, 
337; Sept, 377; Oct.. 425; Nov. 
465; Dec, 501. 

Head of a Newspaper of the 17th 
Century, 17. 

Portrait of John Elwe<, 49. 

Pattern for Intellectual Paper-hang- 
injrs, 53. 

Oriental Gate, 53. 

Modern Egyptian Doorway. 53. 

Telegraphic Commuuicatious, 61. 

Process of Tea Making. 76. 

Suffolk Patent Drill, 82. 

Dibbling. 82. 

Thatcher in Normandy. 100. 

Hexngonal Biscuits, 131. 

Argund Lamp, 133. 

Drummond Light, 133. 

Parabolic Reflector, 134. 

Reale's Lamp, 144. 

Mohammedan Santon and D : scit>1es, 

Egyptian Playing on the Nay, 172. 

Lace Net, 188. 

Scales. 195 ; and Steelyard, 196. 

Fish Bark of St. Petersburg, 197. 

The first Fire-Engine, 277. 

The British Queen, Steam-Ship, 305. 

Anchors, 320. 

Apple Gathering in Normandy, 345. 

Fish Woman of Aberdeen, 369. 

Bullock Caravan in Moldavia, 372. 

Landing of VSilliam III. — From a pic- 
ture by Stothard, 389. 

The Ckanoon, 392. 

Plaver on the Ckanoon, 392. 

The 'Ood, 396. 

Egyptian Player on the 'Ood, 396. 

German Itinerant Map SelleT. 417. 

Illustrations of Electro Galvanic Mag- 
netism, 423, 424. 

Queen Anue's Farthings, complete set, 

Gold Washing in Braxil. 441. 

Preparing the Mandioca Root, 457. 

Diagrams illustrating Land Surveying, 

CorTee Plantation in Brazil, 484. 

Cotton-manufacture : — Picking Cotton, 
4; Willowing raachiue.4; First Draw- 
ine- frame, 5; Leipsic or Saxony 
Wheel, 20; Throstle Spinning A ppa- 
ratns, 21: Power-loom, 45; Shuttle 
of ditto, 45. 

Woollen-manufacture : — Wool -carding 
Engine, 376: Stubbing billy. SwJ; 
Shearing-machine, 404. 

Digitized by 




Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. 



[January 4, 1840. 


[From a C cr re tpon dcnt.') 

The At-Meidan, or antient race-course, of Constantinople, 
is an oblong space of ground of 500 paces long by 100 
broad, but tbat portion of it which is comprised within 
the paved causeways that surround it, and which, from 
the nature of the ground, seems to be the only part fit for 
such purposes, is only 240 paces long by 86 broad ; and 
this explanation will partly reconcile the statements of 
Wheeler and Hobhouse, the former of whom says it is 
550 paces by 120, and the latter 250 by 150. I, how- 
ever, measured it carefully within the causeways, and was 
followed by a Greek whose pace was the same as my own 
(27 inches), and we both made it 240 by 86, which in 
round numbers may be called 550 by 200 feet. On the 
one side of this open space stands the splendid mosque 
of Sultan Achmet, with its six tall slender minarets 
'peeping from the foliage surrounding the domes and 
walls ; on the opposite side, a gilded and gaudy hospital ; 
w/ule the two ends are covered with shabby and ruinous 
Vol. IX. 

buildings. Towards one of the ends stands the obelisk 
of Theodosius, the square pillar of Constantine Porphyro- 
genitus, and, midway between them, a fragment of the 
brazen column which is said to have supported the 
Delphic tripod. 

From each corner of the At-Meidan there are streets 
issuing, which lead to the different quarters of the city, 
and it is undoubtedly the best place in Constantinople 
for a public meeting of the people, consequently it has 
always been, in any popular tumult, the general rendezvous 
of the insurgents. Two trees are still to be seen, nearly 
opposite to the pillars, between which the headless body 
of Bairactar was suspended by the feet, on the 19th of 
November, 1808, during the tumult raised by the Janis- 
saries at the commencement of the late sultan's reign. 

The obelisk and the pedestal upon which it stands are 
two half monuments of an incongruous character, that 
chance seems, in one of her caprices, to have thrown to- 
gether. The obelisk is of the same form, size, and ap*. 


Digitized by 



[January 4, 

pearance as the one lately brought from Luxor, in Egypt, 
and erected at Paris, and, from the hieroglyphics with 
which it is covered, evidently does not belong to any 
country in Europe. It is formed of Theban marble, and 
is of a brownish red colour ; it stands upon a pedestal 
15 feet high, and is itself 75, making in all 90 feet. The 
breadth at the bottom of the obelisk is 7 feet, and below 
the level at the top 5 feet. The pedestal is the work of 
another people and another aera, and appears to have been 
the base of some other monumeut connected with the 
ancient sports of the place. It bears on one side, at the 
bottom, a Latin inscription, and on the opposite side a 
Greek one to the same import. The Latin one is as 
follows : — 





It seems probable from appearances, both of column 
and pedestal, that all Theodosius had to do in the affair 
was only to set up — not to bring there or form — the block 
bearing his name. The pedestal seems as if it was the 
base of a fountain : on one side there is a trough, cut 
perpendicular from top to bottom, evidently for the pur- 
pose of conveying water from some cistern which does 
not now exist near it. 

The base consists of a square block of marble, measur- 
ing llf feet on two sides, and 12 on the other two, and 
stands 3 feet above ground. On the centre of this, but 
still the same block, is a smaller square, of 6 feet on all 
sides, and 2 feet in height, having four blocks of red 
granite, one at each corner, of cube form, 2 feet on all 
sides, thus ;-*- 


t • 

: <l 


a- j 

[Perpendicular view of the ha§e. a, granite Mocks ; b t marble 







[Horizontal view of the top of the base, a, granite blocks ; 
b, marble block.] 

On the top of this stands another huge marble block, 
of a cube form, 8 feet in height, and sufficient in breadth 
and width to cover the under block, as well as the corners 
of granite. This has a plain capital, upon which is 
placed, about two feet from the margin of each corner, a 
cube block of brass, measuring 22 inches upon each side, 
eo stationed as to receive the four corners of the obelisk, 
leaving a space under it sufficient for any one to climb 
up, and, by getting under it, show his portrait out of 
each side. 

These two marble blocks are covered over with sculp- 
ture'in bas-relief, of the most exquisite kind. The base, 
besides the inscriptions on two sides, has, on the 
other, two representations of the races, on foot, on horse- 
back, and in chariots, as also a view of the obelisk itself 
lying on the race-ground. The upper block is filled 
with figures of umpires, judges, soldiers, musicians, and 
danciag-girls ; in feet, so much does every part of it refer 

to games and sports, that H seemi as if it must have 
been a fountain or monument, shading or supporting the 
place where sat the umpires of the race-course. 

Tournefort says there is upon the pedestal a repre- 
sentation of the machinery by which the obelisk was 
raised ; but his eyes must have deceived him, as there is 
not now the slightest vestige of such, nor any space from 
which it could have been broken off. Little, however, is 
actually known of either the column or its pedestal, but 
it merits the attention of the antiquarian, as it is the most 
perfect specimen of sculpture nowin Turkey, and superior 
to any bas-relief in the museums of France or England ; 
and yet it is perfectly exposed, and may be chipped 
with impunity by any one who is disposed to take the 
trouble, and I saw a Frank knock a piece off one of the 
figures with the iron end of his walking-stick, for no 
other reason but to try how hard it was. 

At the distance of a few yards from the obelisk stands 
a fragment of a brazen pillar, which exactly resembles a 
piece of an enormous ship's cable stuck upright in the 
ground. This column is said to have been brought from 
the temple of Delphi, where it supported the famous 
golden tripod, which the Greeks, after the battle of Platrea, 
found in the camp of Macedonius, and Mr. Hobhouse is 
of opinion thatGyllius has established its identity without" 
any doubt. Tournefort, who saw it in 1700-2, says that 
it stood " 15 feet high, formed by three serpents twining 
spirally round like a roll of tobacco; their contours 
diminish insensibly from the base, as far as the necks of 
the serpents, and their heads, spreading on the sides like 
a tripod, compose a kind of chapiter. Sultan Mourat is 
said to have broken away the head of one of them. The 
pillar was thrown down, and both the other heads car- 
ried away in 1700, after the peace of Carlowitz, and no 
one knows what has become of them;" but Gibbon, 
speaking of the conquest of Constantinople, on the 29th 
of May, 1454, by Mohammed II., says, " Iu the Hippo- 
drome, or At-Meidan, his eye was attracted by the twisted 
column of the three serpents; and as a trial of his 
strength he shattered, with his iron mace, or battle-axe, 
the under jaw of one of these monsters, which, in the 
eyes of the Turks, were the idols or talismans of the 

This story Gibbon gives on the authority of Thevenot,yet 
every traveller, remarks Mr. Hobhouse, from Gyllius to 
Wheeler, describes it as entire. Sandy* says it was " a co- 
lumn of wreathed brass, with three infolded serpents ex- 
tended in a triangle, looking several ways," Lady Montagu 
says, " the three serpents have their mouths gaping." 
Chishull says, " the heads were taken off privately by the 
servants of the Polish ambassador," and Hobhouse is of 
opinion that it is not known whether tho top or bottom 
be now inserted in the ground — but his opinion cannot be 
of much value, as he calls it seven feet high (this was 
about 1812), and in 1838, when I visited it, I found it 
12 feet 4 inches above ground, and tapering towards the 
top as Tournefort relates. It is hollow, filled with stones 
and earth, as can be seen from 6ome fissures in the side 
of it. The diameter at the base is about twenty-two 
inches, and fifteen at the top ; the folds of the serpent 
are about twelve inches each in diameter at the centre, 
of course smaller at the top and larger at the bottom, 
and it is matter of astonishment that it has not long ago 
been broken down and carried away for the sake of the 

Near to the brazen column stands the square pillar 
of Constantinus Porphyrogenitus, in apparently a totter- 
ing condition — -so much so, indeed, that it appears cer- 
tain to fall with the first breath of wind — yet it had the 
same appearance in the days of Tournefort, who pro- 
nounced it about to fall when he saw it. Its looks how- 
ever belie it, as a closer inspection shows it to be of most 
solid and massy masonry, each block of stone riveted to 
its neighbour with an iron rod. It has been robbed of 

Digitized by 




its coating of burnished brass plates, the square holes that 
attached them covering almost every marble from top to 
bottom. The base measures 10J feet in breadth and 
three in height from the ground ; the pillar itself is 8i 
feet in breadth, and about 120 feet high ; time and th e 
elements have robbed it of almost all its mortar, and t° 
this may be ascribed its tottering appearance, as th e 
stones at first look ready to tumble down for want of 
something to hold them together ; they are marble, granite* 
and soft stone, mixed indiscriminately, and in many of 
the chinks, half way up and near the top, the vine twig 
seems flourishing and green as in a vineyard. Tourne- 
fort, in describing it a century and a half ago, remarks, 
"The tip is fallen, and the rest cannot long hold to- 
gether " — yet the half of the tip is still there, and will, 
in all probability, still be there, when the palaces sur- 
rounding it on every side will be destroyed and for- 

Until lately, the At-Meidan was every Friday the scene 
of horse- racing, feats of strength, agility, &c. &c, but 
these have mostly fallen out of use — last Beiram morn- 
ing it was crowded however with sports and gambolers — 
but alas, the spirit of the olden time was not there, arid 
the exhibitors seemed more like warriors afraid o{ their 
own shadow, than the descendants of those who fought 
and won Thrace. 

Sheep in California. — The sheep in California, as well as 
in all the other parts of Spanish America, are of a bad breed, 
and their wool of the very coarsest quality : the whole seem 
to be exactly of the same kind. It is strange, that while in 
Spain the finest-woolled sheep in the World — the merinos — 
have so long existed, an inferior breed, producing the 
coarsest wool, should have been carried to their colonies. 
Perhaps the propagation of the merinos, like the grape, was 
discouraged or prohibited in the Americas, in order, as was 
the policy of the mother-country, to give the monopoly to 
the flocks of Estremadura, as well as to the vineyards of 
Catalonia. It is extraordinary, however, that some one 
should not have introduced into any of those vast countries 
a better breed, even in the time of the Spanish government ; 
and still more extraordinary, that since the revolutions, which 
have removed all obstacles, no amelioration of this breed 
has taken place. There are large flocks of sheep in Chili ; 
immense numbers on the table-lands of Mexico, which abun- 
dantly supply the capital with mutton ; and myriads scat- 
tered over the middle or southern republics, all of which, as 
well as those of California, are of the same breed, and their 
wool invariably exceedingly coarse. It might be thought 
that in the tropical climates the temperature and other cir- 
cumstances may have changed the quality of the fleeces ; 
but in Upper California the latitude nearly corresponds with 
that of Estremadura, and in some parts exactly so ; yet the 
quality of the wool is equally bad there as in the equatorial 
latitudes of Peru and Colombia. The British settlements of 
New Holland and Van Diemen's Land correspond with the 
latitudes of Chili and California. It is impossible to con- 
ceive a country more adapted to the breeding of sheep than 
Upper California ; and if a good kind were introduced by 
intelligent breeders, the benefit would be incalculable. — 
Ihrbess California. 

The Bush- Rope,— A vine, called by the wood-cutters the 
bash-rope, on account of its use in hauling out the heaviest 
timber, nas a singular appearance in the forests of Deme- 
rara. Sometimes you see it nearly as thick as a man's 
body, twisted like a cork-screw round the tallest trees, and 
rearing its head high above their tops. At other times three 
or four of them, like strands in a cable, join tree and tree, 
and branch and branch together. Others, descending from 
on high, take root as soon as their extremity touches the 
ground, and appear like shrouds and stays supporting the 
mainmast of a line-of-battle ship; while others, sending 
out parallel, oblique, horizontal, and perpendicular shoots, 
in all directions, put you in mind of what travellers call a 
mailed forest. Oftentimes a tree, above a hundred feet in 
Height, uprooted by the whirlwind, is stopped in its fall by 
these amazing cables of nature ; and hence it is that you 
account for the phenomenon of seeing trees, not only vege- 
tating, but sending forth vigorous shoots, though far from 

their perpendicular, and their trunks inclined to every de- 
gree from the meridian to the horizon. Their heads remain 
firmly supported by the bush-rope; many of their roots 
soon refix themselves in the earth, and frequently a strong 
shoot will sprout out perpendicularly from near the root of 
the inclined trunk, and in time become a fine tree. — IVa- 
terton's Wanderings in South America* 

African Sheep. — The African sheep generally are covered 
with fur or hair, instead of wool ; and when these skins are 
properly cleaned and dressed, and a number of them sewed 
together, they form a much warmer covering than could be 
made from any other materials. The boors, who are enabled 
by their immense flocks to select only such as have a smooth 
fur, obtain a handsome kombaars, or coverlet, so unlike 
what a European would imagine for sheep skins, that many 
persons would not even guess from what animal it was 
made. Those which I have brought to England have often 
been viewed as the skin of some unknown animal. Few 
furs can be more beautiful than the selected skins of lambs 
thus prepared ; and if prejudice did not stand in the way, 
I think they might supplant many which are seen in our 
furriers' shops. Such a branch of commerce might prove 
not unimportant to the colonists or to the colony in general; 
it might open a new source of profit, and turn to better ac- 
count those innumerable flocks, for the rearing of which the 
greater part of the Cape of Good Hope seems by nature 
peculiarly adapted. Since the Cape, it seems, is not so 
fortunate as to possess a climate and herbage, like New 
South Wales, suited for the growth of the finest wools, it 
may prove equally favoured in having such as to give to its 
sheep a soft and useful fur. — Travels in Southern Africa, 
by W. J. Burchell. 

Savage Life.— Owing to the late unsettled state of the 
country, the present is a time of great distress. Many 
hundreds of people are living in the bushes on roots, with- 
out any fixed habitation, and almost driven to desperation 
from extreme distress. In riding a few miles, Mr. Pain ton 
counted above three hundred people seeking roots for food : 
there are a great many eatable roots which will support life, 
but they are not very nutritious ; they cause the people's 
bodies to swell to an enormous size, and the striking con- 
trast between their emaciated limbs and swollen bodies is 
very painful to behold. In consequence of this scarcity of 
food, many men are driving from their kraals their least- 
valued wives, and the old and infirm, who cannot go far to 
seek roots, are left to starve. A great many people, espe- 
cially women, come every day, hoping " to be picked up." 
We do what we can for the most distressed objects, but our 
stock of food will require very good management, and some 
self-denial on the part of ourselves and people, in order to 
make it hold out until the harvest-time, which is yet six 
weeks or two months off. . • . Three weeks ago, Faku's 
sister-in-law died ; four persons were immediately tortured, 
and then beaten to death by sticks, for having caused her 
death by witchcraft. The charge was substantiated by the 
following evidence: "The poor creatures had been seen to 
wave their hands as they passed by the sick woman's kraal." 
Six weeks after a great captain died near the Umgazi ; six 
persons were tortured and then burnt to death, on the same 
charge, on similar evidence : the witch-doctors pretended to 
find a piece of wood called chaka buried in their kraal, 
which, as it rotted, would cause the deceased to rot away : 
they were accused also of having burnt a lizard in their 
garden, in order that the deceased might have no corn to 
eat, and so die of hunger. In addition, John Burton, my 
interpreter, informed me, M that on his return from Butter- 
worth (to which place he accompanied me when I went to 
the district meeting), he arrived in the evening at a kraal 
near the Bashee, and found the place in great confusion. 
On inquiring the cause, he learned, that food being scarce, 
the people had buried a child of seven years old alive, be- 
cause tney did not like to see it starve before their eyes : 
the grave being not very deep, and the soil light, the child 
struggled hard, and its crying was heard by the mother, 
whose feelings prompted her to dig the child up again : the 
people were holding a consultation as to the propriety of 
burying the child again. John Barton reasoned with them, 
gave up the little food he had, and the people promised to 
let the child )\y*.Steedman'9 Wanderings in South 

Digitized by LjC??(5QIC 


[January 4 

The habitual use of the things which surround us 
leads to two very opposite effects in different instances : 
in some, we become familiarly acquainted with almost 
every circumstance connected with them ; while in others, 
the very familiarity with them in their complete state 
makes us forget or neglect the steps by which they arrived 
at it. It is probable that the materials of clothing lie 
in the latter predicament. If we say that nineteen- 
twentieths of such materials have originally had the form 
of slender fibres, and have once possessed either animal 
or vegetable existence, we shall perhaps not be far from 
the truth ; and yet such a statement would excite surprise 
in many. Our cottons, calicos, broad-cloths, worsteds, 
velvets, merinos, silks, linens, and all the extensive va- 
rieties of each of them, are prepared from one or other 
of four substances, viz. : the short fibres contained in the 
seed-pod of the cotton plant; a glutinous fibre elaborated 
from the body of the silk-worm ; the woolly fibres which 
cover the back of a sheep ; and a sort of fibrous bark cover- 
ing the stem of the flax-plant. All these fibres, of which 
two kinds are procured from the animal and two from the 
vegetable kingdoms, are worked up by man into a fabric 
or extended substance, from which garments of every form 
and size can be made, and of a texture varying from that 
of a gauze veil to that of the thickest garment for rough 
weather. We will, on the present occasion, select one of 
these four classes of materials, viz., cotton, and endeavour 
to convey a general notion of the processes by which it 
acquires the forms so familiar to us. 

The reader, by referring to c Penny Magazine,' vol. i., 
p. 1 56, will find a description of the cotton-plant, and of 
the manner in which the cotton is gathered, partially 
cleaned, compressed, and packed in bags for shipment. 
We will take up the subject in continuation, and suppose 
the bales of cotton to be safely landed at Liverpool. As 
Manchester is the great seat of our cotton manufacture, 
Ln erpool, the nearest port to it, has become the principal 
place at which cotton is landed from foreign countries. 
From thence it is conveyed to Manchester on the railway 
connecting the two towns, and placed in the hands of the 
manufacturers. Of the extent to which this intertraffic 
is carried on, we may perhaps have something to say 

On opening the bale, then, the materials for our cotton 
gown are found to consist of whitish fibres, matted and 
clotted together in consequence of the severe pressure to 
which they have been subjected. But in order that the 
fibres may be united into one continuous thread or yarn, 
with which the weaver is afterwards to work, it is indis- 
pensable that they should be disentangled and straight- 
ened as much as possible. For this purpose the cotton is 
spread out, and subjected to a great variety of processes. 
In the first place, it must be sorted; for not only do 
cottons of different countries differ in quality, but that 
kind which is required to form the warp (or the long 
threads) of a piece of cloth is somewhat different from 
that selected for the weft (or cross- threads). 

When the cotton is sorted, a task usually performed by 
women and children, it is then disentangled and freed 
from seeds and impurities by one or more of several pro- 
cesses called cleaning, picking, scutching, willowing, 
blowing, &c, some employed in one factory, some in 
another. The finest cotton is generally opened and 
picked out by hand-labour of women and children. It 
is placed on a table covered with a kind of net or mesh- 
work, and, after being lightly beaten with slender rods, 
the knots and other impurities are removed by the fingers. 
This is called picking. Another method is by scutching, 
in which the cotton, after being spread out on an elastic 
table, is beaten by a series of parallel rods, by which the 
clotted fibres are disengaged, and the cotton seeds and 
other impurities fall through the open meshes of the elastic 
table. But the most general mode of effecting the first 

[Picking Cotton.] 

disentanglement and cleansing of the cotton is by a 
machine called the willow, represented in the annexed 
cut. A cylinder (seen separately in the lower part of 

[Willowing Machine.] 

the cut) has several teeth or spikes on its surface, and it 
revolves inside the machine in near communication with 
other spikes. A door is opened, and a boy puts in an 
armful of cotton, and closes the door again. The cotton 
is then thoroughly disentangled by being caught between 
the teeth during the rotation of the cylinder, and the seeds 
and impurities fall through a kind of sieve to the bottom 
of the machine. After it has been worked about for a 
few seconds, the boy opens the door, removes the cotton 
which has been disentangled and cleansed, and puts in a 
new supply. The inferior cotton wools arc at the present 
day frequently willowed by a remarkable machine, which 
feeds itself, or draws in the cotton from a sort of stage 
placed close to it, thoroughly disengages it during the 
passage down or through the machine, and finally dis- 
charges it in a fine fibrous state at the bottom. 

When the cotton has, by either of these modes, been 
disentangled and partially freed from impurities, it is 
subjected to the processes of batting and blowing, the 
object being to Joosen still more the fibres of cotton, and 
to carry oft' the remainder of the dust through sieves. 
The batting (or beating) is produced by flat bars, carried 
rapidly round, which strike with their faces against the 
cotton fibres ; while the blowing (or sifting) is effected by 
a sort of blowing-machine, or revolving fan, which re- 
moves the dust from the cotton. Where the very finest 
cotton (called sea-island cotton) is used, batting and 
blowing are often dispensed with. 

The reader must now bear in mind, that what has been 

Digitized by 




done to the cotton has disentangled and cleansed it, but 
not straightened the fibres ; to effect this is the object of 
the next process, called carding. We all know how 
easily and effectually the hair may be straightened by the 
use of a comb or a brush. Now however intricate the 
cotton-manufacturer's carding-engine may be in ap- 
pearance, its action is in reality midway between that of 
a comb and of a brush. A number of wires, formed 
and bent in a precisely similar manner, are inserted into 
a frame or. block at one end, and present their sharp 
points at the other. This forms a kind of wire-brush ; 
and upon being placed with the wires uppermost, a little 
cotton placed upon their points, and another similar 
wire-brush laid on the cotton, the movement in opposite 
directions of the two brushes will brush or comb out the 
the fibres of cotton, and lay them in a parallel and smooth 
form. This mode of action will be clearly understood 
from an inspection of the annexed little cut, which may 


be considered as representing a profile or section of the 
brushes. If some cotton be placed on the wires of the 
lower brush (ft), the upper brush (a) be laid upon it, and 
both brushes be moved in the direction of the arrows, it 
k easy to comprehend that the teeth or wires will straighten 
and make parallel the fibres of cotton. This operation 
is called carding, and the two brushes are termed cards. 
Originally the cards were, employed nearly in the form 
here represented ; but about seventv or eighty years ago, 
the cottou- manufacturers, particularly Mr. Peel (the 
grandfather of the present baronet), Mr. Hargreaves, and 
Mr. Arkwright, succeeded in fixing the cards to the 
surface of a cylinder, and to a concave surface applied 
close to it. By making the cylinder revolve continuously, 
the cotton, which is placed upon its teeth, becomes combed 
out or carded in a very complete manner. By subse- 
quent improvements made in those cylinder-cards, not 
only are the cotton fibres combed out straight, but they 
are at the same time collected together in a narrow fhittish 
roll, called a sliver. The fibres of this sliver have just 
coherent strength enough to hold together. It will then 
be understood that the operation of carding produces 
three different changes in the appearance of the cotton : 
the first is, to comb out and parallelise the fibres ; the 
second, to collect it into a sort of sheet so exquisitely fine 
as to have obtained for it from one writer the figura- 
tive title of "woven wind;" and the third, to collect it 
into a small narrow sliver, midway between a ribbon 
and a roll in appearance. The carding-engine of 
modern days, by which all this is effected, is an ex- 
ceedingly elaborate machine. The cards contain usually 
about twenty teeth to an inch in length. 

But delicate and beautiful as is the effect produced by 
the carding-engine, the fibres composing the slivers of 
cotton have still much to go through before they will 
be in a fit state for the spinners. In the first place, 
though the cards have straightened most of the fibres, 
they have had the effect of doubling some of them by 
catching them in the middle : these doublings must be 
rectified. Again, although the fibres are arranged 
tolerably parallel by the carding-engine, yet they are not 
sufficiently so for subsequent purposes. The sliver, like- 
wise, although delicate, contains too many fibres in thick- 
ness : one hundred feet of it contain nearly one pound of 
cotton. To remedy all these defects is the office of the 
drawing-frame, one of the most beautiful of Arkwright 's 
inventions. It straightens the doubled fibres ; it lays them 
as parallel to one another as possible ; it equalises the 

quality of the cotton, by uniting many slivers into one, 
so as mutually to correct each other's defects ; and lastly 
it draws out and elongates the spongy slivers or ribbons, 
so as to make them both narrower and thinner. All this 
is effected by drawing the sliver successively between 
three pairs of rollers, the two forming each pair being 
kept in close contact. The pairs are arranged side by 
side, so that after the sliver has passed between one 
pair, it is seized and forced through the second pair, and 
afterwards the third. Now if all these rollers revolved 
with equal velocity, the only effect produced on the cotton 
would be to flatten or stretch it out ; but if the second 
pair revolve faster than the first, and the third faster than 
the second, it occasions the cotton to be elongated or 
drawn out. The second pair of rollers have a tendency 
to catch the fibres faster than they are liberated from the 
first pair, and therefore elongate them to make up the 
deficiency ; the third pair act in like manner. And the 
very act of pulling or drawing the fibres in this way, also 
has the effect of straightening and laying them parallel. 
So important to the subsequent excellence of the woven 
cotton did Sir Richard 'Arkwright deem this process, that 
whenever any defective work was put out of hand, he 
used to impress on his workmen the injunction, " mind 
your drawings :" no good yarn could be spun unless the 
drawing of the slivers of cotton were properly performed. 
If one single sliver were attempted to be drawn until the 
suitable parallelism of its fibres were effected, the ribbon 
would soon become so excessively attenuated as to break ; 
this is one of the reasons why many slivers are united 
into one during the process of drawing. The annexed 
cut will sufficiently show the more important parts of the 

[Part of a First Drawing-Frame.] 

[In this ami the following cuts, those portions only of the ma- 
chine have been given which arc essential to the demonstration of 
the principles on which the several operations are performed, a, a, 
eight ' tubs' filled with ' ends' of cotton ; 6, b, six smooth wooden 
rollers covered with leather ; c, c, similar set of fluted iron rollers. 
Rollers 1 move two-thirds slower than 3 ; and 2, at an interme- 
diate rate. From this it results that the ' last end,' d t contains the 
substance ot 512 of the < ends' first drawn.] 

operation. Several slivers, passing from a row of cans or 
* tubs* in which they are deposited by the carding-engine, 
are caught between three pairs of rollers revolving with 
different velocities; they are then all united into one, 
brought into a small space by passing through a funnel, 
slightly compressed between a pair of rollers, and lastly 
received in a can. The operation of drawing is generally 
performed several times in succession. 

After the slivers of cotton have passed through the 

Digitized by 



[January 4, 

drawing-frame, they go through the operation of roving. 
The object of this is, to draw them out to a greater de- 
gree of thinness, and at the same time to impart to them 
a slight degree of twist, sufficient to enable them to be 
wound on small pieces of wood called bobbins; for in their 
parallel state they are too weak to allow of their being 
wound. This is performed by machines of various 
forms, called the revolving can-/ra?/if, the tube-roving 
frame y the bobbin and fly- frame , &a, some of which are 
very complicated. The cotton now obtains the name of 
roving y nnd some of the rovings are so fine, that one hun- 
dred feet of them will weigh but eighty grains : the texture 
being uniform in every part. 

We have thus traced the materials of our cotton gown 
through tho processes of sorting, picking, beating, card- 
ing, drawing, and roving. The next paper will introduce 
us to the labours of the spinner. 


The Mendip Hills form rather an extensive range of 
uplands, for mountains they can scarcely be called, in 
the north-east division of Somersetshire. The principal 
rnnge extends from the neighbourhoods of Banwell and 
Conipton Bishop towards the west, or from within six or 
eight miles of the Bristol Channel, to the vicinities of 
Crosscombe and Ashwick eastward, or, as some will 
have it, to a much greater extent, since the eastern ex- 
tremity does not appear ever to have been accurately 
defined, some of the uplands stretching away into Wilt- 
shire. The principal range, or that included within the 
limits here mentioned, varies from eight to four miles in 
breadth, while the length may be estimated at about 
twelve or fourteen miles. The elevation, though rarely 
exceeding six or seven hundred feet, is quite sufficient to 
produce a change of both soil and climate, and hence 
also a change in the productions of nature The mineral 
productions are various, among which may be enumerated 
lead, copper, and calamine, the last of which is worked 
to some extent, particularly in the neighbourhood of 

In most cases, except in the ravines that run up into 
the uplands, the ascent of the Mendip hills from the 
lowlands on either side is pretty abrupt, indeed in many 
cases particularly so. Except in a few situations, there 
is little wood on the sides of these hills, they being for 
the most part bare and covered with a poor and scanty 
herbage. The summits are partially enclosed and culti- 
vated, but in some places there are extensive tracts of 
unenclosed common lands. A few patches here and there 
are covered with heath, but for the most part short natu- 
ral grasses and mountain-mosses are the product of the 
uncultivated portion of the Mendip hills. The upland 
or hill farms, as they are called, are better calculated for 
grass than for grain, although many of the farmers of 
late years have turned their attention more to the raising 
of grain than formerly; but, owing to their elevated 
situation, in backward seasons the crops rarely get tho- 
roughly ripe before the early frosts come on. These hills 
afford middling pasture for sheep, and to this purpose 
unenclosed parts are mostly applied. 

From the top of the Mendip hills the views are various 
and extensive. Looking westward on a clear day, the 
whole intermediate country towards the Bristol Channel 
is embraced ; the Channel itself, from opposite Bristol as 
far westward as North Devon, with its islands (or holmes); 
and beyond that aestuary, the coast of South Wales, 
including a considerable extent of Monmouthshire and 
Glamorganshire, interspersed with cultivated fields, whi- 
tened cottages, and backed by mountains in the extreme 
distance, completes this splendid picture. Eastward the 
view is nearly as extensive, for it is only terminated by 
the hills bordering upon Dorsetshire and the western di- 
vision of Wiltshire. The city of Bath cannot be seen, 

from its low and peculiar situation ; but Wells is almost 
in the immediate foreground ; Shepton Mallet, somewhat 
more distant, and Frome more distant still, but lying 
within the confines of Somersetshire. Few districts of 
country present a more luxuriant aspect than the one 
under observation, since it embraces by far the richest 
district of the fertile county of Somerset. No great road 
crosses these hills, except the road from Wells to Bristol, 
and that is of a secondary class, so that few travellers, 
except those who go for the express purpose, have oppor- 
tunities of gazing upon the varied and splendid views 
afforded from the different summits of the Mendip hills. 

Thus far the general features of the Mendip hills have 
been discussed; but besides these, they possess other 
objects of attraction, amongst which are Chedder Cliffs, 
and the romantic and curious caves that have been disco- 
vered in several distinct sections of this hilly region. 
The little town of Chedder (which gives name to those 
cliffs) is situated close under the south-west brow of the 
Mendips, adjoining an extensive tract of level luxuriant 
meadows, and has long been noted for its cheese, sold in 
the markets under the popular name of Chedder chee.-e. 
Formerly Chedder was a market-town, but although it 
has a neat market-cross, and a fine old palish church 
with a beautiful tower, the market has fallen into disuse ; 
and all that Chedder is noted for at present are its cheese, 
its paper manufactures, and its cliffs, including its caves 
and springs of beautiful water. 

.* The town, which contains about two hundred houses, is 
situated very romantically : a portion of it is close to the 
mouth of the cleft or fissure in the side of the prominent 
hill where these famous cliffs commence. The chasm, 
which runs across the south-west or southerly ridge of 
hill, extends in a north-easterlv direction for more than a 
mile, being, however, exceedingly serpentine, when it 
slopes away in gentle declivities, one valley diverging to- 
wards the right hand and the other towards the left. 
Near the entrance into the passage through this chasm 
are several copious springs of pure water, which, almost 
immediately uniting, form a river of respectable size ; 
and, before it has run a course of more than a few hun- 
dred yards, it affords admirable water-power to five or 
six mills, three or four of which are paper-mills, and the 
others grist-mills. At one period a dozen mills were in 
operation at this place, the whole of them driven by this 
new-born but impetuous torrent. After the Chedder, for 
so this stream is named, has wound its way for a consi- 
derable distance through the adjoining level meadows, it 
falls into the river Axe. 

These cliffs probably have no parallel in the whole 
island of Great Britain. Immediately above the springs 
of water already spoken of, the noise of which, falling 
over ledges of rocks, tends greatly to increase the general 
excitement, the chasm becomes both narrow and exceed- 
ingly winding ; and although a road has been opened 
through this pass, and thence across the whole breadth of 
the Mendip range, the proximity of the walls of rock is 
in some places so close as to leave scarcely room for two 
wheel-carriages to pass each other. The rock is com- 
posed of varioun specie3 of limestone. In some places it 
is exceedingly hard and ponderous, and of a dark colour, 
containing iron to a considerable extent ; while in other 
situations a coarse species of marble presents itself, tra- 
versed with veins of dusky red and brown. Pursuing 
the winding road for some little distance, the cliffs rise on 
either hand in the most singular and picturesque forms, 
some of them being nearly 800 feet high, and terminating 
in craggy cones and pinnacles. Several of the rocks on 
the right hand are perpendicular, or nearly so, to the 
height of 400 feet, presenting to the astonished spectator 
the idea of stupendous walls and battlements of some 
vast castle or fortress. On the left the rocks are not quite 
so lofty, but some of them are equally grand, and, ic 
two instances in particular, they hang over the road ir» 

Digitized by 




threatening aspect ; while others appear separated from 
*he.main and solid body, and ready at every instant to 
desceud on the heads of those that nave the temerity to 
venture beneath them. In several instances the projec- 
tions of the rock on one side stand out, as it were, oppo- 
site to corresponding hollows on the other, thereby 
strongly indicating that this terrific gap was first formed 
by some extraordinary convulsion of the earth, the brow 
of the mountain having been riven asunder. In most 
instances, these cliffs, as will readily be imagined, are 
wholly inaccessible to the most adventurous schoolboy or 
prying antiquary. In some places, however, it is sin- 
gular to witness the face of these tall and apparently 
solid walls of rock, interspersed with here and there a 
hardy shrub, ivy, dwarf yews, and sundry other sorts of 
natural productions. 

Immense numbers of jackdaws are constantly flying 
about the middle and upper sections of the cliffs, for here 
it is that they build and breed in the most perfect security. 
Hawks too of different kinds make their aeries in these 
rocky fastnesses ; and the visitor to this sublime scenery 
may constantly witness them sailing on steady wing in 
mid air, in all the security of an uninhabited region. 

In the sides of the Chedder diffs there are several 
caverns, some of which are of considerable magnitude, 
and contain many curious stalactical productions, spars, 
crystallizations, &c. In the large chambers, into which 
two of the caves in particular expand, the scene, when 
lighted up, is grand and awfully sublime; while the 
echoes and reverberations, even of the human voice, are 
truly astonishing. Indeed it is very probable that a great 
number of caves exist in this rocky defile through the 
hills, many of which would be discovered were the 
rubbish and rocky fragments, the accumulations of ages, 
cleared away from the bottom of the various precipices. 
One of these caves has been explored to a distance ex- 
ceeding 300 yards, the general direction being north-east ; 
while another, but recently discovered, and at the very 
commencement of the rocks, has also been explored to a 
very considerable distance. 

Several small huts or cottages, perched against the 
wall of rock, allowing just sufficient space for the 
road to pass them, are seen at the entrance into the 
very gorge of this romantic chasm. These are inhabited 
by guides, or persons who are eager to undertake to con- 
duct strangers to the most remarkable parts of the caves, 
as well as to those other parts of the clifrs that are ac- 
counted the most worthy of attention. They also collect 
specimens of the various sorts of stone, &c, which they 
do not fad to exhibit to every one that visits the cliffs, at 
the same time offering them for sale, and, like guides to 
curiosities in general, often render themselves rather ob- 
trusively importunate. 

Since the road that traverses the foot of these cliffs is 
exceedingly winding, and since no two sections of the 
pass resemble each other, the view is consequently ever 
varying, so that the place affords an immense variety of 
views of a picture well deserving the attention of such 
as have a taste for the sublime beauties of nature. 

Nearly fifty years ago a cave was discovered on the 
opposite side of the Mendip hills to that on which the 
Chedder cliffs are situated. This cave is near the 
bottom of a deep dell that runs for a mile or two up 
into the mountain, and near to the village of Burrington, 
thirteen miles south-west of Bristol. In this cave many 
skeletons were found, some of which were of the human 
race, and in a tolerable state of preservation ; whilst 
others were the skeletons of animals that were not known 
ever to have existed in this island. Several were per- 
fectly imbedded in stone, some of which are now ex- 
hibited in the British Museum. About a mile west of 
the Burrington cave, and immediately under the brow 
of the Mcndips, a large and beautiful spring gushes forth, 
covering a bed of from twenty to thirty feet in width 

close to the well-head, and then gliding quietly away 
through the plain below, on its way to the Bristol 

The cave of Banwell, about a mile from that village, 
has been more visited since its discovery than either of 
those already spoken of. The opening to this cave is 
near the western extremity of an oval-shaped hill, and in 
the pleasure-grounds attached to a summer retreat be- 
longing to the bishop of Bath and Wells. There are, in 
fact, at present two caves, both of which are within the 
very precincts of this episcopal residence. The main 
cave is entered within a few yards of the bishop's 
rural residence (which is nothing more than a tasteful 
thatched cottage of moderate size, situated on one ex- 
tremity of a barren ridge, which money and good taste 
have converted into beautiful pleasure-grounds), and 
after several descents, windings, and openings into ex- 
tensive chambers, is terminated evidently not far from the 
opposite side of the hill. The other cave was discovered 
in attempting to open a new entrance into the larger one, 
in order that strangers coming to explore it might not 
intrude so immediately upon the privacy of the bishop's 
cottage, although the entrance even to this latter cave is in 
full view of the windows of the drawing-room, and not 
more than forty yards distant from them. In digging 
away the loose earth between two rocks that presented an 
opening in the proposed direction, when the workmen 
had excavated to the depth of twelve or fifteen feet, they 
discovered an immense quantity of bones, that had been 
deposited there, as has since been stated by geologists, 
before the time of the Flood. A considerable portion of 
these bones have belonged to deer," elk, and animals of 
this class ; but there are also the bones of wolves and 
bears, as well as those of the buffalo and elephant. Vast 
quantities of these bones have been taken away, a 
splendid collection remains in the hands of the proprietor 
of the cave, and yet there are large quantities remaining, 
walled up on all sides of the cave, and many more that 
yet remain mixed in the soil, that, it is presumed, has 
been washed into the lower part of the cavern, which a 
little more labour would recover from their resting-place 
of several thousand years. Except these bones, this latter 
cave presents nothing remarkable ; indeed it extends but 
a short way under the hill in the direction of the larger 
one ; for at the extremity of the den of bones a solid rock 
presented itself, so as completely to exclude the desired 
object of finding an easy communication with the prin- 
cipal cave by the route thus attempted to be opened. 


In the Tyrol, under the dominion of Austria, a number of 
families in Zillerthal had recently become converted to 
Lutheranism, and, agreeably to the constitution, had, in 
1826, applied to be relieved from attendance at Catholic 
churches, and to have a priest of their own persuasion al- 
lowed to attend them, (or several years this had been 
evaded, but in 1837 they received permission to expatriate 
themselves, and the king of Prussia agreed to receive and 
provide for them in his dominions, through the mediation 
of our late king William IV. The following is an interest- 
ing account of their arrival at their new settlement in 
Silesia, published in a translation by J. B. Saunders, of an 
account of them by Dr. Rheinwald, of Berlin : — 

"At the mountain village of Michelsdorf, in the circle of 
Landshut, the exiles first trod their new father-land. They 
received their first welcome on the 20th of September, 
1837, from the Protestant pastor Bellman, who was fol- 
lowed by the greater part of his flock. The train consisted 
of about a hundred and twenty persons. At its head ad- 
vanced the fathers and mothers, tall and well-proportioned 
figures, wearing the well-known Tyrolcse hat, and carrying 
umbrellas ; otherwise habited in the simple costume of 
their country. Among all, it was easy to perceive that their 
dress had been newly provided for the journey. Earnest 
and still the procession moved forward ; even the spectators, 
penetrated with sympathy, observed a deep silence: firm, 
tranquil resolution was expressed in the countenances of th* 

Digitized by 




[January 4, 1840. 

men, bumble resignation in those of the women. Tbese 
were followed by ten or twelve wagons carrying the aged 
and sick, women and children, as well as the most necessary 
articles of their moveable property. Then there came se- 
veral small two-wheeled cars, drawn by their owners, con- 
taining their books, &c. 

"About noon, on the twenty-third of September, the second 
train arrived, consisting of two hundred and eighteen per- 
sons, among whom was John Fleidl. They had traversed, 
in twenty-three days, about ninety German miles.* As 
during the last few days there had been an incessant rain, 
the travellers here halted some hours, in order to recruit 
themselves for the mountain-pass, and the remaining six 
miles of their journey. The countenances of all indicated 
the greatest exhaustion, and only the children were cheerful 
and joyous. Pastor Bellman stepped into the midst of the 
pilgrims, who, young and old, crowded round him with tears 
in their eyes, endeavouring to reach his hand and catch a 
glimpse of his countenance. Every eye was fixed upou 
him, glistening with emotions of joy and gratitude. One 
party that was encamped near the church having procured 
it to be opened, some of them entered: in silence they 
ranged themselves before the altar, when presently one of 
them perceived and drew the attention of his companions 
to a portrait of the king: with a general shout of the 
highest transport, they all rushed towards the picture, con- 
templating it with eyes beaming with tears of joy— it was, 
indeed, the likeness of one who, by his royal favour, had 
caused their gladness at that happy moment. 

44 On the evening of Saturday the 30th of September, the 
third division arrived, with six wagons and sixty-five per- 
sons. As the following day was to be the harvest festival, 
they were invited here to partake its rest. The overseers 
of the parish anxiously provided for their accommodation, 
and se\ eral of the Catholic householders also offered them 
a ready welcome. On the Sunday morning, they all ap- 

• A German mile is equal to four and a half English miles. 

peared in the church, whither they were conducted by the 
clergy ; they likewise attended the afternoon service, and all 
the other holy exercises. At two o'clock the next morning 
they passed through Hermsdorf, where the Protestant in- 
habitants prepared for them breakfast, on their way to 

44 A few days later a fourth division followed, consisting of 
three families and other individuals, about thirty in number, 
who had not before been able to dispose of their farms and 
cattle, the whole followed by a throng of foot-passengers. 
Pastor Bellman relates that in his conversations with the 
travellers, ' they expressed their thankfulness to God ; 
that, with the exception of some trifling ailments, they had 
all enjoyed perfect health ; and that, notwithstanding the 
great number of those who were aged and infirm, they had 
not, contrary to the predictions of some of their friends, 
lost a single individual on the journey. There were among 
them many families of whose members not one remained 
behind, yet not a few in which parents from children, chil- 
dren from parents, and brothers and sisters, had been parted. 
Their separation must, indeed, have been in the highest 
degree painful, and gladly would they have remained in 
their beloved fatherland, had not their ardent desire to be 
able to serve the Lord, in the liberty of their own convic- 
tions, overborne all other considerations.' " 

Results of Desultory and Continuous Labour. — The 
young natives of the interior of Australia usually carry a 
small wooden shovel, with one end of which they dig up 
different roots, and with the other break into the large ant- 
hills for the lanrse, which they eat: the work necessary to 
obtain a mouthful even of such indifferent food being thus 
really more than would be sufficient for the cultivation of 
the earth, according to the more provident arrangements of 
civilised men. — Three Expeditions into the Interior of 
Eastern Australia, by Major Mitchell. 


Day of 









1 W 





4 S 


5 Su 



7 To 


8 W 


9 Tu 


10 F 




12 Su 

13 M 


14 Tu 


15 W 




17 F 


18 S 


19 Su 

•20 M 


21 Tu 


22 W 


23 Tu 


•24 F 


25 S 


26 Su 


17 M 


28 Tu 


29 W 


30 Tu 


31 F 


Sunday* and 
Remarkable Days. 


2 Sunday after Christm 
Ep>ph. t Old Christ. Day 

Hilary Term begins. 
1 Sunday after Epiph. 
Cam. Lent Term beg. 
Oxford Lent Term beg. 

2 Sunday of! tr Epiph. 

Conversion of St. Pami. 
3 Sutulay after Epiph. 
D.of SuiKxbom 1773. 

King Charle* I. Martyr. 
Hilary Term euds. 


h. m. 

8 9 

8 9 

8 8 

8 8 

S 8 

8 8 

8 7 

7 59 
7 58 
7 57 
7 56 
7 54 
7 53 
7 52 
7 51 
7 49 
7 48 
7 47 
7 45 
7 44 

Eq. Time. 

Clock bet 

3 37 

4 5 

4 33 

5 1 

6 48 

8 27 
8 50 

10 16 

10 35 

10 54 

11 13 
11 30 

11 47 

12 3 
12 18 
12 33 
12 46 

12 59 

13 II 
13 23 
13 33 
13 43 

It. ra, 
3 59 



4 10 
4 12 

I 4 




18 6 

22 6 
25 6 


Ik m 

10 17 
10 29 
10 41 

10 54 

11 12 
11 34 


2 8 

3 32 

5 1 

6 28 

7 50 
9 7 

10 22 

11 35 


2 1 

3 14 

4 25 

5 30 

6 24 


h. m. 

1 19 

2 7 

3 8 

4 20 

5 39 

6 59 

8 19 

9 39 
10 59 


1 47 

3 16 

4 45 

6 8 

7 15 

8 3 
8 34 

8 55 

9 10 
9 23 
9 34 
9 45 
9 56 

10 9 
10 25 

10 46 

11 16 
11 58 


Barometer . Ins. 
Mean height 29*921 
Highest . 30*770 
Lowest . 28*890 

Mean dew-point 34*3 
Highest • 59 

Lowest • 10 

Mean dryness 1*8 

Menn greatest do, 

of day . 3*5 

Greatest dryness 19 

Mean temperature 36*1 
Highest . 52 

Lowest 11 

Mean great, of Sun 4 4 
Greatest power 12 
Mean cold of terrest. 3*5 
Greatest ditto 10 

— - . In* 
Mean qty. of rain 1*483 

Meanofevap. 0*413 
TabUtf the fFhuli. 

Dm Dew-P. 



5 2 Snn. alt. Ch. Isaiah 41 .Matt. 4 

6 Epiphany . „ 60.Lnke3 

19 1 Sun. aft. Ep. „ 44.Mat.lU 
192 „ „ 51 „ 17 

263 n „ 65 „ 23 


Jan. 5 Isaiah 43... Rom. 4 
* 6 „ 49... John 2tov.lS 
..12 H 46...Kom.lO 
..19 H 63... 1 Cut. 1 
., 26 ,. 56. . • „ 7 

New . . . 4th day. 9h. 20m. aft. 
First Quart. 12th duy, /h. 58m mu 
Full . . . 19th <)ay, Oh. 34m. mi>. 
Last Quart. 26th day. lb. 34m. alt 









27 -5 
23 -5i 

34 -5, 

44 32 

O *— O ** O *-* 


OO OO 00 OO V| v»=* 

OONSCi ©3 


•— © © © ©p* 
*. w 10 «— 


c» u» c* o» o> p* 
~U» <0tocoooB 


O O) O O) O) Op* 

cato »o — 

o» 00 ~ £>. oo*g 


0> 04 V4 «v| v* «s| 


V The Offioe.of the Society for the Diffusion of rseful Knowledge Is at 59. Lincoln'* Inn Fields, 
IMuted by William Clowis and Sows, SUsnibrd Street, 

Digitized by 




Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. 



[January 11, 1840. 

HORSE ARMOURY IN THE TOWER.— I. The Norman Crusader, 

J The Norman Crusader. J 

In a former volume of the * Penny Magazine ' (vol. v., 
pages 249 and 297) there appeared an account, historical 
and descriptive, of the Tower of London. To that we 
must refer for any information required with respect to 
the building itself; our present purpose is to describe 
the Armoury, and to point out the sources whence the 
interest which attaches to this portion of the building is 
derived. There are three apartments, in and adjoining 
the " White Tower," or keep, in the centre of the for- 
tress, devoted to the reception and conservation of arms 
and armour : one of these, called the " Small-arms Ar- 
moury," contains a large collection of arms of the present 
day, all carefully arranged and ready for immediate use ; 
the others, designated " The Horse Armoury " and 
" Queen Elizabeth's Armoury," are repositories of an 
extensive collection of ancient armour, weapons, and va- 
rious machines used in war. 

Considered as an exhibition, this portion of the Tower 
is perhaps the most Attractive of any within its walls, but 
few of its many visitors leave it with any other feelings 
than those of a vague sense of gratification experienced 
from the novelty and glitter of the exhibition. Yet it may 
Vol. IX. 

boast a deeper interest. To the historical student, who 
has traced in the chronicles of his country the progress 
of its society — who has made himself acquainted with 
the habits and manners of his ancestors — who has 
marked the struggles of religion, of learning, and of 
taste, in their attempts to humanize a barbarous age 
— who has mourned over the misery or joyed in the 
success of his country; — to him this collection will 
prove a source of the most deep and permanent interest. 
Each relic of a bygone age will serve to recal the times 
in which it Was manufactured, and its original owner 
will appear to the mind's eye as again wearing his ar- 
mour, or wielding the falchion that now hangs peacefully 
on the wall. Even should he be unknown, we clothe 
him with the attributes of the class in which we may 
imagine him to have moved, and, in an individual, fancy 
we behold the characteristics of a multitude. As this 
collection of armour has been arranged chronologically, 
and with great care, by Sir Samuel Rush Meyrick, 
the visitor is now enabled to trace, as it were by an in- 
dex, the history of chivalry, and the progress of improve- 
ment in the science of war ; and he will not allow the 


Digitized by 




[January. 11. 

historical reminiscences thus conjured up by the influ- 
ence of association to depart from his mind, without 
dwelling on their relative advantages or disadvantages, or 
without attempting an estimate of their effect on the well* 
being of society and the happiness of mankind. 

The " Horse Armoury," the more imposing portion of 
the collection, is contained in a gallery erected along the 
south side of the White Tower. The interior of this 
gallery is 149 feet in length and 33 in width. It is 
divided into two unequal parts or walks, the equestrian 
figures occupying the centre. In front of the eques- 
trian figures are others representing men-at-arms, bow- 
men, pikemen, &c, the remainder of the contents 
being weapons and portions of armour of different ages, 
but principally of the fifteenth, sixteenth, and seventeenth 

Now let us direct our attention to the first figure in 
this collection, the Norman warrior, whose dress of chain 
mail, composed of minute iron rings joined together in 
the manner of network, is the oldest suit of armour in 
the collection. It is supposed to have belonged to one of 
the earliest crusaders, and to be upwards Of 700 years 
old. Could it relate its adventures, what a varied tale 
would it unfold ! A diary of the first ten years of its ex- 
istence were alone worth a Jew's ransom ! But since the 
reign of fairies has ceased, and inanimate objects no longer 
hold converse with mortals, we must give up all expecta- 
tion of such a revelation. Yet our thoughts revert to the 
times when it first saw service : its gallant wearer rises to 
our eyes ; and although we know nothing of his history, 
yet, presuming him to have belonged to that numerous 
class of adventurers, or errant-knights, which the pages 
of romance have rendered as familiar to us moderns as a 
troop of our own horse-guards, we may in imagination 
trace his dubious career in camp and field, and follow his 
wanderings from country to country; now gay and 
joyous in some baronial hall, or, faint and worn with 
toil, seeking a poor refreshment in some rude hostelry ; 
now prancing gaily along, surrounded by a score of loud 
and hearty comrades ; now wearily pacing his solitary 
path through some unfrequented waste. 

At the close of the eleventh century, to which the chain 
armour now before us may be referred, most European 
countries, although nominally monarchical, may be said 
to have consisted of a multitude of states presided over 
by princes who ruled them despotically, and who ac> 
knowledged little more than the titular superiority of 
their sovereign, and his right to require their military 

In such a state, at this period of its history, was Eng- 
land. The Norman nobles had possessed themselves of 
the castles and estates of the Anglo-Saxons, and had 
each created aronnd him a little principality in which his 
will was supreme, and over which the constitutional laws 
of the kingdom had little authority. 

These petty sovereigns, the "barons of England," 
having acquired their property by the sword, and being 
united to one another only so far as each required the 
others' assistance against combined attacks of a common 
enemy, were intent upon strengthening their resources, 
and were not scrupulous by what means their own power 
was increased, or that of those whom they feared re- 
duced. Thus, respecting no laws but those of force, 
they depended on the sword, which had achieved their 
greatness, for the preservation of their power, and their 
own jealousies were sufficient to keep that sword in 
constant requisition. As each baron increased his power, 
he looked with an envious eye on the acquisitions of his 
neighbours, till he found means to join their possessions 
to his own ; and the licence which the violence of the 
times had occasioned was such, that the murders and 
midnight onslaughts by which property was wrested 

• Sco 'Peimy Magazine,' vol v., p. 254. 

from or secured to its possessors, were scarcely noticed by 
any with more regard than as a passing storm, which 
roars for a time, subsides, and is forgotten by all but those 
injured by its severity. The Anglo-Saxon nobles who 
would not submit their allegiance to the Conqueror were 
deprived of their estates, and, as they lived perpetually 
in fear of having their lives sacrificed to the rage of their 
unprincipled oppressors, they were obliged to hide them- 
selves in the depths of the extensive forests which at that 
time overspread the greater portion of England, and were 
compelled from necessity to adopt the marauding habits 
which the Normans practised from disposition. 

Hence the peace of the whole kingdom was disturbed 
by the broils of the two races, and if the Normans made 
themselves terrible by the enormity of their crimes, their 
despotic conduct, and the horrible punishments they were 
in the habit of inflicting on those who displeased them, 
their habits only heightened the rancour in which they 
were held by the Anglo-Saxons, who thus became more 
implacable in their resentments and more determined to 
resist the sway of the^Normans. 

Those who were content to accept of feudal offices 
under the proud barons by whom they were thus tyran- 
nically treated, or who bound themselves to support 
their oppressors in their warlike engagements, might 
obtain in their protection a temporary security from the 
violence of other parties ; but it was gained at the ex- 
pense of that liberty and independence which our old 
race, whether called by the name of Saxons or English- 
men, has ever prized, and might on the least pretext 
be withdrawn, and the unfortunate Saxon exposed, 
without means of defence, to the tyranny of his op- 

William the Conqueror successfully endeavoured to 
repress the lawless outrages of his nobles; but in the 
licence which Rufus afforded them, the long pent-up de- 
sires of the Normans burst forth, and in the time ot 
Stephen, to which time we refer, they raged with uncon- 
trollable fury. 

Almost the only check on the violence of the Norman 
barons was then vested in those knights-errant who, wan- 
dering about in search of adventures, always avowed 
themselves willing to aid the oppressed, sometimes only 
for the pleasure of the action, sometimes for the emolu- 
ments consequent upon success. In those ages knights 
were the only part of the military who were completely 
armed, and being the only disciplined and effective sol- 
diery of the day, were held of such importance, that 
they were invited by kings to their courts with profuse 
liberality. It cannot be denied, that when the govern- 
ment was weak and when there was no police, the insti- 
tution or practice of knight-errantry was of great import- 
ance; and whether the motives of the knights were 
honours and renown, wealth, or the satisfaction of redress- 
ing the grievances of the oppressed, the utility of the 
practice might be proved from many instances. 

But it is destructive of our ideas of the romance of 
knight-errantry to know that these warriors were some- 
times to be found oppressing instead of aiding the op- 
pressed ; being engaged often to defend the possessions 
gained by some rapacious baron, or to assist him in the 
acquirement of others. Thus, in the reign of John, one 
of these powerful depredators, as perfect a caitiff as the 
imagination of a romance writer ever portrayed, who was 
accustomed to boast that he had assisted to burn above a 
score of monks in their church, and who, anointing his 
captives with honey, exposed them naked under a burn- 
ing sun for insects to torment, is noticed by the historian 
of Malmsbury as having seized a castle and sent for 
knights from Flanders to defend it. Before, however, 
they arrived, a knight more gentle came to the relief of 
the district, attacked the baron's castle, and put it out of 
the power of the baron himself to do any further mis- 
chief, by hanging him at his own gate. 

Digitized by 





To return to the subject which introduced these re- 
marks, we would fain imagine the owner of this coat of 
mail to have been a knight who regarded his vows to aid 
the oppressed, the orphan, the widow, and the unprotected; 
lie is called, in the * Catalogue of the Armoury,' a Norman 
crusader, and we might hope that his visit to Palestine, 
the hallowed scene of those events held so dear to the 

f>rofcs«ors of his faith, would have elevated his mind to a 
iigh standard of virtue, and rendered his actions corre- 
spondent to the vows he made when he assumed his 
spurs. But it has been said that of all wars the " holy 
•wars" were the most " unholy," and many of those who 
returned from them did so with their minds and habits 
tainted with the voluptuous vices and despotic bearing of 
the inhabitants of the East. To those who have viewed 
the events of these times only through the medium of 
novels and romances, a peep at the reality, as exhibited in 
the pages of history, will unfold a very different, though 
not perhaps altogether an unexpected prospect. 

Let us take off the iron coat of the knight whom we 
have pictured to ourselves as having taken a part in the 
violent actions of the times we have been describing, and 
let us view him, divested of the lustre of his deeds of 
arms, in his domestic relations, and witness his conduct 
in the ordinary affairs of life. Although it must be al- 
lowed that the Normans were more advanced in civiliza- 
tion and were more refined in their habits than the 
Saxons, whose rude manners they looked upon with con- 
tempt, they were still wanting in many of those higher 
qualities of mind, without which the moat polite manners 
and punctilious ceremonials fail in their intended effect. 
They certainly, when they assumed their rank of knight- 
hood, vowed to be governed only by the most pure and 
honourable principles, yet how frequently do we meet 
with instances in which their conduct is exhibited in the 
most censurable aspect : cruel without remorse, oppress- 
ing without cause, destroying without necessity, invading 
the rights of others, mixing in all the vices of the times, 
and yet amid all their errors laying claim to honourable 
motives, which, as it would be death to dispute, were 
seldom impugned. 

The knights-errant of those times, as they had not the 
mercenary motives of those barons who, confining them- 
selves to their homes, were intent only upon augmenting 
their power and estates by any means within their reach, 
had not such powerful inducements to disturb the purity 
of their vows, and were consequently more deserving of 
the esteem in which they would fain be held. Yet even 
they were sometimes found wanting ; and when we con- 
aider their want of education, their imperfect knowledge 
of good and evil, and the tempestuous scenes in which 
they were engaged, we cannot think it extraordinary that 
they should somewhat deviate from the strict path of 
morality and virtue* 

We have placed, in our imagination, the Norman 
warrior, who has given rise to these reflections, in this 
class ; and, viewing him as such, we may form some idea 
of his wants ae well as his acquirements. He could 
neither read nor write ; had but a slender acquaintance 
with the moat common elements of knowledge ; was as 
much under the influence of popular superstitions as the 
despised Saxons ; had but a very imperfect idea even of 
the religion for which he was ready to lay down his life 
or submit to the severest punishment ; and although he 
could pity the sufferings of the poor and friendless, yet 
for a few empty words of praise, for the most worldly 
and fleeting distinctions, he would exert his whole soul 
to be among the first of those who should reduce others 
to the same state as that for which he had himself felt so 
much distress. 

For his domestic life, he could live upon the most 
common food, and, although he affected the greatest deli- 
cacies, was frugal in his diet, and shunned the besetting 
yices of the Saxons, gluttony and drunkenness ; be would 

laugh at the dress and rude habits of the Saxons, yet him- 
self, with all his assumption of elegance, had no idea of a 
fork at his meals, cutting off his portion of meat from the 
spit as it was handed round to the company : he rose 
early, dined some hours afterwards, made a good supper 
(as it was then called, though in fact the meal which 
we now call dinner) at about five or six, and retired to 
bed shortly after sunset (unless when the pursuits of his 
uncertain life required him to postpone the hour of re- 
pose), his cloak, or a few rushes strewn on the floor or on 
a wooden bench, serving him for a bed. 

We might greatly extend this sketch, did we not feel 
that it is time we passed on to other objects in the 
Armoury as much deserving our attention and perhaps of 
more importance. 

Amusements of the Afghauns.—tiLo&X of their games, says 
Mountstuart Elphinstone, in hi* ' Account of Caubul,' ap- 
pear to us very childish, and can scarcely be reconciled to 
their long beards and grave behaviour. Marbles are played 
by grown up men through all the Afghaun country and 
Persia. A game very generally played is one called 
Khossye by the Dooraunees, and Cubuddee by the Taujiks. 
A man takes his left foot in his right hand, and hops about 
on one leg, endeavouring to overset bis adversary, who ad- 
vances the same way ; this is played by several of a side, 
and is more complicated than I have made it, but still a 
strange game for grown up men. Prisoner's base, quoits 
(played with circular flat stones), and a game like hunt the 
slipper (played with a cap), are also very common, as are 
wrestling, and other trials of strength and skill. 

False Appearances qf Prosperity,'— But if we should look 
under the skirt of the prosperous and prevailing tyrant, we 
should find, even in the days of his joys, such allays and 
abatements of his pleasure, as may serve to represent bim 

Presently miserable, besides his final infelicities. For I 
ave seen a young and healthful person warm and ruddy 
under a poor and a thin garment, when at the same time 
an old rich person hath been cold and paralytic under a 
load of sables and the skins of foxes. It is the body that 
makes the clothes warm, not the clothes the body ; and the 
spirit of a man makes felicity and content, not any spoils of 
a rich fortune wrapped about a sickly and an uneasy soul. 
A polio dor us was a traitor and a tyrant, and the world won- 
dered to see a bad man have so good a fortune, but knew 
not that he nourished scorpions in his breast, and that his 
liver and his heart were eaten up with spectres and images 
of death ; his thoughts were mil of interruptions, his dreams 
of illusions ; his fancy was abused with real troubles and 
fantastic images, imagining that he saw the Scythians flay- 
ing him alive, his daughters like pillars of fire dancing 
round about a cauldron, in which himself was boiling, and 
that 4iis heart accused itself to be the cause of all these 
evils. And although all tyrants have not imaginative and 
fantastic consciences, yet all tyrants shall die and come to 
judgment; and such a man is not to be feared, not at all to 
be envied. And, in the mean time, can he be said to escape 
who hath an unquiet conscience, who is already designed 
for hell—he whom God hates, and the people curse, and 
who hath an evil name, and against whom all good men 
pray, and many desire to fight, and all wish him destroyed, 
ana some contrive to do it? Is this man a blessed man? 
Is that man prosperous who hath stolen a rich robe, and is 
in fear to have his throat cut for it, and is fain to defend it 
with the greatest difficulty and the greatest danger ? Does 
not he drink more sweetly that takes his beverage in an 
earthen vessel, than he that looks and searches into his 
golden chalices for fear of poison, and looks pale at every 
sudden noise, and sleeps in armour, and trusts nobody, and 
does not trust God for his safety, but does greater wicked- 
ness only to escape awhile unpunished for his former 
crimes? Auro bibitur venerium. No man goes about to 
poison a poor man*s pitcher, nor lays plots to forage his 
little garden, made for the hospital of two bee-hives and 
the feasting of a few Pythagorean herb-eaters.— Jeremy 


Digitized by 




[Januak* 11* 


I Sheerness Dockyard, and First-rate Man-of-War lying off the Pier.] 

In the early period of British Naval History our kings 
had neither arsenals nor dockyards, and their only per- 
manent naval force consisted of a small number of vessels 
which the Cinque Ports were bound by their charters to 
furnish to the crown at forty days' notice. When the 
number of these was insufficient for carrying on the war, 
other Bhips were hired from merchants at home, or from 
those of Dantzic, Hamburgh, Lubeck, Genoa, and other 
ports ; and private adventurers also fitted out vessels at 
their own cost, and scoured the seas in search of prizes 
from the enemy. In the reijrn of Henry VIII. the 
Admiralty and a Navy Board were established, and the 
dockyards at Deptford, Woolwich, and Portsmouth were 
formed. In the reign of Edward VI. various important 
regulations were made for the civil government of the 
navy, which have formed the basis of all subsequent in- 
structions to the officers to whose management its affairs 
have been committed. The chief officers appointed at the 
above period were, a Vice- Admiral of England, the Master 
of the Ordnance, the Surveyor of the Marine Causes, and 
several others, who were directed to meet weekly at their 
office on Tower-hill to consult together for the good order 
of the navy, and to report their proceedings once a month 
to the Lord High Admiral. The ships belonging to the 
crown, or provided by the civil department, formed only a 
part of the naval force employed in war down to the end 
of the seventeenth century. In the fleet which defeated 
the Spanish Armada there were 1 76 ships, with 14,992 

men, and only 34 ships and 6225 men belonged to what 
properly constitutes a royal navy. It is, however, un 
necessary to proceed further with this sketch.* 

The dockyard at Sheerness, on the Isle of Sheppy, at 
the entrance of the"Medway, was formed in the reign of 
Charles II. At first a fort was built to -defend the 
entrance of the Medway, and in 1667 the works were 
strengthened. We were at this time at war with our great 
naval and commercial rivals the Dutch, and early in June 
they boldly entered the Thames, destroyed the fortifica- 
tions erected at Sheerness, and sailed up the Medway as 
far as Upnor Castle. The thoughtless and profligate 
sovereign had applied the money which Parliament had 
voted for the pay of the navy, to his own pleasures ; the 
streets were full of starving sailors, and only a few second- 
rate or third-race ships were in commission, which were 
badly provided with the munitions of war. It is ques- 
tionable if England had ever before been in so humiliating 
and degrading a position. 

The Dutch fleet was commanded by the brave admiral 
De Ruyter, and consisted of eighty sail, and many fire- 
ships. They blocked up the mouths of the Thames and 
the Medway, and advanced as far as Chatham in one 
direction, and nearly to Gravesend in the other. The ' Royal 
Charles,' one of the best of our ships, was taken ; and 

• Nos. 384, 386, 389, and 412 of the < Penny Magazine' eon 
tain papers on * British Naval History.' 

Digitized by 





the * Royal James,* the € Oak,* and * London,' all first-rates, 
-were burned. Pepys, who was secretary to the Admi- 
ralty, says in his ' Diary,' " I did hear that there were 
many Englishmen on board the Dutch ships, speaking to 
one another in English, and that they did cry and say, 
c We did heretofore fight for tickets — now we fight for 
dollars.' " The following passages from the ' Diary ' 
illustrate the contemptible and wretched mismanagement 
of our naval resources : — " Several seamen came this 
morning to me to tell me that if I would get their tickets 
paid they would go and do all they could against the 
Dutch ; but otherwise, they would not venture being 
killed, and lose all they have already fought for ; so that 
I was forced to try what I could do to get them paid. 

. • . And indeed the hearts as well as affections 
of the seamen are turned away ; and in the open streets 
of Wapping, and up and down, the wives have cried 
publicly, c This comes of your not paying our husbands ; 
and now your work is undone, or done by hands that 
understand it not.' " 

Some time before this, while the plague was raging ,n 
London, Pepys notes — " Did business, though not much, 
at the Navy-Office, because of the horrible crowd and 
lamentable moan of the poor seamen that were starving 
in the streets for lack of money, which do trouble and 
perplex me to the heart ; and more at noon, when we 
were to go through them, for then above a whole hun- 
dred of them followed us ; some cursing, some swearing, 
and some praying to us." 

Had De Ruyter made for London at once, he might 
have burned all the shipping in the river ; but while he 
was in the Medway, Prince Rupert threw up some strong 
batteries at Woolwich, and sank a number of vessels tc 
block up the passage. At the end of June, the Dutcl 
admiral sailed from the Downs, scoured the coast, and 
returned in triumph to the Tex el, leaving the people* of 
England smarting under their disgrace and loss. The 
peace of Breda was concluded two months a 
and it was left to other times to restore the tarr 
of England to its proper lustre. James II., wfa 
of York, had been lord-high-admiral in the reign of his 
brother, and had retired in consequence of refusing to 
take the Test oath, was recalled to that post in 1684, just 
before his accession, and in the four short years which 
elapsed prior to his abdication, he had done much to put 
the navy into a better state ; aud indeed at the Revo- 
lution tne fleet was in excellent condition. 

Soon after the Dutch attack upon Sheerness, the fortifica- 
tions were rendered much stronger than before, and mounted 
with a line of large and heavy cannon ; and a garrison was 
placed in charge of them. The dockyard adjoins the for- 
tifications. It is chiefly used for the repair of ships which 
have been slightly damaged, and for building frigates 
and smaller vessels. 

The royal dockyards are at Deptford, Woolwich, 
Chatham, Sheerness, Portsmouth, Plymouth, and Pem- 
broke. The one at Plymouth was formed in the reign of 
William III., and that at Pembroke early in the reign of 
George III. There is a small yard at Deal. The esta- 
blishment at Deptford yard is at present on a very reduced 
scale. The victualling-yards for the navy are at Ports- 
mouth, Plymouth, and Deptford. The dockyard at Ports- 
mouth covers an area of one hundred acres ; that at Ply- 
mouth about seventy-one acres ; Sheerness yard about 
sixty acres ; and the dockyard at Chatham is nearly a 
mile in length. All these are places of extraordinary 
activity during v/ar, and many hundred men are em- 
ployed in each yard, whose wages amount, for the whole 
of the dockyards, to the sum of nearly one million sterling 
per annum. When Commissioners were appointed, at the 
beginning of the present century, for inquiring into the 
civil affairs of the navy, it was found that this vast sum 
was " disbursed upon the faith of the signatures of the 
clerks of the cheque in the several yards, without the pay- 

books undergoing any check of examination whatever." 
This loose method has been long since corrected. 

The attention of the same Commissioners was also 
directed to the defective education of shipwrights, many 
of whom, on being apprenticed, could neither read nor 
write ; and it is observed that while serving their time, 
" no opportunity will be found of acquiring even the 
common education given to men of their rank in life, and 
they rise to the complete direction of the construction of 
the ships on which the safety of the empire depends with- 
out any care or provision having been taken on the part 
of the public that they should have any instruction in 
mathematics, mechanics, or in the science or theory of 
marine architecture." The Commissioners remarked that 
in France the theory of ship-building engaged the atten- 
tion of men of science, but the theory and the practice were 
kept distinct ; while in England, where such science as we 
possessed was combined with a perfect practical know- 
ledge, our ships were better built, though not so well 
planned as those of France. We have, however, learnt 
to combine the science of marine architecture with the 
art of arranging the details. Under Sir Robert Seppings, 
the late surveyor of the navy, improvements were intro- 
duced calculated to effect an immense saving of timber 
and space, and the strength and durability of ships were 
also increased ; and more recently the various naval 
architects have been permitted to try their respective sys- 
tems in various experimental squadrons composed of ves- 
sels built under their directions. A great change has also 
gradually taken place in the size of ships of war. About 
the middle of the last century, the tonnage of first-rates 
was about 2000 tons, but we have at nresent one afloat 

>ve one-third 
now a frigate 
f the reign of 
ueorge n. lnis cnange muse oe laKen into account in 
estimating the comparative naval strength of the country 
In 1547 the tonnage of the royal 
s ; in 1603 the number of ships 
,000 tons ; on the death of Crom- 
well (idou; tne navy consisted of 154 sail, measuring 
57,643 tons; in 1685 there were 179 vessels, measuring 
103,558 tons; in 1702 the number of vessels in the 
public service, including hulks, hoys, and others not car- 
rying guns, was 272, measuring 159,000 tons. At the 
accession of George III., the royal navy was composed of 
127 sail of the line and 198 fifty-gun ships and under, 
the whole number measuring 321,104 tons ; in 1793, of 
153 sail of the line and 411 other ships and vessels, 
whose tonnage was 402,555 tons ; in 1803, of 189 sail 
of the liae (many of which had been taken from the 
enemy) and 781 vessels of all other descriptions, the 
whole measuring 650,976 tons. In 1820 the number of 
men voted by parliament for the service of the navy was 
23,003 ; in 1830, 29,000; aud in 1838, 34,000. The 
navy was never in so high a state of efficiency as at the 
present moment.* 

Our cut represents a first-rate line-of-battle ship lying off 
Sheerness pier. Mr. Canning, in a speech at Plymouth, in 
1823, while deprecating a restless and meddling activity, 
and defending the peaceful policy of England from those 
who ascribed it to exhaustion, finely compared our latent 
strength and power to a dismantled ship of war. " Our 
present repose," he observed, " is no more a proof of in- 
ability to act, than the state of inertness and inactivity in 
which I have seen those mighty masses that float in the 
waters above your town is a proof they are devoid of 
strength and incapable of being fitted out for action. You 
well know how soon one of those stupendous masses, now 
reposing on their shadows in perfect stillness — how soon, 
upon any call of patriotism or of necessity, it would as- 

* No. 442 of the < Penny Magazine' contains an account of 
the present state of the navy, and an estimate of the naval 
strength of other maritime powers. 

Digitized by 




[January ll t 

sume the likeness of an animated thing, instinct with life 
and motion — how soon it would ruffle, as it were, its 
swelling plumage — how quickly it would put forth all its 
beauty and its bravery, collect its scattered elements of 
strength, and awaken its dormant thunder. Such as is 
one of those magnificent machines when springing from 
inaction into a display of its might — such is England 
herself, while apparently passive and motionless, she 
silently concentrates the power to be put forth on an 
adequate occasion." Rightly he added, " But God forbid 
that occasion should arise." 


LtmwiG van Beethoven was born at Bonn, in the year 
1770. His father was a tenor singer in the elector's 
chapel. At a very early age, Beethoven had made great 
progress in music, notwithstanding his being attacked by 
a disease which affected his hearing, and at last termi- 
nated in total deafness. , 

His first publications were treated with great severity 
by the German journalists ; but it is always the fate of 
genius such as Beethoven's to be censured before it is 
understood. Those productions, so roughly treated by 
the critics of the time, probably contained crudities 
to which youthful inexperience is liable. Many of his 
early pieces, which are now looked on as smooth, clear, 
and correct compositions, were, within our remembrance, 
considered in England as wild, crabbed, and unintelli- 
gible. When Mozart's quartetts, those models of pure 
and delicate harmony, were originally published, a num- 
ber of copies sent to Italy were returned to the publishers 
as being full of errors of the engraver. The severity 
therefore with which Beethoven's early compositions were 
treated by the German critics is by no means surprising. 
By the death of the Elector of Cologne, in 1801, Beet- 
hoven lost a zealous patron ; and this event seems to have 
induced him to leave his native town and take up his 
abode in Vienna, in which city he resided for the rest of 
his life. Being of an independent spirit and utterly in- 
capable of practising the arts of a courtier, he never suc- 
ceeded in gaining the favour of the great, or in obtain- 
ing any of the advantages with which that favour is 
attended. He was appointed to no situation of emolu- 
ment, and for the greater part of his life had nothing 
but the income derived from his compositions. He 
strongly felt a treatment which was unworthy of his 
genius, and frequently gave vent to his feelings with more 
freedom than prudence. At length, in 1809, he received 
an offer of the situation of Maestro di Capella to the 
newly formed court of Jerome Bonaparte, king of 
Westphalia, and was about to accept it when the Arch- 
duke Rudolph and the Princes Lobkowitz and Kinsky, 
ashamed of the neglect he had met with, and actuated 
by a liberality which did them honour, settled on him an 
annuity of four thousand florins (400/.) by a deed drawn 
up in flattering and delicate terms. The only condition 
was, that he should reside in Vienna or some other part 
of Austria Proper, and not travel into foreign countries 
without the consent of his patrons. He was thus placed 
in easy circumstances ; but unfortunately, owing to the 
death of Count Ktnsky and the ruin of Prince Lob- 
kowitz, the greatest part of his pension was discontinued, 
and all that he was receiving at the time of his death 
was 720 florins, or 72/. per annum. 

Meantime, while a rapid succession of great works was 
filling Europe with his fame, Beethoven was withdrawing 
himself more and more from intercourse with the world, 
and living in a state of seclusion, enjoying only the so- 
ciety of a few individuals, whose admiration of his genius, 
and personal regard, led them to accommodate them- 
selves to the peculiarities of his disposition. The aris- 
tocracy of Vienna appear at length to have become aware 

of his claims to their respect. In 1824 an address was 
presented to him, with a number of noble and distin- 
guished names attached to it, requesting him to be pre- 
sent at a performance of his own works. To this he 
agreed, and the concert took place on the 7th May, in 
the principal theatre in Vienna, which was crowded to 
excess, in consequence of which the performance was 
repeated. These were his last appearances in public. 

In December, 1826, in consequence of travelling from 
the country to Vienna in very inclement weather, Beet- 
hoven caught a cold, which was followed by an inflamma- 
tion of the lungs, symptoms of dropsy appeared, and 
he laboured under the disease until tne 26 th March, 
when he expired, after dreadful sufferings, which were 
aggravated by the dread of impending destitution, that 
made him deny himself the ordinary comforts of life. 
Such being not only his own impression, but that of his 
friends, with regard to his poverty, much surprise was 
excited when it was found that he died possessed of money 
to the amount of 1200/. sterling. Besides this sum, 
which he had saved, he enjoyed the remnant of the pen- 
sion settled on him by the Archduke Rudolph, Prince 
Lobkowitz, and Count Kinsky. He had thus where- 
withal to live according to his abstemious and retired 
habits ; and when we consider his high and independent 
spirit, we can only ascribe the dread of want, which ap- 
pears to have embittered his latter days, to the influence 
of disease in breaking down his once powerful mind.* 

In stature he was short, and latterly extremely thin. 
"The neglect of his person which he exhibits, says 
Mr. Russell (Tour in Germany), " gives him a some- 
what wild appearance ; his features are strong and pro- 
minent ; his face is full of rude energy. His hair, which 
neither comb nor scissors appear to have visited for years, 
overshadows his brow in a quantity aud confusion to 
which only the snakes round a Gorgon's head afford a 
parallel. His general behaviour does not ill accord with 
the unpromising exterior; except when he is among his 
chosen friends, kindness and affability are not his cha- 
racteristics. The total loss of hearing has deprived him 
of all the pleasure society can give, and perhaps soured 
his temper." " When seated at the piano, he is evi- 
dently unconscious there is anything in existence but 
himself and his instrument ; and, considering how very 
deaf he is, it seems impossible he should hear all he 
plays. Accordingly, when playing very piano, he often 
does not bring out a single note. He hears it himself 
in c the mind's ear.' While his eye and the almost im- 
perceptible motion of his fingers show that he is following 
out the strain in all its dying gradations, the instrument 
is actually as dumb as the musician is deaf." " He 
seems," adds Mr. Russell, " to feel the bold, the com- 
manding, and the impetuous, more than what is soothing 
or gentle. The muscles of his face swell, and its veins 
start out; the wild eye rolls doubly wild, the mouth 
quivers ; and Beethoven looks like a wizard overpowered 
by the demons whom he himself has called up." He was 
extremely reserved in the company of strangers, and abrupt 
and blunt in his address. His passions were violent and 
wayward in the extreme, and so little under control, that 
some stories are told of his excesses of temper which are 
not a little startling, to English feelings at least. It is 
said that he had a servant whom he used, in the violence 
of his moods, to drag about by his hair. It is certain 
that he would publicly insult and even spit at people to 
whose countenances or personal appearance he may have 
taken any sudden and violent antipathy. If these things 
are to be extenuated, it can only be through such an 
opinion of the national manners as the countrymen of 
Beethoven would have little reason to thank us for. In his 
dress he is said to have been punctiliously particular ; while 
others assert that in his ordinary walks he looked like 

f Hogarth's < Musical History/ 

Digitized by 





beggar, and would stop people in the street to tell them 
of their faults. It must oe added that he always showed 
the utmost anxiety to remove any mischief which his 
moody and overbearing temper might have occasioned 
among friends. 

That Beethoven should have been regarded by the 
world as morose and misanthropic can scarcely be matter 
of surprise; yet he has appealed eloquently against such 
an opinion. In a will which he made during a dan- 
gerous illness he had many years before his death, is the 
following passage : — u Oh ! ye inconsiderate men, who call 
me misanthrope. My mind was formed, from my very 
cradle, for the gentler feelings of our nature, while it 
seemed destined to accomplish something great ; but only 
consider, in my sixth year I was unhappily attacked by 
a disease which was rendered still more afflicting by the 
blunders of the medicine-men in whose hands I was 
placed. After dragging on year after year, I was doomed 
to the unhappy prospect of an irremediable evil. Though 
born with an ardent and lively disposition, and a mind 
susceptible of the pleasures of society, I was obliged to 
withdraw early from a participation in them and lead a 
solitary life. When I would willingly have mixed among 
you, my misfortune was felt with double keenness, from 
the conviction it brought that I must forego the delights 
of social intercourse, the sweets of conversation, the mutual 
overflowings of the heart. When in the country, incited 
by my natural disposition, I was induced to join in the 
society of my neighbours, how bitter was my mortification 
when some one near me would stand listening to the 
tones of a flute which I could not hear ; or to the shep- 
herd's song sounding from the valley, not one note of 
which I could distinguish. Such occurrences had the 
effect of driving me almost to despair : nay, even raised 
in my mind gloomy thoughts of seeking relief in self* 
destruction. It was nothing but my art restrained me : 
it appeared impossible for me to quit the world till I had 
accomplished the objects I felt myself, as it were, destined 
to fulfil." 

But making every possible allowance for his calamity, 
of which he thus touchingly complains, there is reason to 
believe that Beethoven was but bttle suited for social in- 
tercourse : some of his best friends are known to have 
said it was difficult to live with him on terms of intimacy. 
He was well read in the literature of his country, and also 
understood English well enough to read the poets and 
Scotch novels. Among his own countrymen, Goethe was 
his favourite, whose works, he used to say, exercised a 
deep influence over him, and had been the source of 
much of his inspiration. He appears to have liked the 
English, what little he saw of them, and would speak 
with anticipated pleasure of his intended visit to England 
(which, however, never took place), and enlarge with 
enthusiasm on the " noble simplicity of British manners." 
A singular anecdote is told of his death-bed. On his 
medical attendants informing him of his approaching 
end, he immediately cried out to those around him, 
u PlaudiUy amid! comedia fmla e" (clap your hands, 
my friends ! the play is over). 

Since the time of Haydn, no composer has created so 
wide a schism in the musical public of Europe as Beet- 
hoven. The question at issue can of course be decided 
by posterity alone. Doubts have been expressed, how- 
ever, by many eminent professors, and among Beethoveu's 
greatest admirers, as to whether some of his latter works 
will stand the test of time ; nor are these doubts likely to 
be removed by the charge of " paltriness" with which 
he threatened all such as should express their inability to 
comprehend these productions. There is reason to fear 
that Beethoven suffered the moodiness of his temper to 
affect the productions of his muse, and was thus induced 
to fill his music with crude innovations out of a morbid 
opposition to existing opinion. He never could bear to hear 
bis early works admired, yet it may be confidently said 

that many of these are among his finest and most lasting 
productions. Beethoven was a great scoffer at the rules 
of composition, and has recorded his opinion of them in 
terms of unmeasured contempt. Sometimes, when in 
good humour and conversing with his professional friends 
on his delinquencies in this respect, he would rub his 
hands with delight, saying, " Aye, aye, I should like to 
see what you gentlemen with your treatises on harmony 
would say to that." In this scorn of rules he has been 
followed oy Rossini, who writes against the errors in his 
scores " per saddisfazzione de % pedanti " (for the edifi- 
cation or the pedants). 

Of Beethoven's music it may be said briefly and 
generally, that in melody, the soul of music, as Mozart 
called it, he is inferior both to him and to Haydn. 
There are few. We suspect, who will not acknowledge that 
the melodies iu each of these latter writers, which have 
become " familiar as household words " to up, far exceed 
in number, if not in quality, those furnished by Beet- 
hoven ; but in the stern and massive grandeur of his 
harmonies he has certainly never been surpassed, perhaps 
never equalled, by any one but Handel. 

If the scepticism we have alluded to respecting some 
of Beethoven's latter works should prove well founded, 
it may be fortunate for his reputation that he did not live 
any longer ; but it has lately been asserted that the post- 
humous quartette, upon which there exists so great a dif- 
ference of opinion, are not genuine ; that is, that they 
have been put together by some enterprising publisher 
from detached scraps of manuscript found among Beet- 
hoven's papers. 


The quantity of Roman money that has been found in 
Various parts of the world at different times is very great, 
and the hoards that are still occasionally discovered 
prove that the stock is not yet exhausted. These coins 
have been so studied, and are so well known to numis- 
matists, that a glance at one, though half defaced and 
mutilated, is frequently sufficient to give to a skilful con- 
noisseur a knowledge of the sera, and even of the par- 
ticular monarch whose image and superscription it bears. 
But the best antiquaries are occasionally puzzled by coins 
having reverses incompatible with their obverses, or, in 
common language, with heads and tails of different coin- 
ages ; with the head of one emperor, and the tail belong- 
ing to the money of another. This difficulty is explained 
by the discovery of moulds for casting coin, which has 
been made more than once in different parts of the an- 
cient Roman empire, and in a few cases so far away from 
the capital as the north of England. We shall proceed to 
give a succinct account of one of these discoveries, made 
about ten years ago in France, from which it seems evi- 
dent, not only that considerable forgeries of coins were 
made in the later periods of the empire by unprincipled 
men, who then, as now, risked their lives for gain, but 
that the Roman emperors themselves were forgers, and 
that, while they punished the culprits as guilty of sacrilege, 
they themselves shared largely in the disgraceful traffic ; 
that they issued perhaps a scantv coinage in genuine bul- 
lion, to save appearances, but that at the same time they 
carried on clandestinely a large manufacture of baser 
metal, more commonly in imitation of the money of their 
predecessors than of their own, and always of such em- 
perors as had in some degree lowered the metallic stand- 
ard, by which means their own departure from all stand- 
ard would be less likely to be found out. 

The manufactory we allude to was at Damery, near 
Epernay, a town about eighty miles east from Paris, and 
said to be the site of the ancient Bibe. While making 
some excavations in a park very near the old Roman 
road which passes by that place, the workmen came down 
upon an extensive building, which to all appearance had 

Digitized by 




[Jakuary 11, 1840. 

been anciently a mint. There were heaps of cinders, 
charcoal, and broken tiles, and underneath these iron 
tongs, crucibles, shears, and hammers, suitable for making 
money, and what is still more significant, several moulds 
of baked clay for casting money, in some of which the 
coin was still remaining, with the lump formed by the 
superfluous metal running over, and several other indi- 
cations, rendering it probable that the manufactory had 
caught fire when in full work ; and that in consequence 
of the concealment necessary in such an illegal establish- 
ment, and of the wars whicn were desolating the country, 
all knowledge of the hidden treasure had been subse- 
quently lost. This appears still more probable from the 
quantity of money found among the ruins, which, although 
of alloyed silver, was still of considerable value. Two 
large vases full of this money were found : in one there 
were more than two thousand pieces, above three-fourths 
of which bore the head of Posthumus, a Roman emperor, 
who reigned in Gaul, one of those numerous chiefs who 
held a precarious sovereignty in various parts of the 
Roman empire about the middle of the third century, 
now known by the fanciful name of the thirty tyrants. 
The earliest of the Eeries in this vase were of emperors 
who reigned fifty years before, and the others were of 
intermediate reigns. They were all of bad fabric, and of 
the same debased metal ; but although the devices upon 
them appeared to indicate such difference of age, thev 
were all made precisely of the same alloy, were all 
equally new, and in fact had never been in circulation. 
Another vase contained above four thousand coins, all of 
brass, and principally of the emperors Constans and Con- 
stantius, and with the mint marks upon them of Rome, 
Constantinople, Lyons, Treves, and other places, although 
there can be little doubt that they were all made in this 
newly discovered manufactory. There were no coins 
later than those of Constans and Constantius, which 
leads us to conclude that the mint was in operation under 
them, an epoch when the Franks were making their 
dreaded incursions into Belgic Gaul, where Bibe was 

The most satisfactory evidence that these coins were 
all cast at this place and at the same time, was the find- 
ing above three hundred moulds for casting a number of 
coins all together, bearing the heads of different empe- 
rors and names of different places. All these moulds 
were made of hardened clay, and the manner of making 
them was obvious from their appearance. A number of 
pieces of softened and well-worked clay must have been 
repared, each rather larger than the coins intended to 
e cast : one of these pieces of clay was then laid flat 
upon a table, and a coin laid upon it, and pressed in so 
as to make an impression upon its upper surface. On 
the coin another piece of clay was laid, and pressed 
down, so as to receive an impression upon its under sur- 
face ; another model coin was then pressed down upon 
this second piece of clay, and thus another impression 
was made upon its upper surface. The process was 
continued until a series was formed, usually of twelve 
coins, or thirteen pieces of clay, the top and bottom of 
which had only one impression each, but all the other 
pieces had impressions on both sides, obviously of two 
different coins. This will explain the coins with what 
are called blundered reverses, alluded to at the be- 
ginning of this article. They were evidently occa- 
sioned by making up the pile of clay moulds hastily, 
and inadvertently misplacing the pieces, so that the 
reverse of one coin when cast was found opposite to 
the head of one which belonged to a different emperor. 

When three piles of moulds were completed in this 
manner, they were placed in contact, side by side, so that 
each pile touched two others. Any one may have a good 
idea now this was done by heaping up three piles of 
halfpence, and putting them together upon a table ; he 
will see that when they are in contact a triangular hollow 


is formed between them, down which melted metal might 
be poured. But before putting the clay piles in contact, 
the model coins were taken out, and little holes made on 
the side of each pile, to admit the metal to run into the 
moulds ; and in placing the piles, care was taken that all 
the holes should be turned inwards, so as to be withinside 
the longitudinal hollow left in the centre. Upon the top 
of all was placed a clay cup perforated through the 
bottom, to receive the melted metal and convey it to the 
moulds, and the whole was then made perfectly dry. 
The state m which some of the moulds were found 
proved the suddenness of the cause which put a final 
period to the work ; the new coin was within them, and 
even the lump of metal which ran over wheu the casting 
was effected still remained. One of these lumps, from 
which a drawing was made at the time, came from a pile 
in which thirty-six pieces had been cast. The piece, 
which was of the bigness of a man's little finger, had 
three rows of points sticking out from its sides, corre- 
sponding with the holes by which the metal had entered 
the moulds; and at the top a large knob of metal was 
left which had filled the cup where it was first run in. 
These moulds were probably used for more than one 
casting; they were without doubt taken to pieces very 
carefully, to avoid breakage in removing the coin, and 

f>ut together again as carefully; and although some 
ittle damage might have been sustained in the process, 
the appearance of the coin in those times was generally 
so bad, that a little additional imperfection would readily 

S ass without notice. Some of the moulds thus found 
ave actually been tried again, and even after the lapse 
of fifteen centuries very passable coins have been pro- 
cured from them. 

The great extent of the manufactory at Damery, and 
its situation near a great military road, prove that it was 
not an establishment of obscure coiners ; it was certainly 
maintained at least with the connivance of the govern- 
ment, but most probably it was really a government 
establishment, though perhaps carried on somewhat clan- 
destinely ; and this will account for the very great 
number of coins of debased silver and imperfect fabric 
found with the heads of the Caesars of the third and 
fourth centuries of the Christian eera. But with the 
moulds discovered in England, a province more remote 
from the seat of government, the case was different. We 
allude to some which have been turned up by the plough 
at different times near Lingwell, between Leeds and 
Wakefield in Yorkshire. These were pretty clearly the 
work of forgers ; they were found at a considerable dis- 
tance from any great road, in the heart of a forest, and 
the money, which has in a few cases been found in them, 
is not of a silver alloy, but of copper, intended, without 
doubt, to be plated over, as it was the counterfeit of a 
denarius, a silver coin. An earthen crucible for melting 
the metal was also found at Lingwell, and it may be 
remarked that the piles were put together, not in threes, 
but in twos, a mode less convenient, and certainly re- 
quiring additional trouble, but perhaps more suitable to 
the smaller scale on which the work was carried on. 

It may be concluded that the prevalence of this forged 
money was a cause of the decline of the Roman coinage 
as works of art in the lower empire, more efficient than 
the decline of art itself. The imperial forgers felt that 
it was not their interest to produce a handsome coin 
which would be difficult to imitate, when they themselves 
drew a profit from its imitation, and which would call 
attention to the base and imperfect money their avarice 
impelled them to issue. 

V The Office of the Society for the Diffusion of Ueefol Knowledge U at 
59. Lincoln's Inn Fields. 

Printed by William Clowbi and 8o|ri, Stamford Street, 

Digitized by 



07 TBS 

Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. 



[January 18, 1840. 


[Head of a Newspaper of the Seventeenth Century.] 

In Chalmers's c Life of Ruddiman,* the Scottish gram- 
marian, who was for some time editor of the ' Caledonian 
Mercury,' there is a dissertation on the origin of news- 
papers, which contains the following passage : — " After 
inquiring, in various countries, for the origin of news- 
papers, I had the satisfaction to find what I sought for 
in England. It may gratify our national pride to he 
told that mankind are indebted to the wisdom of Eliza- 
beth and the prudence of Burleigh for the first news- 
paper. The epoch of the Spanish Armada is also the 
epoch of a genuine news-paper. In the British Museum 
there are several news-paper3 which had been printed 
while the Spanish fleet was in the English Channel, 
during the year 1588. It was a wise policy to prevent, 
during a moment of general anxiety, the danger of false 
reports, by publishing real information ; and the earliest 
news-paper is entitled ' The English Mercuric,' which, 
by authority j c was imprinted at London by Christopher 
Barker, her Hignesses printer, 1588.' " This statement 
of Chalmers's was put forth in 1794, nearly half a 
century ago, and it seems to have gratified our national 
vanity so much as never to have been once questioned. 
It has been repeated by erudite inquirers into the history 
of English literature, and copied over and over again in 
encyclopaedias, magazines, books of all kinds for desul- 
tory reading, and is often given as a reading lesson in 
class-books for schools. Ask any schoolboy, " To whom 
are we indebted for the first English newspaper? 9 ' and he 
will reply, " To the wisdom ot Elizabeth and the pru- 
dence of Burleigh." 

It is somewhat provoking, after this account of the 
origin of newspapers has been an article of the national 
belief for so long a period, to discover that not only is it 
Vol. IX. 

of doubtful and suspicious authority, but that the whole 
story is an imposition, and has only been successful 
because, though the proofs of the forgery were daily open 
to hundreds of persons, the spirit of critical inquiry was 
never directed to a question which had been apparently 
placed on the firmest foundations by Chalmers and suc- 
ceeding writers of greater authority who had in a great 
measure depended upon his statements. But the gravest 
and most deeply-cherished errors are always in danger, 
either from the sudden giving way of the foundations on 
which they rest, or from the more certain process of 
sapping and mining. " On the 4th instant," says Mr 
Watts,* of the British Museum, " I was induced to refer 
to the c English Mercurie,' by a consideration respecting 
it suggested in the article ' Armada ' in the ' Penny 
Cyclopaedia;'" and Mr. Watts then observes, — "On 
the book being brought, I hud not examined it two 

• ' A Letter to Antonio Panizsi, Esq., keeper of the printed 
hooks in the British Museum, on the Reputed Earliest Printed 
Newspaper, " The English Mercurie, 1588," by Thomas Watts, of 
the British Museum.' This letter is dated Nov. Ifith, 1839. 
Considerable doubts were entertained respecting the genuineness 
of the' English Mercurie ' before the date which Mr. Watts assigns 
for the origin of his first suspicions on this point. In part Ixxxii. 
of the ' Penny Cyclopaedia,' published at the end of November, 
this doubt is distinctly expressed by the writer of the article 
' Newspapers,* whose manuscript was in the editor's hands before 
the 4th November. After stating that copies of the ' English 
Mercurie' are in the British Museum, the writer observes: — " It 
must not however be concealed that doubt is entertained of the 
genuineness of these papers. Two of them are not of the time, 
but printed in modern type ; and no originals are known : the 
third is in manuscript of the eighteenth century, altered and inter- 
polated with changes in old language, such only as an author 
would make.'* 

Digitized by 




[January 18, 

minutes, before, to my surprise, I was forced to conclude 
that the whole was a forgery." This suspicion was con- 
firmed by the examination of other literary antiquarians ; 
and as Mr. Watts remarks, " the unaccountably success- 
ful imposition of fifty years was shattered to fragments 
in five minutes." 

We are bound, however, to lay before the reader the 
proofs on which it is asserted that " the claims of the 
English to the invention of printed newspapers are un- 
fortunately of no validity, and that the ' earliest news- 
paper ' in the Museum is an imposture." 

We shall pass over several of the minor circumstances 
which Mr. Watts regards as conclusive, but are too weak 
in themselves to sustain the proof of forgery. The evi- 
dence must rest principally on the following points : — 
1. The type employed is not that of the period, but that 
of a century ago. " The distinction between the u's, v's, 
and the i's and j's, utterly unknown to the printers of 
the sixteenth century, is here maintained throughout in 
all its rigour." 2. Though the orthography of the 
sixteenth century was capricious, yet it had certain pe- 
culiarities sufficiently marked to separate it from that of 
the eighteenth century. Mr. Watts has compared the 
' English Mercurie ' with a work entitled ' A Pack of 
Spanish Lyes,' printed by* the deputies of Christopher 
Barker, in 1588 ; and if the ' Mercurie ' had issued from 
the same printing-office, in the same year as the book in 
question, there would at least have been many points of 
orthographical uniformity; but in this respect the two 
works are " almost always at variance." The name of 
the lord-admiral's ship, which, in the ' Pack of Spanish 
Lyes * is spelt the ' Arke Royall,' is spelt in the ' Mercurie ' 
the * Ark Royal.' 3. The style of composition is not of 
the date to which it pretends. Words, phrases, and 
modes of expression are made use of which were either 
unknown at the time or were employed in a sense 
which did not become familiar to English ears until a 
period much later than the date of the * Mercurie.' Thus 
the word ' regiments ' is used ; while Hakluyt, ten years 
afterwards, when writing of the Spanish Armada, is com- 
pelled to give an explanation of the word. " There 
were in the said nauie f\\e terzaes of Spaniards (which 
terzaes the Frenchmen call regiments)." Other instances 
of a similar kind might be given. 4. Mr. W r atts is of 
opinion that an article of news in the ' Mercurie ' of July 
23rd, 1588, purporting to give an account, written by 
the lord-admiral, of events of which we now possess a 
most minute relation, could only be the work of a news- 
paper manufacturer copying from a confused statement 
of the same events by Camden. 5. The three printed 
copies of the ' Mercurie ' preserved in the British 
Museum are numbered 50, 51, and 54 ; and the manu- 
script copy of two others, intended to have been Nos. 52 
and 53. Nos. 50, 51, 52, and 53 are all dated July, 1588; 
and No. 54 commences with the date Monday, November 
24th in the same year, the three (or nearly four) interven- 
ing months being a period of most exciting interest, and 
marked by the extremes of national alarm and national 
exultation at the appearance and defeat of the Armada. 
" Is it possible to believe," asks Mr. Watts, " that, under 
these circumstances, a statesman who had already issued 
fifty-three numbers of a newspaper, four of them in the 
course of eight days, would allow August, September, 
October, and almost the whole of November, to pass by 
without publishing a fifty-fourth ?" 6. As to the manu- 
script copies of the ' Mercurie' which are bound up with 
the printed copies, Mr. Watts shows that they contain "the 
most convincing, the most irrefragable evidence that the 
whole affair is a fraud." The hand- writing of the manu- 
script is as modern as the type of the printed copies, and 
the spelling is modern spelling ; while in the printed copies 
the printer has endeavoured to give the spelling " the pro- 
per antique flavour," and has not succeeded very well. 
These manuscript copies are not a transcript from Bome 

earlier printed copy not found or known to exist. " The 
alterations in the manuscripts are not those of a transcriber, 
but of an author." Mr. Watts prints a long verbatim 
extract from the manuscript to show that the alterations 
are " so very numerous, that a transcriber who could 
perpetrate such a series of blunders must be a moral 
phenomenon ;" and he remarks, lastly, that " the cor' 
rections are, in many cases, themselves corrected ; some- 
times by a return to the original statement or mode of 
expression, a circumstance likely to occur often in the 
alterations of an author, but never in the corrections of a 
copyist." Moreover the paper bean the water-mark of 
the royal arms, with the initials ' G. R.' Nor is the 
difficulty overcome by assuming that not only is the 
manuscript a transcript from the copy as originally 
written, but the printed copy is also a reprint, as it would 
be impossible that so remarkable a work as the ' Mercurie' 
should have been in existence after the middle of last 
century, when it had attracted some curious antiquarian, 
who caused not only written but printed copies to be made 
of it, and that it should now be lost and nothing known 
of its history. 

It appears, from the letter of Mr. Watts, that the 
' English Mercurie ' came into the British Museum in 
1 766, on the death of Dr. Birch, to whose collection they 
belonged. There were three accomplished literary forgers 
of the period, Chatterton, George Steevens, and William 
Rufus Chetwood. In 1766 Chatterton was only fourteen 
years of age, and was at a charity-school in Bristol. The 
manuscripts are neither in the hand-writing of Steevens 
nor Chetwood ; but either of these characters, after having 
devised the forgery, might have left its execution to an 
accomplice. The question " Who was the forger ?" is an 
interesting one, and will doubtless excite the attention of 
the curious in questions of literary history. Mr. Watts's 
opinion of the printed and manuscript copies is that " the 
printed copies were got up for the purpose of imposition, 
that the attempt was detected, and that the whole of the 
papers were preserved as a memorial of the occurrence," 
Still it is singular, if Dr. Birch were aware of this un- 
principled attempt, that he should neither have made it 
public in his lifetime, nor left any record behind him 
concerning it. 

The invention of printed newspapers, as it cannot be 
claimed by England, is now a matter of interesting dispute 
and inquiry. It does not belong to France ; for in the 
4 Paris Gazette,' begun in the year 1631, it is remarked 
in the dedication to the king at the beginning of the 
first volume, that the publication of gazettes " is indeed 
a novelty, but in France only." It will probably be 
found that the honour belongs either to Venice or Nu- 

In England we had without doubt genuine newspapers 
very early in the seventeenth century, that is, some 
twenty years only after the date of the fictitious* Mercurie ;* 
but, as it is remarked in the * Pictorial History of Eng- 
land,' the cera of English newspapers commences with 
the first year of the Long Parliament (1640). More 
than a hundred newspapers, with different titles, appear 
to have been published between this date and the death 
of the king (1649), and upwards of eighty others between 
that event and the Restoration (1660). Chalmers, in 
his * Life of Ruddiman,' informs us that " when hostilities 
commenced, every event during a most eventful period 
had its own historian, who communicated * News from 
Hull,' ' Truths from York,' * Warranted Tidings from 
Ireland,' and ' Special Passages from several places.' 
These were all occasional papers. Impatient, however, 
as a distracted people were for information, the news 
were never distributed daily. The various newspapers 
were published weekly at first ; but in the progress of 
events and the ardour of curiosity, thy were distributed 
twice or thrice in every week*. Such were the • French 
Intelligencer,' the \ Dutch Spy,' the * Irish Mercury/ and 

Digitized by 






the € ScaU Dove,' the « Parliament Kite,' and the 
Owl.' " 

At the conclusion of his letter Mr. Watts directs at- 
tention to an error which has obtained almost as extensive 
a currency as that concerning the origin of newspapers. 
* The Gentleman's Magazine,' " he observes, " unac- 
countably passes for the first periodical of that descrip- 
tion, while, in (act, it was preceded nearly forty years by 
the ' Gentleman's Journal ' of Motteux, a work much 
more closely resembling our modern magazines, and 
from which Sylvanus Urban borrowed part of his title 
and part of his motto ; and while on the first page of 
the first numbers of the ' Gentleman's Magazine' itself, 
it is stated that it contains * more than any book of the 
kind and price.' " 


[Prom a Cbrrespotxtaii.] 

There are various instances on record fully establishing 
the courage and sagacity of that noble animal the horse. 
The following incidents I am about to relate occurred in 
America, to horses bred in that country. 

A short distance below Fort Erie, and about a mHe 
from where the river Niagara escapes oyer a barrier of 
rock from the depths of Lake Erie, a ferry has long been 
established across that broad and there exceedingly rapid 
river, the distance from shore to shore being a little over 
one-third of a mile. On the Canada side of the river is 
the small ^village of Waterloo, and opposite thereto on the 
United SLates side is the large village of Blackrock — 
distant from the young and flourishing city of Buffalo 
two miles. In completing the Erie Canal, a pier or dam 
was erected — up and down the river, and opposite to 
Blackrock, at no great distance from the shore, for the 
purpose of raising the waters of the Niagara to such a 
height that they might be made to supply an adjoining 
section of the Erie canal. This pier was (and is) a great 
obstruction to the ferry-boats; for previous to its erec- 
tion passengers embarked from terra firma on one side 
of the driver, and were landed without any difficulty on 
the other ; but after this dam was constructed it became 
necessary to employ two sets of boats— one to navigate 
the river, and the other the basin ; so that all passengers, 
as well as goods or luggage, had to be landed upon this 
narrow wall or pier, and re-shipped. 

Shortly after the erection of the pier dam, a boat pro- 
pelled by horses was established between this pier and 
the Canada shore. The horses moved upon a circular 
platform, which consequently was put in motion, to which 
other machinery was connected, that acted upon paddle- 
wheels attached to the sides of the boat. The boat be- 
longed to persons connected with the ferry on the Ameri- 
can side of the river ; but, owing to the barrier formed 
by the pier, the horses employed on the boat were stabled 
at night in the village of Waterloo. I well recollect the 
first day this boat began to ply, — for the introduction of 
a boat of that description, in those days, and in such a 
situation, was considered an event of some magnitude. 
The two horses (for that boat had but two) worked ad- 
mirably, considering the very few lessons they had had 
(upon the tread-mill, as it was called) previous to their 
introduction upon the main river. 

One of the horses employed on the new ferry-boat had 
once been a dapple-grey, but at the period I am speak- 
ing of he had become white. He was still hale and 
hearty, for he had a kind and indulgent master. The 
first evening after the horses had been a short time in the 
stable, to which they were strangers, they were brought 
out for the purpose of being watered at the river, the 
common custom at this place. The attendant was 
mounted upon the bay horse,— the white one was known 
to be so gentle and docile, that he was allowed to drink 
where he pleased. I happened to be standing close by, 

in company with my friend W n, the ferry con- 
tractor on the Canada side, and thus had an opportunity 
of witnessing the whole proceedings of old Grizzle, the 
name that the white horse still went by. The moment 
he got round the corner of the building, so as to have a 
view of his home on the opposite side,— he stopped— 
and gazed intently. He then advanced to the brink of 
the river,— when he again stopped and looked earnestly 
across for a short time;— then waded into the water until 
it had reached his chest — drank a little, lifted his head ; 
and, with his lips closed, and his eyes fixed upon some 
object upon the farther shore, remained for a short time 
perfectly motionless. Apparently having made up his 
mind to the task, he then waded farther into the river 
until the water reached his ribs,— when off he shot into 
deep water without a moment's more hesitation. 

The current being so strong and rapid, the river 
boiling and turraoiling over a rocky bed at the rate of 
six miles the hour, it was impossible for the courageous 
and attached animal to keep a direct course across, 
although he breasted the waves heroically, and swam 
with remarkable vigour. Had he been able to steer 
his way directly across, the pier-wall would have proved 
an insurmountable barrier. As it was, the strength ot 
the current forced him down to below where the lower 
extremity of this long pier abuts upon an island, the 
shore of which being low and shelving, he was enabled 
to effect a landing with comparative ease. Having re- 
gained terra foma, he shook the water from his drip- 
ding flanks, but he did not halt over a few minutes, 
when he plunged into the basin and soon regained his 
native shore. 

The distance from where Grizzle took the water to 
where he effected a landing on the island was about 
seven hundred yards; but the efforts made to swim 
directly across, against the powerful current, must have 
rendered the undertaking a much more laborious one. 
At the commencement of his voyage his arched neck and 
withers were above the surface, but before he reached 
the bland nothing but his head was visible to us. 

He reached his own stable-door, that home for which 
he had risked so much, to the no small astonishment 
of his owner. This unexpected visit evidently made a 
favourable impression upon his master, for he was heard 
to vow, that if old Grizzle performed the same feat a 
second time, for the future he should remain on his own 
side of the river, and never be sent to the mill again. 
Grizzle was sent back to work the boat on the following 
day, but he embraced the very first opportunity that 
occurred of escaping, swam back in the way he had done 
before, and his owner, not being a person to break the 

Eromise he had once made, never afterwards dispossessed 
im of the stall he had long been accustomed to, but 
treated him with marked kindness and attention. 

During my residence on the head-waters of the Susque- 
hana, I owned a small American horse, of the name of 
Charlie, that was very remarkable for his attachment to my 
own person, as well as for his general good qualities. He 
was a great favourite with all the family ; and being a fa- 
vourite, he was frequently indulged with less work and 
more to eat than any of the other horses on the farm. At 
a short distance from the dwelling-house was a small but 
luxuriant pasture, where, during the summer, Charlie 
was often permitted to graze. When this pasture had 
been originally reclaimed from its wild forest state, about 
ten years previous to the period of which I am speaking, 
four or five large trees of the sugar-maple species had 
been left standing when the rest were cut down, and 
means had afterwards been found to prevent their being 
scorched by the fire at the time the rest of the timber 
had been consumed. Though remarkably*fine trees of 
their kind, they were, however, no great ornament, their 
stems being long and bare, their heads small and by 
no means full of leaves, — the case generally with trees 

Digitized by VjOOQ IC 



[January 18, 

that have grown up in close contact with each other in 
the American forests. But if they were no ornament, 
they might serve as shade-trees. Beneath one of these 
trees Charlie used to seek shelter, as well from the 
heat of the meridian sun, as from the severe thunder- 
gusts that occasionally ravage that part of the country. 
On an occasion of this sort Charlie had taken his stand 
close to his favourite tree, his tail actually pressing 
against it, his head and hody in an exact line with the 
course of the wind ; apparently understanding the most 
advantageous position to escape the violence of the storm, 
and quite at home, as it were, for he had stood in the 
same place some scores of times. The storm came on, 
and raged with such violence that the tree under which 
the horse had sought shelter was literally torn up by the 
roots. I happened to be standing at a window from 
whence I witnessed the whole scene. The moment 
Charlie heard the roots giving way behind him, that is, 
on the contrary side of the tree from wher? he stood, and 
probably feeling the uprooted tree pressing against his tail, 
he sprang forward, and barely cleared the ground upon 
which, at the next moment, the top of the huge forest-tree 
fell with such a force that the crash was tremendous, for 
every limb and branch were actually riven asunder. I 
have many a time seen horses alarmed, nay, exceedingly 
frightened ; but never in my life did I witness any thing 
of the sort that bore the slightest comparison to Charlie's 

extreme terror ; and yet Charlie, on ordinary occasions, 
was by no means a coward. He galloped, he reared his 
mane, and tossed his head, he stopped short, and snorted 
wildly, and then darted off at the top of his speed in a 
contrary direction, and then as suddenly stopped and set 
off in another, until long after the storm had considerably 
abated, and it was not until after the lapse of some hours 
that he ventured to reconnoitre — but that at a considerable 
distance — the scene of his narrow escape. 

For that day at least his appetite had been com- 
pletely spoiled, for he never offered to stoop his head to 
the ground while daylight continued. The next day 
his apprehension seemed somewhat abated, but his cu- 
riosity had been excited to such a pitch that he kept pacing 
from place to place, never failing to halt as he passed 
within a moderate distance of the prostrate tree, gazing 
thereat iu utter bewilderment, as if wholly unable to com- 
prehend the scene he had witnessed the preceding day. 

After this occurrence took place I kept this favourite 
horse several years, and during the summer months 
he usually enjoyed the benefit of his old pasture. But 
it was quite clear that he never forgot, on any occasion, 
the narrow escape he had had ; for neither the burning 
rays of the noontide summer sun, nor the furious raging of 
the thunder-storm, could compel Charlie to seek shelter 
under one of the trees that still remained standing in 
his small pasture. 


[The little wheel, commonly called the Leipnc or Saxony wheeL 

It frequency happens that the principle which pervades 
an important process, or which is the distinguishing 
feature in a complex machine, may be better understood 
by a consideration of the primitive or rude modes of 

proceeding than by describing at once those of modern 
date. We think that this remark is applicable on the 
present occasion. We have brought the materials for 
our cotton gown to that state where the labours of the 

Digitized by 





spinner are required. Now in order to form some idea 
how the spinning-jennies, throstle~frames, and mules 
perform this operation, we will briefly consider the do- 
mestic mode of spinning, now almost unknown in this 
country on account of the cheapness of machine-spun 

The object of spinning is to draw out the rovings of 
cotton (which are soft and easy to be broken), and twist 
them round their centre until all the fibres are so curled 
as to form a tolerably firm thread — not such as is used 
for sewing, but such as is employed by the weaver under 
the name of yarn. This used to be effected by means of 
a wheel similar to that represented in the cut given in 
the * Penny Magazine,' No. 274, commonly called the 
big wheel. The spinster is seated on a stool, and 
takes one of the bobbins in her lap. Unfastening 
one end of the roving, she attaches it to the end of 
a horizontal spindle, which is so connected to a large 
wheel as to be set in rotation by it. The spinster, 
holding the cotton in the left hand, draws her hand 
back to some distance from the spindle; and then, 
by turning the wheel with her right hand, twists the 
portion of cotton extending from the spindle to her left 
hand. When this is twisted into a tolerably firm yarn 
or thread, she winds it on the spindle by reversing the 
motion of the wheel. The main principle in this opera- 
tion is this, that by stretching out a portion of the cotton, 
and causing the spindle, to which one end of it is attached, 
to revolve, the cotton invariably receives a twist, which 
condenses and hardens the assemblage of fibres. The 
little wheel, of which we have given a representation 
above, occupied the fore-finger and thumb of both hands, 
those of one hand holding the filaments, while the other 
drew them out into an equable thread. Sometimes two 
spindles were attached, and the spinster could then form 
a thread with each hand. The twisting and winding of 
the thread were also carried on together by means of an 
ingenious piece of mechanism. This wheel, however, 
was chiefly used for flax. 

In a way very similar to this was conducted the spin- 
ning of almost all the cotton employed in this country 
until about 1160. It used to be done by the wives and 
daughters of cottagers by their own fire-sides. The 
cotton-weavers of that day were accustomed to work at 
their own houses ; and as each weaver could weave as 
much yarn as three women could spin with their wheels, 
he was obliged, after having worked up that which his 
wife and daughters had spun, to apply to the spinsters of 
the neighbourhood for a further supply. When the 
demand for cotton goods increased, the supply of spun- 
yarn was so inadequate, that a weaver was frequently 
under the necessity of trudging three or four miles in a 
morning, and visiting many spinners, before he could 
collect yarn enough to keep his loom at work during 
the rest of the day ; and such was the competition he met 
with from other weavers similarly employed, that he was 
often obliged to treat the females with presents in order 
to quicken them at their work. 

This was a critical period in the history of our cotton 
manufacture ; for had not some machine been invented 
to accelerate the production of spun-yarn, the supply 
would have been obtained from other countries instead 
of our own. This was prevented by the labours of 
James Hargrcaves, who invented the spinning -jenny. 
This was a machine formed on the basis of the spinning- 
wheel, but differing from it in these important particulars, 
that the wheel which the spinuer turned with his right 
hand set in rotation several dozen spindles instead of a 
single one ; and a frame which he held in his left hand 
guided and managed several dozen threads instead of one 
single thread ; i*i fact, the machine was equivalent to 
multiplying the number of hands, both right and left, 
possessed by the spinner. Hargrcaves met with a return 
that too often falls to the lot of those who benefit man- 

kind: his house was broken open and his machine 
destroyed by the envious spinners of the neighbour- 

The invention once made, however, was not lost to 
society. A variety of improvements, chiefly by Ark- 
wright and Crompton, were brought to bear in the 
spinning apparatus. These improvements are all sus- 
ceptible of being separated into two classes, one in which 
there is a moveable frame of some kind to stretch out the 
threads before they receive their twist, and another in 
which that motion is dispensed with. A cottage spin- 
ster, who moves her left hand alternately to and from 
her spindle, works on the first-named plan : the spin- 
ning-jenny of Hargreaves acted on the same plan by 
the movement of a frame to which the threads were 
attached : lastly, Crompton invented the mule-jenny, in 
which the threads were stretched by the movement of a 
little four-wheeled carriage instead of the hand-frame of 
the spinning-jenny. 

On the other hand, a different land of spinning action 
was produced by Arkwright's water-twist frame, and 
by a more recent form of machine called the throstle. 
The most essential parts of these machines may be seen 
from the annexed cut. In the upper part are several 

Throstle-Spinning Apparatus.] 

bobbins, containing cotton roving, as brought from the 
roving-machine. By the rotation of these bobbins the 
roving is unwound ; and after passing over a slender 
bar, is carried between some pairs of horizontal rollers, 
which, by a varying velocity, have the effect of drawing 
or stretching the cotton. The roving from each bobbin 
then passes down one prong of a curious kind of fork, 
called a flier, and as this flier rotates round a little pirn 
or bobbin, the cotton, which becomes firmly twisted by 
the rotation of the flier, is wound on the bobbin in the 
form of yarn. The bobbins are made to rotate by a 
band passing round the spindles beneath them. 

There are many elaborate piece3 of mechanism con- 
nected with the spinning apparatus, but it would be im- 

• See a wood-cut of this machine, in No. £74. 

Digitized by 




[January 18, 

possible to mention them here. Indeed the reason why 
we have described the difference between mule-spinning 
(that in which a frame travels to and fro) and throstle- 
spinning (that in which a fork-like flier revolves round 
the spindle) is, because the yarn produced is of different 
quality in the two cases. Arkwright's machines were of 
the latter description, and were fitted to spin warp, or 
long threads, and hosiery yarn, of a stout quality ; while 
Hargreave's jenny was fitted to produce a soft yarn for 
weft, and for many years all our cottons were made ac- 
cording to those respective qualities. The improvements 
in both classes of machines have not changed their rela- 
tive character, for Dr. Ure says — " The mule makes a 
definite length of yarn, after which it winds it up while 
the operation of spinning is suspended; whereas the 
throstle makes the yarn and winds it up simultaneously. 
The mule is used generally for all numbers above 30 's 
(a technical name for a certain thickness of yarn), throstles 
being now seldom used to spin so high as 40 's. The 
quality of the yarn produced by the two machines is 
quite different. The throstle yarn, known under the 
name of wafer-twist (from having been first produced 
by the machine called a water-frame) is smooth and 
wiry ; while the mule-yarn is of a soft and downy nature. 
The former is usually employed for warps in heavy 
goods, such as fustians, cords, or for making sewing- 
thread ; and the latter for weft in coarse goods ; as also 
for both warp and weft in finer fabrics."* 

The reader may perhaps be surprised that the material 
for our cotton gown is not further advanced — that it is 
yet only thread, mere thread. But the truth is, that the 
processes which precede weaving are of infinitely greater 
importance than weaving itself. The production of good 
yarn was deemed by our Arkwrights, Hargreaves, and 
Cromptons, as more deserving of their study than the 
weaving of that yarn into cloth. Weaving is, however, 
of great importance, and is only comparatively shrouded 
by the vast efforts made to improve the processes of 
carding, drawing, spinning, &c. 

The yarn which has been prepared in the modes de- 
scribed is devoted to different purposes ; some is made 
into bobbin-net thread, some into lace-thread, some into 
stocking-thread, and another portion into sewing-cotton 
or thread, which is sold in balls, reels, and skeins. For 
the preparation of these various kinds of thread, two, 
three, or four yarns are laid parallel and twisted to- 
gether into a firm and compact thread by machines con- 
structed for the purpose. But the larger portion is used 
by the weaver in the state of yarn, and is by him converted 
into calico and all the numerous kinds of cotton fabrics. 
The difference between these fabrics arises principally 
from the different thickness and quality of the yarn em- 
ployed, and from the different modes of making the 
threads interlace among one another. 

When cotton has been spun into yarn, and is destined 
for the market, it is made up into hanks of 840 yards 
each. But when it is woven in the same manufactory 
where it has been spun, the yarn is wound off from the 
small bobbins upon larger ones. Several of these bob- 
bins are then taken to a machine called the warping-mill, 
where, by a beautiful train of operations, from two to four 
thousand threads are rauged and stretched side by side : 
these form the warp of the intended piece of cloth, and 
the number of threads varies with the width which the 
cloth is intended to be. Most cottons in the next opera- 
tion receive a coating of glue, size, paste, or starch. 
The object to be attained by this seems to be sometimes 
to facilitate the weaving, sometimes to impart a certain 
degree of strength to the cotton, and at others the less 
creditable one of making them appear more stout and 
compact than they really are. Formerly the sizing, or 
dressing^ was done by hand ; but it is now effected in an 
ingenious machine, in which the yarn dips into a trough 

* « Cotton Manufacture of Great Britain,* vol. ".» p. 119. 

of paste or size— passes between two rollers to have a 
portion of that covering squeezed from it — then over a 
hollow chamber heated by steam, by which the paste im 
dried, — and is finally wound on a large roller called a 
warp-beam: all these effects are produced while the 
yarn is travelling from one end to the other of the 
machine. The warp-beam, with the yarn upon it, is 
then conveyed to the weaving-loom. 

The yarn just alluded to is to form the warp, or lon- 
gitudinal thread, of the cloth. The yarn for the weft is 
fastened up into hanks, and from thence transferred by 
the weaver to his shuttle. We may here remark, in 
connection with these hanks, that the number attached 
to any particular quality of yarn represents the number 
of hanks to the pound, the hank always containing 840 
yards. Thus we have No. 40, 60, 80, Ac. The last- 
named quality was deemed a wonder when Crompton's 
spinning-apparatus first produced it, and he obtained 
two guineas per pound for it ; but such have been the 
improvements since his day, that even a finer quality, 
No. 100, can be procured for three shillings per pound ; 
while the power of producing exquisitely fine yarn has 
advanced to such a degree, that as high a number as 
350 has been produced, that is, 350 hanks of 840 yards 
each, or 294,000 yards, to the pound. 

Weaving will be briefly described in the next paper ; 
but we may here remark that it was the impetus given to 
the cotton manufacture by the improvements in spinning 
that led to the substitution of power or machine weaving 
for hand- weaving. The foot and the hand of the weaver 
were found to move too slowly for the demand of the 
market. It was said by Dr. Cartwright : — " Happening 
to be at Matlock in the summer of 1784, 1 fell in com- 
pany with some gentlemen of Manchester, when the 
conversation turned on Arkwright's spinning-machinery. 
One of the company observed, that as soon as Arkwright's 
patent expired, so many mills would be erected, and so 
much cotton spun, that hands never could be found to 
weave it : to this observation I replied, that Arkwright 
must then set his wits to work to invent a weaving-mill." 
This conversation was the exciting cause of the produc- 
tion of a loom for which Dr. Cartwright received 10,000/. 
from parliament, and which was followed by repeated 
improvements : the result of this has been, that a weaver 
can produce twenty pieces of cloth in the time formerly 
necessary to produce two. 


f Prom a Correspondent.] 

Those who have never witnessed the great accumulation 
of snow which takes place during some severe winters in 
the mountainous district of the north of England, as 
well as of Scotland, would scarcely credit the extent, the 
length, the breadth, and the depth of some of the immense 
masses of snow that accumulate in certain situations 
among the mountains ; and many persons there are, no 
doubt, who are totally ignorant of the fact, that in every 
mountain district of the north there are snow-drifts that 
never wholly dissolve and disappear, but fragments of 
which remain from season to season, and from year to 
year, in the hollows and declivities of the mountains (for 
the most part where the aspect is northerly), notwith- 
standing the copious and frequent falls of spring and 
autumn rain, to which these mountain districts are pe- 
culiarly liable, and the dissolving influence of the gentle 
breezes of summer. These fragments of the winter 
snow-drifts are seldom visible from the roads and high- 
ways leading through the open and more distant part 
of the country, or even along the adjacent valleys, and 
consequently their existence is known only to those who 
are familiar with the situations they are known to occupy. 
In these upland districts but small quantities of grain 
are grown, the soil for the most part being unsuited to 
corn crops, while the climate is even more so. Hence 

Digitized by 





the farmers turn their attention to the breeding of 
sheep and black cattle, the mountain districts of the 
north of England being mostly sheep-farms; while in 
various parts of the hilly country in Scotland large 
numbers of black cattle are bred and sent to the southern 

In the sheep districts in the north of England the farms 
are seldom large, and yet many of the farmers manage 
to keep pretty numerous flocks of sheep, varying from 
three or four hundred to the same number of thousands. 
This, however, is effected only where population is scanty, 
and where the commons (usually called fells) are very 
extensive, and upon which the owners or occupiers of the 
enclosed land or farms enjoy an unlimited right of pas- 
turage, or common right, as it is generally called. 
Hence it frequently happens that the occupier of 80 or 
100 acres of enclosed land, and much of it of but an in- 
different quality, if he possess sufficient capital, and the 
farm be conveniently situated, will keep a flock of sheep 
of 1000 or 2000 of the 6mall black-faced or mountain 
breed, the whole of which he summer-pastures on the 
fells or moors ; but a considerable portion of which, par- 
ticularly the younger and weaker part, he has to send out, 
at so much per head, into some more congenial part of 
the country, during the winter season. He could not, 
however, afford to pay for winter pasturage for the whole 
of his flock, and therefore the greater portion remains in 
his own enclosures, or on the lower ranges of mountain- 
land contiguous thereto, during the winter, endeavouring 
to procure a scanty subsistence among the heath, the 
rashes, and the bent grass, in the best way they are able. 
But when the snow lies deep, and the weather is very 
severe, these animals, hardy as they undoubtedly are, 
would absolutely starve were they not supplied with a 
little hay from the homestead. The hay is commonly 
borne on the heads or backs of the shepherds, in bundles 
as large as they can possibly wade through the snow 
with ; but occasionally on the backs of horses, where 
they can travel without much danger or difficulty. The 
hay is secured into a species of rude net-work formed 
of withies, and known by the local appellation of creels, 
in which loose hay, as well as that which is more solid, 
may be packed firmly and securely. When a snow- 
storm is of long continuance, the shepherds have enough 
to do in preventing their flocks straying away, and in 
supplying them with hay once or twice in the day, ac- 
cording to the severity of the weather ; for wading through 
deep snow, with a heavy load on the head or shoulders, 
and often where the ground is hilly and broken, is a very 
laborious business. 

Though there are neither fences nor other landmarks 
on those extensive mountain-ranges, from long usage, or 
some supposed right or claim, almost every sheep-farmer 
appears to consider that he possesses some peculiar pri- 
vilege to the pasturage of that part of the common on 
which his flock usually feeds. Hence these flocks are 
rarely much intermixed with each other, the owners or 
their shepherds taking the liberty to drive or frighten 
away such of their neighbour's sheep as chance to mix 
among their own. Although this sort of arbitrary ex- 
clusiveness occasionally leads to bickerings and ani- 
mosities between the parties whose flocks come thus in 
collision, it certainly prevents a great deal of trouble in 
separating and assorting at the seasons of sheep-washing, 
sheep-shearing, sheep-salving, &c, when each flock has 
necessarily to be divested of all intruders. It does not 
often happen that these extensive commons are over- 
stocked, notwithstanding there being no limit to the 
number of sheep in any farmer's flock; but since the 
pasturage is of so poor a nature that, even when there is 
abundance of room, and to spare, for all the sheep that 
may be kept, the flocks never arrive at a high state of 
condition — nothing like that of fitting them for the 
shambles, — in case of any crowding or overstocking 

taking place, the reduced condition of the whole would 
be a serious consideration to all the parties con- 

Though sheep, like most other animals, appear to be 
endowed with a certain degree of instinct, yet it does not 
follow, as a matter of course, that it always operates 
towards ensuring their safety. Persons who have had 
the most frequent opportunities of observing them gene- 
rally, appear to have come to this conclusion, that when a 
storm is approaching they are seldom taken by surprise ; 
or, in fact, before it actually comes on, they have en- 
deavoured to find a place to shelter themselves from its 
fury : but in cases of snow-storms among the mountains, 
it very generally happens that the places of shelter from 
the bitter and piercing blast are places fraught with the 
greatest danger, for it is there that the drifting snow 
accumulates in vast masses ; and while the flocks that 
have sought shelter are comparatively warm and comfort- 
able, probably before they are aware the drift will have 
become piled up in such a manner as to render all 
attempts to retreat impracticable even were they inclined 
to do so. Thus it sometimes happens that in the space 
of a very few hours some scores, nay, perhaps hundreds, 
of sheep become buried beneath the snow to a depth of 
several feet. In most parts of these mountain-regions, 
where the hills are pretty steep, their sides are usually 
furrowed by several clefts, or deep and narrow ravines, 
down which trickle the waters of small springs that 
commonly have their rise in the upper parts of the 
mountain. The spaces along the sides of the hills, 
between these respective furrows or dells, for the most 
part are smooth and bare; so that at the approach of a 
snow-storm, should these places be resorted to by the 
flocks as places of shelter, they are soon buried to a con- 
siderable depth, since all the snow that falls on the 
smooth portions of the mountain is hurled into these 
dangerous ravines. 

When a snow-storm comes on unexpectedly, the losses 
in the flocks of sheep are generally the greatest ; for 
when it is foreseen, the shepherds are on the alert ; and 
though it may not be within their power to prevent some 
portion of the flock being buried (overblown, as they call 
it) beneath the snow, yet, in most cases, they are aware 
of the situation the missing sheep occupied when the 
storm came on, and consequently know pretty well 
where to search the drifts for them. When the snow 
falls extremely light and feathery, the drift will hardly 
sustain a person's weight for a day or two afterwards, 
but in such cases there is not much danger of the sheep 
being suffocated under it ; but when it falls in a softer 
state, but yet light enough to be drifted by a strong wind, 
the drift at once becomes consolidated and heavy, and 
then it is that there exists great danger of the sheep 
being quickly smothered. 

There are two methods pursued in searching for the 
missing sheep when a snow-storm has subsided ; one of 
them with dogs, — sheep -setters, or, as they are some- 
times called, sheep-finders ; the other, thus: three or 
four persons go in company, carrying with them a 
couple of long smooth poles, and also some spades or 
shovels. Those that carry the poles, walk along the 
drifted snow beneath which they suspect some of the 
sheep are buried, frequently pushing their poles gently 
through the snow, in order to ascertain, by the touch, the 
presence of the missing sheep ; when, having made 
the discovery of one or more, the shovels are employed 
in opening a way by which to liberate the innocent pri- 
soners. Persons accustomed to this prodding (probing) 
for sheep, as it is called, can readily distinguish by the 
touch of the pole the woolly coat of a sheep from any 
other substance, — even from the bushy and elastic heath, 
or the softer bent and mountain moss. This mode of 
search, however, is a slow and tedious process where there 
is a considerable breadth of drift, a great deal of time 

Digitized by 




[January 18, 1840. 

necessarily being Consumed in carefully examining a 
comparatively small space. Besides, it sometimes bap- 
pens that the drifts are so deep that an ordinary pole will 
hardly penetrate them to the bottom, and in that case the 
system becomes altogether useless. 
* The employment of dogs to find the lost sheep is 
by far the better plan, where it can be effected. The 
sheep-setter is of no particular breed, though, for the 
most part, these dogs belong to the cur species. But there 
are so many varieties of the cur— or, at all events, so many 
coming under that very general term, that it would be 
impossible to define what peculiar class my father's dog, 
Corby the sheep-finder, belonged to. He was large 
and black, strong-limbed, long and lean bodied, shaggy- 
coated, with a little white on the breast, as well as between 
the eyes. His ears were precisely those of the common 
cur, and his tail — for he was not tailless — was both large 
and long. Corby from his puppyhood was a favourite 
in the family, certainly not on account of personal attrac- 
tions, for these were by no means in his favour, but from 
sundry good qualities that he was early discovered to pos- 
sess. He was docile, sagacious, courageous, and faithful, 
and when he grew up he exhibited an extraordinary 
of smelling, particularly as regarded sheep, and hei 
soon became the most renowned sheep-setter throi 
wide range of country. This rendered him of so iuuw 
account that it in a manner changed 1 
been brought up with no other view 
employed as an ordinary shephert 
qualities soon procured for him a h 
he became a privileged character in 
parlour ; scarcely any services were 
cept after a severe snow-storm, when ne was caueu upon 
to exercise his vocation, which, during many years, he 
lived to do, and with wonderful success. 

It was not only upon our own farm and flock that 
Corby exercised tne extraordinary powers nature had en- 
dowed him with, for his fame as a sheep-finder extended 
through all the surrounding parishes ; and many were 
the messages and requests that his owner would permit 
him to be taken to the distant parts of the upland country, 
where portions of the sheep-flocks were often buried be- 
neath the snow. We had a servant-boy, to whom the 
dog was much attached, and when it was convenient to 
spare the latter to exercise his abilities for the benefit of 
our neighbours, the former usually accompanied him, for 
it was not to be supposed that so faithful and sagacious a 
creature would voluntarily accompany entire strangers. 
Money, of course, my father would never accept for 
Corby's services, but the boy that used to accompany the 
sheep-finder was not so rigidly scrupulous, and many 
were the shillings and half-crowns that he pocketed in 
the course of a stormy winter. 

The sagacious animal always took advantage of the 
wind, where that was practicable, and the moment he 
was told to * seek the sheep — be careful,' his whole atten- 
tion was bestowed upon those parts of the snow-drift that 
the parties pointed out to him. With his nose close to 
the surface of the snow, his eyes beaming with intelligence 
and anxiously watching every motion of the person that 
accompanied him, his ears in an attitude of listening, 
as if he expected to assist the sense of smelling by that of 
hearing, would he traverse the hard, soft, or slippery 
snowdrift. When he first ascertained that there were 
buried sheep somewhere in the vicinity, he would then 
examine, with peculiar caution, every part of the surround- 
ing surface, until he appeared to have satisfied himself 
regarding the precise locality, and then he would com- 
mence scratching away the snow with all his might. 
This was a sure signal for those who carried the shovels 
to commence digging, but the dog was never satisfied un- 
less he were allowed to continue his scratching, as if he 
were anxious to set the imprisoned sheep at liberty as soon 
as possible. Many dogs, and particularly those that have 

a cross of the terrier breed, that are occasionally employed 
in searching for sheep that have been overblown, the 
moment they get a sight of the sheep will endeavour to 
seize upon them with as much savageness as they would 
attack any wild animal; but Corby knew better than to 
act thus. In a single severe winter this dog has been 
known to have set (as finding the sheep in this manner is 
called) upwards of three hundred sheep, and though it 
may be true that a portion of them might have been dis- 
covered through other means, the probability is that he 
was the means of rescuing several scores that otherwise 
inevitably would have perished. 

It might be supposed that where sheep are buried be- 
neath eight or ten feet of compact snow, that they 
would be crushed beneath the surrounding weight, if not 
to immediate death, at least in so severe a manner that 
they could not long survive. This, however, is rarely the 
case ; and except when the fall of snow is immediately 
succeeded by a thaw r and suffocation or drowning na- 
turally ensues, very few, comparatively, perish on account 
of the great depth of the drift, the snow being so porous 
that restoration is carried on without much inconvenience, 
las shown that, for the most part, when sheep 
ught shelter in some ravine or hollow per- 
iow rapidly increasing on and around them, 
mev irec upon their feet and attempt to shake it from their 
equently in a standing position become 
in the drift. With the weaker portion 
Beldom the case, for they commonly con- 
»re they have first lain down, in some 
until the snow has accumulated so 
uld be impossible for them to rise did 
tney make tne attempt. The consequence of this is, that 
if they are not rescued for several days, they either 
perish through actual starvation, not being able to move 
at all or obtain the smallest particle of sustenance, or 
their limbs become stiff and paralyzed before death ac- 
tually takes place. Those, however, that have been 
buried in the snow in a standing position, should they 
continue undiscovered . several days, are generally found 
to have acquired sufficient room to turn themselves, 
and to be able to lie down and rise at pleasure ; and 
where a few have happened to stand close together while 
the drift was forming, owing to the united warmth of 
their bodies, as well as their frequent movements, a 
rather considerable open space is commonlv found sur- 
rounding them. 

Instances have occurred of sheep being under the snow 
for three or four weeks, and still surviving, and even for 
longer periods. But in all such cases they have had the 
power of nibbling the short -grass, grass-roots, and even 
a portion of the soil, on a space of a few superficial feet, 
through which means life has been sustained through so 
protracted a period of confinement. It has been ascer- 
tained also that, where sheep have actually been starved 
to death before they were discovered, extreme hunger 
had driven them to tear the wool from each other's backs, 
which only goes to prove the powerful influence of hunger 
even over these meek and innocent creatures. When 
sheep are discovered that have suffered a long confinement 
under the snow, on their being liberated it is necessary to 
administer food in small quantities, otherwise fatal con- 
sequences might ensue ; and notwithstanding they may 
partly regain their wonted vigour in course of time, 
it rarely happens that such sheep ever afterwards appear 
in a perfectly healthy coudition, and in the enjoyment of 
all their faculties. 

•»• The Office of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge H at 
W, Lincoln's Inn Fields. 

LONDON: CHAULES KNIGHT & CO* S3, LUDGATK STRUT, .Wii*iaij Cfcowif uA 8oirt^Stamfocd_Street, 

Digitized by 



or THB 

Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. 



[January 25, 1840. 


[Edward the Fint] 

Many persons imagine, when they see this figure de- 
scribed in the catalogue as Edward I., that it represents 
the form and features of that monarch ; but so far is this 
from being the case, that the very armour with which the 
figure is clothed has been made up piecemeal from several 
different suites, and we believe no part of the dress has 
been proved to have belonged to the king whose name 
appears on the flag above. The fact is, the armour is of 
a date as ancient as the age of Edward I., and was worn 
probably by some of the princes or high nobles of that 
time, and it has been thought desirable, in order to give 
an appearance of individuality to the whole, to affix the 
name of the monarch who reigned at the assumed period 
of its manufacture, so that its age and the times when it 
was worn in all the gloss of its original freshness might 
be recognised at once by the spectator. The chivalrous 
character of the timesof Richard I., John, and the Henries, 
had caused considerable alterations to be made in the 
armour both of the knights and common soldiers, for 
although the latter were still but imperfectly protected from 
the attacks of their enemies, owing to their deficiency of de- 
fensive apparel, they were much more completely armed 
than they had hitherto been; yet armour suited for 
Vol. IX. 

knights, and such as they could do battle in, was so 
expensive, that many knights were compelled to fight 
incompletely equipped, owing to their inability to pur- 
chase the necessary armour. We have an instance of 
this m the reign of Henry II., when of 130 knights will- 
ing to assist Dermod, king of Leinster, in the recovery of 
his kingdom, only 60 possessed coats of mail. In the 
reigns of the Edwards, arms aud armour underwent con- 
siderable alterations and improvements, and it is probable 
that the expense of a full suite of armour was much less 
at this time, though it might be indefinitely increased by 
the additions of ornaments, chasing, &c. It was in the 
reign of the first Edward that the regulation was made 
requiring every man to be armed according to his station 
in life, that is to say, according to the amount of his pro- 
perty both in land and goods ; those who possessed land 
of the value of 15/. and goods to the value of 40 marks, 
being required to have a habergeon (or coat of mail), an 
iron cap, a sword, knife, and horse ; those possessed of 
land of the value of 40 shillings, to have a sword, bow, 
knife, and arrows ; and so on. 

It was in the thirteenth century that jousts and tourna- 
ments appear to have achieved some degree of that splen* 

Digitized by 




[January 25, 

dour for which they afterwards hecame bo popular. These 
amusements appear to have had their origin from the 
military exercises appointed for the instruction of the 
youth who were being educated for the profession of 
arms; but they soon became more serious employments, 
in which Uvea were often lost and innumerable hurts ex- 
perienced. Some of these tournaments often assumed 
the appearance of a real battle, hundreds of warriors being 
engaged on both sides, and the deadly weapons of a con- 
flict for life and death being employed. While we are 
looking upon the assumed figure of Edward I., we may 
recall old Thomas Walsingham's narrative of an adven- 
ture which happened to that monarch, showing the furi- 
ous nature of such tournaments. 

Edward I. was returning from Palestine to England 
through Savoy, wheu the earl of Chabloun (Count de 
Chalons) invited him to a tournament to which himself 
and many other knights were engaged. The king, with 
his followers, amounting to one thousand, accepted the 
challenge, although fatigued by the length of their jour- 
ney, and only half the number of their antagonists. On 
the day appointed both parties met, some on foot, others 
on horseback, and being armed with swords, the engage- 
ment commenced. The earl, a most athletic man, singled 
out the king, and on his approach, throwing away his 
sword, cast his arms about the neck of the monarch, and 
used his utmost endeavour to pull him from his horse. 
Edward, on the other hand, finding the earl would not 
quit his hold, put spurs to his horse, and drew him from 
his saddle hanging to his neck, and then shaking him 
violently, threw him to the ground. The earl having re- 
covered himself, and being remounted, attacked the king 
a second time, but finding himself disabled, gave up the 
contest, acknowledging him to be the conqueror. The 
knights of the earl's party were enraged when they saw 
their leader drawn from his horse, and ran upon the 
English with such violence, that the pastime assumed the 
tumultuous appearance of a battle-field. The English on 
their side repelled force by force : and Edward's archers 
mixing among the knights, cut the girths of the saddles 
or ripped up the bowels of the horses, brought their riders 
to the ground, made them prisoners, and at length drove 
the remainder of the earl's party from the field. 

Such was the excess to which these amusements, 
originally instituted for the purpose of training the young 
nobility in the art of war, were sometimes carried ; and 
so much were their original intents perverted, that at 
length it became necessary to repress them. But this 
is only one instance of the effect of that great characteris- 
tic of the manners of the thirteenth century, — the enthu- 
siasm which seems to have pervaded all classes, and 
which led to bo much of the excess by which the actions 
of that age were distinguished. In war, literature, learn- 
ing, religion, pleasure, dress, sports,— from the highest 
pursuits of man to the most trivial employments, — all 
were carried on with an enthusiasm which, if properly 
directed, might have led to the greatest results, but which, 
perverted as it was to wrong purposes, which the igno- 
rance and barbarism of the age made to appear under a 
false light, only served to carry to excess the ideas which 
had already acquired too much importance. Thus learn- 
ing became pedantry, religion degenerated into supersti- 
tion, and pleasure led to licentiousness ; and there are 
few periods of English history in which we find these 
extremes carried to such excess as in the times of which 
we are speaking. 

But we are straying too far from the object before us, 
the figure of Edward I. ; were we to review the leading 
events of this king's reign, and endeavour to find out 
the means by which they were brought about, or to 
trace the principles which governed the actions of those 
times, we should not only tire the patience of the warder 
who attends us, and teat that of our friends, but 
should very probably perplex even ourselves. But amid 

all the warlike achievements of that active reign, the 
Crusades, the subjugation of the Welsh, the contests with 
Scotland, &c, which appear darkly shadowed forth 
as we gaze on the figure before us, a picture presents 
itself to our mind's eye with almost the vividness of 
reality, and on which we cannot resist the pleasure of 
lingering for a moment, even at the expense of our 
reader's patience. It is a picture of conjugal love and 
female tenderness : — the iron form before us forms part 
of the composition, but his stalwart figure, stretched 
on a couch, appears faint with pain, — pale, weak, and 
haggard from the effects of the poison which an assas- 
sin's weapon has infused into the wound inflicted 
deeply in his flesh ; a female is by his side, her flaxen 
locks fall neglected over her shoulders, her face is pale 
with watching, her eyes moist with tears, and the blue 
veins of her white forehead swelled with anxiety ; but a 
ray of hope now lights up her grief-worn features — she 
kneels before him, she applies her lips to his wound — she 
sucks out the deadly venom ; yes, the poison is extracted, 
and Eleanor joys that the hazard of her own life has pre- 
served that of her king and husband. Among the 
rough scenes which history is but too often obliged to 
depict, we dwell upon such pictures as the above with so 
much pleasure, that they become indelibly impressed 
on the mind, and the affection of Eleanor is remem- 
bered and often recurred to, when events of perhaps 
greater importance are totally forgotten. 


[Prom * Correspondent] 

Without attempting to enter upon an investigation of 
the various causes that appear to have influenced indi- 
viduals in the selection of sites for their habitations, and 
situations to reside in, in many cases, judging from 
present appearances, the causes that must have originally 
influenced the parties in their selection of their places of 
abode no longer appear to exist, or else it seems quite 
clear that little either of taste, convenience, or discretion 
was exercised in those ages that have long since passed 
away. Without quitting our own island in search of 
examples, we cannot sojourn in scarcely any part of the 
country for a period sufficient to become conversant with 
the localities of the inhabitants generally, without ar- 
riving at the conviction that many of the solitary dwell- 
ing-houses, nay sometimes hamlets or whole villages, 
have nothing favourable in their sites, or at least that 
sites decidedly more favourable might have been selected 
than those which they now occupy. I am fully aware 
that circumstances, affecting not only individuals, but 
society generally, have greatly changed in this as well as 
in most other countries; but it is impossible to shut 
one's eyes against the absurdities that are continually 
practised in the rural districts, for there, when the old 
habitations become no longer tenantable on account of 
absolute decay, the new abodes are almost invariably 
erected on the identical sites of the old ones, or in their 
immediate vicinity, without the idea apparently ever 
entering into the heads of the parties of obtaining a new 
and better location. 

Thinking upon this subject has brought to my mind 
a well-authenticated anecdote, which was related to me 
when on a visit to a friend residing close by the place 
where the circumstance occurred. The Great Valley is 
a fine district of country lying to the westward of Phila- 
delphia from 20 to 40 miles, along which the Columbia 
railroad at present passes. One of the early settlers in 
the Great Valley was an Englishman of the name of 
Downing. The principal village, Downing Town, was 
named after him, and numerous descendants of his still 
continue residents in that neighbourhood. Downing, on 
first settling there, built himself a small log dwelling, as 
most of the first settlers do; but after the lapse of 

Digitized by 





& few years, his circumstances had so much improved, 
that he determined upon building a frame house, that 
being always considered a decided mark, in a new 
country, of a settler's getting on in- the world. But 
Downing not having outlived prejudices which he had 
early imbibed in his native country, could not possibly 
think of any other situation for his new building but the 
precise spot that his humble log dwelling occupied, and 
consequently determined to erect the new abode there, 
and nowhere else. It fortunately, as it would seem, hap- 
pened that the new frame building was intended to cover 
considerably more space than the old log one ; hence the 
plan was adopted of surrounding the original one by the 
new frame, thereby allowing Downing and his family 
to reside in their old habitation until the new building 
was roofed in, and some part of it in a condition to be 
immediately occupied. This was actually done; and 
afterwards the log hovel was ejected, stick by stick, to 
the no small amusement of such of his neighbours as 
could not comprehend the feeling upon which their 
neighbour Downing acted. Downing after this con- 
tinued prosperous as before, and finding that some of 
his neighbours had begun to entertain the ambition of 
dwelling in stone houses, and not feeling disposed to be 
left behiud in the march of improvement, determined 
upon substituting a stone dwelling-house for his present 
frame one. But a difficulty here occurred that he pro- 
bably had not thought of, for the plan he proposed for 
his stone building was no larger than the frame one ; 
hence the impossibility of surrounding the frame building 
as he had formerly done the log one. But still he stuck 
firm to his purpose of erecting his third abode upon the 
precise place the first had occupied; to accomplish 
which he adopted an expedient that very few of his 
neighbours would have thought of resorting to. Having 
got all the materials in readiness for his stone building, 
and having provided a temporary shelter for his family 
and household goods, he set the frame building on fire, 
and in less than half an hour there was not a vestige of 
it remaining ! The third residence of Downing in the 
Great Valley was then raised upon the exact site of the 
two former ones : his next and last resting-place was in 
the grave-yard belonging to the Friends* (Quakers') 
meeting-house, near the village of Downing Town, for 
friend Downing was a Quaker. 

In America (I refer not, of course, to the towns and 
early-settled districts), when an adventurer pushes a-head 
into the native forests of that country in search of a loca- 
tion — a place to settle upon— nine times out of ten he is 
influenced in his choice of a situation to erect his rude 
log cabin upon, by the discovery of some spring of pure 
water or some clear and limpid stream. If he is poor, 
water, besides supplying a thousand other wants, wul be 
the common beverage of himself and his family for at 
least several years, or at all events until his own industry 
shall have enabled him to make his own farm produce 
something better, or placed him in a situation to pur- 
chase from others such a beverage as he probably may 
prefer. And even should he happen to be in circum- 
stances that, with ordinary management, will ensure him 
an abundance of the necessaries of life by the time that his 
wild lands can, according to the general order of things, be 
hrought into a state of productiveness, still the immediate 
vicinity of a plentiful and never-failing supply of good 
and wholesome water has to many considerations to re- 
commend it, that few, very few indeed, overlook so 
valuable a privilege. Owing to the greater degree of the 
heat of the climate of that country during the summers, 
the class of Americans that earn their bread by the sweat 
of the brow eonsume large quantities of water, and this 
even in districts where cider has already become tolerably 
abundant: as for malt-liquor, that is not yet suffi- 
ciently abundant in any part of the country to be a com- 
mon beverage, It is, therefore, not only such as are 

members of temperance and cold-water societieo that are 
in the habit of making water a frequent beverage ; for 
even those that still indulge in their daily allowance of 
ardent spirits (indifferent whiskey or more indifferent 
New England rum), consume considerable quantities of 
water ; for though they do not mix or dilute the spirits 
at the time they drink it, they never omit to cool their 
heated mouths and throats by washing it down with an 
immediate draught of cold water. So, for these reasons, 
and, among others, for some I propose presently to adduce, 
throughout the greater part of trie present inhabited ter- 
ritory of the United States we find that whenever a lot 
of land is selected by an adventurous American settler, 
a good spring of water (if there be one on the lot) in- 
duces him to erect his dwelling near it, provided there 
is not some decided obstacle to deter him from so doing. 
But it is not simply for family use that a never-failing 
spring % 'is considered so desirable an object ; for where 
the party has a view of converting the wilderness into a 
dairy-farm at some future period, the idea of building a 
dairy-house in connection with the spring early presents 
itself to him ; for, owing to the hot summers, cool dairy- 
rooms are peculiarly desirable, if not absolutely necessary, 
and the dairy-room never should be very distant from the 
farm-house. Although the peculiar form and plan of the 
dairy-house depends upon various circumstances, the 
situation in which it has to be built, the taste and views 
of the builder, and the labour to be bestowed upon it, yet 
for the most part the common order of farmers usually 
adopt the following : — The well-head of some never-fail- 
ing spring is encompassed by a building of hewn logs 
or stones; the latter being generally preferred where 
they can be conveniently procured ; but frame or boarded 
buildings do not answer well, in consequence of their 
being soon heated by the sun's rays. To be sure, they 
may be shaded by rows of trees, but trees do not grow up 
into shade-trees in a single season. The size of the 
building is generally proportioned to the number of cows, 
but they seldom exceed eighteen or twenty feet in the 
square. The whole of the floor is flagged, or otherwise 
rendered smooth and level, parallel walks being raised a 
few inches above the level of the intermediate spaces, 
which spaces are set apart for rows of milk-pans, which 
are commonly made of tin, and capable of holding six or 
eight quarts each. The head of the spring is raised 
sufficiently (or else the floor of the building is sunk, to 
answer the same purpose), so that the water, when intro- 
duced into one of the channels where the milk-pans are 
deposited, shall flow with a gentle current through every 
other channel in the room, there being openings or com- 
munications between the channels, thereby keeping the 
milk at nearly the low degree of temperature of the 
spring itself; while from the constant current of the cold 
spring-water, the atmosphere is always regular and cool, 
and particularly sweet and untainted. Occasionally the 
dairy-house is not built immediately at the head of the 
spring, but in a situation several feet lower, the water 
being conveyed from the head of the spring in pipes 
placed underground, and entering the building a few feet 
above the level of the floor. It is then tonducted round 
the sides of the dairy-room in shallow troughs, usually 
made of planks, in which the milk-pans are placed in- 
stead of in the channels before spoken of. To be sure, a 
single tier of troughs, though extending entirely round • 
the room, would accommodate no more milk-pans than a 
channel circumscribing the floor of the same apartment, 
but where the water is introduced at the height of four 
feet or more above the floor of the room, without much 
difficulty, and without at all interfering with the interior 
of the room, a second range of troughs may be introduced 
where the extent of the dairy renders such a thing desi- 
rable. This latter plan for the dairy-room is certainly 
more convenient for the persons whose business it is to 
superintend the milk, there being no stooping required in 

Digitized by VjOOQ IC 



[January 35> 

depositing the pans in their proper places, while the whole 
centre of the room is at liberty to be used as a depository 
for dairy utensils, or for whatever else may be considered 

Dairy-houses of this description are of great importance 
to those farmers who. turn their attention generally to 
butter-making; for then it is. desirable that the milk 
should be kept cool and sweet, and in a pure atmosphere, 
by which means the greatest possible quantity of cream is 
given out, and the butter is of the very best quality. , In 
some sections of the. country, however, these spring-houses 
are only used as depositories for such articles as require 
to be kept cool and where the air is pure; for some but- 
ter-makers are m the habit of churning the milk daily, 
just as it is brought in from the cows. The supporters of 
this latter system allege two reasons for adopting their plan 
— one, that they obtain a greater quantity of butter ; and the 
other, that the milk-after churning is a much more valuable 
article for feeding hogs upon than skim-milk, to which 
purpose they are both usually applied. The latter part 
of the argument is generally believed, and in fact fully- 
borne out by every-day experience: but I have good 
reason to believe that as regards the greater quantity of 
butter, no system which has ever yet been introduced in 
the practice of dairying has been found to surpass — nay, 
I doubt, if to equal — that of a compact, cool, cleanly, and 
well ventilated spring-house. 

Notwithstanding there are some few districts that are 
noted for the cheese which they produce, yet on the whole 
it must be admitted that American cheese is greatly in- 
ferior to the cheese manufactured in several of our 
noted cheese counties, the climate of England not being 
subjected to equal extremes of heat aud cold, both of 
which are known to be prejudicial to cheese-making. 
Probably their cheese being of an inferior quality to ours, 
may, in some measure, account for there being a great 
deal less cheese consumed among the Americans than 
among ourselves. But as regards the quality of butter, 
I have no hesitation in saying, that in various parts of 
that extensive continent I have partaken of the very best 
quality of butter that it is possible to conceive. And not- 
withstanding the hot summers, the dairy-women manage 
to deposit in firkins the surplus of their summer's pro- 
duce, which during the subsequent winter is found to 
retain its original fine flavour, without having imbibed 
any peculiar or unpleasant degree of saltness. 

In general the Americans may be said to be great ad- 
mirers of mechanical improvements and new inventions ; 
and this is not to be wondered at where labour is so dear ; 
and hence the eagerness to obtain labour-saving machi- 
nery ; and I know of no implement or utensil in that 
country for which more patents have been taken out than 
the churn. I am not about to attempt a description of 
the various patent churns that have come under my own 
inspection. But of one, however, I shall say a few words, 
from its being very generally adopted in various parts of 
the country ; and from its being worked by a dog, it is 
usually called the dog-churn. A pretty large circular 
wheel is placed not quite horizontally, but inclining ob- 
liquely at a moderate angle. The dog is made to 
walk up the outer circle of this wheel, so that, on the prin- 
ciple of the tread-mill, his weight sets it in motion, and 
his position upon the wheel is such that as it moves from 
under him he finds it necessary to continue walking up 
the inclined plane. This large wheel turns a shaft that 
acts upon another wheel more immediately connected with 
the churn ; for in short it acts in such a manner as to 
put the ' dashers ' in motion within the churn, by which 
the operation of churning is performed. Some dogs be- 
come so reconciled — nay, I may say attached, to this 
species of daily exercise, that they will mount the wheel 
of their own accord, and eagerly enter upon their voca- 
tion* toiling and panting until the operation of churning 
is completed, and they are made to desist from their 

labours. Others require a considerable time to break 
them in, and never become so tractable and trustworthy 
as to be employed unless tied to a post or fastening in- 
tended for such a purpose. It may be remarked, that 
for the most part dogs employed in this way soon become 
fat ; which probably arises from their being well fed, and 
constantly kept on the spot, without being allowed to take 
much exercise, save that upon the wheel during the daily 
process of churning. 

Effects qf Vegetables upon Different Animals.— Hone* 
will not touch cruciferous plants, but will feed on reed 
grasses, amidst abundance of which goats have been known 
to starve ; and these latter again will eat and grow fat on 
the water hemlock, which is a rank poison to other cattle. 
In like manner pigs will feed on henbane, while they are 
destroyed by common pepper ; and the horse, which avoids 
the bland turnip, will grow fat on rhubarb. 

Mistrustfulness of Uncivilized People. — It appears that 
the natives in this part of the river are such outrageous and 
lawless fellows, that they are mistrustful of each other even 
in the smallest communication, and we bad an opportunity 
of seeing how for this was carried. The object of our visit 
was to purchase yams, and our people had succeeded in get- 
ting the villagers to bring some down to the canoes. These 
people, however, had armed themselves either with a gun 
or sword, as well as our own, and had no women among 
them, excepting an old one. Having arrived at the bank 
of the river, the old woman directed all the yams to be 
placed in a row before our people, and in distinct and sepa- 
rate bundles, and the owners to retire to a short distance, 
which order was implicitly obeyed. The purchaser now in- 
spected the bundles, and having selected one to his satisfac- 
tion, which might contain the finest yams, placed what he 
considered to be its value by the side of it, consisting of 
cloth, flints,. &c. The old lady looking on all the time, if, in 
her opinion, it was sufficient to give, she takes up the cloth 
and gives it to the owner of the bundle, and the purchaser 
likewise takes away the yams. But on the contrary, if the 
cloth, or whatever was thus offered by the purchaser, is not 
considered sufficient by the old woman, she allows it to re- 
main a short time, to give him an opportunity of adding 
something else to his offer. If this were not done, the 
owner of the yams was directed by the old woman to take 
them and move them back out of the way, leaving what 
had been offered for them to be taken away also. All this 
was carried on without a word passing between the parties, 
and the purchase of a sufficient number of yams by our 
people occupied three hours. It was something quite novel 
to see two large parties of people bartering commodities in 
this manner ; and the apparent unconcern and determina- 
tion with which the old woman held out, when she considered 
the price offered for the yams not sufficient, was quite 
amusing. She knew our men must have yams ; and with 
an ill grace they added anything to what they had already 
offered. The scene before us was altogether extraordinary. 
Many of the people belonging to the canoes were standiug 
in a group on the bank of the river near them with muskets, 
swords, and spears in their hands ; some with the articles 
with which they were about to make a purchase. A quan- 
tity of yams, arranged in large bundles placed in a row, 
separated them from another group, consisting of 'the vil- 
lagers also armed, and both parties standing at a short dis- 
tance from them, leaving a considerable space between. 
Here was stationed the old woman, who, with no little 
consequence, directed the whole affair by signs, either to her 
own party or ours, not a word being spoken by any one. 
We could not help thinking that everything in the largest 
market we have seen might have been disposed of in the 
time required for purchasing these yams, and that only ten 
days* journey up the river such a market would be found. 
This method of trading must have arisen either from the 
fear of quarrelling or from not understanding each others* 
language, which is difficult to suppose ; but it seems to have 
been instituted by mutual agreement, for both parties quite 
understood how they were to act This is the first time we 
have witnessed it. — Lander's Journal qf an Expedition to 
Explore the Niger. 

Digitized by 





[Arab Family of Algeria. — From a French print by Wachamut. 

Alqrrul, the name given by the French to their posses- 
skw3 in North Africa, comprises that part of the coast 
between Marocco on the west and Tunis on the cast, 
which formerly constituted the Regency of Algier, and in 
antient times the kingdom of Numidia. The coast-line 
stretches about 500 miles from east to west, and the 
country varies in breadth from 200 miles south of the 
coast to a much shorter distance, — at least that was the 
extent of the territory over which the Deys exercised 
their sway. Their government was overthrown nearly 
ten years ago by the French, who have since held mili- 
tary possession of the country.* The maritime power 
of the Deys had been previously broken by Lord Ex- 
mouth, in the naval expedition against Algiers, in 1816 : 
the AJgerine corsairs nave entirely ceased to harass the 
commerce of the Mediterranean, and their flag no longer 
spreads dismay amongst Christian mariners. The at- 
tempts of the French to colonise Algeria have not been 
very satisfactory. Perhaps our neighbours do not possess 
a very large share of the humble qualities which render 
colonization successful; or they have placed too much 
j el i a nee upon the power of the sword, and thus have 
loused the warlike spirit of the native population. Pro- 
bably it will be found that a combination of these causes 
hasprevented them obtaining a firm footing in Africa. 

The native population of Algeria is supposed to amount 
to nearly two millions, consisting of several races more or 
less marked by peculiarities. The Kabyles, Arabs, 
Moors, Cooloolis, and negroes from the interior, what- 
ever may be their differences amongst each other, 
are all united against the invaders of their common 
country. The Kabyles are hardy mountaineers living 
in villages, and are as far advanced in agriculture and 
the common arts as the inhabitants of Southern Europe. 
They amount to one-half the population, and are the 
aborigines of the country ; their Numidian character and 
habits being apparent notwithstanding their partial inter- 
mixture with the various nations that have successively 
conquered this part of Africa. The Kabyles who live 

• No. 174 of the ' Penny Magazine' contains an historical and 
dnenptire account of Algiers, with a view of the city 

on the Little Atlas and near the coast understand Arabic, 
but the remoter tribes know no language but their own. 
The Arabs who occupy the plains, and geuerally live 
under tents, arc the remains of the great immigrations of 
their race from the East, and have generally preserved 
their national features and manners. The Moors consti- 
tute the bulk of the town population, and, as might be 
expected, have in a greater degree amalgamated with the 
people who have successively occupied the country, 
though the Arabic source from whence they spring is 
still strikingly apparent. The other divisions of the po- 
pulation are comparatively unimportant in point of num- 
bers. The Cooloolis are descendants of Turks who mar- 
ried Christian slaves. The Jews are rather numerous 
in the towns. 

Under the most favourable circumstances which could 
be conceived, the attempt to colonise North Africa by 
Europeans must have been attended with serious moral 
difficulties. There are no affinities of religion, habits, or 
ideas to bind together the Frank and Arabic races, so 
that even if the Freuch were not regarded as invaders, 
there would be but little prospect of amalgamation. As 
it is, the Moors, Arabs, and Turks leave the towns on 
the approach of the French, and emigrants from the 
Balearic Islands, Malta, the coast of Italy, Germany, 
and even Switzerland, come in their place. Many of the 
French colonists have adopted the Arabic dress, but no 
instance has occurred in which the Arab has divested 
himself of the costume of his race, and habited himself in 
that of the invaders. The lauguage of the conquered 
people (if we may yet term them such) is not under- 
stood, and this great cause of misapprehension, and often 
of injustice, aggravates their hostility. The children 
only of the lowest classes are permitted by their parents 
to learn the French language. . 

The position of the French in Africa neither resembles 
that of the Spanish, Portuguese, Dutch, or English in 
their attempts to form settlements. The Kabyles and 
Arabs have higher warlike qualities, and are more for- 
midable enemies than the Indians of North and South 
America, the Hottentots, or the timid Hindoos. They 

Digitized by 




[January 25, 

cannot be easily reduced to a servile state, have too high 
a submit to be exterminated, but maintain a hos- 
tile disposition which exhibits itself in sudden aggressions, 
and in constant vigilance that finds its reward in op- 
portunities of vengeance. Thus the merely moral diffi- 
culties of colonization which difference of race interposes 
are increased and almost rendered insurmountable, and 
there is no security for life and property, the essential 
elements of prosperity. How can the cultivator pursue 
his labours with spirit and success if the crops are de* 
stroyed as soon as they ripen, while his life is never free 
from peril ? The Kabyles rush down from their moun- 
tains, or the Arab horsemen sweep across the plain, 
butcher the colonist and his servants, and drive off the 
cattle. They will do this even in sight of the French 
camps ; and often effect their purpose by means which 
it is nearly impossible to baffle. M. Blanqui, who has 
recently visited Algeria, and has made a Report of its 
present condition and prospects to one of the Academies, 
says that the commandant of the camp of Oued 
which is within sight of a garrison of 2500 n 
obliged to have a telescope constantly at his eye 1 
the incursions of marauders on the plains, in urucr w 
send his patrols to drive them off; and it is scarcely safe 
in any part of Algeria to venture out of the towns with- 
out an escort. i 

The presence of the French, or of any other Franks in 
large numbers, even had they come as friends, would 
have occasioned a revolution in the circumstances of the 
natives of Algeria. The free living and expensive 
habits of Europeans are entirely opposite to the spare and 
meagre economy of the Arabs, and the effect of the 
former crowding into the towns has been to raise the 
price of all the necessaries of life ; and thus many of the 
middle classes who lived upon fixed incomes derived from 
property or public offices can no longer maintain them- 
selves in the independence to which they had been accus- 
tomed. Those who held public situations under the 
old government are in the worst condition, as their offices 
have been suppressed, and they have great difficulty in 
obtaining the means of subsistence. As some compen- 
sation for these evils, the state of the lower classes of 
natives is improving ; they are becoming more industrious 
and are earning higher wages without relinquishing their 
parsimonious habits. A savings' bank ought to be es- 
tablished, in which they might deposit their surplus earn- 
ings, though perhaps it may be some time before their 
confidence in such an institution will be sufficiently strong 
to induce them to abandon the practice of burying their 

The shock given to the tenure of property in Algeria has 
spread distress far and wide. Law-suits without end have 
taken place, and the difficulty of doing justice to the litigants 
has been very great. A spirit of wild speculation has 
increased the evil arising from the confusion which has 
more or less affected all titles to property. Houses and 
land have been bought and sold without the purchaser 
ever having seen the property. The government endea- 
voured to repress these proceedings by prohibiting pur- 
chases being made beyond certain limits. Thus the 
towns of Koleah and Blidah, the gardens in which were 
sold before these places were taken, have been surrounded 
by troops, and not one of the purchasers or even a soldier 
has been allowed to enter. As no person takes care of 
the property for which Europeans are paying ground- 
rent, it is neglected, and falls into dilapidation. Surely 
there might be regulations devised which would be 
efficacious, without resorting to such a despotic exercise 
of authority. 

In reading M. Blanqui's Report, we see that the whole 
machinery of society in Algeria is in the greatest dis- 
order; and probably the recent bold incursion of the 
Arabs has had its effect in determining the French to put 
an end to the anarchy which pervades their African pos- 

sessions, by re-constructing a new system of government. 
No expense of blood or treasure will be spared in carry- 
ing their objects into effect. M. Blanqui's scheme of 
" driving off the native rural population and sub- 
stituting an European one" is popular, and experience 
hat shown the French that the Arabs cannot be 
made serviceable in the cultivation of the soil. On the 
first occupation of Algeria, however, the Arabs offered to 
work for lower wages than Europeans, and the services 
of the latter being very generally rejected, many were 
sent to France in a state of destitution, and others died in 
despair and misery. But the hope of profiting by the 
Arabs has proved delusive, and those colonists who do 
retain a few in their employment dare not permit them to 
sleep under their roof on account of their treacherous 
disposition. Generally speakimr. the attemnts to culti- 
vate the soil have not succ i few rich 
colonists have fortified and m-houses. 
Grazinor has been the favourite department ot Husbandry ; 
colonists have not concentrated 
mutual protection, they have 

i ne jLuropean agriculturists consist chiefly of Spaniards, 
Germans, and Italians, and it is singular that but few of 
the French have directed their iudustry to agriculture. 
M. Blanqui recommends that land should be sold to 
them at a low price, on condition of their concentrating 
themselves into parties capable of defending their pro- 
perty. Even the risk of being murdered by the Kabyles 
or Arabs has failed to prevent the dispersion of the 
colonists. M. Blanqui would not grant land to the in- 
digent, as that would render it necessary for the govern- 
ment to make advances of stock, which, he remarks, but 
too often serves to encourage idle habits. " Isolation and 
the casting of the anchor in the wide sea must at all 
events be avoided ;" but it is doubtful whether this re- 
commendation is not solely founded upon considerations 
relating to the personal safety of the colonists. We do 
not perceive any allusion in his Report to that principle 
of colonization on which we have recently begun to act, 
and which is designed to establish the most desirable 
proportion between capital and labour. M. Blanqui 
would have the colonists disciplined like an army. 

Algeria, we may be certain, has not been destitute of 
men, so common in all new colonies, who pursue the 
most unlikely schemes for acquiring wealth. Their 
labours, it is true, are not without value, though for a 
time they add nothing to the. general wealth. Cultivation 
was scarcely practicable in Algeria beyond the reach of 
gun-shot of forts or encampments ; but the system pur- 
sued under these disadvantageous circumstances was bad 
in itself. Indigo, pepper, cloves, cinnamon, and nutmegs 
have been tried, but have not succeeded, and can never 
be profitably cultivated. The cotton-plant does not 
answer, and it is useless to attempt to produce sugar and 
coffee. Attempts to naturalise the plants of Guiana have 
failed. On the other hand, the mulberry, the vine and olive, 
the orange, lemon, and banana succeed remarkably well ; 
and tobacco thrives most luxuriantly, having been cut 
down in some parts like hay, and been followed by second 
crops as vigorous as the first. The Cerealia are wheat, 
barley, Indian corn, millet, durra, and rice. This part 
of Africa was celebrated for its fertility in ancient times; 
and wherever irrigation is practicable, the returns are 

There is yet one other obstacle to the progress of 
agriculture in Algeria, in addition to those which 
are rather of a moral nature — and this is, the present in- 
salubrity of some of the most fertile districts. In the 
plain of Metidja, which is the " promised land" of the 
colony, all new settlers are sure to be attacked with fever, 
and the mortality has been very great ; so much so that 
it has not been deemed prudent to risk the health of the 
troops by establishing camps or posts amongst the colo- 

Digitized by 





mats; and those whom disease had spared hare generally 
been murdered by the Arabs. M. Blanqui thinks that it 
will be impossible for colonists to establish themselves in 
the Metidja until it be rendered healthy by draining, a 
work which he would effect at the public expense. 
Lastly, we must take into account the natural defects of 
the country, the principal one perhaps being a want of 
rivers. Traffic, intercourse, and civilization are alike 
impeded in consequence of the absence of these channels 
of communication. Water is scarce in some districts, 
and timber is not abundant. 


There are several articles in former volumes of the 
* Penny Magazine ** relating to the management of bees, 
and to the mode of gathering the honey from the hives ; 
these, taken collectively, convey a good deal of informa- 
tion on those subjects. In the present paper we shall 
consider the nature and proporties of honey, and the uses 
to which it is applied after being removed from the 

a Honey," says Dr. A. T. Thomson, " is either smooth 
and homogeneous, like syrup, or it consists of brilliant 
granular crystals, dispersed through a clear uncrystalli- 
zable fluid ; the colour varies from pure white to a deep 
brownish-yellow ; its odour is somewhat aromatic ;• its 
taste sweet, sharp, and slightly acidulous. When long 
kept, honey acquires a deeper colour, and more sharpness 
of flavour and taste. It is completely soluble in water, 
but only partially in alcohol, which takes up the fluid or 
syrupous part, and leaves the crystallizable untouched." 

Much has been written on the subject of bees ; but it 
is not yet known how far the honey receives any of its 
peculiar properties within the body of the bee, or whether 
all of those properties are possessed by the juice before 
the insect gathers it. To understand this part of the 
subject, we must consider the mode in which the bee 
gathers the honey. Both the honey and the wax are pro- 
cured from the flowers of plants ; and it is believed that 
the honey is a sweet juice secreted in little vesicles, or 
glands, situated near the base of every petal. The bee 
inserts a kind of trunk into the vesicle, and gathers the 
juice in small drops, which are then deposited on the 
tongue : from thence it is conveyed to the oesophagus at 
the back of the mouth; a long canal leading from thence 
to a kind of bag or stomach where the juice is deposited. 
Now, the pant of dispute among Apiarists is, whether or 
not, and to what extent, the juice is modified in the 
stomach of the bee. Leaving this question for future 
observers to decide, we will merely describe the manner, 
according to Mr. Polhill, in which the bee gets rid of his 
cargo of honey. The bee comes loaded to the cell, thrusts 
his head very deep into it, and discharges the honey from 
the bag, or secondary stomach, through the mouth. One 
bee succeeds another till the whole cell is filled. It ap- 
pears that the bee first forms a crust or casing, with a 
honey thicker than common ; the object of this seems to 
he to keep the body moist, and to prevent its running out 
by any accident ; for every fresh cargo of honey is de- 
posited under instead of over this crust. The bee, when 
he comes loaded to the cell, does not at once discharge 
the honey into it, but entering into the cell as deep as 
possible, puts forward the anterior pair of legs, and with 
them pierces a hole through the crust or cream. While 
this hole is kept open by the feet, the bee disgorges the 
honey in large drops from the mouth; these, falling 
into the hole made by the feet, mix with the mass below ; 
and the bee, before it flies off", remodels the crust, and 
closes up the hole ; this is regularly done by every bee 
that contributes to the general store of the cell. 

• 'Penny Magazine,* vol. iii., p, 11; vol if.,' pp. 64-190; 
vol. rii., pp. 146, 171, 400, 408, 

* Whether or not the juice or houey undergoes any 
change in the body of the insect, it is reasonable to sup- 
pose that it derives various qualities according to the 
flowers from whence it is taken. Such is found to be 
the case. The finest flavoured honey, called virgin 
honey, is that which has been collected from aromatic 
plants, and has been deposited in clean new cells. It has 
been asserted that the finest honey produced in Europe is 
that at Narbonne, and that it derives its excellence from 
the rosemary that abounds in the neighbourhood; but 
the peasants are said to have withdrawn their attention 
from bee-keeping in order to attend to their vineyards. 
Honey is also of good quality when the bees procure it 
from thyme or lavender ; but it is bad when procured 
from buck-wheat. Xenophon speaks of the poisonous 
qualities of a species of honey procured in Asia ; and 
Tournefort, two thousand years afterwards, concluded 
from observations which he made that the honey in ques- 
tion must have been procured from the flowers of the 
Rhododendron Ponticum and Azalea Pontica, two beau- 
tiful but poisonous plants which cover the mountainous 
district of Asia Minor. Poisonous honey is found in 
many parts of the world, and its effects on the system 
show tnemseives in vertigo, nausea, and delirium ; while 
good honey, especially when new, acts as a laxative. But 
even good honey affects the system differently according 
to the district whence the bees derive it. The heather 
honey of Scotland is said to agree well with many per- 
sons who would suffer from even tasting the fine honey of 

As to the consistence of honey, we may state that when 
it is taken from the honeycomb it is in a fluid state, but 
gradually thickens by age ; and in cold weather there is 
deposited, if the quality be good, a firm and solid mass of 
honey, which is of more value than the softer portion 
which rises to the top. In England honey has seldom 
been known to assume a solid state while in the hives ; 
and even out of them, if it remain in the combs, it will 
preserve its fluidity, clearness, and fine flavour for at least 
a year, if not exposed to a low temperature. The 
honey of hot climates is always in a fluid state. 

The agreeable sweetness of honey is known to every 
one. It is sometimes used instead of sugar to sweeten 
various culinary preparations. It is also used instead of 
butter, spread on bread. Honey is one of the ingredients 
in that useful medicine oxymel of squills, the nature of 
which we may briefly describe. The squill is the bulb 
of a plant found on the shores of the Mediterranean ; it 
is of an oval form, and is composed of fleshy concentric 
scales covered with a thin brown coat. From these bulbs 
is prepared acetum scillce, or vinegar of squills. A 
pound of the squill bulb is dried, and steeped in six pints 
of dilute acetic acid ; the steeping is effected in a close 
glass vessel, aided by heat, and continues for twenty-four 
hours. When the dregs have subsided, half a pint of 
proof spirit is added to the liquor. Lastly, to make 
oxymel scillce, or oxymel of squills, three pounds of cla- 
rified honey are boiled in a glass vessel over a slow fire 
in two pints of the vinegar of squill. The action of 
oxymel of squill upon the system is as an expectorant, 
for which, in small doses, it is very useful. 

Honey is also used medicinally under the names of 
mtl boracis (honey of borax), mel rosce (honey of roses), 
oxymel simplex (simple oxymel). The first is borate of 
soda mixed with honey ; the second is prepared from 
honey, red rose petals, and boiling water ; and the third 
is clarified honey boiled in dilute acetic acid. These are 
principally useful in complaints in the mouth and 

The use of honey as one of the ingredients in drink is 
of very ancient date. When fermented, honey-water 
obtains the name of mead, which is, in fact, honey- wine : 
indeed the Germans call it by that name (Honigwein). 
Mead is said to have been the principal beverage of the 

Digitized by 




[January 25, 1840. 

Britons before the use *f malt liquor among them ; and 
long after the introduction of the latter beverage, mead 
was a favourite drink. Under the name of metheglin 
it was frequently alluded to by old writers. Dryden has 
a couplet : — 

" T* allay the strength and hardness of the wine 
Let with old Bacchus new Metheglin join.* 1 

Queen Elizabeth was so fond of mead, as to have had 
it made every year for her. Her receipt for it has been 
preserved, and is given by Dr. Bevan, in his interesting 
little volume on the Honey Bee : — Take of sweet-briar 
leaves and thyme each one bushel ; rosemary half a 
bushel, bay leaves one peck. Seethe these ingredients in 
a furnace full of water (containing probably not less than 
120 gallons) : boil for half an hour : pour the whole 
into a vat, and when cooled to a proper temperature 
(about 15° Fahr.), strain. Add to every six gallons of 
the strained liquor a gallon of fine honey, and work the 
mixture together for half an hour. Repeat the stirring 
occasionally for two days ; then boil the liquor afresh, 
skim it till it becomes clear, and return it to the vat to 
cool : when reduced to a proper temperature, pour it into 
a vessel from which fresh ale or beer has just been 
emptied ; work it for three days, and tun. When fit to 
be stopped down, tie up a bag of beaten cloves and 
mace (about half an ounce of each) and suspend it in 
the liquor from the bung-hole. When it has stood for 
half a year, it will be fit for use. Such was the re- 

In Wales, in ancient times, mead was held in very 
high repute ; as appears from an ancient law, which has 
been given by Dr. Bevan, that — " There are three 
things in court which must be communicated to the king 
before they are made known to any other person : 1st, 
every sentence of the judge; 2nd, every new song; 
3rd, every cask of mead." The mead-maker was the 
eleventh person in dignity at court, and took precedence 
of the physician. Besides the preparation of mead, our 
forefathers were accustomed to flavour their usual grape 
wines with honey and other ingredients. There were 
two kinds of spiced wines in use in England in the 
thirteenth century, called Hippocras and Clarry. The 
first consisted either of white or red wine, and the latter 
of claret, both mingled with honey and spices. Dr. 
Henderson, in his * History of Wines* speaks of a receipt 
still existing, which gives directions how " to make ypo- 
crasse for lords with gynger, synaraon, and graynes, 
sugour, and turesoll : and for corny n pepulj, gynger, 
canell, longe peper, and claryflyed hony." 

Mead formed the nectar of the Scandinavian nations, 
and was celebrated by their bards : it was the drink which 
they expected to quaff in heaven out of the skulls of 
their enemies ; and was, as might be expected, liberally 
patronised on earth. 

The northern nations of Europe have still retained a 
fondness for mead, or for some similar beverage made 
from honey. Dr. Granville tells us, in his c Journey to 
St. Petersburg,' that he met in the Etreets of that city a 
man carrying, partly under his arm and partly fastened 
round his waist, a brass jar, carefully enveloped with 
flannel bandages, and having a spout with a brass cock 
at its upper end. He appeared to be distributing to the 
passengers some hot liquor in tumblers, which he kept 
in a species of trough affixed in front of his dress, and 
covered by a short apron. This man was called a 
Sbiteustchick, and the liquor which he sold, Sbiteue. 
Dr. G. accosted the man, and had a tumbler-full of the 
liquor, which he describes as having an agreeable taste, 
not unlike that of very sweet tea. On inquiry of the 
man, it was found to be prepared thus : — Eighteen pounds 
of honey are mixed with fifty quarts of hot water ; this 
mixture, to which pepper is added by some, is drunk hot, 
with the further addition of boiling milk, which the 

seller carries : about with him in another good-sized 

It is evident that this beverage is very little other than 
hydromel, or honey-water, a simple drink often used in 
other countries. Sometimes refuse honey-combs are 
washed in water, after as much honey as possible has 
been extracted from them, and the water boiled for some 
time : it is tunned as soon as cold, bunged down in three 
or four days, and drunk a few weeks afterwards. In 
some parts of Wales, the refuse combs are brewed with 
malt, spices, &c, and the produce is called Braggot. A 
simple summer beverage is often made by mixing honey 
with acidulated water. 

But mead differs from all these : mead is really a 
wine, and has undergone the process of fermentation. 
As it may be interesting to those who keep bees to know 
the manner in which mead is, in our own day, produced 
from honey, we will give a description from Dr. Bevan, 
the latest with which we are acquainted on the subject : 
— " To those who approve of its flavour, I recommend the 
following direction, which I have successfully followed 
for several years, having my home-made wines enriched 
with a considerable portion of foreign flavour :< — Dissolve 
an ounce of cream of tartar in five gallons of boiling 
water ; pour the solution off clear upon twenty pounds of 
fine hotley ; boil them together, and remove the scum as 
it rises. Toward the end of the boiling add an ounce of 
fine hops; about ten minutes afterwards, put the liquor 
into a tub to cool. When reduced to the temperature of 
70° or 80° Fahr., according to the season, add a slice of 
bread toasted and coated over with a very little yeast : 
the smaller the quantity the better, for yeast invariably 
spoils the flavour of wines ; and where there is a suf- 
ficiency of extractive matter in the ingredients employed, 
it should never be introduced : if fermented in wooden 
vessels, none is required. The liquor should now stand 
in a warm room, and be stirred occasionally. As soon 
as it begins to carry a head, it should be tunned, and the 
cask filled up from time to time from the reserve, till the 
fermentation has nearly subsided. It should now be 
bunged down, leaving open a small peg-hole ; in a few 
days this may also be closed, and in about twelve months 
the wine will be fit to bottle." 

The other modes in which honey may be brought to 
use need not occupy our attention. 

Praise or Censure. — Speak not in high commendation of 
any man to his face, nor censure any man behind his back ; 
but if thou knowest anything good of him, tell it unto 
others; if anything ill, tell it privately and prudently to 
himself. — Burkitt. 

Depopulating Effects of Heathenism. — Hervey's Island, 
from which the group takes its name, is really composed of 
two small islets, 19° 18' S., 158° 46' W. long. It was dis- 
covered by Captain Cook, and by him named in honour of 
Captain Hervey, R.N., one of the lords of the Admiralty, 
and afterwards Earl of Bristol. It is surrounded by a reef, 
into which there is no entrance. I visited it in 1823, in- 
tending to place a native teacher there, as I expected to find 
a considerable population ; but on learning that, by their 
frequent and exterminating wars, they had reduced them- 
selves to about sixty in number, I did not fulfil my intention. 
Some six or seven years after this I visited the same island 
again, and found that this miserable remnant of the former 
population had fought so frequently and so desperately, 
that the only survivors were five men, three women, and 
a few children; and at that time there was a contention 
among them as to which should be king ! — Rev. John 9Vtl- 
liams's Missionary Enterprises. 

• • The Office of the Society for Che Diffusion of Useful Knowledge is at 
59, Lincoln'* Inn Field*. 

Printed by WpAjA* Clowis 3c Son ■, Stamford-Street, 

Digitized by 


#*<mtf)l!> Stayplemntt of 



Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. 


December 31, 1839, to January 31, 1840. 



[January — From an Anglo-Saxon Calendar.] 

Wb here preient the first of a series of papers, to be con- 
tinued monthly in our Supplementary numbers, the 
object of which is to give a popular view of that subject 
in which, above all others, we are the most deeply con- 
cerned, namely, British Agriculture. This assertion can 
need but little proof, for it is evident that we are not 
only indebted to its operations for the greater part of our 
food, and for no inconsiderable portion of our clothing, 
but in a great measure also for the raw material of our 
gigantic woollen manufacture. To our Agricultural 
readers such a subject, if properly treated, must be in- 
teresting. We hope to make it no less so to all those who 
do not belong to that class. Historically viewed, the 
progress of Agriculture exhibits the progress of the popu- 
lation in comfort, and thus foms one of the most im- 
portant chapters in the History of National Manners. 
Agriculture, too, has its poetical aspects ; and even when 
the science of agriculture was in a much less flourishing 
condition than it is at present, the pastoral life of the 
farmer was considered among the happiest conditions in 
which man could be placed. The ordinary farmer is no 
speculator ; he does not enter into wild and ambitious 
schemes which we may daily see practised in trade and 
commerce ; hence he never lays his head upon his pillow 
under the painful apprehension that some change in state 
aflairs, or some untoward freak of fortune, may render 
all his schemes abortive, and reduce him to a state of 
beggary before the sun goes down on the morrow. His 

chief aim and ambition is to live independent of the 
world ; to be able to defray, with the fruits of his own 
industry, all just demands that may be brought against 
him ; and, possessing the means of accomplishing this, 
he would not exchange conditions with the rulers of the 
land. But the farmer possesses one advantage which 
he probably does not estimate at its full value. It is his 
fortunate lot to inhale the pure uncontaminated breeze as 
it rolls in upon our island shores, and bearing on its balmy 
wings that inestimable treasure, health — a boon that 
pampered luxury seldom falls heir to, and whose value 
is beyond all arithmetical computation. Who is there 
that ever attempted to deny the charms of a country life ? 
May we not daily see the man of business toiling through 
the best portion of his existence, in order, as the evening 
of life draws on, that he may be enabled to lay aside the 
cares and anxieties attendant on a business life ? Aud of 
those who are so fortunate as not to be disappointed in 
accomplishing the views they set out with, where is it 
that they look for the evening of their lives to close ? 
Certainly not amidst the noise, the bustle, the turmoil, the 
smoke, and the noisome exhalations and impurities con- 
sequent upon a dense population ; but in — and the word 
has ever exercised a magical influence over them — in the 
country. Nearly all our poets have also dilated upon the 
subject ; but we can make room for an extract from one 
only, as faithful as it is beautiful. 

Digitized by 




[January 31, 


" Sweet country life, to such unknown, 

"Whose lives are others', not their own ; 

But, serving courts and cities, be 

Less happy, less enjoying thee. 

Thou never plou^h\^t the ocean's foam 

To seek and bring enough pepper home: 

Nor to the Eastern Ind dost rove 

To bring from thence the scorched clove; 

Nor, with the loss of thy loved rest, 

Bring'st home the ingot from the West : 

No, thy ambition's manter-piece 

Flies no thought higher than a fleece ; 

Or how to pay thy hinds, and clear 

All scores, and so to end the year: 

But walk'st about thine own dear bounds. 

Not euvying others' larger grounds; 

For well thou know'st, 'tis not the extent 

Of land makes life, but sweet content: 

When now the cock, the ploughman's horn, 

Calls forth the lilywristed morn, 

Then to thy corn-fields thou dost go, 

Which though well soiled, yet thou dost know 

That the best compost for the lands 

Is the wise master's feet and hands ; 

There at the plough thou find'bt thy team, 

With a hind whistling there to them ; 

And cheer'st them up, by siuging how 

The kingdom's portion is the plough : 

Tins done, then to th* enamell'd meads 

Thou go'st, and as thy foot there treads, 

Thou see'st a present God-like power 

Imprinted in each herb and flower ; 

And sraell'st the breath of great-ly'd kine, 

Sweet as the blossoms of the vine ; 

Here thou behold'st thy large sleek neat 

Into the dew-laps, up in meat ; 

And as thou look'tt the wantou steer, 

The heifer, cow, and ox draw near, 

To make a pleasing pastime there : 

These seen, thou go'st to view thy flocks 

Of sheep, safe from the wolf and fox, 

And find'at their bellies there as full 

Of short sweet grass, as backs with wool, 

And leav'st them, as they feed and fill, 

A shepherd piping on a hill. 

For sports, for pageantry, and plays, 

Thou hast thy eves and holydays, 

On which the young men and maids meet 

To exercise their dancing feet, 

Tripping the comely country round, 

With daffodils and daisies crown'd. 

Thy wakes, thy quiutels, here thou hast, 

Thy May-poles too with garlands grae'd, 

Thy morris-dan a*, thy Whitsun-ale, 

Thy sheeriug-feast, which never fail, 

Thy harvest-home, thy was -ail bowl, 

That's tost up* after fox i' th' hole, 

Thy mummeries, thy twelfth-tide kings 

And queens, thy Christmas revellings, 

Thy nut-brown mirth, thy russet wit, 

And no man pays too dear for it : 

To these thou hast thy times to go 

And trace the hare i' th' treacherous snow; 

Thy witty wiles to draw, and get 

The lark into the trammel net ; 

Thou hast thy cockrooch and thy glade 

To take the precious pheasant made ; 

Thy lime-twigs, snares, and pit-falls there 

To catch the pilfering birds, not men. 

O happy life ! if that their good 

The husbandmen but understood ; 

Who all the day themselves do please, 

And younglings with such sports as these; 

And, lying down, have nought t* affright 

Sweet sleep, that makes more short the night."* 

January, of all the months of the year, is the season 
•when vegetation, in our climate at least, may be considered 
to be in its most dormant state. Our seasons, however, 
vary so remarkably, that it happens on some occasions that 
even this, which has a right to be considered the coldest 
month of the year, presents us with green fields, and im- 
parts to our gardens and pleasure-grounds all the appear- 
ances of returning spring. But it too frequently happens 
when such is the case — when a premature display of 

? Robert Herrick's < Hebrides,' 1648. 

young shoots and budding flowers has been called forth 
by the unusual mildness of the autumn, — that bitter 
blasts and biting frosts ensue, to the complete annihila- 
tion of every tender bud and blade, — and the natural 
consequence is, that when the mild breezes of spring 
return in their ordinary course, the injury done to the 
young plants that had put forth their unseasonable shoots 
will be but too apparent, and the injurious effect will, in 
all probability, continue through the whole of the ensu- 
ing season. Sometimes, however, the winter— 

— — " A winter such as when birds die 
In the deep forests, and the fishes lie 
Stiffened in the translucent ice ; which makes 
Even the mud and slime of the warm lakes 
A wrinkled clod as hard as brick ; and when 
Among their children, comfortable men 
Gather about great fires, and yet feel cold f* — 

will set in long before either the husbandman or gardener 
expected it; and in this case, like the previous one, 
much injury commonly ensues to agriculture. For when 
this happens, the farmer's late crops may be seriously in- 
jured ; while the more delicate plants and shrubs, which 
require the gardener's protection during the more severe 
part of the season, are taken unawares, and fall a sacrifice 
to the inclemency of the weather. It is a well authen- 
ticated fact, that in this island the winters, on the whole, 
are much milder than formerly. Indeed, if we refer 
back to the chronological account of past times, we shall 
there find recorded seasons of frost, of a continuance and 
intensity far beyond anything that has occurred of late 
years ; and it may not be out of place to inform the 
reader, that the winter of 1739 and 1740 — just a cen- 
tury ago— was one of the most severe seasons that we find 
upon record. 

Although horticulture (the art of cultivating gardens) 
does not absolutely belong to an agricultural subject 
taken in the abstract, yet it is so closely connected under 
the improved system of agriculture — where our most 
highly cultivated farms assume a garden-like appearance, 
while our extensive market-gardens stretch over large 
fields and enclosures — that should anything remark- 
able occur in connection with the latter, it can hardly be 
considered a departure from our professed object in this 
series of papers, should horticultural notices occasionally 
be introduced. Indeed, in connection with our towns 
and cities, the members of the whole community are more 
or less interested in anything that materially affects the 
market-gardens; for since no iuconsiderable portion of 
the daily supply of the common necessaries of life is 
derived from that source, the people would only be 
affected in a precisely similar way — though, perhaps, to 
a somewhat greater extent — if some dire misfortune should 
happen to the crops of the farmer. Some of our readers 
will recollect the late frosts that occurred about the middle 
of the month of May last, when the gardens (particularly 
the fruit-gardens) around the metropolis suffered very 
severely. The consequence was, that both early fruit 
and vegetables, owing to their scarceness, were consider*- 
ably enhanced in value, whereby the whole body of con- 
sumers were more or less affected. 

Having spoken of the bad effect of seasons falling out 
of season, — something may be said regarding the state of 
the weather during the greater part of the past autumn, 
because the effect, viewed prospectively, likely to result 
therefrom, may already be pretty well ascertained. In 
many districts of the country where the land lies low, 
the streams and rivers were so swollen during Novem- 
ber and December, that much ground intended for a 
wheat crop remains unsown at the present time. Hence 
it is calculated, that should all the wheat in the ground 
yield a full average crop at next harvest-time, there is 
reason to believe that a considerable deficiency may be 
the probable consequence. This may turn out a greater 

* Shelley's ' Miscellaneous Poems— Summer and Winter/. 

Digitized by 





misfortune to the community at large than to those far- 
mers who have been placed in this situation; because 
the probable deficiency may have the effect of raising the 
price of wheat in that degree, that the portion of their 
farms they had managed to get the seed into may yield 
them something like an equal profit with what the whole 
would have done, provided there had been a general full 
crop. Moreover, the land upon which it had been their 
intention to sow wheat will now be sown with barley, or 
planted with some other crop; and although none of 
these may turn so profitable as a wheat-crop would have 
done, yet the loss, even upon such lands, will thus be 
considerably reduced. One thing, however, ought to be 
borne in mind, for in agriculture it is well understood — 
that when a farmer is under the necessity of altering his 
system of crops, even for a single season, it deranges his 
whole plan for several succeeding years. 

Having mentioned this, it may be as well to state in 
this place, that in all the districts where agriculture is in 
the most flourishing condition, regular systems of crop- 
ping have been established, and these rotations of crops 
are scarcely ever departed from, except for the sake of 
trying some experiment, or from some such cause as the 
one already mentioned. Whether these systems are in- 
variably the best that possibly could exist i.s a question 
which need not here be discussed. Indeed some of them 
seem to be founded altogether upon the principle of 
keeping the soil from becoming impoverished by the im- 
provident or too anxious farmer. So that to compel far- 
mers to crop or cultivate their lands after a certain 
fashion, when the lease of the farm is drawn up, a clause 
is inserted which binds the tenant to pursue a particular 
system or rotation of crops. Yet, notwithstanding this, 
there has been nothing like a general and universal sys- 
tem adopted, for two reasons, principally, — first, that there 
are so many different qualities of soil, and such a diversity 
of situations, and the means of procuring suitable manure 
vary so materially, that to raise similar crops in differ- 
ent situations would require a twofold outlay of labour 
and capital in the one to what would be required in the 
other ; and, secondly, even among those who rank among 
the leading agriculturists of the present day, there is, 
upon many points, such a diversity of opinion with 
regard to systems of cropping certain sorts of land, that 
the practice we find generally prevailing in one section of 
country will, probably, scarcely be known anything of 
by the farming community generally at the distance of 50 
or 100 miles. 

There are numerous districts in Great Britain, par- 
ticularly in those parts where wheaten bread is not com- 
monly used, but bread or cakes made of rye, barley, or 
oats, that some thirty or thirty-five years ago did not 
produce a single blade of wheat. In fact, the inhabitants 
would almost as soon have thought of raising a crop of 
rice, or any other outlandish production, as a wheat-crop ; 
but where, of late years, very good crops of wheat have 
been raised in the place of indifferent oats and that coarse 
epecies of barley commonly known by the name of big. 
The parties who were the first to attempt the culture of 
wheat, in the districts alluded to, were invariably laughed 
at and ridiculed; and, probably feeling a doubt of ulti- 
mate success, those early experiments were made upon a 
small scale, and with wheat sown early in the spring. 
Finding, however, that by careful management they in- 
variably obtained tolerable crops of this inferior sort of 
grain, they were encouraged to go more into the regular 
management of cultivating wheat-crops; when, to the 
utter astonishment, as well as the no little disappoint- 
ment of their scoffing neighbours, it became satisfactorily 
proved that very fair crops of wheat might be grown ; 
and thus several of the districts alluded to have ever since 
continued to extend the cultivation of this most valuable 

It is not, however, every quality of soil that is adapted 

to the growth of wheat ; neither is it in every situation 
that wheat-crops would arrive at maturity, owing to the 
bleakness or the great elevation ; for, should the soil be 
favourable, the altitude above the level of the sea may be 
such, even in our own island, that there would be but 
little chance of its arriving at maturity before the tempes- 
tuous autumnal weather came on ; when, in our humid 
atmosphere, vapours, clouds, and rains greatly infest 
our hill-districts ; so that in those situations where it is 
considered desirable to introduce the plough at all, oats, 
from their hardier nature, are sown in preference to any 
other sort of grain. 

In the dales and valleys among several of our moun- 
tain ranges we frequently meet with a succession of small 
grass-farms where the plough never comes, and where 
the only part of the soil cultivated is a small patch of 
potato-ground, which is invariably dug with the spade. 
To be sure, it often happens that the enclosed ground on 
such dale-farms is so steep that ploughing would be a 
very difficult operation ; hence they are ever kept under 
grass — grass the spontaneous growth of the soil, of 
which the crops they yield are usually light. It may be 
remarked, however, that, even in many such situations, 
it is quite apparent that at some unknown but very 
distant period the plough has certainly been used, for 
there are still the remains of dim furrows, in such regular 
order and to so great an extent, that nothing but the 
plough could possibly have made them. At what precise 
period this took place we have little to guide us beyond 
conjecture, although undoubtedly there must have existed 
some powerful reason for cultivating ground that could 
not be done but with great difficulty, and at an expense 
which, in our days, would ill requite the farmer who 
should attempt it. 

It has already been observed that, of all the months in 
the year, this is peculiarly the one in which the ground 
is suffered to rest. Indeed, in what may be considered 
favourable seasons for agriculture generally, the intensity 
of the frost is such that the plough is laid aside until a 
more convenient season. However, on arable farms 
there is seldom any long period of the year that the 
plough is altogether idle; nothing but the extreme 
wetness of the ground by a continuance of rain, or hard 
frosts, or a considerable covering of snow, prevents the 
ploughman from exercising his calling upon one part 
or other of the farm; for where a specific quantity of 
work has to be performed by a limited number of teams, 
horses or oxen, it becomes a matter of simple calculation 
to arrive at the amount of time that may be devoted to 
other affairs, without interfering with the more regular 
management of the ploughing department ; for where the 
principal, whether it be the farmer himself, his bailiff, or 
head ploughman, is aware of the number of acres under 
tillage, and what portion of the whole is intended for each 
sort of grain, green-crop, or fallow, he can calculate 
pretty correctly the amount of team-work that will have 
to be bestowed upon each, and therefore arrive at the 
amount of spare time (time not taken up in ploughing, 
harrowing, &c.) during the ensuing season. Something, 
however, depends upon the nature of the season itself; 
for where the soil is naturally of a cold and moist nature, 
and the spring and early part of summer happen to be 
rainy, then not only will the ordinary plough- work be 
somewhat retarded, but on those parts where weeds and 
grass-roots had to be destroyed by the usual means uf 
fallowing, it may happen that one or two extra plough ings 
will be necessary before the desired effect can be pro- 
duced. Several other instances might be given of causes 
that might operate to increase farm labour; but this 
will suffice to show that it may happen that during this 
month the plough may or may not be advantageously 
put in operation, and yet without any material hurt or 
prejudice to the general interests of farming. 

Among our Saxon ancestors, however, who sowed their 

Digitized by 

Go F dgh 



[January 31, 

wheat in ths spring, this month was one of the busiest of 
the year, and generally used for the purposes of ploughing ; 
and accordingly, in more than one of the Saxon calendars, 
it is given to represent the character of this month. One 
of these representations has been placed at the head of 
this article.* Oxen were then used for agricultural pur- 
poses, the use of horses being forbidden. But although 
there was 6ome division of employment, seed-time and 
harvest formed the two great periods of exertion, and 
there were but few agricultural operations to mark the 
characters of the other periods of the year. This will be 
seen from the following list of the illustrations in one 
of those Calendars. 

In January are men ploughing with four oxen ; one 
drives, another holds the plough, and another scatters 

In February men are represented as cutting or pruning 
trees, of which some resemble vines. 

In March one is digging, another is with a pickaxe, 
and a third is sowing. 

In Apiil three persons are pictured as sitting and 

drinking, with two attendants ; another is pouring out 
liquor into a horn ; and another is holding a horn to his 

In May a shepherd is sitting ; his flocks are about, 
and one man has a lamb in his arms ; other persons are 
looking on. 

In June some are reaping with a sickle, and some 
putting the corn into a cart. A man is blowing a horn 
while they are working. 

In July they are felling trees. 

In August they are mowing. 

In September is a boar-hunting. 

In October is hawking. 

In November a smithery is shown. 

In December two men are threshing, others are carry- 
ing the grain in a basket ; one has a measure, as if to 
ascertain the quantity ; and another, on a notched stick, 
seems to be marking what is measured and taken away. 

We also give another illustration from a Saxon MS.,* 
which shows nearly all the agricultural processes for the 

[Ploughing, Sowing, Mowing, Gleaning, Measuring Corn, and Harvest-Supper.] 

One of the necessary things to be performed upon the 
farm when snow is on the ground, or when the frost is 
hard, is the removing of the various sorts of manure to 
the place or into the vicinity where it is intended to be 
applied. On grass-farms it is commonly carried at once 
to the place where it is wanted, and set out into moderate- 
sized heaps from the waggon or cart, when, some time 
afterwards, it is spread equally over the entire surface. 
But on till age- farms, at this season of the year, it is 
usually piled up in compost heaps containing many 
waggon-loads each, and there left to rot until the time 
arrives for its being distributed, in the manner likely to 
answer the best purpose, to the crops it was originally 
intended for. Besides hauling out the manure, where 
draining and ditching are required, this is the season for 
employing such hands as are not wanted in the other de- 
partments of farm labour. Thrashing out the grain is 
another business in full operation ; and should the weather 
be seasonable, that is, frosty, the corn is more easily 
thrashed, and in better condition for the market, than 
when the weather is damp or rainy. Should the season 
be unusually severe, farm-stock will require more atten- 
tion than on ordinary occasions; and notwithstanding 
agricultural pursuits, properly speaking, may be nearly 

• From « Saxon Calendar* in British Museum, 'Cotton MS. 
Tib.,' b. 5. The ornaments and other figures of the engraving 
are a'.go composed from Saxon originals. 

at a stand, the people employed about the farm will 
always find some work or other to be done ; for, in fact, 
there is no season of idleness on a large farm. 

In olden times, however, this by no means was the 
case, for during the greater portion of this month the 
Christmas festivities and amusements were still" persevered 
in ; and even at the present day, in many of those remote 
and secluded districts where the improved systems of 
farming, as well as the improvement of the human 
mind, appear to have made the slowest progress, we find 
that what the inhabitants term u Christmas Time " is 
considered as extending past the middle of January, or 
about four weeks from the commencement of New 

Notwithstanding that the festivities which were once 
in vogue at this season of the year have, in a great 
measure, deserted the halls where " the yule-log blazed 
and the ale passed round," there seems little doubt of 
there being more of the reality of the olden time remain- 
ing in the rural districts than in the towns and cities ; 
for in populous communities Christmas is reduced to 
grotesque buffoonery and mimic pantomime — to family 
dining parties, composed of two or three generations^ — to 
the exhibition and then the demolition of the twelfth- 
night cake — and thus endeth the once joyous season of 
Christmas : whereas in many country districts every little 

• Harl. MS., 603. 

Digitized by 





road-side alehouse or village inn has its merry night or 
Christmas dance, at which a considerable portion of the 
population assembles, both male and female ; and should 
the neighbourhood afford two classes of society, on some 
other occasion than that set apart for the public meeting, 
the better sort meet together in the same place, digni- 
fying, however, their meeting with the name of ball or 

Among the various duties devolving in the early sea- 
son of the year upon those who are connected with large 
farms is the care of the sheep. The terrible snow tem- 
pests to which the Highlands of Scotland are subject have 
been already noticed in this publication ;* and in the 
mountainous districts generally, although the weather 
neither be stormy nor the frost severe, the changes are 
sometimes so rapid, that it behoves the shepherd to be 
ever on the watch. Such violent and sudden snows will 
occasionally fall as to cause considerable loss of life even 
m an hour or two, through the sheep being overwhelmed 
by snow-drift in the hollows to which they may have fled 
for shelter. Fortunately " the sheep have generally an un- 
erring foresight of the approach of these storms, or rather 
of the coming wind which will drift, and they will hurry 
away to some tried and approved shelter, when the shep- 
herd sees not a cloud and dreams not of the wind."t If 
the fear of loss make the season an anxious one to the 
master, personal privation and danger frequently make it 
dreadful to the man. Whilst tending his fold, often he 
incurs the suffering, even if he escapes the fate, of the 
shepherd in Thomson's c Seasons :' 

u On every nerve 
The deadly Winter seizes ; shuts up sense, 
And o'er his inmost vitals creeping cold, 
Leys him along the snows a stiffened corse, 
Stretched out and bleaching in the northern blast. 19 

To return. Hard frosts, however long continued, when 
the ground is bare, although injurious to some sorts of 
winter grain, are not nearly so injurious to flocks of sheep 
as a continuance of rainy weather ; for though their food 
may be more scanty in the former case, unless supplied 
with hay from the Darn or stack-yard, yet their fleeces 
being dry, they are kept warm and comfortable, and have 
no difficulty in finding dry places to lie down upon. 
Though therefore this month is often a trying season for 
sheep, February in general may be considered more so, 
and March, in late springs, the worst of all. Respecting 
flocks of sheep kept in the enclosed and warmer parts of 
the country, although they are less exposed to the rigour 
of the seasons, yet, being of a less hardy race, they also 
require care and attention. The food of the sheep and 
cattle is now often frozen, and 

" Every root is found 
A rolling mass of ice upon the ground ; 
No tender ewe can break her nightly fast, 
No heifer strong begin the cold repast, 
Till Giles with ponderous beetle foremost go, 
And scattering splinters fly at every blow ; 
When pressing round him, eager tor the prise, 
From their mixed breath warm exhalations rise.*'J 

When early lambs are desirable for the supply of the 
market, this is the month when the yeaning has to be 
carefully looked after. A discerning fanner is at no loss 
to single out the ewes that are likely to yean their lambs 
early ; and having made his selection, they are nightly 
folded near the homestead, where sheds are prepared to 
shelter them from the inclemency of the weather. Were 
not this attended to, and the ewes allowed to roam abroad 
as usual, most likely a considerable portion of the lambs 
would perish. The dams too, at this season of the year, 
are better fed than the ordinary store sheep on the farm, 

• Vol. viii., p. 74. 

T Farmer's Series — Volume on Sheep. 

♦ « Farmer's Boy.' 

in order that they may yield their offspring a full supply 
of nourishment. Among farmers in general it is cus- 
tomary to fatten and sell off the early produce of their 
stock, both lambs and calves ; but there seems a doubt 
whether, in the long run, this is the most prudent and 
profitable plan, for it is admitted amongst agriculturists 
that early calves and lambs commonly keep ahead of 
those that are produced later in the season, until they 
attain their full growth ; and since both sheep and cattle 
of the improved breeds are now allowed to propagate 
their species at an early age, it seems no more than rea- 
sonable that such as have some months' advantage in 
point of age should produce' a stronger and more valua- 
ble progeny. 

This too is the season for curing hams and bacon. 
Hogs that are intended for pork by the farmers are gene- 
rally slaughtered before winter sets in ; but the latter 
part of December and the early part of this month may 
be considered the great season for the farmers killing off 
their fat hogs. The process of fattening swine varies 
much, the kind and quality of their food depending in a 
great measure upon the nature of the farm-produce of 
the different parts of the country. In some places pota- 
toes and other vegetables raw, or better, steamed or 
boiled, with a small quantity of meal of one sort or an- 
other mixed therewith, is principally used. In other 
parts meal made from peas or beans, and in others 
again oatmeal is mostly made use of. Milk also is an 
excellent article for hogs ; but skim-milk will not bring 
them to a proper state of fatness, and new milk is too 
valuable an article. Occasionally experiments have been 
tried with new milk, when grain was exorbitantly dear ; 
and although the hogs got fat upon it, their flesh was far 
from being so hard and firm as when fed upon meal, and. 
therefore not so valuable. Westmoreland hams, so highly 
prized in the metropolis and elsewhere by connoisseurs in 
nogVflesh, are the hams of hogs fatted upon oatmeal. Most 
of them are what is called dry-scUted, that is, they are not 
soused in pickle as most other hams are, but after a mixture 
of salt, saltpetre, and sugar has been repeatedly rubbed into 
the hams, they are afterwards hung up in the old- 
fashioned open chimneys to smoke and dry, where in a 
few weeks they become strongly impregnated with the 
peculiar flavour of peat-reek (the smoke of turf), and as 
black and sooty as the chimney itself. 

The country firesides during the evenings of this period 
present many a jovial and ruddy group of faces. The 
jokes that pass round may be more practical than witty, 
and the laugh more obstreperous than well-timed, but 
the jokers and the laughers accomplish their object of 
making one another happy. Even here the careful shep- 
herd's thoughts are with his flock : it is perhaps even 
necessary to go to some distant part of the farm to see if 
all be well. So, like Bloomfield's Farmer's Boy — 

" From the fireside with many a shrug he hies, 
Glad if the full-orbed moon salute his eyes, 
And through the unbroken stillness of the night 
Shed on his path her beams of cheering light. 
With sauntering step he climbs the distant stile, 
Whilst all around him wears a placid smile ; 
There views the white-robed clouds in clusters drir*n, 
And all the glorious pageantry of heav'n. 
Low in the utmost boundary of the sight 
The rising vapours catch the silver light; 
Thence Fancy measures, as they parting fly, 
Which first will throw the shadow on the eye : 
Passing the source of light, and thence away, 
Succeeded still by brighter still than they. 
Far yet above these wafted clouds are seen 
(In a remoter sky yet more serene) : 
Others detached in ranges through the air, '* 
Spotless as snow, and countless as they're fair, 
Scattered immensely wide from east to west, 
The beauteous semblance of a flock at rest." 

In many parts of the country it used to he the custom 
among the farming classes for each family to kill a becve 

Digitized by 




[January 31 , 

or two in the winter season, the greater portion "of which 
was salted and cured, and hung up lo dVy, like the hams 
and flitches of bacon, so that, unless a family was rather 
numerous, the supply of hung-beef, in addition to a good 
stock of bacon, prevented the necessity of frequent visits 
to the butcher's stall during the spring and summer. 
It would not appear to be owing to any change of taste 
in the parties concerned that this old custom has been 
permitted to fall into disuse, for many of them still pro- 
fess to have a taste for hung-beef; but farmers are better 
managers than they formerly were, and they find it 
pleasanter as well as more profitable to sell their fat 
stock to the butcher for its full market value, from 
whom they can, at all times and seasons, not only procure 
the precise quantity of meat they may stand in need of, 
but the precise part and quality they may prefer. It 
may be true that the cattle slaughtered at home were not 
always in a condition to command a good price from the 
butcher, — either that they were naturally inferior articles, 
or else there might have been a scarcity of suitable pro- 
vender for fattening stock upon; but owing to the im- 
proved breeds of cattle, as well as the great change and 
improvements in farm-produce, few enterprising farmers 
will tolerate specimens of inferior stock on their premises, 
and still fewer would think of slaughtering half-fed animals 
where there is an abundance of suitable food for bringing 
all the cattle destined for the butcher to the most desirable 
degree of fatness. 

The citizen of London who has never resided out of 
town during the last thirty or forty years, if he has been 
in the habit of regularly noticing the meat-market, must be 
aware of the increase of size in both cattle and sheep. It 
may be true that small sorts are etill brought to the markets 
of the metropolis, and the beef of the Kyloe or Highland 
bullock is still much and deservedly esteemed ; as are 
also Welsh and some other sorts of small mutton. But 
the aim of the agriculturist has been to increase the size 
in cattle* as well as to improve what are considered the 
good points in those intended for the butcher's stall ; 
while in improving our flocks of sheep the main object 
has been to enlarge the carcass, where that could be 
effected without lessening the quantity or deteriorating the 
quality of the wool. The annual show of prize stock 
which takes place in London immediately preceding 
Christmas would perfectly astonish the farmers even of 
the last generation, were they alive to witness it. But 
when we calmly reflect upon the pains and expense which 
have been incurred in effecting all that has yet been 
achieved by the liberal promoters of agriculture, this 
favourable result will seem the less surprising.* 

Persons unacquainted with the circumstances will 
scarcely credit the enormous prices that have sometimes 
been obtained for stock of improved breeds ; and in order 
to show the eagerness that has occasionally been displayed 

• From 1740 to about 1750, the population of the metropolis 
fluctuated very little; amounting, during- the whole of that period, 
to about 670,000 or 675,000. Now, during the ten years ending 
with 1750, there were, at an average, about 74.000 head of cattle 
and about 570,000 head of sheep sold annually in Smithfield 
market. In 1831 the population had increased to 1,472,000, or 
in the ratio of about 218 per cent. ; and at an average of the 
thrte years ending with 1831, 156.000 head of cattle and 1,238,000 
head of ah*ep were annually sold in Smithfield ; being an in- 
crease of 212 per cent, on the cattle, and of 217 per cent, on the 
sheep, as compared with the numbers sold in 1740-50. It con- 
sequently appears that the number of cattle and sheep consumed 
in London has increased, since 1740/in about the same proportion 
as the population. The weight of the animals has, however, a 
good deal more than doubled in the interval. In the earlier part 
of last century, the gnwi weight of the cattle sold at Smithfield 
did not, at an average, exceed 370 lbs., and that of the sheep did 
not exceed 28 lb?. ; whereas, at present, the average weight of the 
cattle is estimated at about 800 lbs. ; and that of the sheep at 
•about 80 lbs. Hence* on the most moderate computation, it may 
be affirmed that the consumption of butcher's meat in the metro- 
polis, as compared with the population, is twice as great at this 
moment as in 1740 or 1750. 

in procuring crack articles in the farming line, two or 
three instances may be quoted. About thirty years ago a 
short-horned bull of the Durham breed was sold in public 
sale for 1000 guineas, and cows sold in the same sale 
for 400 guineas each ; and not for the purpose of being 
exhibited as curiosities, but simply for the purpose of 
propagating their species. Even more surprising matters 
have happened as regards sheep. The late Mr. Bake* 
well, of Dishley, the founder, as he is called, of the new 
Leicester breed, at one period lent or let out his best rams 
by the season for 200 and 300 guineas each ; and on one 
occasion he let two-thirds of the services of a single ram 
for one season for the extraordinary sum of 800 guineas ! 
so that, calculating his own one-third share, — which he 
retained himself, — at the same rate, the income from this 
single sheep, for one season, was equal to 1200 guineas ! 
But the breed of sheep, as well as of cattle, appears to 
have approached that state of comparative perfection, 
at least in many parts of the country, that it is scarcely 
probable that similar prices will ever again be paid by 
our agriculturists, unless something extraordinary and 
far beyond human caleulation should happen to this 

In all farming operations a due regard to order and regu- 
larity should be invariably observed ; so that every one 
employed should not only know his own business well, but 
the proper time and season for the due performance of it. 
No two sorts of work or occupations should be allowed to 
interfere or clash with each other, or to a certainty at 
least one of them will be performed in a slovenly or dis- 
orderly manner. All should be as regular and syste- 
matic as if the whole business of the farm Were regu- 
lated by some well-adiusted machine. To be engaged 
in different sorts of work out of the proper season (for there 
is a season for all things), particularly sowing and plant- 
ing, to witness a profusion of weeds allowed to grow up 
and ripen their seeds, to notice rubbish and litter scat* 
tered about during the summer, are sure indications of 
slovenliness, if not of decidedly bad management. In 
winter to neglect the repairing and opening of ditches and 
drains where they require it, having the various yards 
well fenced and secured, the farming implements all pro- 
perly secured and stowed away until such time as they 

may be wanted again in the ensuing spring or summer 

and not left to rot in the fields where they happened to 
be last used, or stuck in gaps instead of proper fencing 
materials, — all too plainly indicate something Wrong in 
the system. 

Having made these few observations we will con- 
clude by quoting what were considered " the twelve good 
properties of farming" in the time of the famous Tussbk^ 
poet, gentleman, and farmer :— 

" Good farm and well stored, good housing and dry. 
Good corn and good dafry, good market and nigh ; 
Good shepherd, good tillman,good Jack, and good Gill, 
Make husband and housewife their coffers to fill." 

In agriculture, where so many of the processes are 
dependent on the state of the weather, it is not to be 
wondered at that any means are adopted for obtaining a 
foresight respecting it. We trust that the belief in the 
ridiculous predictions of a Moore or a Murphy are gra- 
dually wearing out; but the only true source is obser- 
vation, and farmers and shepherds no doubt evince great 
sagacity in applying their experience; but to make the 
observations really valuable, they should be recorded, 
for then only can they be certainly depended on. We 
have much pleasure in placing before our readers a 
specimen of such a journal, in the hope of its in- 
ducing agriculturists, as well as others, to follow the 
example :— 

Digitized by 








3 S. 










Digitized by 




[Januaey 31, 1840; 


1808. April 19, a heavy fall of mow for four hours— a fine produc- 
tive harvest. 

1809. Last week iu April, very cold, wet, frosty, and uupleasant 
weather — May came in fine and hot. 

1813. An immensely productive harvest, and a general thanks- 
giving for it. 

1814. January 4, the deepest snow that has been lsaown for forty 
years began— was some days falling — continued on the ground 
for five weeks—at places the drifts were fifteen feet high — the 
frost continued twelve weeks, to March 20. 

1816. From April 12 to 15, snow remained on the ground, and 
the weather was severe and frosty, September 3, a severe frost 
which produced ice. 

1817. The month of May very wet, succeeded in September by 
fine harvest weather. 

1818. May 8, a deluge of rain fell, after which no more fell at or 
near Trevereux till September 5, being 1 7 weeks and 1 day, 
during which all vegetation was completely burnt up. 

1819. October 22, snow six inches deep. 

1822. No rain from May 2 to July 5, nine weeks of very hot 

1823. Rain little or much every day from June 29 to August 15, 
forty-seven days. 

1824. A very wet summer, but not cold ; crops of corn light, of hay 

1825. Sold the produce of twelve acres of hops for five shillings ; 
the crop was gathered, and proved to be twenty-four pounds in 

1826 and 1827. Two fine summers. 

1828. Very heavy rain every day from July 6 to August 14. 

1829. Though the ninth of April is stated as the day on which 
oat-sowing was finished, yet an experiment was tried by sowing 
White-gate field with black tartar oats on the 13th of May ; the 
weather was much against them at first, but they turned out 
well and were carried on the 6th of October, the last loading 
goin^ into the barn white with snow. 

Rain more or less every day from June 16 to September 20, 

being 96 days (except on four of them, 23rd and 24th of July, 
and 3rd and 4th September) ; the season was not particularly 
cold, but the wettest iu my memory. (H. C.) . 

1830. A severe frost till February 7; March was fine, dry, and 

warm, without a storm or a shower ; April 1 was snowy till 11000, 
while a swallow was seen flying about at Trevereux. 
1831. On the 6th of May occurred a most severe frost; the young 
shoots of the ash and oak were destroyed — fruit trees of all 
sorts were greatly injured, and even the meadow grass was 
checked to such a degree that it never recovered from its effects 
— ice was nearly half an inch thick on the ponds on the 

Nora."— A severe frost occurred on the night of May 28, 
1819, but inferior in its effects to the last de- 
18344 A fine, dry, warm summer. 

1835. April 16 and 17, a fall of snow for two days. 

Although the 20th of August was noted as the time of the 

first and largest flight of swallows, yet it was observed that 
many remained longer, and they were not all gone this year 
until October the 20th— there are always many stragglers which 
remain longer than the principal flight, and some few, which 
appear to have lost their instinct, remain until the winter kills 
them by starvation and cold. 

1836. September ), swallows almost all gone. 

October 29, suow fell in a frosty state of weather, and 

remained on the ground a week. 

December 24, much snow fell at night, which, in many 

places, being drifted, stopped the roads fur several days, 

1838. January 8, a very severe frost commenced, and it continued 
about five weeks, with some snow, the thermometer being 5 or 
6 degrees below zero — most of the evergreen shrubs were killed 
down to the ground. 

- April 16, continued snow-storms until the 20th, and very 

September 10, swallows more than half gone. 

1839. May 14th, small snow for 4 hours in the morning; and 
15th aud 16th much more, with severe frost at night. 

- September, an extremely wet month, and many floods : con 
tinued wet throughout the autumn 

■ At harvest this year a single grain of wheat planted in my 

garden in Oct., 1838, without any particular cultivation, was 
found to have produced 64 straws gr tillers, all bearing wheat, the 
total number of grains being 2800; and the straff weighed 
when thrashed, 14 ounces. 


Day of 



1 S 

2 Su 


4 To 

5 VV 

9 Su 

10 M 

11 Tu 

12 W 

13 Th 

14 F 

15 S 

16 Su 

17 M 

18 Tu 

19 W 

20 Th 

21 F 

2 2 S 

23 Su 

24 M 

25 Tu 

26 W 

27 Tk 
29 S 

of the 


Sundays and 
Remarkable Days. 

1 Salm. fish. b. in Scotl. 
I Pheas.&Par. shoot, en. 

f 4 Sun. af. Epipli. Pur. 
\ofB.F.Mary. Candlm. 

Half Quarter. 

5 Sunday after Epiph. 


Sephtagetima Sunday. 

Sexagetitna Sunday. 
S.Matthias. D.ofCamb. 
[born 1774, 
Cam. Lent Term div. n, 


h. m. 
7 42 

7 41 
7 39 
7 37 
7 36 
/ 34 
7 33 
7 31 

7 16 
7 14 
7 12 
7 10 
7 8 
7 6 
7 4 
7 2 
6 58 
6 56 
6 54 
6 51 
6 49 


Clock bef. 

13 55 














7 34 


7 55 


8 12 


8 25 


8 37 


8 49 


9 2 






22 9 



9 17 
9 38 
10 7 

10 49 

11 50 

2 32 

3 59 

5 23 

6 43 

7 59 
9 14 

10 28 

11 42 


2 9 

3 17 

4 15 

5 34 


h. m. 

3 21 

4 43 

6 4 

7 25 

8 47 

10 9 

11 34 


1 2 

2 30 

3 54 

5 5 

5 57 

6 33 

8 14 

8 29 

8 48 

9 14 
9 50 

10 39 

11 43 




Barometer. Ins* 
Mean height 30-067 
Highest . 30*820 
Lowest . 29-170 

Mean dew-point 
Highest • 
Lowest • 
Mean dryness 
Mean greatest do. 

of day 
Greatest dryness 

Mean temperature 38 
Highest . 53 

Lowest . 21 

Mean great, of Sun 101 
Greatest power 36 
Mean cold of terrest. 4*7 
Greatest ditto 10 


Mean qty. of rain 0-746 

Meaiiofevap. 073 

Table of the fFiudi. 

Day*. Pew-P. 
N. • " ~"~ 

N.E. . 

S.R. . 

s.w. : 

N.W. . 

Feb. mokmivo. 

2 4Sun.ait.Epiph. Iia.57.Mark S 
9£ „ ,. 5$. .. 9 

ptuages. Sun. Gen. 1 M 16; 
SexagesimaSuu. „ 3 Luke 6 ' 


Feb. 2 Isaiah 58... 1 Cor. It « 

„ 9 .. C4...2Cor. 5 
„ 16 Gen. 2... „ 12 
„23 „ C.Galat. 6 ! 

New . . . 3rd day. Hi. 59m. aft J 
FirftQuart.10thday.4h. 4m. «fU 
Full. . . 17th day, lh. 53m. aOJ 
Last Quart. 25Uiday,10h. 51m mu. 1 

o> •— — »— 1 jr "\$ 

to to co <o?" 

Co — c* co»o ^ B 

pj o> QO to ** *. p 


h. m. 
1 19 
1 36 

1 54 

2 13 
2 31 
2 51 


c* t^ o» o» c* ?* 

*- lO CO CO *- - 

Co co — ^iifcB 



10 ««- •— C» ^ 
•U Oi O *- *OCA0 


ca ca o» 


O *-* fcO CO £t Cg 


V The Office of the Society tor the Difluilon of Useful Knowledge to at 69. Lincoln's Inn Fields. 


Printed h* WBj^itCi^assM8tt»s.*%BrfQrt.8litsW D gifeed byV 



Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. 



[February 1, 1840. 


[The view exhibits the Cloisters, the entrance to the Library! and the tower of the Church.] 

If antiquity has any influence in warming the imagina- 
tions of the young, making them feel that the ground 
upon which they tread is classic, and has been the abode 
of the learned for ages and centuries, there is no question 
that St. Mary's College, not unfrequently Btyled, from its 
great renovator, Wykeham's College, at 'Winchester, has 
* prior claim, in this respect, to any other seminary of 
learning in the British dominions. The Romans, there 
is no doubt, formed here an establishment for education in 
their own literature and religion, and it is said to have 
occupied the site of the present College. Under the 
Saxons, Winchester, though probably without an actual 
College, was still celebrated as a place for instruction. 
Ethelwald selected Swithin (St. Swithin), bishop of Win- 
chester, as tutor for his favourite son Alfred, who after- 
wards became so celebrated as a monarch, and attained 
no mean name among the literati of the time. This is 
one source of pride to a young Wykehamist even at the 
present time, and it is a noble pride leading to patriotism, 
that he treads the tame ground and receives his early 
Vol. IX. 

education where the best and greatest of the Anglo- 
Saxon kings, the founder of the British navy, received 
the rudiments of instruction in his infant years. 

After Alfred had finally routed the banes, and on- 
ward during the reigns of all the Anglo-Saxon kings 
down to the reign of Ethelred, whose imbecility again 
gave boldness to these northern invaders, the school at 
Winchester appears to have gone on with its usual suc- 
cess ; and, at or before this time, sacred architecture, a 
talent for which first brought Wykehara into notice, 
appears to have been cultivated with no ordinary assi- 
duity. One of the most conspicuous scholars that it 
furnished during the tenth century appears to have been 
Ethelwald, who was first a monk in Winchester, then 
abbot of Glastonbury, and ultimately bishop of Winches- 
ter. He was a native of this city, and appears to have 
received the whole of his education at its school, and he 
afterwards became celebrated for architecture, and for 
various branches of what now would be termed civil en- 
gineering. At the command of King Edred and his 

Digitized by 




toother Elgiva, be planned and superintended the build- 
ing of the monastery of Abingdon ; and his talents were 
called into requisition at the cathedrals of Ely and Peterbo- 
rough, and at sacred buildings at Various other places. 
He also rebuilt the cathedral of Winchester ; the crypts 
which remain under the eastern part of the building are 
understood to be from his designs and executed under 
his superintendence ; and they are among the most per- 
fect and best preserved specimens of the higher class of 
sacred architecture among the Anglo-Saxons which are 
to be met with in England. He is also understood to have 
contrived and executed the division of the single stream 
of the Itchen into a number of channels, by which means 
streams of the purest water were brought along many of 
the streets, and the inhabitants abundantly supplied with 
that very essential article. The conduct of this Anglo- 
Saxon prelate is of some importance, as throwing light 
upon at least some of the studies which were pursued in 
its schools, which in those days appear always to have 
been attached to cathedrals and wealthy monasteries, 
and of which the teachers appear to have been invariably 
churchmen. That sacred architecture should have been 
taught in such establishments is what we might naturally 
suppose ; but when we find a student of the Echool at 
Winchester projecting, planning, and carrying into effect 
a means of supplying the inhabitants of the city gene- 
rally with water, the bent and purpose of some of the 
Btudies at leaa assume a more high and valuable cha- 
racter than many are apt to suppose; for it lets us see 
that the schools of those times were at least as forward in 
proportion to the spirit of the age as those of the present 

Notwithstanding the Danish conquest, if conquest it 
could be called, the disturbances of the kingdom toward 
the close of the Saxon dynasty, and the rather question- 
able sanctity of some of the prelates, there was no falling 
off when William of Normandy acquired the English 
crown ; and the accession of that monarch, which is 
known to have given a great impulse to learning all over 
the country, must have had fully as much influence at 
Winchester as anywhere else. It was probably owing 
to the spirit for education which the Norman princes 
were so anxious to introduce, that the character of the 
school at Winchester appears to have undergone a con- 
siderable change, by being made a general grammar- 
school for all classes of the people, poor as well as rich. 
Of this we have evidence in the fact, that when Henry de 
Elois founded the hospital of St. Cross, just sixty-six years 
after the Conquest, he directed that, of the hundred poor 
men who were to be furnished with dinner every day at 
that institution, thirteen should be " of the poorer scholars 
of the Great Grammar-school in Winchester, to be se- 
lected by the masters." 

This statute by De Blois, in the establishment of his 
hospital, was made 243 years before Wykeham took the 
grammar-school under his immediate protection, and 
257 years previous to the completion of the building for 
the establishment as new modelled by him. Down to the 
time when he purchased the grounds of the prior and 
convent of the cathedral, which answered in Catholic 
times to what are now the dean and chapter, it does not 
appear that the school was endowed with any property ; 
and as little does it appear that there was any provision 
for the master until Wykeham took the management of 
the school in 1373. It appears to have been part and 
parcel of the general property and establishment of the 
prior and convent ; though the above-mentioned fact shows 
that it was directed to other than monastic purposes, and 
that, in all probability, it fluctuated a little, along with 
the varying dispositions of those who, for the time, had 
the management there. But as we may presume that 
the majority of the monks belonging to this priory were 
educated at this school, it is natural to suppose that they 
w«uld display considerable zeal in keeping up the cha- 

[February i^ 

racter of a seminary in which their own honour and 
pride were not a little concerned. 

We shall suppose, and indeed it is not supposition but 
well authenticated fact, that William of Wykeham was 
among the last of the very illustrious scholars who re- 
ceived their early education in " The Great Grammar- 
school in Winchester." It reflects the more honour on 
Wykeham that he was of humble parentage. It has 
sometimes been said that his original name was not 
Wykeham, but that his father was John Lang, and his 
mother Sibil, both of them little above the class of la- 
bourers, and that he called himself after the place of 
his birth, after he had got so advanced in the world as 
to honour it by so doing. That such was the station of 
life of his parents there is no reason to doubt; but that 
he should have changed his name is not in accordance 
with the character of the man. Be that as it may, his 
intelligence and superior manners attracted the attention 
of Nicholas Uvedale, lord of the manor, who sent him to 
the school at Winchester, and, after he had completed the 
course of study there for six years, to the College at Ox- 
ford. It is probably from the circumstance of his juvenile 
manni the attention and patronage 

of this l laid the foundation of his 

future lam chose for his motto the 

adage, " manners manym man"* 

It does not appear that in the early part of his life 
Wykeham was in any way intended for the church. But 
after he had been the six years at Oxford, Uvedale, his 
patron, who had become constable of Winchester Castle, 
sent for him to act as his secretary. While he was in this 
capacity, William of Edington, bishop of Winchester, and 
treasurer and chancellor to Edward III., saw and ad- 
mired the ingenuity of young Wykeham. While Wyke- 
ham was in the service of the bishop, King Edward 
visited Winchester, and having been informed of the 
talents of the young architect, appointed him by patent 
surveyor of the royal buildings, in which capacity he had 
charge of castles at Dover, Qtieenborough, Windsor, and 
other places, and at Windsor in particular, there is one 
tower — the same which was occupied by Sir Jeffery Wy- 
atville, while conducting the last renovation of the castle— 
which is called Wykeham tower. 

After various changes of fortune, all of them steps of 
advancement, Wykeham became bishop of Winchester on 
the demise of his former patron Edington. This hap- 
pened in the year 1366 ; and seven years after this, in 
1373, Wykeham took the grammar-school into his own 
hands, chose Robert de Herton for master, paid the 
master's salary out of his own private funds, and also 
found board and lodging for the scholars in different 
houses in St. John's parish. It was well however for 
the future existence of this most antient seminary of learn- 
ing, that Wykeham took this first step of purchasing the 
management, and fourteen years afterwards, after he had 
had experience of this, followed it up by also purchasing 
the ground, erecting new buildings, and endowing the foun- 
dation with estates that have ever since made it perfectly 
independent. Had Wykeham not done this, and had 
the " great grammar-school" remained an appendage to 
the cathedral priory, there is not the least question that 
when Henry VIII. saw fit to seize the properties of 
the monasteries for his own gratification and that of his 
courtiers, the " great grammar-school" of Winchester, at 
winch so many eminent men of modern times have re- 
ceived their education, would have gone to oblivion 
along with many other monastic schools of which not 
even the names now remain. 

The object of Wykeham in the purchase, new model- 
ling, and endowment of this school, must be allowed to 
have been a laudable one. He had just endowed at Ox* 

* This expression is not nngmmnwtical. Jkkmntr; rickety 
good*, were used as singular nouns ia much Ut*r Uam> *ud with 
strict reference to their etymolqgjr. j 

Digitized by 





ford, the other place of his education, a College for the 
•pedal benefit of hia diocese ; and he wished that natives 
of the diocese, especially those of the city in which the 
diocesan cathedral was situated, should have the means 
of obtaining that preliminary education which should 
qualify them for deriving the necessary advantage from 
the College at Oxford; and therefore he established the 
Winchester school, where a certain number of young 
men should receive board and education gratis, but with- 
out excluding others who were willing and could afford 
to pay. The last however formed no part of the regular es- 
tablishment, and at present they are not under the direction 
of the warden of the College, but that of the head master. 

(To t» coottawd.] 

The history of the post-office is, in many respects, the 
history of civilisation. It cannot, for instance, have any 
existence until persons are at liberty to go where they 
please ; and it cannot become a truly national establish- 
ment until the great body of the people are taught the 
rudiments of common learning. 

In the Anglo-Saxon times, large numbers of our 
ancestors were as much fixed to the soil as the trees 
that were planted on it. Even towards the close of the 
fourteenth century, when the commons were rising in 
social importance, it was ordained by statute that " no 
servant or labourer, be he man or woman, shall depart at 
the end of his term out of the hundred where he is 
dwelling, to serve or dwell elsewhere." Three centuries 
afterwards, when the serfs of former times had besom e 
free men, the same system of coercion was applied to 
paupers and destitute persons. They were forbidden to 
seek employment out of their respective parishes ; and 
this prohibition, which was enforced by pains and penal- 
ties, continued in full operation for one hundred and thirty- 
three years, when it was somewhat relaxed. But it is only 
within the last five years that the restraint has been 
wholly removed, and the disposition which it created in 
the minds of many of the labouring classes will for some 
time to come exercise its influence upon their habits. 

When people live and die without removing from the 
place where they were born, — when their kindred and con- 
nections are scarcely more than a few miles remote, — 
when the longest journeys extend only to the nearest town, 
the intercourse of society is evidently not of such a nature 
as to need such an institution as tie post-office, even if 
people had acquired the art of reading and writing. When 
persons of rank began to feel the want of a general me* 
dram of communication, their correspondence was for- 
warded by their own special messengers. The establish- 
ment of the post-office arose out of the increased activity of 
epistolary intercourse ; and the period when such an insti- 
tution was required does not date earlier than the sixteenth 

In the present day, the necessity of a frequent and 
rapid communication by post is an imperious want. 
England is no longer exclusively an agricultural country. 
Thousands leave their father's house at an early age, and 
pass their lives at a distance from their family connections. 
A stream of immigration is constantly pouring into Eng- 
land from Ireland and Scotland. In one year, above a 
haodred thousand persons have emigrated to the British 
colonics or to the United States of America. The in- 
fluence of the law of settlement is greatly diminished, 
and men of the humblest ranks look round to discover 
how they shall best advance their interests, and no longer 
despair because die narrow bounds of their native parish 
do not afford them employment. The excavators em- 
ployed in the formation of a railway will talk of going to 
Belgium or some other part of the Continent when they 
hate completed their present contract ; and the agricul- 
tural labourer, with bis scythe at his back, may be seen 

on board a steam-boat in the Thames, bound for York- 
shire; the low fare of half-a-crown enabling him, after 
having worked at the most profitable description of agri- 
cultural labour as long as it could be obtained in the 
southern counties, to proceed to the opposite extremity of 
England in search of similar employment. Upon per- 
sons of this class, who are frequently absent from their 
families for several weeks, the penny post will confer 
great obligations when they shall have learned to avail 
themselves of it. Objections may be made to these mi- 
grations, but if employment is not to be obtained at home, 
it is better to go even to some distance, where it is to be 
had, than be dependent upon the parish. The migration 
of labourers was permitted by the law passed in 1351, 
called the * Statute of Labourers.' Those who resided in 
the upland districts, where the harvest was late, were 
allowed to leave their hundred and assist in getting in the 
harvest in the plains, where it was ready for the sickle 
much earlier. 

Seventy years ago, a young man who came up from 
Cumberland or Northumberland to make his fortune in 
London would perhaps not visit the scene of his early 
life until years had elapsed, and the love of friends, if 
not of kindred, had become dimmed. Travelling was 
not only expensive, but the fatigue and loss of time con- 
sequent upon a long journey were serious obstacles to 
locomotion. That frequency of personal intercourse which 
multiplies the occasions for epistolary communication did 
not exist to anything like the extent which is possible at 
this day. By the railroad, a man can now leave London 
at half-past eight at night, and at seven in the morning 
he may breakfast at Preston, 221 miles from the metro 
polis. The motion of the railway train is so easy that 
there is nothing to prevent a traveller sleeping through 
the night. There is not any one of the remarkable im- 
provements of the last thirty years which would have 
astonished men of the last generation so much as this 
marvellous fact. The unrivalled perfection to which tra- 
velling by mail and stage coaches was carried before rail- 
roads were formed would have scarcely appeared less 
miraculous. Our grandfathers thought they were " going 
a-head " at the time when the following announcement 
was made in a work published in 1768 :* — " There is of 
late an admirable commodiousness both for men and 
women of better quality to travel from London to almost 
any town of England, and to almost all the villages near 
this great city, and that is by stage-coaches, wherein we 
may be transported to any place, sheltered from foul 
weather and foul ways ; and this not only at a low price, 
at about a shilling for every five miles, but with such 
speed as that the posts in some foreign countries make 
not more miles in a day ; for the stage-coaches, called 
' flying-coaches,' make fifty or sixty miles in a day, as 
from London to Oxford or Cambridge; sometimes seventy, 
eighty, or a hundred miles, as to Southampton, Bury, and 

Our grandfathers moreover were content if the post 
conveyed their correspondence to and from London twice 
or thrice a-week ; but now, by the recent establishment 
of morning mails, letters are sent to most parts of the 
country tvice a-day, or twelve times a-week. Thus, a 
letter from Brighton, addressed to a person in Yorkshire, 
is not delayed fourteen hours in London, but is hurried 
on to its destination two or three hours after it reaches 
the General Post-office. A merchant at Liverpool also 
receives the letters which arrive every morning in London 
by the foreign mails without that injurious delay which 
took place only two years ago. The change necessarily 
arose out of the accelerated speed of railway conveyance, 
which rendered delays formerly little thought of appear 
monstrous. When the mail-coach was twenty-four hours 
in travelling from London to Liverpool, a delay of fifteen 
hours in London was but little more than one-half the 
« * Magna Brit. Wotttiw.' 


Digitized by 




[February 1, 

time occupied by the journey ; but when the same dis- 
tance came to be performed in about nine hours, then the 
disproportion appeared so great as to require an imme- 
diate alteration ; and therefore letters, instead of lying in the 
General Post-office all day, are despatched by the morn- 
ing mails, and reach places above two hundred miles dis- 
tant from London before the hour at which they would for- 
merly have been sent off by the night mails. The morning 
mails are of course available to as well as from I/mdon. 

Seventy years ago, as we have already stated, the com- 
munication by post with the principal towns of England 
was only twice or three times a-week, and with many 
places not so frequently. Saturday was the great post- 
day, mails being on that day made up for all parts of 
England, Scotland, and Ireland; but "the post goes 
every day to those places where the court resides, as also 
to the several stations and rendezvous of His Majesty's 
fleet, as the Downs and Spithead ; and to Tunbridge 
during the season foi waters."* The post- 

office has now becoi lemocratic of all our 

public establishments, it admits all on the most perfect 
equality ; and even the sovereign abandons the privileges 
of the royal prerogative, and is on a level with the sub- 
ject. In the olden time, if we may apply that term to a 
period almost within the recollection of old persons, the 
post went out daily to the place where the fashionables of 
the last century were accustomed to resort; while to 
Manchester, Liverpool, Leeds, Birmingham, and all our 
great cities, three times a-week was considered sufficiently 
frequent. Let the reader imagine, if possible, that these 
towns in the present day had only a post-office communi- 
cation with London thrice a-week instead of twice a-day, 
and that Bath and Tunbridge had their daily post; 
and it will be felt how great are the changes which have 
taken place in our social and commercial intercourse since 
the commencement of the reign of George III. The 
account from which we quote says : — " Letters are re- 
ceived from all parts of England and Scotland (except 
Wales) every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday ; from 
Wales every Monday and Friday ; and from Kent and 
the Downs every day." Packets sailed twice a-week for 
France, that is. about as frequently as they now start for 
America. The ' Great Western,' ' Liverpool,' or * British 
Queen,' 'steaming' across the Atlantic in less than a 
fortnight, would have been as marvellous to the men of 
1768 as the railroads. Nevertheless, in that day and 
generation the arrangements of the post-office were re- 
garded with the utmost complacency. " Letters are con- 
veyed in so short a time, by night as well as by day, that 
every twenty-four hours the post goes 120 miles ; and in 
five or six days an answer to a letter may be had from a 
place 300 miles distant from London." At present it is 
quite possible for a person living at Preston, 221 miles 
from London, to send a letter to and receive an answer 
from London in twenty- five hours, allowing too a delay 
of four hours in London, the distance traversed being 
442 miles. In H6S, the mail, travelling at the rate of 
less than six mile3 an hour, would have been little more 
than half-way to Preston in the same time. It is also 
quite possible, in a case of emergency, for a merchant 
at Birmingham to write to his correspondent at Liverpool 
in the afternoon and receive a communication in reply 
the same night, the distance, which is above two hundred 
miles, being traversed between half-past two and a quarter 
before twelve, and an hour being allowed at Liverpool. 

It is estimated that the number of letters conveyed 
through the post-offices of England and Wales in a year 
was about sixty millions, previous to the recent change in 
the scale of postage; and perhaps the number will very 
soon exceed two hundred millions, an enormous amount 
of correspondence, it must be confessed. But when every 
man and woman in England can write instead of only 
about one-half of the adult population, even this number 

• < 

Magna Brit. Notitia.* 

will probably be small in comparison with the frequent 
use which will then be made of the post. But the gene- 
ration preceding our own conceived that in their time the 
activity of correspondence by the pott had attained a 
magnitude which would have surprised their grandfathers. 
" Though (says the writer of 1768) the number of letters 
missive were not at all considerable in our ancestors' days, 
yet it is now so prodigiously great (since the meanest 
people have generally learnt to write*), that this revenue 
amounts to about 110,000/. a-year." The postage was 
at that time 3d. for 80 miles, and for distances above 80 
miles the charge was 4d. Supposing that the average of 
all letters posted was 3Jd., it would appear that the 
number of letters annually transmitted by the post, not 
in England and Wales only, but in Great Britain, was 
7,500,000. The population has trebled since this period, 
but we hope soon to see the correspondence by letters 
increased forty or fifty fold. 

The Rook.— I have spoken of the conjugal affection of 
the rook. The female takes possession of the nest the mo- 
ment the building of it commences, and she is attended 
upon and fed by the male, and with a fondling tremulous 
voice and frittering wings, and with more little blandish- 
ments than one would think such a bird was capable of 
expressing, she receives the food which he brings to her ; 
by-and-bye the young are hatched, and perhaps the latter 
part of the spring is dry, and grubs and wire-worms, and 
earth-worms, and all the' enemies of the farmer— on which, 
and not on bis corn, the rook subsists — are deep in the 
earth, and beyond his reach ; then at the first dawn of light 
he is seeking the dew-worms, and during the day perambu- 
lating the fields and wandering by the side of the hedges 
and remaining out searching for food quite in the dark, and 
returning to his roost long after the usual period for retiring, 
and having fed his brood, himself exhausted and starved, 
falling from the nest dead under the trees, and others, the 
only birds with regard to which we have proved this, taking 
to the broods, and feeding them as well as they can. This 
bird, with all his interesting qualities, is also a useful one, 
one of the farmer's best friends. Some corn seeds, but not 
many, are occasionally found in his craw; the newly 
planted potatoes suffer to a certain degree, in his eagerness 
to get at the grubs with which they are infested. That the 
food of this bird is the insect, and not the corn, may be 
easily ascertained. Go into the field in which the plough- 
man and the 6owor are both at work, plenty of rooks will 
generally be found there, but it is the ploughman on whom 
they attend, and not one particle of the seed is stolen. 
Time passes on, and the young rooks begin to be able to 
sit upon the edge of their nests, and they soon wander to 
the neighbouring boughs, and then a parcel cf cowardly 
fellows congregate together under the trees and shoot as 
many of' them as they can, while the poor old birds are 
darting about and expressing their grief and soliciting 
mercy. True, the young rooks are said to be destroyed for 
food ; a portion of them are thus used, but that is not the 
object of the sportsman, it is murder on the greatest scale 
on which he can effect it — the murder of one of the most 
useful birds that our country contains, and that murder 
committed in view of the parent, and at the period at which 
the parental affection is most intense. — Humanity to Brute*, 
by W. Youatt. 

The * Naras, a New Fruit. — The naras was growing on 
little knolls of sand; the bushes were about four or five 
feet high, without leaves, and with opposite thorns on the 
light and dark green striped branches. The fruit has a co- 
reaceous rind, rough with prickles, is twice the size of an 
orauge, or fifteen or eighteen inches in circumference, and 
inside it resembles a melon as to seed and to pulp. I seised 
a half-ripe one and sucked it eagerly for the moisture it 
contained ; but it burned my tongue and palate exceedingly, 
which does not happen when this most valuable fruit is 
ripe— it has then a luscious subacid taste. Some plants of 
'naras are now growing in England (March, 1838), from 
seeds which I brought home: they are a foot high and 
beginning to branch, having two thorns at each articula- 
tion, and a stipule scarcely to be called a leaf between 
them, on the axis of which is a bud, but no leaves.— y#*x* 
ander's Expedition of Discovery. 

• This was* unfortunately, an exaggeration 

Digitized by 






Instead of endeavouring to explain all the complexities 
of a modern loom, we will confine ourselves to that part 
immediately connected with the throwing of the shuttle. 
A is a roller round which the parallel threads of warp 
are wound ; these threads pass over another roller B, and 
pass through the vertical threads of two upright frames 
C C, called treddles. These treddles have the effect of 
separating the warp into two parcels, one of which is de- 
pressed while the other is elevated ; the adjoining threads 
of the warp heing alternately depressed and elevated. 
When the threads advance to the point D, just before they 
reassemble into one parallel layer, a shuttle (the point of 
which is just seen under the upper threads) is suddenly 
driven across from edge to edge of the warp, carrying with it 
me thread of weft, which becomes thus interlaced among 
the threads of the warp. A piece of mechanism called a 
batten then presses that thread of weft close up to those 
before made, and which form the completed portion of 
woven cloth £ £. By reversing the motion of the treddles 
and of the shuttle, another thread of weft is formed in a 
similar manner, and so on continuously. 

The shuttle is a kind of little boat, containing yarn 

[Shuttle of Power-lootxbJ 

wound on a spindle. As the shuttle moves onward the 
ipindle revolves and unwinds the yarn, which passes out 
through a little hole in the boat. The lower half of the 
idjoining cut shows the mechanism by which the shuttle 
is driven between the divided threads of the warp. 
In making calico, the shuttle of a power-loom generally 

travels to and fro across the warp about one hundred and 
twenty times per minute, thus making an equal number 
of threads of weft in the same time, and a complicated 
series of movements takes place between each two move- 
ments of the shuttle, having for their object to drive up 
the thread of weft to the cloth already woven, and to re- 
verse the position of the divided parcels of warp, elevating 
those which were before depressed, and vice versd. 

If we examine a piece of calico or of muslin, or the 
material for a printed cotton gown, we perceive that the 
threads pass regularly over and under one another, that 
is, that the cross threads never pass over or under two 
adjoining threads of warp. But if we look at those 
fabrics which are called twills, we perceive a peculiar 
oblique ribbed appearance ; this is caused by a deviation 
from the mode of weaving just spoken of ; after passing 
under one thread of warp, the weft passes over two, three, 
four, or even as many as eight adjoining threads, which 
of necessity imparts a peculiar texture to the fabric This 
is one of tne means by which the manufacturer multiplies 
the variety of his goods ; for many of the articles which 
obtain different names at our mercer's and linen-draper's, 
only differ from each other in the number of threads of 
warp that the weft passes over after having passed under 
one thread. In other cases these differences are combined 
with some peculiarities in the kind or quantity of cotton 
yarn employed; thus damask, dimity, diaper, fustian, 
jean, velveteen, corduroy, &c. are all twills, and are 
(some always, others occasionallly) made of cotton. The 
first three are woven in such a peculiar way, that the twill 
is made to form a device or pattern, instead of merely 
forming a ribbed appearance obliquely across the cloth ; 
the weft, after passing under one thread, goes over from 
three to seven, according to circumstances, and the open- 
ing between the two divisions or parcels of warp is so 
managed as to lead to the production of a pattern, often 
very elaborate. The other fabrics we have mentioned are 
cotton twills, made of stout materials, and having a kind 
of nap or pile on the surface; this pile is produced by 
working up and sometimes cutting the loose glossy fibres 
of the cotton after the weaving is completed. 

But these details respecting cotton fabrics generally, 
nowever interesting, would lead us to too great a length. 
We must con6nc ourselves to our cotton gown. The pro- 
cesses hitherto considered have led to the nroduction of a 
piece of cloth, of a dirty white colour, and devoid of any 
pattern whatever. If warmth and comfort were the only 

Digitized by 




[February 1, 

objects sought for in clothing, the services of the dress- 
maker might now immediately succeed those of the manu- 
facturer. But such are not and never have been the 
limits in this respect ; richness of colour and beauty of 
device have been objects of admiration in every age and 
country ; and the cotton-manufacturer has not neglected 
to appeal to this taste. 

One mode of producing both colour and pattern in 
woven cloth is to have the threads of the warp of two or 
more different colours ; thus, ten threads white, then ten 
black, and so on throughout the two or three thousand 
threads that generally constitute the width of a piece of 
cloth ; a white weft woven in among these would produce 
a black and white striped cotton. If the weft were of two 
colours, and the warp only one, the stripes would be 
across the cloth. If both warp and weft were variously 
coloured, a checquered pattern would be produced. It 
will be easy to conceive, from these three instances, how 
great variety of pattern might be produced when the 
colours, both of warp and weft, are more than two, and 
when changes are made in the number of threads which 
compose each alternation of colour. 

But such a plan cannot, without a complexity of weav- 
ing apparatus that would lead to costly results, produce 
flowers, foliage, scroll-work, and similar small patterns. 
The object of manufacturers, therefore, was to devise the 
means of laying on a kind of paint or dye, which should 
impart to white cotton cloth any desirable pattern : if this 
pattern were only impressed on one side, the inconvenience 
would not be great, for most garments are seen but on 
one side. In 1676 a rude mode of impressing patterns 
on woven cloth was introduced into England from India. 
Upon this method successive improvements were made, 
until at length the art has been brought to great excel- 
lence. We cannot enter into the extensive subject of 
dyeing, by which a uniform colour is impregnated 
entirely through the fibres of woven cloth ; suffice it to 
say, that cotton fabrics, like those of wool, &&, are dyed 
by being dipped into large vats containing colouring 

Let us suppose that the piece of cotton which has en- 
gaged our attention, instead of being dyed one uniform 
colour, is to have a pattern printed on it. The first 
operation is to singe or burn off the loose downy fibres, 
which would considerably injure the appearance of the 
cloth if allowed to remain. This singeing is usually 
effected by passing the cloth with uniform velocity over 
a very hot iron : the fibres are burned off, but the move- 
ment is too quick to allow the doth to be injured. The 
cloth is then bleached or whitened, for it must be remem- 
bered that the natural colour of the fibres, and the many 
processes they have to go through, impart to cotton cloth 
a yellowish cast, which is exemplified by the unbleached 
cotton occasionally received from India : the snowy white- 
ness of muslins and calicoes is considered an indispensable 
feature in them; and it is also deemed desirable in 
cotton about to be printed. The Bleaching in our first- 
rate establishments consists of no fewer than twenty-five 
distinct processes, and yet a yard of cotton can be bleached 
for less than one half-penny. But the part of these pro- 
cesses which is the more particularly connected with the 
removal of colour is that in which bleaching powder 
(chloride of lime) is dissolved in water, and applied to 
the cloth. One of the constituents of the powder is 
chlorine, a gas possessing the remarkable property of re- 
moving colour from almost every class of material, ani- 
mal, vegetable, or mineral. 

Cotton bleaching is the work of one class of persons, 
cotton or calico printing of another ; the cotton to be 
printed has therefore to pass from the former to the latter. 
The colours wliich may be given to the cloth are of infi- 
nite variety, and are produced by various substances, such 
as cochineal, madder, Bnril wood, indigo, Prussian blue, 
Scheele's green, Saxon green, &c. In elucidation of the 

manner in which these colours are stamped on the cloth, 
we may say a word or two respecting wood-cut and 
copper-plate printing. Wood-cuts, such as those illus- 
trating this article, are printed from wood-blocks on 
which the figure has been cut, those parts which represent 
the device being left prominent : — ink is spread on these 
prominent parts, and an impression obtained from them. 
But in copper-plates the device is engraved, that is, the 
lines which are to form the device are sunk instead of 
being left prominent ; ink is spread over the whole plate, 
wiped off again from the level surface, and left in the 
engraved depressions, which impart the device to the 
paper. Now these processes almost exactly resemble the 
old and the new methods of calico-printing. According 
to the old plan, the device was cut upon a block of syca- 
more, the parts which were to make the impression being 
left prominent, but when the figure was very fine and 
complicated, the device was made of small pieces of 
copper, which were ingeniously driven into the block, and 
the interstices filled up with felt. In the more modern 
mode, the device is engraved on a plate or on a cylinder 
of copper. In the former of the two instances, the flat 
copper-plate is about a yard square, and after the colour 
has been applied to its surface, an elastic steel plate is 
made to pass over it, and remove all the colour from the 
surface. In the second instance the device is engraved 
on the surface of a large copper cylinder ; and after the 
colouring and partial removal of colour, the rotation of 
the cylinder impresses the device upon the cloth, as the 
ktter moves through under the cylinder. 

Most of the colours will not remain permanent on the 
cloth unless the latter be previously dipped into some 
liquor of a binding quality ; such a liquor is called a 
mordant, of which the principal is a solution of alum. 
This circumstance enables cottons to be printed in several 
wayB. Sometimes the device is printed with an ink (if 
we may use the term) which is a mordant, and the cloth 
is then dyed or steeped in some particular colour : on 
washing the cloth, the whole of the colour washes out, 
except that part where the mordant had been used. In 
other cases a colouring substance is used, which has the 
property of uniting with the cloth without the aid of a 
mordant, but it is prevented from so uniting at some 
parts by printing a device with some peculiar substance 
called a resist paste ; after printing with this resist paste, 
and then dyeing the whole piece of cotton, washing will 
remove the dye from those parts touched by the resist 
paste, but not from the other parts. It is obvious that a 
pattern is produced by both these means, but in a pre- 
cisely opposite way. The former of the two methods 
produces a coloured pattern on a white ground ; the latter 
a white pattern on a coloured ground. In either case, 
however, oy a judicious choice of colours, of mordants, 
and of resist pastes, the whole extent of the cloth may 
be made to receive various colours, with no portion of 
white remaining visible. 

We will briefly illustrate these remarks by speaking of 
a blue and white, and a red and white cotton. For the 
former the device is printed in a resist paste of sulphate 
of copper ; the cloth is then dipped in a blue dye of in- 
digo, and, after some other processes, washed ; this wash- 
ing removes the blue from the printed parts, and leaves 
them white, thus producing a blue and white pattern. 
In the second instance the device is printed with an alum 
mordant, and the piece is then dipped in a dye of madder 
or some similar red : subsequent washing removes the 
red from all those parts which have not been printed with 
the mordant, and thus a red and white pattern is pro- 
duced. In the Bandanna cotton handkerchiefs, designed 
to imitate silk, the cloth is dyed of one uniform colour, 
and a device of spots formed by removing part of the 
colour, through a very peculiar application of chlorine, 
suite different from the process of calico-printing. 

We have now manufactured the material for our cotton 

Digitized by 





town, by tracing its progress from the state of a woolly 
bre, to that of an ornamentally-coloured woven fabric 
from which garments may be made. The number of 
processes, the ingenuity employed, the amount of capita} 
invested, the number of workmen, and the impulse given 
to the export trade of England, render the cotton manu- 
facture of an importance quite unexampled in any other 
kind of manufacture at home or abroad. Were there 
not official evidence in support of the fact, it would per- 
haps be thought incredible that the value of pur exports 
of manufactured cotton equals that of all our other exports 
put together : it is said now to amount to more than 
twenty -two millions sterling annually. As to the im- 
portance of the cotton manufacture in a social point of 
view, ^we would direct the reader's attention to the fol- 
lowing judicious remarks from Mr. Baines : — " Jf the 
thought should cross any mind that, after all, the so- 
much- vaunted genius of our mechanics has been ex- 
pended in the insignificant object of enabling men better 
to pick out, arrange, and twist together tlie fibres of a 
vegetable wool — that it is for the performance of this 
minute operation that so many energies have been ex- 
hausted, so much capital employed, and such stupendous 
structures raised, and so vast a population trained up, 
we reply, our object is not insignificant because the 
operation by which it is effected is minute. The first 
want of men in this life, after food, is clothing, and as 
this art enables them to supply it far more easily and 
cheaply than the old method of manufacturing, and to 
bring cloths of great elegance and durability within the 
use of the humble classes, it is an art whose utility is 

inferior only to that of agriculture By supplying 

one of the great wants of life with a much less expendi- 
ture of labour than was formerly needed, it sets at 
liberty a larger proportion of the population to cultivate 
literature, sciences, and the fine arts. To this country 
the new inventions have brought a material accession of 
wealth and power." 


In a previous number of the * Penny Magazine* (vol. vii., 
p. 143) details have been given resjpecting the produc- 
tion of silk by the silk- worm, and of substances closely 
resembling silk by other insects. A slight allusion was 
at the same time made to a fish called the Pinna, which 
also produced a kind of silk. The costliness of this 
latter material has prevented it from attaining a com- 
mercial importance, but the circumstances connected with 
its production are highly deserving of a notice more ex- 
tended than was compatible with that article. 

The pinna belongs to the same order of shell-fish as the 
well-known muscle, but is very much larger, sometimes 
attaining so great a length as two feet. The fish is fur- 
nished with an organ which serves various purposes at 
different times. When the animal is about to change 
place (which is but seldom), the extremity of this organ, 
which then acts as a leg, is fixed to some solid body, and 
being then contracted in its length, the whole fish is 
drawn towards the spot where the end of the organ has 
been fixed ; these movements repeated as often as may be 
necessary, the animal succeeds in changing its place. 

But the more frequent employment of this organ is as 
a sort of tongue, by which the fish spina, or rather moulds, 
a beautifully fine fibrous substance. The manner in 
which it acts, according to a late writer on the silk-manu- 
facture, is as Mows : — Although the tongue is flat, and 
somewhat similar in form to a human tongue through the 
mater part of its length, it becomes cylindrical near the 
base or root, where it is much smaller than in any other 
part ; at this lower end are several ligatures of a muscular 
nature, which hold the tongue firmly fixed against the 
middle of the shell ; four of these cords are very apparent, 
and terre to move the tongue in any direction, according 

to the wants of the fish, Through the entire' length of 
this tongue there runs a slit, which pierces very deeply 
into its substance, so as almost to divide it into two longi- 
tudinal sections ; this slit performs the office of a canal 
for the liquor of which the threads are formed, and serves 
to mould them into their proper form ; this canal appears 
externally like a small crack, being almost covered by 
the flesh from either side, but internally it is much wider, 
and is surrounded by circular fibres. The channel thus 
formed extends regularly from the tip to the base of the 
tongue, where it partakes of the form of the tongue, and 
becomes cylindrical, forniing there a close tube or pipe, 
in which the canal terminates. The viscid substance is 
moulded in this tube into the form of a cord, similar to 
the threads produced from it, but much thicker, and from 
this tube all the minute fibres issue and disperse. The 
internal surface of the tube in which the large cord is 
formed is furnished with glands for the secretion of the 
peculiar liquor employed in its production, and which 
liquor is always in great abundance in this muscle. 

The pinna Jive on the shores of the Mediterranean, 
usually on sandy banks five or six toises below the level 
of the sea. They support themselves and their shells in 
a vertical nosition, by means of the silken fibres which 
are protruded in the manner just described. These fibres, 
called collectively the byssus, they attach to any sur- 
rounding bodies, or even to grains of sand, in a manner 
sufficiently firm to enable them to resist the motion of 
the sea, for they are ill-content with locomotion. 

The common edible muscle has the power of producing 
filaments in a •similar way. That they affix tnemselves 
to rocks has been long known ; but it was not till Reaumur 
investigated the subject, that it was found how this fixa- 
tion was attained. Ha put some muscles into a vessel 
containing sea-water, and watched their progress. They 
opened their shells and protruded an organ which we 
may call a tongue, and moved it about in various direc- 
tions, as if to find a place whereon to fix itself. After 
some time one of them was observed to attach the tongue 
to a particular place, and on drawing it away again with 
some quickness, Reaumur perceived a very fine thread 
adhering to the vessel ; this, once begun, was repeated 
several times, until a cluster of fibres was produced. 
Reaumur afterwards found, that on tearing a muscle 
away from a rock to which it is attached, it will, if left 
to itself, speedily repair the damage by spinning some 
more fibres. 

The fibres produced by the muscle are manifestly too 
short to be woven into a useful fabric ; but it appears 
that the byssus of the larger pinna was early employed 
for this purpose, as a costly and rare ornament. The 
word byssus is frequently employed in early writings, 
and it has been supported by some that it was the byssus 
of the pinna alluded to. It is said that a robe composed 
of byssus of the pinna was presented to the satraps of 
Armenia by one of the Roman emperors. 

But be this as it may, it is certain that the byssus of 
the pinna has been employed by the Sicilians for a long 
time as a material for fight clothing. It existed among 
them more than a century ago, and has continued more 
or less ever since. The Sicilians not only eat the fish, 
but make use of the byssus. In order to collect the 
pinnae they go out in boats, provided with an iron in- 
strument called a cramp, with two prongs or teeth 
about a foot long projecting from it, and with a handle 
long enough to reach from the boat to the place where the 
fish is stationed. The instrument is let down, and the 
prongs placed beneath the shell, so as to catch it between 
them. By the muscular force of the man (or sometimes 
of two or three men) the fish is dragged away from its 
hold of the rock, by a fracture of the filaments of the 
byssus, at some part of their length. The fishermen then 
cut close to the shell those fibres which are sufficiently 
for spinning, and these, after being combed or carded, 

Digitized by 




[tEB^ART ^ 1640 

to remove impurities, fte spun ifcto yam or thread, just 
as silken filaments would be ; and from this yarn are 
woven or knitted garments of various kinds, such as 
gloves, stockings, caps, and other light articles. As the 
filaments of byssus are extremely fine, of a perfectly equal 
diameter throughout their length, and of some strength, 
it is found that the fabrics woven from them are supple, 
strong, and warm ; in fact, the combination of extreme 
lightness with warmth seems to mark this substance in 
an especial degree. 

We must now speak of a circumstance connected with 
the pinna, which has attracted a great deal of notice 
among the early naturalists. The pinna is said to be 
destitute of the organs of sight, and therefore but ill pre- 
pared to defend itself from hostile attacks when its shell 
is open. It is also said to have a deadly foe in the cuttle- 
fish. Lastly, a little fish of the crab kind has been fre- 
quently found sheltered in the shell of the pinna. All 
these circumstances combined gave rise to much specula- 
tion among early naturalists, in which truth appears to 
have been somewhat confounded with fiction. Aristotle 
spoke of a little fish with claws like a crab, which keeps 
guard for the pinna, grows to her mouth, and acts as her 
caterer. Pliny describes the pinna as a shell-fish that is 
found in muddy waters, always erect, and never without 
a companion of the crab kind. Oppianus, a Greek poet, 
celebrated the friendship of the two fishes in a stanza, 
which ha3 been thus rendered in English :— 

" The pinna and the crab together dwell, 
For mutual succour, in one common shell : 
They both to gain a livelihood combine ; 
That takes the prey, when this has given the sign : 
From hence this crab, above his fellows famed, 
By ancient Greeks was Pinna tores named. n 

Lamarck has represented the ancients, generally speak- 
ing, as having entertained the idea that the pinnatore or 
crab was the natural sentinel, guardian, companion, and 
caterer of the pinna ; that he took birth with him ; that 
he was essential to the pinna's existence ; that the pinna, 
having no eye-sight, and not much energy of sensation 
generally, opened his shell in order that small fish might 
enter ; and that the crab advertised him, by a gentle 
bite, that he had a sufficient quantity, and that he should 
close his shell ; and that they both then shared the booty, 
the crab having brought eye-sight, and the pinna strength 
of shell, as their respective contributions to the joint-stock 

Let us now come down to more recent times. In 
1749, Hasselquist, the distinguished naturalist, made a 
voyage to the Levant, and wrote to Linnaeus on many of 
the natural objects which engaged his attention* In one 
of his letters he says : ** Amongst others they sell here 
(Smyrna) a sepia or cuttle-fish, which by them is called 
oKTuicoiia ; it has only eight tentacula, all of equal length ; 
the whole animal is a foot long, and thick in proportion. 
Of this the Greeks have related me an anecdote, which I 
think remarkable. The Pinna muricata, or great silk 
muscle, is here found in the bottom of the sea in large 
quantities, and is a foot long. The cuttle-fish watches 
the opportunity, when the muscle opens her shell, to creep 
in it and devour her ; but a little crab, which has scarcely 
any shell, or has at least only a very thin one, lodges 
constantly in this shell-fish. She pays a good rent, by 
saving the life of her landlady, for she keeps a constant 
look out through the aperture of the shell, and on seeing 
the enemy approach, she begins to stir, when the »*va 
(for so the Greeks call the shell -fish), shuts up her house, 
and the rapacious animal is excluded. I saw this shell- 
fish first at the island of Milo, and found such a little 
crab in all I opened : I wondered not a little what was 
her business there ; but when I came here I was first 
informed of it by the secretary of our consul, M. Justi, 
a curious and ingenious man, who has travelled much, 
and lived long in this place. This was afterwards con- 

firmed by several Greeks* who daily catch ami flat both 
these animals." 

But the researches of more recent naturalists, particu- 
larly those of France, have led to doubts as to some part 
of these statements. Some of the details are, in all pro- 
bability, due to romance, but a recent writer says that 
the following is a probable version of the real state of the 
case : — That whenever the pinna ventures to open its 
shell, it is immediately exposed to the attacks of various 
of the smaller kinds of fish, which, finding no resistance 
to their first assaults, acquire boldness and venture in ; 
that the vigilant guard, by a gentle bite, gives notice of 
this to his companion, who, upon this hint, closes her 
shell, and having thus shut them in, makes a prey of 
those who had come to prey upon her, — sharing the booty 
with her companion. If this be the case, it is sufficiently 
curious, without venturing into the field of romance. 

With respect 'to the employment of the pinna as a 
source whence silk might be produced, many naturalists 
think it might be greatly extended. M. Bosc {Diet, 
des Scien. Nat.) says : " It would seem, from the know- 
ledge we possess, that the capture of the pinna might be 
regulated, and the product prodigiously increased. A 
certain number of pinnae might be caught, not with the 
cramp, for that generally wounds them mortally, but by 
severing their byssus. These pinnae might be placed in 
ponds of moderate depth, where persons might go from 
time to time to cut the filaments. Their numbers, as is 
common with the bivalves, would rapidly increase, and a 
considerable revenue might be thereby derived. But it 
is not from people so little industrious and so ignorant 
as the Calaorians that we must look for improvements 
in the arts : it is necessary, before they effect such an 
object, to conquer prejudices and to have a better form 
of education." 

M. de Blainville also thinks that by keeping the 
pin roe in ponds they would multiply greatly, and that 
they could be collected conveniently and at the proper 
times for cutting off the byssus. 

The Paraguay Tea-tree. — The yerba-mate, or tea, is as 
much in general use and demand throughout all the pro- 
vinces of La Plata, Chile, and many parts of Peru, as the 
teas of China are in Europe. The plant which produces it 
(the Ilex Paraguayensis) is an evergreen of the holly 
species, about the size of an orange-tree, which grows wild 
and in great abundance in the dense forests in the northern 
and eastern parts of the province, whither the people repair 
yearly in numerous gangs to collect it The difficulties of 
penetrating the woods to reach the ' yerbales,' as they are 
called, are considerable, but they are amply repaid by the 
certain profits of the adventure. The whole process of pre- 
paring and packing it for market is performed on the spot 
The tender branches and twigs, being selected, are roasted 
quickly over a fire till the leaves are crisp; and then, after 
being partially crushed or pounded, are rammed into hide 
bags, called ' serrons,' containing200 lbs. each, which, when 
sown up, are ready for sale. The Jesuits cultivated the 
plant, of which there are three species, in their missions' 
and by attention produced a better quality of tea, called 
' caamini,'* than that from the wild plant collected in the 
woods. From the practice of reducing the leaf nearly to 
dust probably originated the general custom in South 
America of sucking the infusion when made through a 
tube, at one end of which is a strainer, which prevents the 
small particles of the tea-leaves from getting into the 
mouth : it is usually made very strong, very hot, and very 
sweet with sugar ; its properties seem to be much the same 
as those of the China tea. The Spaniards learned to use 
it from the Guarani Indians. Before Paraguay ceased to 
be a province subject to the government of Buenos Ayres, 
eight million pounds of Paraguay tea were annually sent 
to Santa Fe and Buenos Ayres,— Sir Woodbine Parish* 
Buenos Ayres and the Provinces of the Rio de la Plata. 

• The Indians paid their tribute to the crown in this sort of tea 

PrinUd by William Clowu fc Sows, 8umfb*d-Stre«t, 

Digitized by 




Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. 



[February 8, 1840. 


[Portrait of John Elwes — Jfrom Topham's ' Life of Elwes.'] 

The life of a mere miser can afford so little general in- 
struction and excite so little general interest, that had 
Mr. Elwes been one of that unhappy class, his biography 
would, in all probability, so far as Mr. Topham is con- 
cerned, have remained unwritten : but Mr. Elwes was 
j*rt a mere miser; he possessed qualities that might 
we entitled him to the love and reverence of his friends, 
*nd to the respect and admiration of his countrymen, had 
«*y but been freely developed : they were, however, 
during a considerable portion of his life, more or less 
checked by the unfortunate desire of amassing money, 
*nd they may be said to have ultimately disappeared 
^together beneath the hateful influence of that all-ab- 
sorbing passion. u During the lifetime of Mr. Elwes, I 

* * The Life of the late John Elves, Esq./ member in three 
"Kcteme parliaments for Berkshire, by Edward Topham, Esq., 
«t* captain in the second troop of horse-guards, and magistrate 
w the counties of Essex and York, 
Vol. IX, 

said to him more than once, I would write his life. His 

answer was, c There is nothing in it, Sir, worth mention- 
ing.' That I have been of a different 
will show.' 

different opinion, my labours 
Thus speaks Mr. Elwes's biographer in the 
preface to his very interesting little work, which was at 
first published in portions in a periodical paper called 
the * World, 9 and received by the public with so much 
approbation, that the whole was afterwards issued in a 
collective form, and ran through several editions. As 
much of the interest of the publication results from the 
author's close personal intimacy with Mr. Elwes, and from 
the easy agreeable style of the narration, the following 
account is given as nearly as possible in Mr. Topham's 
own words. 

The family name of Mr. Elwes was Meggot ; and as 
his Christian name was John, the conjunction of ' Jack 
Meggot ' made strangers sometimes imagine that his inti- 
mates were addressing him by an assumed appellation, 

Digitized by 




[February 8, 

His father was a brewer of eminence, who died- while 
Mr. Elwes was only four years old ; little of the character 
of Mr. Elwes was therefore to be attributed to him ; but 
from the mother it may be traced at once ; for though 
she was left nearly one hundred thousand pounds by her 
husband, she starved herself to death. At an early period 
the boy was sent to Westminster School, where he re- 
mained ten or twelve years. During that time he cer- 
tainly had not misapplied his talents, for he was a good 
classical scholar to the last ; and it is a circumstance not 
a little remarkable, though well authenticated, that he 
never read afterwards. His knowledge of accounts was 
very trifling, which may in some measure explain the 
total ignorance he was always in as to his affairs. From 
Westminster School he removed to Geneva, where he 
soon entered upon pursuits more agreeable to him than 
study. The riding-master of the academy there had to 
boast perhaps three of the best riders iu Europe, Mr. 
Worsley, Mr. Elwes, and Sir Sydney Meadows. Of the 
three, Elwes was reckoned the most desperate : the young 
horses were always put into his hands, and he was the 
rough-rider to the other two. During this period he was 
introduced to Voltaire, whom he somewhat resembled in 
point of appearance ; but though he has mentioned this 
circumstance, the genius, the fortune, the character of 
Voltaire never seemed to strike him — they were out of 
his contemplation and his way ; the horses in the riding- 
school he remembered much longer, and their respective 
qualities made a deeper impression on him. On his 
return to England he was introduced to his uncle, Sir 
Harvey Elwes, who was then living at Stoke in Suffolk, 
perhaps the most perfect picture of human penury that 
ever' existed. Mr. Elwes, being at that time in the world, 
dressed like other people. This would not have done 
for Sir Harvey : so the nephew used to stop at a little inn 
at Chelmsford, the expense of which he did not much 
like, and begin to dress in character ; — a pair of small 
iron buckles, worsted stockings darned, a worn-out old 
coat, and a tattered waistcoat were put on, and onwards 
he rode to visit his uncle, who used to contemplate him 
with a miserable kind of satisfaction, and seemed pleased 
to find his heir attempting to come up with him in the 
race of avarice. There they would sit — saving pair ! — 
with a single stick upon the fire, and with one glass of 
wine occasionally betwixt them, talking of the extrava- 
gance of the times ; and when evening shut in they 
would retire to rest, as " going to bed saved candle-light/* 
But the nephew had then, as at all other times, a very 
extraordinary appetite; and this would have been a 
monstrous offence in the eyes of the uncle ; so Mr. 
Elwes was obliged to pick up a dinner first with some 
neighbour in the country, and then return to Sir Harvey 
with a little diminutive appetite that was quite engaging. 
I trust, continues Mr. Topham, a small digression to 
give the picture of Sir Harvey will not be thought un- 
amusing or foreign to the subject. He was, as may be 
imagined, a most singular character. His seclusion 
from the world nearly reached that of a hermit ; and 
could the extremity of his avarice have been taken out 
of the question, a more blameless life was never led. His 
life shows that a man may at length so effectually retire 
into himself, that he may remain little else but vegeta- 
tion in a human shape ! 

Providence perhaps has wisely ordered it that the 
possessors of estates should change like the succession of ' 
seasons : the day of tillage and the seed-time — the harvest 
and the consumption of it — in due order follow each 
other ; and, in the scale of events, are all alike necessary. 
This succession was exemplified in the character of Sir 
Harvey Elwes, who succeeded to Sir Jervoise, his grand- 
father, a very worthy gentleman, who had, however, 
involved, as far as they would go, all the estates. On 
his death Sir Harvey found himself nominally possessed 
of some thousands a year, but really with an income of 

one hundred pounds per annum. He said on his arrival 
at Stoke, the family seat, " that never would he leave it 
till he had entirely cleared the paternal estate ;" and 
he lived to do that, and to realise above one hundred 
thousand pounds in additiou. But he was formed of the 
very materials to make perfect the character of a miser. 
In his youth he had been given over for a consumption 
(though, such is the power of temperance, he lived till 
betwixt eighty and ninety years of age), so he had no 
constitution and no passion; he was timid, shy, and 
diffident in the extreme ; of a thin spare habit of body, 
and without a friend upon earth. Next to his greatest 
delight, the hoarding up and counting over his money, 
was that of partridge-setting, at which he was so great 
an adept, and game was then so plentiful, that he has 
been known to take 500 brace of birds in one season. 
He lived upon partridges ; he and his whole household, 
consisting of one man and two maids. When the day 
was not so fine as to tempt him abroad, he would walk 
backwards and forwards in his old hall to save fire. His 
clothes cost him nothing, for he took them out of an old 
chest, where they had lain since the gay days of Sir 
Jervoise. One evening, after he had retired, some robbers, 
watching their opportunity, obtained admittance into the 
house ; having previously bound the servants, then going 
up to Sir Harvey, they presented their pistols and de- 
manded his money. At no part of his life did Sir 
Harvey behave so well as in this transaction. He would 
give them no answer till they had assured him that his 
servant, whom they had left gagged in the stable, and 
who was a great favourite, was safe : he then delivered 
them the key of a drawer, in which was fifty guineas. 
But they knew too well he had much more in the house, 
and again threatened his life. At length he showed 
them a large drawer, where were 2700 guineas. This 
they packed up in two large baskets, and actually carried 
off, a robbery which, for quantity of specie, had perhaps 
never been equalled. On quitting him, they said they 
should leave a man behind, who would murder him if he 
moved for assistance. On which he very coolly, and with 
some simplicity, took out his watch, which they had not 
asked for, and said, " Gentlemen, I do not want to take 
any of you ; therefore, upon my honour, I will give you 
twenty minutes for your escape ; after that time nothing 
shall prevent me from seeing how my servant does." He 
was as good as his word : when the time expired, he went 
and untied the man. Some years afterwards the fellows 
were taken up for other offences, and known to be those 
who "had robbed Sir Harvey : he was accordingly pressed 
to go and identify their persons : " No, no," said he, 
" I have lost my money, and now you want me to lose 
my time also." When Sir Harvey died, the only tear 
that was dropped upon his grave fell from the eve of the 
servant here alluded to, who had long and faithfully 
attended him. To that servant he bequeathed a farm of 
50/. per annum, " to him and to his heirs." Sir Harvey's 
property was estimated at 250,000/., the whole of which 
was left to the nephew, Mr. Meggot, whose own posses- 
sions at the time were, it was imagined, not much inferior, 
and who, by will, was ordered to assume the name and 
arms of Elwes. In conclusion of this part of the subject, 
it may be observed that the popular view of Sir Harvey's 
character was well expressed in the almost proverbial 
saying, " that nobody would live with Sir Harvey Elwes 
if they could, nor could if they would." 

To this property Mr. Elwes succeed ed when he had 
advanced beyond his fortieth year. For fifteen years pre- 
vious to this period he was well known in the fashionable 
circles of the metropolis. Few men, even from his own 
acknowledgment, had played deeper than himself, and 
with success more various. I remember hearing him say- 
he had once played two days and a night without inter- 
mission ; and the room being a small one, the party -were 
nearly up to their knees in cards. He lost eome thousands 

Digitized by 





at that sitting. Had Mr. Elwes received all he won, he 
would have been the richer by some thousands for the 
mode in which he passed this part of his life, but the 
vowels of I.O.U. were then in use, and the sums that 
were owed him even by very noble names were not 
liquidated. On this account he was a very great loser 
by play. The theory which he professed, " that it was 
impossible to ask a gentleman for money," he perfectly 
confirmed by his practice. It is curious to remark how 
he at this period contrived to mingle small attempts at 
saving with the unbounded dissipation of play. After 
sitting up a whole night risking thousands with the most 
fashionable and profligate men of the time, amidst splen- 
did rooms, gilt sofas, wax lights, and waiters attendant 
on his call, he would walk out about four in the morn- 
ing, not towards home, but into Smithfield to meet his 
own cattle, which were coming to market from Haydon 
Hall, a farm of his in Essex. There would this same 
man, forgetful of the scenes he had just left, stand in the 
cold or rain, bartering witn a carcass-butcher for a shil- 
ling ! Sometimes when the cattle did not arrive at the 
hour expected, he would walk on in the mire to meet 
them ; and mon me on foot the whole 

way to his farm , which was seventeen 

miles from Lond > the whole night. His 

chief country residence at this period was Marcham in 
Berkshire, where he had two sons by his housekeeper, to 
whom he left the whole of his property, with the excep- 
tion of that portion which was entailed upon Mr. Elwes *s 
nephew Colonel Timms. Of the state of the house at Mar- 
cham, that gentleman used to give the following illustra- 
tion : — A few days after he had gone thither to visit his 
uncle, a great quantity of rain fell in the night. He had 
not been long in bed before he felt himself wet through ; 
and putting his hand out of the clothes, found the rain 
was dripping through the ceiling upon the bed. He got 
up and moved the bed, but he had not lain long before 
he found the same inconvenience. Again he got up, and 
again the rain came down. At length, after pushing the 
bed quite round the room, he got into a corner where the 
ceiling was better secured, and he slept till morning. 
When he met his uncle at breakfast, he told him what 
had happened : " Aye, aye," said Mr. Elwes, " I don't 
mind it myself, but to those who do, that's a nice corner 
in the rain !" 

On the death of Sir Harvey, Mr. Elwes went to reside 
at Stoke, and began to keep fox -hounds, the only instance 
in his whole life of his ever sacrificing money to pleasure, 
and the only period when he forgot the cares, the per- 
plexities, and the regret which his wealth occasioned. 
Bat even here everything was done in the most frugal 
maimer. His huntsman might have fixed an epoch in 
the history of servants, for in a morning, getting up at 
four o'clock, he milked the cows; he then prepared 
breakfast for Mr. Elwes, or any friends he might have 
with him ; then slipping on a green coat, he hurried into 
the stable, saddled the horses, got the hounds out of the 
kennel, and away they went into the field. After the 
fatigues of hunting, he refreshed himself by rubbing down 
two or three horses as quickly as he could, then running 
loathe house to lay the cloth and wait at dinner; then 
tarrying again into the stable to feed the horses, diver- 
•fcd with an interlude of the cows again to milk, the 
din to feed, and eight hunters to litter down for the night. 
wjit may appear extraordinary, the man lived there 
%jtome years, though his master used often to call him 
T» idle dog," and say, " he wanted to be paid for doing 
Ntniog !" No hounds were more killing ones than those 
•£Mr. Elwes. The wits of the country used to say, " it 
■Jut be so, or they would get nothing to eat." His 
Hhes were also the admiration of . everybody, yet the 
whole fox-hunting establishment did not cost him three 
kindred pounds a year. 

From the parsimonious manner in which Mr. Elwes now 

lived, for he was fast following the footsteps of Sir Harvey, 
and from the two large fortunes of which he was in pos- 
session, riches rolled in upon him like a torrent ; and had 
he been gifted with that clear and fertile head which, patient 
in accumulation and fruitful in disposition, knows how 
to employ as well as accumulate, which, working from 
principal to interest, by compounding forms a principal 
again, and makes money generate itself; had he pos- 
sessed such a head as this, his wealth would have ex- 
ceeded all bounds. But nature, which sets limits to the 
ocean, forbade perhaps this monstrous inundation of 
property : and as Mr. Elwes knew almost nothing of 
accounts, and never reduced his affairs to writing, he was 
obliged, in the disposal of his money, to trust much to 
memory — to the suggestions of other people still more. 
Hence every person who had a want or a scheme, with 
an apparent high interest — adventurer or honest, it sig- 
nified not — all was prey to him ; and he swam about 
like the enormous pike, which, ever voracious and unsa- 
tisfied, catches at everything, till it is itself caught. I 
do not exaggerate when I say, I believe Mr. Elwes lost 
in this manner during his life full one hundred and fifty 
thousand pounds. But perhaps in this ordination Pro- 
vidence was all-wise. In the life of Mr. Elwes the' lux- 
uriant sources of industry or enjoyment all stood still. He 
encouraged no art ; he bestowed not on any improve- 
ment ; he diffused no blessings around him, and the dis- 
tressed received nothing from his hand. What was got 
from him was only obtained from his want of knowledge 
— by knowledge that was superior; and knaves and 
sharpers might have lived upon him, while poverty and 
honesty might have starved. When however his inor- 
dinate passion for saving was not concerned, he would go 
far and long to serve those who applied to him. Such 
instances as the following are gratifying to select — it is 
plucking the sweetbriar and the rose from the weeds that 
overspread the garden. When Mr. Elwes was at Mar- 
cham, two very ancient maiden ladies had for some neglect 
incurred the displeasure of the ecclesiastical court, and 
were threatened with excommunication. The whole im- 
port of the word they did not perfectly understand, but 
they had heard something about standing in a church, 
and penance, and a white sheet. They concluded if they 
once got into thai it was all over with them ; and as the 
excommunication was to take place next day, they hur- 
ried to Mr. Elwes to know how they could make submis- 
sion, and how the sentence might be prevented ? No 
time was to be lost. Mr. Elwes did that which, fairly 
speaking, not one man in five thousand would have done; 
he had his horse saddled, and putting, according to usual 
custom, a couple of hard eggs in his pocket, he set out 
for London, a distance of sixty miles, that evening, and 
reached it early enough the next morning to notify the 
submission of the culprit damsels. The ladies were so 
overjoyed — so thankful : so much trouble and expense ! 
What returns could they make ? To ease their con- 
sciences on that head, an old Irish gentleman, their neigh- 
bour, who knew Mr. Elwes's mode of travelling, wrote 
these words : " My dears, is it expense you are talking 
of? Send him sixpence, and he gains two pence by the 

journey ' 

[To be continued.] 

In the article on Early English Newspapers in No. 500 
of the * Penny Magazine/ we stated that doubt had been 
thrown on the genuineness of the * English Mercuric' in 
the article 'Newspapers' in the * Penny Cyclopedia/ the MS. 
of which article was in the Editor's hands prior to. the 4th 
of November, the date of Mr. Watts's discovery, This 
was indeed the fact ; but on further investigation, we find 
that the passage alluded to was an addition made at a sub- 
sequent period, and we therefore readily acknowledge that 
the whole merit of the discovery belongs to Mr. Watts 


Digitized by 




Februaut 8, 


[Pattern for Paper- Hangingi.] 

M Intellectual Paper-hangings !" exclaims the reader. 
" Can it be possible that such an idea should enter the 
brain of any rational being; or more, that he should 
suffer his imaginings thus to be embodied in type ? Is 
it not enough to endue ' stone walls * with * ears,' but we 
must have them inspired with mind and language also— 
with senses, affections, passions, and intellectuality ? — 
Surely I am transported to the island of Laputa, and the 
Magazine I behold is issued by the * Academy of Pro- 
jectors of Lagado !' " Well, laugh on, " gentle reader ;" 
thou hadst hetter let thine eyes run over with mirth 
than weep them dry at the thoughts of vice or iniquity. 
But ere thou condemnest the name of a thing, see that it 
be not in some degree applicable to the object; and, if it 
prove descriptive of its qualities, refuse not to atone for 
thy premature contempt by awarding it a portion of thy 
candid consideration. The observations which have led 
to the present paper are not of recent date : we have long 
remarked the unseemly designs which cover the walls of 
most apartments inhabited by the humbler, nay, even by 
the wealthier classes of this country ; and it has occurred 
to us that it would be an easy task, not only to render 
the patterns of paper-hangings more elegant and orna- 
mental, but to introduce a new feature in their construc- 
tion, which, while it should not detract from the elegance 
of their appearance, should invest them with a degree of 

utility calculated to enhance their value in the estimation 
of all right-thinking persons. We propose to do this by 
the introduction of a practice which obtains in most 
eastern countries, particularly in Mohammedan Asia, 
that, namely, of ornamenting the walls and doors of 
apartments with pious and moral sentences taken from 
the Korrin, or from the principal oriental poets and phi- 
losophers. In Turkey and Egypt this custom almost 
universally prevails, and no one can enter the apartments 
of any respectable person or even a shop, without being 
struck by some pious exhortation or by some moral 
maxim couched in the language of poetry. Even in the 
exterior of their houses this practice is observable, and 
the centre of the door, which in England is occupied by 
the name of the proprietor or by the words " Ring the 
Bell," is in Egypt inscribed with a passage from the 
Koran, to remind the visitor of his religious duties, or of 
the short duration of human happiness. 

The poets of Arabia frequently allude to it, and the 
English reader will find repeated references to the prac- 
tice in the ' Tales of a Thousand and One Nights,' which 
Mr. Lane is now enriching with so many valuable notes 
on the manners and customs of the East. Even in 
China (where the rooms of the higher classes are fur- 
nished with considerable elegance, though Chinese ideas 
of taste are very different from ours) the method of 

Digitized by 





thus ornamenting their apartments is very generally pur- 
sued ; the selected sentences being painted on long tab- 
lets, richly gilt and ornamented, and hung on the walls 
similarly to our picture-frames. 

But indeed, as we have already observed, it is a cus- 
tom which pseraib throughout the East ; and although 
it is in some countries regarded by the vulgar as a charm 
against evil spirits or in some other superstitious light, it 
is by those of a higher understanding considered worthy 
of better uses, and doubtless originated in a religious 

It would not be difficult to trace the practice to a very 
early period, and to prove that it extended to other coun- 
tries than those above enumerated ; but it is sufficient 
thus to notice its existence in the present day to avail 
ourselves of its advantages. That a custom so generally 
prevalent in the East (whence we have imported so mucn 
of comfort and luxury and so much of poetry and ro- 
mance) should never "have been adopted in England ap- 
pears a mystery. Wc cannot think that an elegant 
design on the walls of an apartment can lose anything of 
its beauty by conveying to the spectator some ennobling 
thought or virtuous admonition, couched in the language 
of Shakspere or Milton ; nor can we conceive in what 
way the wisdom of the learned or even the precepts of 
religion would be depreciated either in value or effect by 
such a method of communication. We believe we shall 
not be left solitary in our opinion, that a concise sentence 
accidentally impressed on the mind will often produce 
more effect, by starting a train of reflections ultimately 
leading to a good end, than pages upon pages of dispersed 
matter intended to produce the same result. An idle 
humour or the unprincipled thoughts of a vacant hour 
might be checked by such a handwriting on the wall ; 
while the advice of a Franklin or the satire of a Pope 
might serve to fix some wavering resolution or turn aside 
some vicious pursuit. 

Having said so much of the principle of our proposed 
plan and of its employment in other countries, we may 
dow consider it with reference to our own customs, its 
applicability to our apartments, and especially as regards 
its adaptation to our paper-hangings. 

Its utility would be perhaps more appreciated by the 
people of England than it would appear to be by the 

[Oriental Gate.] 

inhabitants of the East, for the former are essentially a 
thinking people, habitually inclined to possess themselves 
of the slightest hint and to work out its intentions to its 
utmost extent ; while the people of Mohammedan coun- 
tries, although to a casual observer they might be con- 
sidered to be perpetually ruminating on the most import- 
ant objects, are almost destitute of an idea, and suffer few 
thoughts of the past or future to disturb the muddy quiet 
of their minds. 

As the principle then of the plan may be said to be 
well adapted to the habits of the English, it remains to 
consider whether the appearance of written sentences on 
the walls would or would not disfigure the apartment or 
the patterns of the paper-hangings on which it is pro- 
posed to inscribe them. These sentences might be painted 
on the wainscot or on tablets fixed to the walls ;* but 
we wish to see more particularly how far the practice is 
applicable to paper-hangings, and to this we shall confine 
our remarks, since the introduction of the question of 
tablets would leads us into another department of orna- 
mental furniture which we do not at present wish to 

The characters of the Arabic alphabet have, when 
combined and formed into words, considerable pretensious 
to gracefulness, and it may be objected that the heavy 

[Modern Egyptian Doorway.] 

* In the' British Museum there U a curious volume contain- 
ing drawings of about forty different tablets, on which sentences 
selected from antient authors are inscribed, and which once orna- 
mented the apartments of Sir Nicholas Bacon. These sentences 
are in Latin, and the designs of the tablets aflbrd tome good 
specimens of the taste of the sixteenth century. They are con- 
tained ima dosen quarto pages, and are all richly coloured and 
Silt. On the first drawing is an inscription informing us that 
ley were " painted in the Lorde Kepar's Gallery at Oorham- 
bury, being selected by him out of divers authors, and sent to the 
good Ladye Lumley at her desire*. 

Digitized by 




[Fbbruajit 8, 

appearance of the Roman letters would frustrate any 
attempt to adapt them to the same useful and ornamental 
purposes to which we have seen the Arabic characters 
applied ; but if the Chinese find their inelegant method 
of writing suitable to such purposes, surely we need not 
hesitate to claim for the Roman characters more indul- 
gence than they generally receive. Yet even if this be 
difficult to obtain, we have only to point to the old Eng- 
lish or German chalcographical characters to indicate a 
means by which the same purposes of utility may be 
achieved with an increased effect, so far as regards the 
elegance of the Titing. The old English and German 
hands may be both rendered greatly superior in appear- 
ance to the Arabic characters ; and if select sentences in 
these were enclosed in richly ornamented borders, in 
wreaths of flowers, &c, the appearance, we conceive, 
could not fail to be pleasing. The engraving at the head 
of this paper will convey some idea of our intentions in 
this respect, and we may make use of it to show how we 
would have the inscriptions varied. As it would not be 
very practicable to have a variety of designs printed on 
the paper, we must suppose that two borders or car- 
touches compose the pattern of the paper (as in the 
wood-cut) ; these may be arranged alternately, both per- 
pendicularly and laterally, until they cover the whole of 
the walls : and, for the rest, we would have the inscrip- 
tions arranged on separate papers, somewhat within the 
size of the borders, so that they may be pasted over the 
blank space in the centre of the border or ornament, until 
every such ornament has an inscription solely to itself. 
On such a plan, the groundwork being laid by the paper- 
hanger, the younger branches of a family might exercise 
their taste and ingenuity (as they were in the habit of 
doing formerly in the manufacture of card-racks, &c.) in 
the execution of selected inscriptions for the blank 

The design of the borders, or groundwork, would how- 
ever require the exercise of considerable taste to render 
it effective ; while it would be necessary to observe great 
circumspection in the selection of the different sentences, 
so as to exhibit the judgment of the decorator in a 
praiseworthy light. Persons of bad taste or unedu- 
cated minds might certainly render them ridiculous, 
but the utility of such an improvement in the deco- 
ration of the interior of our houses as that we have 
suggested should not be judged of from its abuse, which, 
after all, would depend upon the taste of the pro- 

The thing is certainly feasible enough, and the plan 
has this advantage, that it is as applicable to the rich as 
to the poor ; for it must be evident that 6uch a mode of 
adorning the walls of an apartment would not increase 
the present expense of the common papers used for that 
purpose, while it is capable of all the ornamental rich- 
ness which the furniture of a palace would render 


[Continued from No. 503., 

For the situation of his college, Wykeham purchased of 
the prior and convent of the cathedral " two medes," 
called Dumer's Mede and Otterbourne Mede, lying be- 
tween the Sustern Spyfal and the gardens and closes of 
Kyngsgate Strete on the west, and the gardens and closes 
of the Carmelite friars on the south, and a certain house 
of the said prior and convent, called La Carite, to the east. 
In the course of six years this great work was finished ; 
when, on the 28th of March, 1393, John Morys, who had 
been the same day appointed warden, and with him the 
rest of the Society, made their solemn entrance into the 
College, chanting in procession. The Society consisted 
of a warden and ten priests, who were perpetual fellows ; 
a master and second master, seventy scholars, three 

chaplains, three inferior clerks, and sixteen choristers : in 
all 105 on the foundation. After the opening of this 
establishment, Wykeham lived eleven years and a half to 
see its progress, his death having taken place at Bishop's 
Waltham, in September, 1404. 

Such was St. Mary's College when it first became a 
separate and independent establishment, and such it re>* 
mains, with little alteration, to the present day. It is 
true that kings and popes sought to fortify its stability by 
charters and bulls ; but Wykeham himself had so plenti- 
fully endowed it with the ' sinews of war,' that it stood in 
no need of pecuniary support from any other quarter, 
except when new buildings or decorations, probably not 
within the contemplation of the founder, were required. 
By the papal bulls it received certain privileges and 
immunities which were highly esteemed in those days, 
although we of the present time would not set much 
store by them. Among these were permission to have 
the sacramentalia and the administration of all the sa- 
craments, the right to a belfry and bells, and a privilege 
of ordination by any bishop before whom a member of 
the College should present himself for that purpose. 

Notwithstanding all these apparent means of security, 
the dissolution of this College and the seizure of its pro- 
perty were included in the act 37 Henry VIII., c. 4. 
But though this statute remained in force for two years, 
Henry died soon after its enactment, and it was never 
carried into execution ; and when Edward obtained an 
act of dissolution, ratifying in great part that of his 
father, Winchester College was specially exempted, along 
with Eton and the two Universities. Westminster, which, 
as well as Eton, had been formed something on the model 
of this one, had never worn so monastic an air, and there- 
fore such enactments would not apply to it. During the 
the parliamentary ascendency, the existence of Win- 
chester College was again menaced, and would have 
been swept away, had it not been that either Fiennes, who 
was of Wykeham 's kin, or Love, whose father had been 
warden here, had not averted the stroke until the wheel 
of political fortune turned round, and institutions of this 
kind were no longer in danger. Since then the wardens 
and fellows have sat under their vine and their fig-tree 
in plenty and in peace. Wykehamists are numerous and 
respectable in most parts of the country, and many of 
their names stand high in the list of modern literati, 
especially in the poetical department. 

Winchester College is situated immediately to tne 
southward of that part of the old wall of the city which 
used to defend the apartments appropriated to the lodging 
of poor strangers in the cathedral. These buildings 
formed the south side of a large square, along the north 
side of which ran the infirmary, and on the east side the 
workshops for the monks ; while the west side contained 
the apartments for guests, the prior's quarters, and the 
chapter-house. The greater part of these buildings have 
been long since removed, and the site of them is now 
occupied by houses and gardens belonging to the dean 
and members of the chapter. The city wall is also in 
great part removed, or has been transformed into a 
common garden wall. The ditch also has been filled up, 
and is partly occupied by houses and gardens, some of 
which belong to members of the College. College Street 
extends along the south side of these, and the College 
stretches about 150 feet along the south side, and so 
close to the carriage-way as to admit of only a very narrow 
pavement. The north-eastern angle is nearly opposite to 
the south-western one of the once strongly fortified 
Wolvesey Castle, part of the walls of which are still 
nearly entire. From this angle the buildings of the 
College extend southward for about 170 feet; and at the 
south-east corner, which abuts upon one of the many 
streams of the Itchen, there is situated the College-mill, 
which is turned by a stream that flows through great 
part of the city, and is one of those branches of the river 

Digitized by 





which was brought into this course according to the plan 
and under the direction of Bishop Ethelwald. The other 
•ides of the cluster of buildings are very irregular, and 
with the exception of a portion on the north-west, they 
open upon fields belonging to the College, containing the 
home play-ground of the scholars, and the infirmary and 
some other offices, and forming, with the space occupied 
by the College, and a large garden belonging to the warden, 
which lies along the whole eastern side of the buildings, 
the two " medes " which Wykeham purchased from the 
prior and convent of the cathedral. The situation, though 
low, is by no means either damp or unhealthy; for the 
current of the river, and the constant exchange of the 
atmosphere between the downs and the meadows, and 
also between the upper and lower parts of the.'valley, keep 
the air in continual and healthy motion. Indeed it is 
from this stirring of the air over the ground which it 
occupies, that Winchester derived its name — Caer Gucnt, 
Cather an Vian, meaning * the stronghold in the place of 

The front wluch this celebrated school presents to the 
street is anything but handsome, the left flank westwards 
being occupied by sundry offices, and the east by a facade 
of the warden's house, the style of which is neither ancient 
nor modern. Intermediate between these, however, there 
is an arched gateway, or porte-cochfre, and this, though 
by no means handsome, gives sign that the range of 
building of which it occupies the centre is something 
different from a row of ordinary dwelling-houses. Over 
this gateway there is a canopy, supported at the extremi- 
ties by time-worn busts of a king and bishop, which are 
generally supposed to have once been the effigies of Ed- 
ward III. and William of Wykeham. In the front of the 
tower above this canopy there is an ornamented niche, 
containing, in tolerable preservation, a statue of the 
Virgin Mary crowned, with a sceptre in her right hand 
and the infant in her left ; and in the groining of the 
archway under the tower the arms of Wykeham appear 
on the intersections of the arches. 

This gateway leads to the first court or square, or 
rather oblong, the court end of which is occupied by the 
warden's house, which advances upon and conceals 
some portion of the south side ; and the rest is taken up 
by dormitories, offices, and other common apartments. 
The tower over the gateway leading inwards from this 
lira quadrangle is rather more ornamented than that 
towards the street ; and the upper part of k is orna- 
mented by three niches in rich but not gaudy style. The 
middle niche contains a full length figure of the Virgin 
Mary, with a book in her left hand, and her right hand 
elevated towards a figure of the angel Gabriel, which 
occupies the right hand niche, and is pointing to a scroll 
inscribed with the words, Ate y gratia plena (Hail, full 
of grace). The third or left hand niche contains a 
representation of Wykeham, in his episcopal robes and 
mitre, supplicating the blessing of the Virgin, whom, 
according to the custom of the times, he had chosen as 
jus patron saint. The eastern or left wing of this front 
is, as we have said, in part concealed by the modern 
buildings, which thus throw the tower out of the centre, 
and destroy the symmetry of the whole. The archway 
under this tower leads to the second quadrangle, which 
» not so long, but broader, and therefore better propor- 
tioned than the first. The buildings in this quadrangle 
we also in far superior style ; and in so far as they are 
from the designs and executed under the direction of the 
founder, they display that classical simplicity and strength 
which are so conspicuous in every work that he desigued 
or erected. On the south side of the entrance tower, 
facing this quadrangle, the same figures of the Virgin, 
the Angel, and the Bishop, which are on the north side, 
we again repeated ; and on the western part of the south 
side there is a representation of Michael overcoming the 
Dragon, in a niche of the same size and finish as t^at 

upon the tower. The left or west wing of this south 
side of the quadrangle is occupied by the dining-hall, 
the walls of which are supported by bold and massy but- 
tresses, and the windows large and high, and much 
enriched by mullions. This hall is a splendid room, in 
the ancient Gothic style, measuring 63 feet in length and 
33 in breadth. The roof is lofty, and without ceiling ; 
but with the beams and rafters appropriately ornamented, 
especially with bosses at the intersections. The people of 
the middle ages never ceiled their dining-halls either 
with stone or with wood, but left them clear to the roof, 
and with some means of ventilation for carrying off the 
fumes of the dinner ; and this roof is elevated, and has 
openings for this purpose, but so contrived as that neither 
rain nor a current of air shall find entrance. The trusses 
of the roof are supported on the walls by ornamented cor- 
bels, which chiefly represent the heads of kings and 
bishops. The ascent to this hall is by a flight of steps in 
the south-western angle of the court ; and by the bottom 
of the stairs there is a lavatory, where the members of the 
College performed their ablutions as they went to and 
from their meals, personal cleanliness having been strictly 
enjoined in all establishments of the kind. We believe 
that the scholastic exercises used to be given out and 
heard in the apartment under this hall ; and that when 
the weather was too severe for the same being performed 
in the cloisters, they used to frequent the hall for private 
study, under the superintendence of the prefects, in the 
intervals between their meals. The west wing contains 
the kitchen, which is an ample apartment well suited for 
its purpose ; and we believe there has been at no time 
the slightest necessity for complaining of any deficiency 
of the larder. In an apartment near the kitchen there is 
a very singular figure in oil painting, usually termed 
" the trusty servant," and intended perhaps as a stand- 
ing admonition to the servants of the establishment. It 
is what may be called a Honwporcocervoasinus, being 
made up of several parts of a hog, a deer, and an ass, a 
sturdy human being in the costume of a servant, and 
with loads of kitchen implements in his hands, being the 
stock upon which the long ears, the snout with its pad- 
lock, implying silence, and the cloven feet of the deer are 
grafted, which makes the whole look a strange fellow 
indeed. Lest the ingenuity of the contriver, whoever he 
may have been, of this strange similitude, should be lost 
upon any of its admirers, its attributes and their uses 
are set forth in two explanations, one in doggrel Latin 
verse, and another in yet more doggrel English. 

The eastern or right wing of this south side of the 
second quadrangle is occupied by the chapel, the archi- 
tecture of which externally corresponds very well wiih 
that of the hall ; and over the centre of this line of build- 
ing there was a stately tower with turrets, and pinnacles 
at the corners, and containing a ring of five bells. This 
tower was not erected by Wykeham, but by Robert 
Thurburn, the second warden, who was appointed in 
1413, nine years after Wykeham's death, and built this 
tower in 1430 ; and other wardens have made further 
additious and alterations, some for the better, and others 
for the worse. 

The chapel is 33 feet wide, the same as the hall ; but 
the length of it is 102 feet. It consists of a chapel and 
ante-chapel, the latter having rather an unseemly exten- 
sion southward under the tower. The shell of the chapel 
itself is in very excellent style. The windows are spa- 
cious, and filled with stained glass ; and the roof, which 
is made of oak in imitation of a groined roof of stone, is 
at an appropriate height, and very tasteful, being exactly 
in the same style as the ceiling, of the same kind, which 
is over the presbytery of Winchester cathedral. The great 
east window is spacious in its dimensions, and has its mul- 
lions very chastely disposed, and being entirely filled with 
stained glass, it throws a dim but warm aad mellowed light 
over the whole interior. It has been the subject of prose 

Digitized by 




[February 8,1840. 

description, and also the theme of song in a descripto- 
eulogic poem by Bishop Lowth, the biographer of Wyke- 
ham. The principal story is the genealogy of Jesus 
Christ ; and the names and characters of the several per- 
sons are made out without any difficulty; in other parte 
of it there are more modern subjects, among which may 
be discerned the apostles Peter and Paul. In the centre 
there is the Crucifixion, and in the upper part the Re- 
surrection ; but the latter h modern, having been re- 
stored by an artist of Winchester. There is also a label, 
in church characters, and inviting the visitor to " Pray 
for the soul of William of Wykeham, founder of this 
College." The other windows are also filled with stained 
glass, exhibiting a numerous and merged collection of 
kings, bishops, priests, abbots, nuns, and other worthies, 
the characters and labels of which cannot be very well 
made out without a glass. The dim light admitted by 
the windows and the dark colour of the oaken ceiling 
give a peculiarly solemn air to the interior of this chapel. 
The altar-piece is appropriate to the ornaments which 
Wykeham himself distributed over so many parts of these 
buildings, although the placing of it there is compara- 
tively modern. It was presented to the College by Doctor 
Burton, who was head master during some part of the 
eighteenth century. The painter's name is Le Moine, an 
artist of but little celebrity ; but still the picture is a 
pleasing one. The subject of it is the Annunciation of 
the Virgin, being the same which Wykeham himself had 
repeated on the north and south sides of the tower over 
the gateway leading to the second quadrangle. It is 
understood that very little costly plate belongs to this 
chapel ; and it has been surmised, though we know not 
with what truth, that the rich furniture which it once 
possessed was given to Edward VI., in order that, thus 
bribed, the College might be exempted from the penalties 
of the act of dissolution. We should be slow in giving 
credit to a charge of this kind ; but it is certain that the 
chapel once possessed splendid plate, which is now gone, 
without any account of the mode of its going being re- 
corded. Among other things it is expressly mentioned 
that Henry VI. bestowed upon it a tabernacle of gold, 
with a chalice and phials of the same costly materials ; 
and these do not seem to have made their appearance in 
modern times. 

[To be continued.] 

Labour. — Bread, wine, and cloth are things of daily use 
and great plenty ; yet notwithstanding acorns, water, and 
leaves or skins, must be our bread, drink, and clothing, did 
not labour furnish us with these more useful commodities ; 
for whatever bread is more worth than acorns, wine than 
water, and cloth and silk than leaves, skins, or moss, that is 
solely owing to labour and industry: the one of these being 
the food ana raiment which unassisted nature furnishes us 
with; the other provisions which our industry and pains 
prepare for us, which how much they exceed the other in 
value, when any one hath computed, he will then see how 
much labour makes the far greater part of the value of things 
we enjoy in this world. — Locke's Essay on Civil Go 

Popular Russian Prints. — If you desire to feel the eccen 
trie movements of the Russian pulse and phrenologise upon 
the protuberances of the national skull, in so far as you 
deal with the weaker shades of character, you must noway 
omit paying a visit to the picture-booths in the Moscow 
" rag- fair." These progeny of Muscovite imagination issue 
from an aboriginal manufactory, into the darkness of which 
no modern light has hitherto penetrated, and are painted 
with the pure and unadulterated hues of the Sclavonian taste, 
such as it may have existed some centuries ago. The prin- 
cipal vent for this manufacture is at Moscow, the heart of 
the empire, and immense quantities of the article are sup- 
plied from hence to the remotest corners of Russia. They 

are all more or less of a religious, or rather of a mytholo- 
gical and allegorical cast, and serve as well for the purpose 
of papering for drinking shops as of decorations for the 
peasants' cabins. There is not an occurrence of note, from 
the creation down to the closing of the Dardanelles, which 
is not held forth in red, green, and yellow, to the credulous 
•'wonderment" of the native, randemonium however 
appears to me to come in for a much larger share of favour- 
itism than its antipode; the daubs have more to do with 
devils than angels. Death, andvSatan, and Gospodin 
Straptschik, as the Russian calls him, the devil's adjutant, 
cut a far more conspicuous figure than seraph or cherubim. 
Here you will meet with the whole host of monsters de- 

Sicted in the Apocalypse, whether Babylonish, Assyrian, 
lacedonian, or Roman. Strange the incongruity !— the 
divinities of Athens and the City of the Seven Hills looking 
down upon the household ways of a coarse serf. The origi- 
nals of these prints bear traces of Greek descent, lor I 
remarked types of them along the walls and passages of 
several chur imilitudea 

before me, n< al conceit 

from the bn 3r, for in- 

stance, to ha onveut of 

Novospassky lobe with 

serpents* tail is dragon, 

grinning his n friendly 

conclave. 1 my of the 

subjects. C tenesehnoi 

Diavvol" (tl characters 

over it, and i * my jour- 

neying*. It 1 hovering 

over the eart his hands, 

feet, nose, i mong the. 

coils of his , mess's ad- 

jutant, is se< nster and 

bidding hin Mercury's 

caduceus. ' of human 

beings, eage Here you 

have a bakei kness with 

a thick rope text comes 

a cobbler, ui sten a line 

of packthread to nis ioe, unci appears uiteiy 10 get but little 
for his pains. Then we have a publican bringing out all 
his stock of barrels, bottles, and pots, and giving free exit 
to their spirituous contents, in order that they may catch 
the enriching drops; while in the martyrdom of his thirst 
after them he raises his goblet on high to make caption of 
some stray ones which are falling behind him. Next we 
have a fair dame in all the majesty of Muscovite beauty, to 
wit, each cheek crimsoned with a thick layer of red paint 
and redolent with en-bon-point t such as would well become 
a city alderman. Aloft you see a papa (priest) mounted on 
his pulpit, stretching out his left hand as if to enforce his 
doctrine, and holding out his cap in his right to stay some 
particles of the shower in their descent ; his infernal ma- 

iesty, ad interim* pouring down blessings upon him by 
lantlsfull. In the immediate vicinity of the pulpit there 
is seen one of the church vessels, into which a whole beam 
of gold is glancing. The most singular character in the 
motley group is a shivopissetz (an artist or painter) ; a brace 
of squirrels are dancing on his shoulders, a number of but- 
terflies are fluttering in the air, which are tied to his cap by 
fine threads, and the cap itself is bedizened with quills and 
brushes. The churl of the pallet is placed away from the 
rest, beyond the reach of the golden rays, firing a pistol in 
the air — a sorry experiment this, for were he even to hit bis 
mark, he would be no gainer by it, seeing that the devil and 
all his treasures would necessarily pounce down among the 
other dramatis persona?. In one corner appears a little 
monkey of very wise and staid features, looking on with 
much listlessness, his hand raised, and seemingly haranguing 
the crowd, though none stops to hear him. I could not 
make out the meaning of the words which are coming out 
of his mouth. Of this description are many of the humour- 
ous products of the Moscow plastic preis.— Notes of a Jour- 
ney in Russia. 

"It M 

V The Office of the Society for the DtflTni too of Ueeiul Know)elt*jH* 
59. Lincoln'* Ion Field*. 


> Printed by Wilmam Cuwn end Bovt, Stamford Stxeet, 

Digitized by 




Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. 



[February 15, 1840. 


[View of the Land-slip near Axmouth. Devon, looking west, J 

IFrom a Correspondent^ 

The phenomenon of which we are about to speak is of 
such rare occurrence, and of so extraordinary a nature, 
as to deserve the consideration and interest not only of 
geologists, but of every thinking person. It had been 
asserted at first that the convulsion was literally an earth- 
quake ; but on examination of the spot, and on consider- 
ing the position of the strata and the external produciug 
causes acting on them, this supposition will probably be 
given up. Whatever may have been the cause, the de- 
vastation and the ruin produced, and the disruption of 
(he whole district extending nearly one mile and a half, 
are equal, within the space, to the effects of many vol- 
canic eruptions of Southern Europe or of Mexico. This 
is not however the first time that the southern coast of 
England has been visited by a like occurrence ; similar 
convulsions have occurred in the Branscombe Cliffs west 
of Beer Head, at the Pinhay Cliffs near Lime, and the 
Undercliff in the Isle of Wight. But no record or ac- 
count of these, as to the age in which they happened, is 
now existing, either written or traditionary. Setting 
aside the idea then, that subterranean fire has been the 
agent, we must look to something else ; and we come to 
the conclusion that water, acting on the soil of the dis- 
trict, predisposed from its nature to be so acted upon, 
fats been the main cause. In order to enter on a brief 
explanation of this, it is necessary to mention the posi- 
tion and distribution of the series of rocks running along 
this coast First we have the chalk ; this rests on a stra- 
tum of moderately indurated sandstone, alternating with 
Vol. IX. 

beds of that species of flint denominated chert : this lies 
on the new red-sandstone formation, or red marl ; or, as 
it is provincially termed in the neighbourhood, " fox- 
mould :" and this last is incumbent on the lias, in which 
there occurs a great quantity of tough and impervious 
clay. The fox-mould is confidently supposed to be the 
formation in which the great disturbing causes have 
arisen ; for it is of a loose, spongy nature, and imbibes 
all the moisture which falls on the surface in the form of 
rain, or which filters through the upper strata from dis- 
tant springs. This moisture could not subside to the 
lias below, owing to the imperviousness of the clay, which 
resists it there, and on which the water rests, as on the 
bed of a well puddled canal. Where these strata there- 
fore show their basseting edges, or where they crop out 
along the declivity of the cliff, springs will be seen issu- 
ing from the soft fox-mould immediately above the clay. 
In the course of ages these springs carry with them, 
slowly but inevitably, great quantities of the friable and 
loose earth, undermining the superincumbent strata, and 
preparing them for u subsidence as soon as an extraor- 
dinary wet season, such as we have just experienced, shall 
both hurry away more of the remaining support from 
beneath, and saturate with a greater weight of moisture 
the several soils above. 

The chasm runs east and west, nearly a mile and a 
half in length, and somewhat curved; the convex part ot 
the curve being toward the north, and the centre of the 
circle, of which it forms a segment, towards the south. 
The depth of the chasm is said to be between 200 and 

Digitized by 





300 feet, and its width is twice ot thrice that number of 
feet. This long strip of land has subsided, towards the 
middle of it, with great regularity and precision : large 
areas of four different fields, with their surfaces unbroken, 
and only somewhat thrown from their original level, still 
bear their crops of turnips and young wheat. The hedges 
too, which divided these fields, and which run to the 
brink of the precipice and there stop, can be traced across 
the portions which have subsided, and their correspond- 
ing hedges further traced on across the land on the other 
side of the gulf. This regularity however does not 
range throughout. The western end is much disrupted ; 
but it is towards the eastern extremity that the greatest 
ruin and devastation have marked the face of the country. 
Vast pinnacles like immense towers of chalk are left 
standing, wbilc the more friable portions have sunk away 
around them ; huge banks of flint, boulders which 
have fallen from above and now rest in the bottom of the 
chasm, rocks rent asunder, fissures seaming the cliffs, 
trees uprooted, and the ruins of two cottages which stood 
in the midst, altogether form a scene of wildness, desola- 
tion, and grandeur, at once awful and sublime. 

It was about three o'clock on Tuesday morning, the 24th 
December, 1839, that the family of Mr. Chappell of 
Dowland's Farm, situated about half a mile from the 
actual disturbances, were awoke by a crushing and rend- 
ing noise : nothing however again occurred for twenty- 
five hours, that is, till four o'clock on Christmas morning, 
when the inhabitants of one of the now ruined cottages 
were awoke by hearing similar sounds, so violent as to 
make them get up. On going down stairs the man dis- 
covered that the floors of his cottage were thrown out of 
their level,. and the door so warped and jammed that he 
was unable to open it without violence. He found that 
several large fissures were running through the ground on 
which his dwelling stood; and he instantly hurried off 
to Mr. Chappell his landlord, to mention the circum- 
stance. The whole of Christmas-day the convulsion con- 
tinued, and was witnessed by several persons whom the 
writer has conversed with on the spot. They described 

the noise as resembling crackling thunder ; sometimes as 
if distant and confined, and sometimes as if near and 
terrific. They saw the earth sink, some portions slowly, 
and others with precipitancy and ruin. Some teams of 
horses, which they nad with them in the fields, were 
so terrified as to tremble and be totally incapable of work. 
The sinking however of this immense extent of country, 
comprehending portions of four fields and an entire or- 
chard, many of whose trees are still standing, a large 
wood composed of ash, oak, hazel, and beech, besides a 
great range of sheep pasture, all this is but one moiety of 
the phenomenon. Between the chasm so sunk, which 
runs parallel with the coast and the sea-beech, there is a 
large area measuring one mile in length by about half as 
much in width, now cut off from the mainland by the 
chasm. This great mass was forced many yards towards 
the sea, and is scored wi ant with fissures. 
The bottom of the sea along in front of 
it for a mile has been tr. so that what be- 
fore was seven fathcms v . , „j affirmed by the 

com lc qua in ted 

witl vater-level 

in e -weed and 

mar feet long, 

encl bave been, 

and water. 

T mense : it 

belo ibout five 

mile ire endea- 

voui ss of their 

crop all visitors 

who are taking 

7/. i s but 280 

visit ; after the 

cata y stood, as 

the farmer expressed it, " as thick as a flock of sheep." 
Unfortunately for them the idea of levying toll did not 
occur at first, nor until they discovered that so much of 
their crops as had not fallen away were being destroyed 
by being trampled under foot. 

[Plan of the Land-slip near Axmouth, Devon.] 

Digitized by 





ASSAM.— No. I. 

Pepts, secretary to the admiralty in the reign of Charles 
II. and James II., says, in his pleasant and gossiping 
Diary, dated 1661, that he "sent for a cup of tea, a 
Chinese drink, of which he had never drank before." 
Early in the last century tea had come more into use, and 
in 1134 the consumption amounted to 632,374lbs. In 
1838 the quantity of tea consumed in the United King- 
dom was 32,35 l,5931bs., or it may be stated in other 
words at nearly 400,000 chests, weighing in the aggregate 
above 1400 tons. The duty of 2s. Id. per lb. produced 
the sum of 3,362,035/. The large quantity of tea every 
year required for the consumption of this country has 
hitherto been obtained solely from the Chinese, with 
whom we have long had commercial relations, though 
for some years our intercourse has been in an un- 
certain and unsatisfactory state, and at this moment is 
totally suspended. The price of tea is in consequence 
higher than it has been at any time since the opening of 
the trade to China in 1833, and there is every prospect of 
the advance being maintained for a considerable period, 
at least until the present differences are settled. It is 
not however the suspension of the trade — for that may 
he only temporary — which gives importance to the sub- 
ject of the present notice, but its connection with the wel- 
fare and happiness of that mighty empire placed under 
our dominion in India. The interruption in the supply 
of tea through the ordinary channels may render idle 
British capital employed in commercial shipping, but as 
it is not likely that the Chinese should carry their anti- 
social policy so far as to exclude all foreigners from 
Canton, we might, even though shut out ourselves, still 
rely upon being supplied with teas by other nations, who 
would gladly become our carriers. The present state of 
our intercourse with the Chinese is undoubtedly a subject 
of great interest, uncourteous as they are to the English 
and other foreign • barbarians ;' but, as we stated before, 
the trial now making in Assam to cultivate the tea plant 
for commercial purposes derives its importance from the 
advantages which the introduction of a branch of industry 
suited to their quiet and sedentary habits will confer upon 
our fellow-subjects in India. They have been deprived 
of their occupations in many instances, and their skill and 
industry have been superseded by the power-looms of 
Manchester and Glasgow ; but if we could be supplied 
with tea from India instead of China, such an employ- 
ment as the cultivation and making of tea would promote 
peaceful habits of industry among the Hindoos, would 
reader the slopes of barren mountains fruitful, and add an 
additional staple for export equal in value to that of the ag- 
gregate mass of indigenous articles now shipped to Eng- 
land, and thus prevent the loss in exchange which the East 
India Company experience in remitting home their terri- 
torial revenues. It is on these grounds that we regard the 
Assam experiment with feelings of no ordinary interest ; 
and the following account of the circumstances under 
which it originated is drawn up from authentic sources, 
under the conviction that many of the readers of this 
work are likely to entertain a similar feeling. 

When we consider that all the indigo formerly used in 
England was grown in South America, and that now, 
out of 7,000,0001bs. imported into this country each year, 
less than 150,0001bs. is from that quarter, while from 
India, where attention only began to be paid to the cul- 
tivation of indigo about the commencement of the present 
century, we obtain 6,500,0001bs., or thirteen-fourteenths 
of the whole quantity imported, and that in some other 
commodities the like revolutions have occurred, we are 
prepared to see without surprise similar changes in pro- 
cess hi respect to tea or any other article of extensive 
consumption. These vicissitudes, indeed, are always 
worthy of attention, as they involve the practical applica- 
tion of a knowledge of botany or physical geography, of 

geology, or some other department of knowledge, and 
sometimes they illustrate the spirit of commercial inter- 
course betwixt nations. 

The tea-plant, it must be observed, is capable of en- 
during great variety of climate, though often considered 
indigenous to China. It flourishes over a space greater 
than most plants, thriving luxuriantly within the tropics, 
and growing in sheltered situations in Devonshire and 
Cornwall ; but though it sustains itself tolerably well in 
this country, it does not blossom with us except when 
stimulated by the artificial heat of the conservatory. The 
apparent ease with which the tea-tree is naturalised, and 
its Commercial value, have led to its introduction in 
various quarters. It has been cultivated by the Japanese, 
Javanese, and Burmese, for the sake of the leaf; and in 
Brazil, Carolina, the Caribbee Islands, Martinique, Pe- 
nang, New South Wales, Ceylon, St. Helena, Corsica, 
and even in the environs of Paris attempts have been 
made to naturalise it with the design of deriving a profit 
from its produce. The failure which has attended the 
experiment in all the latter countries is to be attributed 
to uncongeniality of temperature or soil, or to the com- 
bined defects of both. Du Halde states that even in China 
the leaves produced from the tea-plant, when it grows on 
a clayey soil and in a low situation, are very inferior, and 
yield even a disagreeable flavour. To all appearance the 
plant is as flourishing as those which produce the best 
kind of tea, and yet the leaves do not possess their genuine 
properties. The vine, the tobacco, rhubarb, poppy, and 
many common garden plants are occasionally defective 
in flavour from an analogous cause. 

If we look to China, we find the great tea districts from 
which Europe is supplied extending from latitude 2T to 
31° north. These districts are remote from the sea ; the 
surface of the country is hilly and mountainous, and the 
soil light and gravelly ; the climate moist, but not im- 
moderately so ; the winter of six weeks* or two months' 
duration, and in summer the sun is extremely powerful. 
All attempts to render the tea-plant an object of profitable 
cultivation are sure to fail unless the soil, temperature, 
and situation of the place where it is transplanted are such as 
are naturally congenial to it. The best teas of China are 
produced over an extent of country whose mean annual 
temperature ranges from 54° to 73° ; the heat of summer 
not descending below 80°, and the cold of winter ranging 
from 54° to 26° : a mean annual range of from 56° to 64° 
is considered the most favourable temperature. The 
sides of mountains or considerable hills on their southern 
aspect, and where the soil consists of the disintegrated 
rock, is the best situation for planting. 

Such being the conditions necessary to enable the tea- 
plant to arrive at perfection, we must attribute the nume- 
rous failures which have occurred to insufficient infor- 
mation concerning the physical geography of the parts 
where it is known to be most successfully cultivated. 
The gross blunders which have been committed can be 
accounted for on no other ground. One gentleman who 
established a large tea plantation at Penang found, on the 
arrival of the season for gathering the leaves, which were 
thick, hard, and leathery, that on infusion they had 
acquired slightly emetic properties. Early in the present 
century the cultivation of the tea-plant was commenced 
on a large scale at Rio Janeiro ; Chinese were introduced 
to prepare the leaves, but the flavour of the infusion was 
so far from being such as could be wished, that the 
plantation was necessarily abandoned. 

Penang is situated near the equator, the temperature 
is equable during the whole year, but the mean annual 
heat is 80°, and the annual fall of rain is excessive, 
amounting to eighty inches. Rio Janeiro is also within 
the tropic, and here also the mean annual heat, as well 
as the moisture, is too great. We need not proceed 
further in pointing out the cause of failure in other cases 
where the temperature, situation, and other circumstances 


Digitized by 




[February 15 

differed widely from those which prevail in the tea dis- 
tricts of China. 

Nearly half a century ago (in 1793) Lord Macartney, 
while on his embassy to China, procured a supply of tea- 
plants and sent them to Bengal, believing, as Staunton 
says, that that part of India contained districts which 
would prove favourable to their cultivation. We do not 
know what was the fate of these plants. Dr. Wallich 
noticed, in 1818, a tea-plant thriving vigorously in Ne- 
paul. About the year 1820, Mr. Bruce penetrated into 
the forests of Sudiya, and found the wild tea- tree. In 
1826, it appears that Mr. David Scott, then employed in 
the district of Munnipore, sent to Calcutta specimens of 
the leaves of a shrub which he asserted to be the real 
tea- plant, and though there is considerable difficulty in 
distinguishing the Camellia from the tea-tree, subsequent 
events are in favour of Mr. Scott's discovery. In 1827, 
when Lord Wm. Bentinck was appointed Governor- 
general of India,' an intelligent gentlemau of the name 
of Walker urged upon his Excellency the great advantage 
which India would derive from the successful introduc- 
tion of the tea- plant ; and in 1832, at the request of the 
Right Hon. Charles Grant (now Lord Glenelg), who was 
then secretary of the Board of Control, Dr. Wallich 
drew up a valuable paper containing a series of observa- 
tions on the cultivation of the tea-plant for commercial 
purposes in the mountainous parts of Hindustan. For- 
tunately the Governor-general became impressed with 
views of a similar nature, and in an official minute dated 
January, 1834, he laid down for consideration the ques- 
tion " whether there are not reasonable grounds for the 
conclusion that there must be, in all the varieties of cli- 
mate and soil between the Himalaya and Cape Comorin, 
combinations of both that must be congenial to this par- 
ticular plant ; and next, how far it may be practicable 
to have from China cuttings of the tree and best descrip- 
tions of the plant, and knowledge and skill for its culti- 
vation, and for the subsequent process of preparing the 
leaves for use." There began now to be prospects of 
fairly realising the project of cultivating tea in India, 
and this minute of the Governor -general's concluded by 
strongly recommending the attempt. On the 1st of Feb- 
ruary, 1834, the Governor- general appointed a committee 
for the purpose of devising a plan to be laid before go- 
vernment on the best means of accomplishing the pro- 
posed object and superintending its execution. This 
committee was called the "Committee of Tea Cul- 
ture," and consisted of gentlemen of high character and 
great intelligence lesident at Calcutta. 

[To be continued.] 


The saving of time is one of the great features which 
distinguish a busy nation from others whose transactions 
are of less extent and importance. In the application of 
steam-power to manufacturing purposes, in propelling 
ships by the same power, in the employment of a rail- 
road as a medium of communication between distant 
towns, the saving of time, although not the only, is the 
chief advantage gained over previous arrangements. It 
is precisely in the same light that we are to view the 
object and utility of Telegraphs, instruments employed 
for the communication of intelligence to a distant station 
in a very short space of time. 

In the common events of life, speaking and writing are 
sufficient to serve as agents for communicating our 
thoughts to others; but when a considerable distance 
separates the parties, loss of time is an inevitable accom- 
panying difficulty. The human voice, under ordinary 
circumstances, cannot be heard beyond a limited range. 
There is, indeed, an instance on record, in which persons 
have conversed at a distance of one mile and a quarter : 
this occurred when Captain Parry was at Port Bowen, in 

one of his winter-quarters, on which occasion two person* 
conversed at the distance here stated, a broad surface of 
ice separating them. But this is of course an extreme 
case, and is as little to be taken as a standard of the audi- 
bility of sounds, as is a well authenticated case in the 
opposite extreme, where, during the American War, the 
motions of a drummer beating his drum were distinctly 
visible, while the sound was totally inaudible : in this 
case, a thick mass of snow covered the intervening 
ground. We know, however, that in common circum- 
stances the voice is audible only within a very limited 

On the other hand, if the communication be made, in 
writing, the distance may be unlimited, but the messen- 
ger, the mail, the ship, consumes time in conveying it. 
None of the ordinary methods by which speed is attained 
are sufficient to overcome this difficulty, and, except in 
particular cases, we do not recognise the difficulty as a 
fatal one; we are willing to conform to what appears 
inevitable. But suppose a necessity to arise for the im- 
mediate conveyance of intelligence to a distance: sup- 
pose that an army is divided into different corps, aad 
spread over a great extent of country ; that any central 
body whatever wishes to issue orders of importance to 
its agents scattered far and wide ; that a country is in 
danger of foreign attack ; that the government at the 
capital is desirous of hearing important news from a sea- 
port ; that this news is of a kind that ought to be known 
throughout the whole country : in any such case, every 
minute teems with importance ; and half a dozen words 
expressed and communicated instantaneously might be 
of more value than a whole document if delayed several 
hours. Such circumstances have occurred, the desirable- 
ness of such rapidity of communication has been felt, 
and the means of accomplishing it have been devised. 
All such means are called Telegraphs, a name derived 
from two Greek words, which, as well as the German 
name Fernschreibrnasclune, imply distant writing-ma- 

Before machines deserving the name of telegraphs were 
invented, signal-lights were frequently used in naval and 
military operations. Large fires, torches, rockets, &c. 
have been employed to produce a signal which shall be 
visible to a great distance ; while drums, trumpets, ex- 
plosions of gunpowder, firing of cannon, &c. have been 
used as audible signals. The writings of so many an- 
cient authors contain allusions to such contrivances, that 
there is no doubt of their extensive use in early times. 
Still, however, such means were inadequate to the carry- 
ing on of conversation : a very few preconcerted signals 
were all that could be attained. It was not, indeed, 
until 1793 that the term telegraph* was applied to any 
machine for such a purpose, or that a distant conversing- 
machine was actually brought into public use. Yet such 
a contrivance had been suggested more than a century 
before. The Marquis of Worcester, in his ' Century of 
Inventions,' speaks of a method of holding converse with 
distant persons both by night and day ; but he gives no 
account of the means. Dr. Hooke, in 1684, made a 
suggestion which was in every way more clear and satis- 
factory. He proposed, that in order to keep up a com- 
munication between two distant places, certain elevated 
intermediate stations should be chosen, and at each station 
persons provided with telescopes capable of commanding 
a view of the adjoining stations. At each station should 
be erected a frame- work, from which is suspended several 
deal boards, hinged together at the corners, so that by 
exposing to view those boards, the peculiar manner in 
which they are arranged shall be visible to the telescopic 
observer at the next station, and shall convey to him a 
signal, the meaning of which is to be previously agreed 
upon. The boards are then to be differently arranged, 

• The French in the fint instance applied the term « Sema- 
phore* (lign-bearer) to their telegraph. 

Digitized by 





by which a different signal will be conveyed, and so on. 
It was Dr. Hooke's fortune to be the first proposer of 
many contrivances which in subsequent years others fol- 
lowed out. Such was the case with respect to the tele- 
graph, as we shall presently see. 

Other contrivances were proposed by Amontons, Mr. 
Lovell Edgeworth, &c. But we must come down to the 
year 1793. At that period Chappe erected a telegraph 
on the roof of the principal pavilion of the Louvre at 
Puis, in order to convey orders from the Committee of 
Public Safety to the French army stationed at Lisle. The 
orders were written out and sent up to the telegraph, the 
managers of which put the orders into a telegraphic 
form, by which they were visible to the persons at the 
second station, situated on Montmartre. At Montmartre 
the same signals were again repeated, and made visible 
to the persons at the third station ; and so on until the 
orders reached Lisle, the stations being three or four 
leagues distant from one another. Three persons were 
placed at each station : one person with telescopes to 
observe the distant signal ; another to write it down and 
to give the necessary orders to the third, who worked the 
machine, in order to convey the information to the ad- 
joining station. Some of the signals used were for words, 
others for letters. Three signs were made in one minute, 
to that a whole sentence could be rapidly communicated 
from station to station. Without going into the intri- 

A / <f v< < 

g N K Is V ^ 

Fig, 2. 

cacies of mechanism, the annexed cut may show how 
different signs were expressed by three planks. Through 
the middle of a small hut (Jig. 1, A), which served as an ob- 
, servatory, rose a strong mast or beam, BC, to a considerable 
height above the roof of the hut. On the top of this 
was placed a horizontal plank, DE, moving freely round 
s pivot at C. At the ends were two shorter planks, FF, 
which moved likewise on pivots at D and E. Several 
ropes were carried up the mast and made to act severally 
on the three pivots, so that each one was completely in 
the power of the persons stationed in the hut below. The 
object, therefore, was to place the three arms in various 
rclaove positions, each position being a symbol for some 
particular word or letter : Jig. 2 will convey an idea of 
some of the very numerous positions into which the ma- 
chine may be thrown, each pivot being acted on inde- 
pendently of the other two. From the window in the 
hut, the observer, with a telescope, observed the signals 
made at the adjoining station. The ropes and other 
machinery of the telegraph we need not show here. 

This contrivance was found to answer so well its in- 
tended purpose, that the English Admiralty soon after- 
wards resolved on adopting a telegraphic communication 
from London to Deal, Portsmouth, and other towns on 
the coast The plan adopted was scarcely so simple as 
thst of Chappe : we shall here described it, and shall 
represent by a cut the signal-boards, but divested (for the 
**)ce of simplicity) of the ropes and other working ma- 
chinery. On the top of the Admiralty was erected a 
fame-work, containing six octagonal boards, 1, 2, 3, 4, 
&i 6. Each of the^e boards was moveable on a horizon- 
tal axis, so as to present sometimes its whole surface, and 
«t other times only its edge, to an observer. _ Fig. 3 (a) 

Fig. 3 (a). 

Fig. 3 (o). 

represents the frame with the surfaces of all the boards 
presented to view ; in^. 3 (6) only the edges are visible, 
the boards having been turned one-quarter round on their 
axes. Up the central space are arranged the ropes and 
pulleys for moving the boards. Now the signals conveyed 
t>y this telegraph depended on how many, and which, of 
the six openings were closed by the boards. When the 
machine was not at work, all the ports or doom were 
open, as in (6); when the port (1) was closed by its 
board or shutter, it signified a certain letter or word ; 
when (2) was closed, it signified a different letter or 
word; when both (1) and (JO were closed, the meaning 
was again changed, and so on. It admits of calculation, 
that the number of different combinations of closed doors, 
from one to six, capable of being produced, is about 
sixty ; and of this number the Admiralty selected thirty- 
six of the most convenient, to express the letters of the 
alphabet, comma, semicolon, the words " attention," 
" repeat," u error," and one or two others. With this 
apparatus, many important despatches, commands* &c. 
were conveyed to and from London during the last war, 
there being telegraphs at intermediate stations between 
Loudon and the southern coast. 

But this machine was not so convenient as the one by 
Chappe; it was too ponderous to be elevated to any 
great height; and moreover the boards wer.e not visible 
at so great a distance as the planks in the French tele- 
graph, a circumstance which rendered it necessary to 
have the stations closer together. Accordingly, in 1816, 
the old telegraph was taken down from the Admiralty, 
and another on a different principle erected. But some 
years before this, various changes in the French tele- 
graphs were made; particularly in 1806, when new ones 
were erected on the whole extent of the French coast. 
The construction of these was very simple : an upright 
post was fixed, and to it were attached three arms at equal 
distances. These arms were capable of turning on a 
horizontal axis in any direction, by pivots placed at their 
ends. Each arms was governed by a rope from below, 
and the various signs were given by the various positions 
in which the arms were placed ; thus, if the arms were 
all horizontal, one sign was expressed ; if two were hori- 
zontal, and the other concealed behind the vertical part, 
another sign was expressed ; if all inclined upwards, a 
third sign ; if all inclined downwards, a fourth, and so 
on. By various combinations of position, 342 distinct 
and very visible signs could be conveyed. 

The telegraph adopted in England in 1816, from the 
suggestion of Sir Home Popham, is an improvement on 
the' French machine just described. It consists merely 
of an upright post with two arms ; the various positions 
of these two arms represent the letters of the alphabet, 
and a few other necessary signs. The great improvements 
in this form of the machine are these: — 1, the arms, 
when not in use, are entirely enclosed in the hollow ver- 
tical part ; 2, the communication from beneath, by which 
the arms are moved, is made by long spiudles, terminated 
with a mechanism of toothed wheels at each end, instead 
of the ropes and other shrinking materials of the older 
methods; by this a more vigorous and certain move- 
ment is obtained ; 3, there are dial-plates at the bottom 
of the upright post, with indexes or hands, which, by 

Digitized by 




[February 15, 

being connected with the spindles that move the arms, 
always indicate the precise positions in which the arms 
are placed, so that by looking at the dials (which are 
within a small room or observatory) it can be seen what 
movements are necessary to produce a new sign, the 
movements being made by two men working winches 
connected with each arm ; 4, the whole machine is move- 
able on a central pivot, so that the broad surface of the 
arms can be turned in any direction ; whereas in the 
old method, the boards could only be 6een in one direc- 

These details will be sufficient to convey to the general 
reader some idea of the principle on which telegraphs 
have been generally constructed. But it may be neces- 
sary to state, that in these telegraphs the observers at 
each station must employ telescopes to read the symbols 
exhibited at the adjoining stations ; also, that it must be 
previously agreed upon at what hour or other appointed 
time observations shall be made ; and lastly, that a voca- 
bulary or dictionary of signs must be well understood by 
all concerned. But this is not all, the vocabulary is, in 
war time, frequently changed, in order to prevent the 
signs from being interpreted by any one not in govern- 
ment service. An instance occurred during the last war, 
in which some English seamen landed on the French 
coast, attacked a telegraph, and brought away the symbol- 
book or vocabulary. This was copied and distributed 
to the Channel Fleet. The consequence of which was, 
that many of the most important signals made from one 
telegraph to another were detected and interpreted by the 
officers in the English ships. This would not have 
occurred had the vocabulary been changed after the 
seizure of one of the signal-books. 

Several other ingenious methods for rapid communica- 
tion have been invented, and some brought into use. Of 
these we may probably find a future occasion of treat- 


[Continued from No. 504.] 

Mr. Elwes, from his father Mr. Meggot, had inherited 
some property in houses in London, particularly about 
the Haymarket. To this property he began now to add 
by building. Great part of Marylebone soon called him 
her founder. Portland Place and Portman Square, and 
other structures too numerous to name, rose out of his 
pocket, and had not Lord North and his American war 
kindly put a stop to this rage of raising houses, much of 
the property he then possessed would have been laid out 
in bricks and mortar. As it was, he became, from calcu- 
lation, his own insurer. In possessions so large, of 
course it would happen that some of the houses were 
without a tenant ; it was therefore Mr. Elwes's custom 
whenever he went to London, to occupy any of these pre- 
mises which might happen to be vacant. He travelled 
in this manner from street to street, frequently an itine- 
rant for a night's lodging ; a couple of beds, a couple of 
Chairs, a table and an old woman, were all his furniture, 
and with these, whenever a tenant offered, he was but too 
glad to move at a moment's warning. Of all these 
moveables, the old woman was the only one that gave him 
any trouble, for she was afflicted with a lameness that 
made it difficult to get her about quite so fast as he chose, 
and then the colds she took were amazing. The scene 
which terminated her life is not the least singular among 
the anecdotes recorded of Mr. Elwes. The circumstance 
was related to me, adds Mr. Topham, by Colonel Timms 
himself : — Mr. Elwes had come to town in his usual way, 
and taken up his abode in one of the houses that were 
empty. Colonel Timms, who wished much to see him, 
by some accident was informed that his uncle was in 
London, but then how to find him was the difficulty. 
He inquired at all the usual places where it was proba- 
ble he might be heard of, in vain. Not many days af- 

terwards he learnt accidentally that Mr. Elwes had been 
seen going into an uninhabited house in Qreat Marlbo- 
rough Street. This was some clue to Colonel Timms, 
and he went thither. No gentleman however had been 
seeu to enter, but a pot-boy recollected that he had no- 
ticed a poor old man opening the stable-door, and locking 
it after him. Colonel Timms went and knocked loudly 
at the door, but no one answered. Some of the aeigh- 
bours said they had also seen such a man enter, so Colo- 
nel Timms resolved to have the stable-door opened ; a 
blacksmith was sent for, and they entered the house to- 
gether. In the lower part of it all was shut and silent, 
but on ascending the staircase, they heard the moans of a 
person seemingly in distress. They went to the chamber, 
and there, upon an old pallet bed lay stretched out, 
seemingly in death, the figure of Mr. Elwes. For some 
time he seemed insensible that any one was near him ; 
but on some cordials being administered by a neighbour- 
ing apothecary, who was sent for, he recovered enough 
to say " that he had, he believed, been ill for two or three 
days, and that there was an old woman in the house, but 
for some reason or other she had not been near him ; 
that she had been ill herself, but that she had got well, 
he supposed, and gone away." On repairing to the 
garrets, they found the old woman stretched out lifeless 
upon the floor. To all appearance she had been dead 
about two days ! With all this penury, Mr. Elwes was 
not a hard landlord, a fact that redounds in no slight de- 
gree to the credit of such a man. 

The character of an impartial and upright country 
magistrate is the best character which the country 
knows. What a lawgiver is to a state, an intelligent 
magistrate is in a less degree to the district where he re- 
sides. Such a magistrate was Mr. Elwes while he re- 
sided in Berkshire, and it was almost entirely owing to 
this best of recommendations, that an offer was made to 
him afterwards, of bringing him in as a representative for 
the county. The prospect of a contested election be- 
twixt two most respectable families in Berkshire first 
suggested the idea of proposing a third person who might 
be unobjectionable to both. Mr. Elwes was chosen. 
He agreed to the proposal, as it was further enhanced to 
him by the understanding that he was to be brought in 
by the freeholders for nothing. I believe all he did was 
dining at the ordinary at Abingdon ; and he got into . 
parliament for eighteen pence ! On being elected mem- 
ber for Berkshire, he left Suffolk and went again to his 
seat at March am. His fox-hounds he carried along with 
him, but finding his time would in all probability be 
much employed, he resolved to relinquish his hounds ; 
and they were shortly after given away to some farmers 
in that neighbourhood. Mr. Elwes was sixty years old 
when he thus entered on public life. In three successive 
parliaments he was chosen for Berkshire ; and he sat as 
member of the House of Commons about twelve years. 
It is to his honour — an honour in those times indeed 
most rare ! — that in every part of his conduct, and m every 
vote he gave, he proved himself to be what he professed, 
an independent country gentleman. Wishing for no 
post, desirous of no rank, wanting no emolument, and 
being most perfectly conscientious, he stood aloof from 
all those temptations which have led many good men 
astray from the paths of honour. He was once unhappy 
for some days on learning that Lord North intended to 
apply to the king to make him a peer. I really believe, 
had such an honour fallen unexpectedly upon his head, 
it would have been the death of him. He never would 
have survived the being obliged to keep a carriage and 
three or four servants — all perhaps better dressed than 
himself! For some years Mr. Elwes supported the 
ministry, and I am convinced, adds his biogwpher, it was 
his fair and honest belief that the measures of Lord 
North were right. The support he gave was of the most 
disinterested land, for no man was more materially a 

Digitized by 







sufferer Toy Lord North's American war than he, in con- 
sequence of the depreciation in the value of his great pro- 
perty in houses which took place. At last however Mr. 
Elwes's confidence gave way, and he entered into a regu- 
lar and systematic opposition with the party of Mr. Fox, 
which he continued till Lord North was driven from 
power in March, 1782. When the famous coalition took 
place, it obtained the support of Mr. Elwes, in conse- 
quence of which he was threatened with a contest at the 
ensuing dissolution of parliament. The character he 
had long borne in Berkshire for integrity might have 
made a re-election not improbable, had he been willing to 
have submitted to the necessary expense. But that was 
out of the question — he would have died at the first elec- 
tion dinner ! So voluntarily, and without offer of resistance, 
he retired from public life. During his parliamentary 
career, it was said of Mr. Elwes, " that no man or party 
of men could be sure of him ;" in itself a decisive proof 
of his independence of character. I say, continues Mr. 
Topham, what I ought : — I write only that which I am 
in duty bound to write — when I here set down — that a 
more faithful, a more industrious, or a more incorrupti- 
ble representative of a county never entered the doors of 
the House of Commons. He never asked or received a 
single favour, and I believe he never gave a vote but he 
would solemnly have laid his hand upon his breast and 
sud\ "So help me God ! I believe I am doing what is 
for the best !" 

[To b« continued.] 


[Continued from No. 504.] 

The floor of the chapel was, in former times, paved with 
ornamental stones inlaid with curious brasses ; and the 
choir stalls were in the ancient style adorned with cano- 
pies and spire- work. Bnt the monuments and the stalls 
ha?e been ejected from the chapel itself, and the stalls 
ranged in the ante-chapel something after the fashion of 
antique chain in the hall of a gentleman's mansion ; and 
they are also without their canopies and their spires, which 
have gone one knows not whither. The monumental 
stones also have been removed into the ante-chapel ; but 
most of the brasses have been torn off or obliterated, 
though all the inscriptions were copied by Wood the an- 
tiquary, and most of them are, we believe, preserved in 
Warton's description. The cause for which the old stalls 
and old monuments were ejected from this chapel, was 
what was then considered as a very great improvement, 
and highly creditable to the ingenuity of the projectors, 
at whose expense it was made ; but which has sadly dis- 
figured the place, by destroying the keeping and con- 
gnuty. The change was made by Dr. Nicholas, in 
1681 ; and he placed modern benches and wainscoting 
in the room of the stalls, new painted the choir, and had 
* new altar erected of the Ionic order, so that the roof 
and walls still appear those of an ancient chapel, 
while the floor and furniture would better become a mo- 
dem meeting-house, and the organ is stuck up against 
the north wall, as if doubtful to which it should belong. 
The appointment of the choir consists of three chaplains, 
three clerks, an organist, and sixteen choristers ; and the 
choir service is performed at 8 o'clock and 5 o'clock on 
Sundays and holidays, and 5 o'clock on the vigils of the 
ktter. In vacation time strangers may attend the cha- 
f*l; and there are tribunes for females in the places for- 
merly occupied by the side altars. 

In former times, « door led from the chapel to the 
craters ; but that is now, closed up, and he entrance to 
the cloisters is become what may be called the third 
ttvt. These cloisters constitute the extreme south-east 
of the College buildings, and form a square of 132 feet on 
the side. These cloisters are very neat, but evidently of 
much more modern date than the time of Wykeham. It 

is probable that they were built during the wardenship 
of Thurburn, and about the year 1430, by John Fromond, 
who certainly in that year built the chapel which occu- 
pies the centre of their area. It is not improbable that 
this Fromond may have been acquainted with and under 
obligations to Wykeham, from his liberality to both 
Wykeham's colleges. But he was in secular employ- 
ment, and not a churchman, for while he gave annual 
gowns to the choristers, his wife Maud gave two cups to 
the College, and this not for sacerdotal purposes, as appears 
from the following inscription said to nave been upon one 
of them : — 

" He shall have Chryste's blessing to his dell, 
Whoso of me drinketh wsll ;* 

from which it would appear that this good lady encou- 
raged the establishment in their potations. 

When Fromond built this chapel, he endowed a priest 
to officiate in it, and furnished apartments for him in the 
north-western part of the College. But this endowment, 
being within the statute at the time of the dissolution, was 
abolished, and the chapel became part of the College. What 
use was made of it at first has not been said, but in the 
last year of the wardenship of Nicholas Love, that is, in 
1629, it was converted into a library, and so remains to 
the present time. The collection of books is considera- 
ble, and some of them are of great value ; and there are 
also a few articles such as are suitable for a museum ; 
but upon the whole it is not greatly worthy of attention, 
aud does not appear to have much effect upon the know- 
ledge of the inmates of the College. Still it is a hand- 
some building, very neatly fitted up, and kept in good 
order. To the westward of the cloisters and library, 
and separated from them by an area of moderate di- 
mensions, stands the building which is, in a public 
point of view, the most interesting of the whole. This 
is the public school, a plain substantial building erected 
in the year 1687, at a cost of 2600/., obtained chiefly by 
a subscription amongst Wykehamists, who have at all 
times been forward in contributing to the improvement of 
the place of their education. Over the entrance there is 
a bronze statue of the founder, modelled, cast, and pre- 
sented by Caius Gabriel Cibber, who was as famous as a 
statuary, as his son Colly Cibber was notorious as player, 
poet-laureate, and hero of the ' Dunciad.' His statues of 
Melancholy and Raving Madness, which long stood over 
the gate of old Bethlehem, were always reckoned among 
the chefs d'eeuvre of modern art. The statue in ques- 
tion is a good one, but has been disfigured by being 
painted and gilt. The inscription is in these words, only in 
Latin : " Sacred to the memory of William of Wykehanw 
bishop of Winchester, founder of this College. Caius^ 
Gabriel Cibber, statuary to the king, and a relation, by 
his wife, of the aforesaid founder, caused this brazen sta- 
tue of him to be cast and erected here at his own expense." 
This school-room is spacious, being 90 feet long, 36 feet 
wide, and of proportional height : upon the walls are set 
forth the admonitions and rules for the government of the 
scholars, all in Latin ; but we shall give the English 
translations, as some of them are a little curious, and all 
of them sensible. 

The admonitions are three : " Either learn ; or depart ; 
or in the third place be flogged ;" and adjoining to these 
there are appropriate symbols. The mitre and crozier to 
the first, as the probable rewards of learning ; an ink- 
horn and sword to the second, to order and enforce ex- 
pulsion ; and a scourge to the third, as the only instru- 
ment that can speak to the feelings of a dunce. The 
regulations we shall quote at length. 

Table of Scholastic Laws. 

" In the Church. — Worship God. Say your pTayers 
with a pious affection of the mind. Let not your eyes 
wander about. Keep silence. Read nothing profane. 

" In the Sc/wo/.— Let each one be diligent in his studies. 

Digitized by 




[February 15, 1^40. 

Let him repeat his lesson in a low tone of voice to him- 
self, but in a clear tone to his master. Let no one give 
disturbance to his neighbour. Take care to spell your 
theme right. Have all your school implements i: con- 
stant readiness. 

n In the Hall. — Whoever says Grace, let him repeat it 
distinctly. The rest are all to answer to him. All are 
in the meantime to stand upright in their places. What- 
ever is to be repeated, let it be clearly and properly pro- 
nounced. Whilst you sit at table, behave with due de- 

u In the Court. — Let no one throw stones or balls 
against the windows. Let not the building be defaced 
with writing or carving upon it. Let no one approach 
the masters with his head covered or without a com- 

" In the Chambers. — Let cleanliness be attended to. 
Let each one study in the evening, and let silence pre- 
vail in the night. 

" In the Town, going to the Hill. — Let the scholars walk 
in pairs. Let them behave with proper modesty. Let 
them move their hats to their masters and other respecta- 
ble persons. Let decency regulate your countenance, 
vour motions, and your gait. Let no one on the hill go 
oeyond the prescribed limits. 

" Everywhere and at all times. — Let inferiors be sub- 
ject to the preposters. Let the preposters govern with 
equity. Let the latter be themselves free from fault and 
give good example to the rest. Let both inferiors and 
preposters refrain from everything that is unbecoming, 
both in actions and in words. 

" Whoever disobeys these rules, upon conviction will 
be sentenced to condign punishment. 

** None will be excused in staying at home beyond 
the time of the vacation. Those who are detected in 
going out of the College without leave will be expelled for 
the third offence." 

It must be admitted that these rules are admirable ; 
and we believe they are strictly observed both by the 
foundation scholars and the gentlemen commoners. They 
are indeed worthy of transcription into all other public 
schools, and we believe that obedience to them is so 
general, that there have been fewer revolts, disturbances, 
barrings out, and other insubordinations at Winchester 
College than at any other public school in the kingdom. 

The commoners, not being under the control of the 
warden, and paying for all that they receive, have the 
privilege of the school-room and the tuition only within 
the College. They are under the immediate superintend- 
ence of the head master, and have a quadrangle and a 
hall of their own, situated at the north-western angle of 
the College, and under the immediate observation of the 
head master. At the present time this quadrangle, which 
is College property as well as the rest, is in progress of 
rebuilding in very splendid style ; and until it is rebuilt 
suitable abodes are hired for the head master and the 
commoners. The foundation scholars are, by the founda- 
tion, limited to seventy, and the commoners are in general 
about a hundred and thirty, making in all about two 
hundred young gentlemen constantly receiving education 
at this establishment. 

To get on the foundation, interest is of course required ; 
and the Warden and Fellows here, and those of Wyke- 
ham's College, Oxford, are the parties with whom interest 
is to be made. For commoners it is only required that 
they shall be respectable and of good moral habits, and 
their parents competent to the payment of the fees, which 
are of course considerable. The common scholars wear 
no gown or other distinction of dress ; but the prefects, 
or preposters, wear black gowns, and caps with a square 
top. These last are appointed for their talents alone, and 
are often not half the size of the young men of whom 
they have the direction. 

As the original intention of this school was to prepare 

students for Wykeham's new College at Oxford, this 
purpose is still kept up ; and the elections are made pre* 
vious to the summer vacation. At this time, the Warden 
and Fellows of the New College, or such portion of them 
as may be named for the purpose, repair to Winchester ; 
and there, with the Warden, Sub- Wardens, Head Master, 
and other Fellows of that College, form a court of examina- 
tion for those qualified for the College. The candidates 
consist of two of the kin of the founder, if such are found 
qualified, and after them of the other foundation scho- 
lars in the order of their respective merits. While 
at the school here the total expense to gentlemen com- 
moners, may be about a hundred and twenty pounds a 
year, and perhaps the extras not included in the founda- 
tion may cost the foundation-scholars some thirty or 
forty. There is no limitation as to the age at which 
foundation- scholars may enter the establishment ; but if 
they are not of the kindred of the founder, they must 
leave it at eighteen, whereas his kindred may remain till 
they are five and twenty. After the candidates for Ox- 
ford have been selected and all the business is over, 
there is a ball, and the final act previous to the summer 
vacation is the chanting of a Latin song, " Dulce Do- 
mum," to which justice cannot be done in any English 

Sagacity of Ant*.— In the swampy regions of Xarayes, in 
La Plata, where the inundation of the Paraguay com- 
mences, the ants, which are in vast numbers there, have 
the sagacity to build their nests in the tops of the trees, far 
out of reach of the waters ; and these nests are made of a 
kind of adhesive clay, so hard that no cement can be more 
durable or impervious to the weather.— Sir Woodbine 
Parish' $ Buenos At/res and La Plata. 

Mode of Sticking Peas. -The following mode of sticking 
peas, and especially the taller varieties, is both cheap and 
simple, and possesses many advantages. Procure a num- 
ber of strong thick stakes or thin poles, in length according 
to the height of the peas, from five to ten feet, and drive 
them into the ground on each side of the row, at the distance 
of three or four yards ; pass a small line along the poles, 
taking a turn on each within a few inches of the ground, 
and as the peas advance, raise the next turn a little higher, 
and so on in succession, till they have attained their full 
height. Sew the tendrils of the peas and truss them round 
these lines, by which they will be supported in a better man- 
ner than by the common method of sticking. When spread 
regularly along the lines, they have a fine circulation of air, 
and pods can be pulled at all times without injuring the 
haulm, and as the birds have no twigs to alight on, the por- 
tion of the crop which they otherwise would devour and de- 
stroy is saved. An excellent way to preserve pea* or beans 
from mice is to chop up the tops of the last year's shoots of 
furze, and sow them in drills ; the author has known it to 
have been an effectual remedy in several instances, where 
these mischievous little animals had been very prevalent. — 
Vegetable Cultivator* by John Roge rs. 

Slave-like Notions on the Institution of Property.— 
When we hear men speaking against the institution of pro- 
perty, what is it but a slaved language? A slave can nei- 
ther acquire nor alienate,— he has and can have no pro- 
perty ; the notion of property is essentially foreign to his 
condition ;— but to freemen it is one of the highest condi 
tions of humanity that men can not only possess what they 
eat and drink and wear, -which the beasts can do no less, 
- but that they can lay by, improve and increase, give and 
even bequeath certain portions of the earth, or of the things 
upon it, portions taken by industry and preserved by law 
from being subject to the wasteful scramble of ignorance 
and force. An institution so sacred, and so essential to the 
elevation of our nature, is, and ever has been, deeply valued 
by all freemen. Slaves have no share in it, and no percep- 
tion of it ; and they who speak o£ it slightly proclaim them- 
selves to be as slaves. 

•*• Th« Offlea of Um Society lor tin* Ihffum. n of Uwtal Know 
69. Ltncolo't Ton Fields. 
PrioteJ by William Clowii ft Son* Aamftud-Stn*. 

Digitized by 




Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. 



. [February 22, 1840. 



[Continued from No. 501. J 

Costantina (pronounced Costantineh by the Arabs, and 
frequently printed Constantine in the English news- 
papers) ranks next in importance to Algier, the capital. 
Under the name of Cirta it was once the capital of Nu- 
midia, and the ruins of its ancient aqueducts are still in 
existence. Costantina occupies a "bold and commanding 
situation on a steep rocky hill, with the river Rummd 
flowing on three sides of its base. The country around 
is a high terrace between the chains of the maritime and 
centra] Atlas. It is forty-eight miles distant from the 
sea, one hundred from Bona, and two hundred from 
Algier ; but the communication with each of these places 
is rendered difficult by mountain-passes. The ' Iron 
Gates' is a pass cut through perpendicular rocks on the 
road to Algier; and six miles east of Costantineh is 
another pass called the ' Ascent,' which is carried along 
a narrow ridge with precipices on each side. Gelma is 
a strong position half-way between Costantineh and 
Bona, commanding the entrance of the plain of Costan- 
tina. In November, 1836, an expedition was under- 
taken against Costantina by Marshal Clausel at the 
head of 8000 men. They marched from Bona by the 
left bank of the Seiboos, and experienced great difficul- 
ties in crossing the swollen torrents and in conveying 
their cannon over the lesser Atlas. At length, when they 
arrived on the high terrace of Costantina, a heavy fall 
of snow which lasted several days, and the severe cold, 
killed or disabled a great part of the array; and on 
Vol. IX. 

reaching the city, it was found too'strongly defended to 
be carried without a regular siege, for which the French 
were not prepared. They were therefore compelled to 
retreat, the Arabs severely harassing their rear-guard. 
A great blunder had in fact been committed in commenc- 
ing operations so late in the season. In the following 
year a new expedition was prepared, and on the 13th of 
October, General Damremont, the commander-in-chief of 
the French troops in Africa, attacked Costantina, and 
carried it by assault after a desperate resistance on the 
part of the native troops and inhabitants. Damremont 
was killed by a cannon-shot, and Achmet Bey retired 
with 12,000 men as the French entered the city. 

The Bey of Costantina was the most powerful of the 
three Beys among whom the territory of Algier was 
divided, the Beylik occupying nearly one-half of the 
regency. Costantina was an important acquisition to the 
French, as it gave them a footing in the interior. The 
country around is well adapted for agriculture ou a large 
scale ; but then colonists are wanting, and until security 
and order are established, it is almost vain to expect that 
persons of capital should adventure their fortunes in this 
part of Algeria. There might be objections to employing 
the troops for some portion of their time in the cultiva- 
tion of the soil, from the effect which it might have in 
impairing their military discipline and efficiency ; but the 
high price which France is paying for her possessions in 
Africa, amounting probably to nearlv two millions ster- 
ling a year, is so serious a drain of her resources, as to 

Digitized by 




[February 22,' 

render any plan deserving of consideration which promises 
to lessen this enormous cost. The struggle between pride 
and frugality cannot but be a painful one; and it is to 
be lamented that hitherto the colony has proved so un- 
productive, that the opinion in favour of retaining posses- 
sion of Algeria has flowed rather from the former princi- 
ple. There is no chance of the natives ever expelling 
the French from North Africa by force ; and the utmost 
they can do is to prolong the period of its unprofitableness 
as a colony. Indeed, under the most favourable circum- 
stances, the expenses of the military occupation must for 
a great length of time exceed any profits which may be 
realised ; but in time the tobacco plant, the olive and the 
vine, and the silk-worm may possibly become sources of 
wealth to the French, who are already accustomed to 
cultivate these productions, and know how to turn them 
to the best account. As to the possession of Algeria 
creating any jealousy amongst well informed persons in 
this country, we venture to say that while they regret 
that property has been unjustly sequestrated, and many 
heart-rending and deplorable acts of injustice been com- 
mitted, they would rejoice to see Algeria prospering, and 
French colonists carrying into Africa the arts and sciences 
which diminish barbarism. Some good has been already 
achieved, and the amelioration of the former cruel judicial 
system is a most important step. Moreover, the social 
condition under which the natives lived was not one 
which we should wish to see unchanged. The poet 
Campbell, who visited Algiers in 1835, says, " The 
native population, though it will sometimes show you 
heads and forms worthy of a scriptural picture, exhibits 
incomparably more numerous objects of such wretched- 
ness as you would not meet with in a European city ; 
elephantiasis and blindness are excessively common, and 
disease and poverty may be said to walk the streets. " 
But whatever evils may have ensued from the French 
occupation, there can be little doubt that they are far 
less than those which would desolate the regency if they 
were to abandon the colony. The King of the French 
put a question to the English poet which concentrates 
the case so far as the interests of humanity are con- 
cerned. " To whom would the Algerine territory be 
given back ?" " The Turks ?" asks Mr. Campbell. 
" They would immediately be at war with the Moors for 
superiority ; and both Moors and Turks would join in 
oppressing the Jews. Then the Arabs would assert their 
independence, and there would be a universal civil war. 
Nay, it is doubtful with me," he adds, " whether, in the 
event of the French relinquishing Algiers, and even blow- 
ing up their forts and arsenals, the Algerines would not 
again rebuild their private vessels and re-act their cruel- 
ties on Christian captlves. ,, 

M. Blanqui recommends, as one of the means by which 
the prosperity of the regency might be accelerated, that 
Algier, Bona, and Oran should be made free ports. The 
manufacturers of Rouen and other places in the mother 
country must not be allowed to regard Africa as a market 
for their goods, to be monopolized by the aid of heavy 
protecting duties. The imports of Algeria in 1838 
amounted to 1,300,000/., on which the duty amounted 
to 40,000/., thus augmenting the value of capital, which 
is so scarce in the colony, diminishing competition, and 
keeping up prices to their present enormous rate. Cattle 
and flour were imported to the value of 360,000/. The 
customs' duties are all absorbed in the expenses of collec- 
tion, so that no loss would ensue in throwing open 
Algeria to the commerce of the world. The wines of 
Provence are the chief French productions which are 
consumed in Algeria. The consumption in 1838 
amounted to 260,000/.; and since 1833, though the 
European population has only doubled, the quantity of 
wine consumed is quintupled. 


r Concluded from No. 505.] 

When Mr. Elwes, on his first election, thought he had 
got into the House for nothing, he had not taken into ac- 
count the inside of the house. In a short time however 
he found out that members of parliament could want 
money, and he had the misfortune to be the one member 
who was inclined to lend to them. There existed after 
his death a pile of bad debts and uncalled bonds, which, 
could they have been laid on the table of the House of 
Commons, would have struck dumb some orators on both 
sides of the house. Time, which conquers all things, 
conquered this passion of lending in Mr. Elwes, and an 
unfortunate proposal which was made to him of * vesting 
25,000/. in some iron-works in America, gave at last a 
finishing blow to his various speculations. The plan had 
been so plausibly laid before him, that he had not a doubt 
of its success, but he never heard any more either of his 
iron or his gold. From that time he vested his money in 
the funds. During his attendance in parliament he in- 
variably walked home at the close of the debates, however 
inclement the weather, unless some member took him up 
in his way. One very dark night, as he was hurrying 
along, he went with such violence against the pole of a 
sedan chair, that he cut his legs very deeply. As usual, 
he thought not of any assistance ; but Colonel Tim ms, 
at whose house he then was, in Orchard Street, insisted 
on some one being sent for. Old Elwes at length sub- 
mitted, and an apothecary was called in, who immediately 
began to expatiate on the bad of breaking 

the skin— the good fortune of nr — and the 

y bad appearance of I Very proba- 

i the old man, 4< bu_, , I have one 

say to you — in my opinion my legs are not much 
nun ; now you think they are ; so I win make this 
agreement — I will take one lejj, and you the other ; you 
shall do what you please with your's, and I will do 
nothing to mine; and I will wager your bill that my leg 
gets well first." I have frequently heard him mention, 
with great triumph, that he beat the apothecary by a 
fortnight. On the subject of the manners of Mr. Elwes, 
gladly I speak of them with the praise that is their due. 
They were such — so gentle, so attentive, so gentlemajily, 
and so engaging, that rudeness could not ruffle them, 
nor strong ingratitude break their observance. He re- 
tained this peculiar feature of the old court to the last ; 
but he had a praise far beyond this, he had the most 
gallant disregard of his own person and all care about 
himself, I ever witnessed in man. At the time he was 
seventy-three, he went * out shooting with me, to see 
whether a pointer, I at that time valued much, was as 
good a dog as some he had had in the time of Sir Harvey. 
After walking for some hours much unfatigued, he de- 
termined against the dog, but with all due ceremony. A. 
gentleman who was out with us, and who was a very in* 
different shot, by firing at random lodged two pellets in 
the cheek of Mr. Elwes, who stood by me at the time. 
The blood appeared, and the shot certainly gave him 
pain ; but when the gentleman came to make his apology 
and profess his sorrow, <c My dear Sir/* said the old 
man, " 1 give you joy on your improvement. I knew 
you would hit something by and bye." When he retired 
from parliament he was nearly seventy-five years of age. 
The expenditure of a few hundred pounds would proba- 
bly have continued him in the situation he loved, where 
he was respected and had due honour ; where he was 
amongst his friends, and where long habit had made 
everything congenial to him. AH this he gave up for 
the love of money. That passion, consuming all before 
it, at length carried hire untimely to the grave. When 
Doctor Wall, his last physician, was called in, and 
viewed him extended on trie squalid bed of poverty from 
which he would not be relieved, he said to one of hU 

Digitized by 





sons, " Sir, your father might have lived these twenty 
years ; but the irritations of his temper have made it im- 
possible to hope for anything ; the body is yet strong, 
but the mind is gone entirely." The scenes that now 
wait upon my hand, for the few years before his death, 
will exhibit a story of penurious denial that never have 
fallen to my share to find a parallel. In the wonder 
which they have yet left upon my mind, I can only say 
M They are true !" 

Mr. Elwes had for some years been a member of a 
card club at the Mount Coffee-house, and here he for a 
time consoled himself, by constant attendance, for the 
loss of parliament. He still retained some fondness for 
play, and imagined he had no small skill at picquet. 
It was his ill luck however to meet with a gentleman 
who thought the same, and on much better grounds ; for 
after a contest of two days and a night, Mr. Elwes rose a 
loser of a sum which he always endeavoured to conceal 
— though I have some reason to think it was not less 
than 3000/. This was the last folly of the kind of which 
he was ever guilty. At the close of the spring of 1785, 
he wished again to visit his seat at Stoke. But the fa- 
mous old servant was dead, all the horses that remained 
with him were a couple of worn-out brood-mares, and he 
himself was not in that vigour of body in which he could 
ride sixty or seventy miles on the sustenance of two 
boiled eggs. The mention of a post-chaise would have 
been a crime — " He afford a post-chaise indeed I where 
was he to get the money ?" would have been his excla* 
mation. At length he was carried into the country free 
of expense by a gentleman. When he reached his seat 
at Stoke, the past scene of something resembling hospi- 
tality, and where his fox-hounds had spread vivacity 
around, he remarked he " had expended a great deal of 
money once very foolishly ; but that a man grew wiser 
by time." Here, during the harvest, he would amuse 
himself with going into the fields to glean corn on the 
grounds of his . own tenants ; and they used to leave a 
little more than common to please the old gentleman, 
who was as eager after it as any pauper in the parish, 
That very strong appetite which Mr. Elwes had in some 
measure restrained during the long sittings of parliament 
(where he had accustomed himself to fast sometimes for 
twenty-four hours in continuance), he now indulged 
most voraciously, and on everything he could find. 
Game in the last stage of putrefaction, and meat that 
walked about his plate, would he continue to eat rather 
than have new things killed before the old provisions were 
finished. With this diet— the charnel-house of suste- 
nance — his dress kept pace, equally in the last stage of 
dissolution. It is the lot of some men to outlive them- 
selves ; such was now the case of Mr. Elwes. When he 
first visited Suffolk, his peculiarities were but little known, 
and when he came to reside there, his fox-hounds " co- 
vered a multitude of sins." 

Iu leaving that county to become a member of parlia- 
ment, his public conduct could not but be praised, and in 
Jus private character that which was not seen could not 
be blamed. But on his return, Jwhen he exposed to con- 
tinued observation all his penury, when his tenants saw 
in Ins appearance or style of living everything that was 
inferior to their own — when his neighbours at best could 
but smile at his infirmities — and his very servants grew 
ashamed of the meanness of their master — all that ap- 
proached respect formerly was now gone ; and a gentle- 
man one day inquiring which was the house of Mr. 
Elwes, was told somewhat facetiously by one of the 
tenants, " The poor-houee of the parish !" 

The spring of 1786 Mr. Elwes passed alone, and had 
it not been for some little daily scheme of avarice, would 
have passed it without one consolatory moment. His 
temper began to give way apace ; his thoughts unceas- 
ingly ran upon money ! money ! money ! and he saw no 
one but whom he imagined was deceiving and defrauding 

him. On removing from Stoke he went to his farm-house 
at Thaydon Hall, a scene of more ruin and desolation, if 
possible, than either his houses in Suffolk or Berkshire. 
It stood alone on the borders of Epping Forest ; and an 
old man and woman, his tenants, were the only persons 
with whom he could hold any converse. Here he fell ill, 
and as he would have no assistance, and had not even a 
servant, he lay unattended and almost forgotten for nearly 
a fortnight. He now determined to make his will, which 
he did shortly afterwards in London, leaving the whole of 
his unentailed property to his sons, George Elwes, then 
living at Marchara, and John Elwes, " late a lieutenant 
in his Majesty's second troop of horse-guards," then re- 
siding at Stoke. The property thus disposed of was 
judged to amount to about 500,000/. Mr. George Elwes, 
being now married, was naturally desirous that, in the 
assiduities of his wife, his father might at length find a 
comfortable home. The old man was induced to agree 
to the proposal, being offered a gratuitous conveyance. 
Mr. Elwes carried with him into Berkshire five guineas 
and a half, and half-a-crown, which he had carefully 
wrapped up in various folds of paper. Mr. George 
Elwes and his wife, whose good temper might well be 
expected to charm away the irritations of avarice and 
age, did everything they could to make the country a 
scene of quiet to him. But " he had that within " which 
baffled every effort of the kind. Of his heart it might 
be said that " there was no peace in Israel." His mind, 
cast away on the vast and troubled ocean of his property, 
extending beyond the bounds of calculation, returned to 
amuse itself with fetching and carrying about a few 
guineas ! The first symptoms of more immediate decay 
was his inability to enjoy his rest at night. Frequently 
would he be heard- at midnight as if struggling with 
some one in his chamber, and crying out, " I will keep 
my money, I will ; nobody shall rob me of my pro- 

Mr. Partis, the gentleman who on this occasion took 
him down gratuitously into Berkshire, and was staying 
awhile in the house, was waked one morning about two 
o'clock by the noise of a naked foot, seemingly walking 
about his bed-chamber with great caution. Somewhat 
alarmed, he naturally asked, " Who is there ?" on which 
a person coming up towards the bed, said with great 
civility, " Sir, my name is Elwes ; I have been unfor- 
tunate enough to be robbed in this house, which I believe 
is mine, of all the money I have in the world — of Jive 
guineas and a half and half-a-crown." The unfortu- 
nate man was found a few days after iu a corner behind 
the window-shutter. For some weeks previous to his 
death he had got a custom of going to rest in his clothes. 
He was one morning found fast asleep betwixt the sheets, 
with his shoes on his feet, his stick in his hand, and an 
old torn hat upon his head. On the 18th of November, 
1789, he discovered signs of that utter and total weak- 
ness which in eight days carried him to the grave. On 
the evening of the first day he was conveyed to bed — 
from which he rose no more. His appetite was gone — 
he had but a faint recollection of anything about him ; 
and hi3 last coherent words were addressed to his son, 
Mr. John Elwes, in hoping " he had left him what he 
wished." On the morning of the 26th of November, he 
expired without a sigh! with the ease with which an 
infant goes to Bleep on the breast of its mother, worn out 
with " the rattles and the toys " of a long day. 

We cannot better conclude this notice of Mr. Elwes 
than with the following extract from Mr. Topham's sum- 
mary of his character. In one word, he says, his public 
conduct lives after him, pure and without a stain. In 
private life he was chiefly an enemy to himself. To 
others he lent much ; to himself he denied everything. 
But in the pursuit of his property, or in the recovery of 
it, I have not in my remembrance one unkind thing 
that ever was done by him % 


Digitized by 




[February £2. 


[Henry VI.— a d. 1450.] 

Considered as a chronological series, die Armour in the 
Tower may he said to commence with the figure of Henry 
VI., habited in armour of the middle of the fifteenth cen- 
tury, there being no complete suits of armour of an 
earlier date in the collection, with the exception of those 
we have already given of the times of Stephen and Ed- 
ward I. As we have not hitherto said much respecting 
the fashion of arms and armour in different age3, we may 
now enter a little into the history of military costume 
in England, and endeavour to point out the varia- 
tions and improvements which have gradually taken 

With regard to this subject we need not revert to an 
earlier period of English history than the ninth or tenth 
century, when the Anglo-Saxons were perpetually engaged 
in contests with the Danes. It was not until the repeated 
successes of the Danes in their incursions on the country 
had proved the utility of the iron garments with which 
they were habited, that the Anglo-Saxons adopted a 
similar costume as a protection against the weapons of 
their enemies. Previously they had worn in battle the 
same vestments in which they were habited in their most 
peaceful moments, a shield being almost the only addi- 
tion made on such an occasion to their ordinary attire. 
They were always armed with either a spear or a sword, 
but preferred a light dress in the form of a short linen 
tunic to stronger and more protective garments, as they 
could then more freely wield their weapons ; this tunic, 
however, had sometimes a kind of pectoral, or iron col- 
lar, forming a guard round the neck. But when the 
advantages which the Danes derived from the armour or 

ringed mail in which they were clad, became apparent in 
their encounters with the Anglo-Saxons, the latter no 
longer hesitated to sacrifice something of their activity to 
gain the protection of an iron coat. We may therefore 
refer the adoption of iron armour by the Anglo-Saxons to 
the tenth century, the poems of which period frequently 
allude to it, as " the battle-mail by hard hands well 
locked," " the shining iron rings,'* " the mailed host of 
weaponed men," &c. 

Their helmets or head-dresses consisted generally of 
leathern caps of a conical form, or of the shape of the 
ancient Phrygian bonnet, sometimes bound or bordered 
with metal, and occasionally (if we may judge from the 
rude drawings of that early time— our principal autho- 
rities) made wholly of iron or brass. They carried shields 
of leather with an iron boss in the centre, holding them 
at arm's length ; and were also armed with long broad 
double-edged swords, daggers, javelins, and long spears, 
as well as axes with long handles called bills, a name 
which has descended almost to the present times. 

The armour of the Anglo-Danes was similar to that of 
the Saxons. By the laws of Gula, said to have been 
established by Hacon the Good, who died in 963, 
we find that the possessor of 60 marks, besides his 
elothes, was required to furnish himself with a red shield 
of two^ boards in thickness, a spear, and an axe or a 
sword. He who was worth twelve marks in addition tc 
the above, was ordered to procure a steel cap ; whilst he 
who was richer by eighteen marks was obliged to have a 
double red shield, a helmet, a coat of mail, or a panzar 
(which was a tunic of quilted linen or cloth), and all 

Digitized by 




usual military weapons.* The Danish shields were either 
round or of a crescent shape, mostly coloured red, hut 
frequently adorned with fanciful devices and enriched 
with gilding. Their weapons were the spear, sword, 
bow, and a double-bladed axe, in the use of which they 
were very expert. 

When the Saxons re-assumed the government of Eng- 
land for the short period preceding the Norman Con- 
quest, they very generally adopted the habits of the Danes, 
whom they had superseded ; but there was one remark- 
able circumstance with respect to the defensive clothing 
of the soldiers which deserves to be noticed here. When 
Harold was engaged in the pursuit of the Welsh, he 
found the heavy armour of the Saxons (the tunic covered 
with iron rings) so much impede the movements of his 
sol diers, that he ordered them to use armour made of 
leather only. This armour consisted of a number of pieces 
of leather cut in the shape of leaves, which overlapped 
each other over the whole dress, presenting an appear- 
ance similar to the oriental scale-armour. This scaly 
leathern armour seems to have been used by the Normans 
of that period, and to have been occasionally worn by 
them as late as the thirteenth century, the leaves or scales 
being sometimes painted of different colours. 

We now come to speak of the military dress of the 
Normans as worn by them on the conquest of England 
by William the First. One of the best authorities for 
the costume of this period is the celebrated Bayeux 
tapestry, in which the dresses of both Normans and 
Saxons are very plainly delineated ; and we shall find 
that a considerable difference existed in the military 
habits of the two nations. The Norman warriors are 
there represented not only in ringed tunics or coats of 
mail, but with a capuclwn, or cowl, of the same material, 
placed over the head and shoulders. Over this is placed 
a conical helmet with a nasal-piece, and, in some cases, a 
neck-piece behind. 

The tunic was cut up a little way before and behind 
for the convenience of riding, and was called by the 
Normans the hauberk, by which name it has been ren- 
dered familiar to most readers of the tales of chivalry 
and romance. A new species of hauberk was introduced 
at the commencement of the eleventh century, having 
lozenge-shaped pieces of steel fastened to the tunic in- 
stead of rings. This obtained the name of mascled 
armour, from its resemblance to the meshes of a net. 
Frequently the rings and mascles were introduced in the 
same suit. 

Another distinguishing feature m the Norman armour 
was made by the addition of chausses, or leg-pieces, of 
the same material as the hauberk, which, covering the 
whole of the leg, rendered the equipment complete. The 
collar of the hauberk was occasionally drawn up over 
the chin and attached to the nasal, a practice which be- 
came very general some few years after. The shields 
worn by the Normans were peculiar, being of a long kite 
afeape, and having, besides two bands for the hands, a 
strap for the purpose of attaching it to the neck, so that 
both hands might be at liberty when occasion required 
it These shields were frequently ornamented with fan- 
ciful devices, but regular heraldic bearings were the 
invention of a later age. The lances of the knights 
were decorated with small flags or streamers, and were 
designated gonfanons or gonfalons. 

The costume we have now described, of the time of 
the Conquest, continued, with little variation, to the close 
of the twelfth century. It may be seen in the figure of 
the Norman Crusader at the head of No. I. of the 
present series, copied from the figure in the Tower. 

In the reign of Henry I. the custom of hooking up the 
collar of the hauberk to the nasal was very common, and 
was followed up about that time by the introduction 

• Set * British Costume— Library of Entertaining Knowledge.' 

of steel cheek-pieces, either pendant to the sides of 
the helmet, in addition to the neck-piece behind, or 
worn beneath like a half-mask, with apertures for the 
eyes. These cheek-pieces were called by the Normans 
aventailles (avant-tailles), a term which afterwards came 
to be applied to the visor, a later invention. The chapet- 
de-fer and the coif-de-fer were iron caps used in this 
reign, the former being worn over the cowl of the hau- 
berk, the latter beneath it. 

During the reigns of Richard I. and John some im- 
portant additions were made to the armour and the dress 
of the military. The helmet, which had been hitherto 
worn of a conical shape, now became flat-topped, had a 
hoop of iron passing under the chin, and was provided 
with a moveable grating, called, like the cheek-pieces we 
have before noticed, an aventaille, affixed to a hinge on 
one side and fastened by a pin on the other, so that it 
opened like a wicket and might be taken off or put on as 
occasion required. Beneath the hauberk, or coat of 
mail, a long tunic was worn, descending to the feet, and 
over the hauberk the surcoat The custom of wearing 
the latter appears to have originated with the Crusaders, 
who are said to have adopted it to preveut the armour 
becoming heated by the direct rays of an Eastern 

Those who were unable to afford hauberks clad them- 
selves in either the wambeys (or gambeson), or the haque- 
ton, both wadded or quilted tunics ; the first, according 
to Sir S. Meyrick, being of leather stuffed with wool, and 
the second of buckskin filled with cotton. These were also 
occasionally worn with the hauberk being placed beneath 
it. Besides these defences another was introduced, called 
a plastron-de-fer, or steel plate, which, being worn either 
under the gambeson or between it and the hauberk, pre- 
vented the latter from pressing on the chest. Yet even 
these multiplied defences were sometimes found barely 
sufficient to protect their wearers from the violence of a 
spear-thrust. In a combat between Richard Coeur-de- 
Lion, then Earl of Poitou, and a knight named William 
de Barris, they charged each other so furiously that their 
lances pierced through their shields, hauberks, and gam- 
besons, and were only prevented by the plastrons from 
transfixing their bodies. The plastron became afterwards 
distinguished by the name of gorget or haubergcon. 

The shields of this period were smaller than those pre- 
viously used, and approached more to a triangular 
shape, but of a semi-cylindrical form, being curved round 
the arm : they were ornamented with heraldic bearings 
and fanciful devices. 

To the ordinary weapons, the spear, battle-axe, sword, 
and bow, there was now added the arbaleste, or cross- 
bow, which continued iu use till the introduction of 

In the reign of Henry III. several alterations were 
effected in the armour and other costume of the military. 
The surcoat was then first emblazoned with armorial 
bearings ; the flat-ringed armour became almost entirely 
superseded by armour composed of rings 6et edgewise, 
so as to afford more strength; and this was again 
eclipsed by the chain-mail (imported from Asia), which 
was bo constructed that it formed a garment of itself, 
without the necessity of having a leathern foundation, 
which the other species of ringed-mail required. But 
the most important additions to the armour made at this 
period consisted in the application of plates of iron or 
steel to the shoulders, elbows, and knees, paving the way 
for the introduction of the plate-armour, which in the four- 
teenth century composed the whole Buit. The form of 
the helmet underwent various changes, but the most 
usual was that of a truncated cone on the top of a cylin- 
der, the fore part being furnished with visors, or aven- 
tailles, pierced for the sight and for the breath in the 
form of a cross or with a multitude of small holes. Henry 
also introduced the rowelled spur, but it was not until 

Digitized by 




[Februabj 22, 

the next reign that it became common, the spurs in 
general remaining pointed or lance-shaped. 

The chanfron, or armour for the horse's head and face, 
was also introduced at this period, but it does not appear 
to have been very generally employed. 

During the reigns of the three Edwards considerable 
alterations were made in the military costume. In the 
reign of Edward I., the surcoat was almost always em- 
blazoned with heraldic bearings or designs, at the fancy 
of the wearer, illuminations of the period being rich in 
illustrations of the practice. 

The helmet was worn of a shape resembling a barrel 
or approaching a globular form, with laces in front to 
admit air and permit the wearer to see his foes. This 
was often surmounted by the heraldic crest, imparting to 
it an elegant appearance, but it did not supersede the 
chapels-de-fer until the next reign, when they almost 
totally disappeared. The falchion, a peculiarly shaped 
broad-bladed sword ; the estoc, a small stabbing sword ; 
the anelas y a broad dagger tapering to a fine point, and 
the coutel or cultelas (whence cuirass), a military knife, 
were all added about this time to the weapons already 
enumerated; and to this list may also be added the 
mace. Towards the close of the reigu those curious 
ornaments called ailcttes, or little wings, portions of 
armour affixed to the shoulders and ornamented with de- 
vices, were introduced, but it was in the next reign that 
they became most common. 

[To b« oontlnued.] 



[Concluded from No. 605.] 

On the 15th of March, 1834, the Tea Committee made a 
Report, in which they expressed their opinion that there 
were districts within the territories of the East India 
Company which contained a soil and climate suitable to 
the cultivation of tea, but, though confidently recommend- 
ing the experiment, the Committee acknowledged that 
they did not possess information sufficiently specific to 
enable them to point out the best situations for a favoura- 
ble trial. The Tea Committee had under its notice at this 
time a valuable communication, dated February 22, from 
Dr. Falconer, of the botanical garden, Sanarunpore, 
which contained well-founded grounds for the following 
conclusions : — 1, That the tea- plant may be successfully 
cultivated in India. 2, That this can be expected no- 
where in the plains from 30° north down to Calcutta. 3, 
That in the Himalaya mountains, near the parallel of 30° 
north, a climate may be found similar in respect of 
temperature to the tea districts in China. 

The favourable opinions of Dr. Falconer probably in- 
duced the Tea Committee to despatch Mr. Gordon, one of 
their members, to China in the month of June, for the 
purpose of procuring plants and seeds of the tea-tree, and 
engaging Chinese cultivators and tea-makers. In July, 
preparations were commenced for establishing several 
small nurseries in the north-western mountainous pro- 
vinces of India, in which the expected supply of seeds and 
plants from China might be sown and reared ; Dr. Fal- 
coner having proceeded, at the request of the Committee, to 
the northward of Saharunpore, to select sites for the nur- 
series in the Gurwhal and Sirinone hills. The Committee 
also addressed a letter to the commissioner in Kumaon, 
requesting him to select five or six sites for nurseries 
within that province ; and as the plants might arrive in a 
tender and delicate state, it was suggested that the situation 
of some of the nurseries should be at a comparatively low 
elevation, gradually ascending to that height where the 
plants might permanently thrive best. These parts of India 
contain situations corresponding in climate, soil, and as- 
pect with the tea district^of China and Japan. They 
constitute the western and northern corners of Hindustan, 

and are situated within 28° and 31° north latitude, and 
76° and 81° east longitude, and extend from the plains 
of the adjoining provinces to beyond the Himalaya 
mountains. In this region, which is well watered by nu- 
merous rivers and streams, every variety of temperature 
and soil is to be found. Its flora is, in some instances, 
identical with that of China and Japan ; and the atten- 
tion of the Committee could not have been directed to a 
quarter which afforded so strong a likelihood of success, 
the great obstacle having hitherto been the difficulty of 
finding a congenial soil and climate. 

In November, Mr. Gordon shipped off from China 
one hogshead, one quarter-cask, and one small case of 
seeds of the Bohea tea-plant. They were packed in bar- 
rels in dry sand with the utmost care, as the thinness of 
the shell covering the seed and the moist and oily na- 
ture of the kernel render it easily susceptible of injury. 
The seeds reached Calcutta in January, 1835, and at the 
proper season were put into the ground. A portion of 
the supply was sent to Madras, and seeds were distri- 
buted for the purpose of being sown in the province of 
Mysore and in the Neilgherry hills. Early in the following 
year, the plants, then about six inches in height, were 
taken out of the botanic garden at Calcutta and put into 
pots, for the purpose of being conveyed to the Muttuck 
country, a district watered by the Brahmapootra and its 
affluents. Out of twenty thousand plants which had 
been sent from Calcutta, only eight thousand sur- 
vived; but the difficulties attending the conveyance 
of delicate plants for so great a distance being considered, 
the loss of three-fifths was not more than could reasona- 
bly have been expected. In the meantime an important 
circumstance had occurred which would have rendered 
even the total loss of the plants of comparatively little 

On the 24th of December, 1834, the Tea Committee at 
Calcutta announced to the Governor-general in Council 
the important fact that the tea-plant had been discovered 
growing wild in Upper Assam, where it was found 
through an extent of country of one month's march 
within the territories of the East India Company, from 
Sudiya and Bees a to the Chinese province of You-n&n, 
where the shrub is cultivated for the sake of its leaf. 
The merit of this discovery is due to Captain Jenkins 
and Lieutenant Charlton. Lieutenant Charlton said 
he had heard, in 1831, of the tea-tree growing wild 
in the vicinity of Beesa, and in November, 1834, he sent 
specimens both of the seeds and leaves of the indigenous 
tea-plant, and announced that it also grew wild in Sudiya. 
Captain Jenkins stated that on the Patkoye range of hills, 
which divides the waters of the Brahmapootra from those 
of Kuendwa, the wild shrub was in great abundance. 
The mountainous region which divides Cachar from 
Assam he thought admirably adapted to the tea-plant, 
and he strongly recommended that competent individuals 
should be sent out to collect such botanical, geological, 
and other details as were necessary, before taking ulterior 
measures with a view of bringing the tea-shrub into cul- 
tivation in that country. The mountainous tract alluded 
to by Captain Jenkins presents nearly a uniform geolo- 
gical structure, being composed of dry slate very much 
disintegrated. The country increases in elevation until it 
reaches to the eastern end of the valley of Assam, rang- 
ing from six to eight thousand feet, greatest heights. 
From the end of the valley of Assam this ceases to be 
merely a west and east range, and its direct continuation 
passes into the tea countries of Sechuen and You-n&n in 
China ; northward the high lands are connected with a 
branch of the Himalaya Mountains; and southward they 
divide into two branches which border the river Irawaddi 
on either side from its sources to the sea. The configura- 
tion of the valley of Assam is said greatly to resemble 
two of the best tea-districts in China. Some parts of this 
district are completely under British authority, and the 

Digitized by 





remainder is more or less subject to our influence. It 
will be found in the maps between 94° and 96° E. long., 
and 25° and 28° N. lat., and is watered by the Brahma- 
pootra and its tributaries. The course of this river, after 
passing by Sudiya, is south-west, and the districts where 
the tea-trees are found are between the various tributaries 
on the east bank of the river. They are but little known, 
and Mr. Bruce, the superintendent of the tea-nurseries, is 
almost the only European who has explored them. The 
country southward of Sudiya, in latitude 28°, to the Deb- 
ree river, is generally termed Chyquah; between the 
Debree and Burro Dehing rivers is theMuttuck country, 
containing 41 tea-tracts; and south of the latter river is 
Rajah Purundah Sing's country, in which six tea-tracts 
had been discovered in June, 1837. The Singpho coun- 
try is east of a line drawn from the sources of the Debree 
river in nearly a straight line, to a small tributory of the 
Burro Dehing river ; and at the time above-mentioned 
eight tea-tracts had been discovered. The Muttuck coun- 
try in particular is represented by Mr. Bruce as one vast 
tea-tract, and the Singpho country would, he says, be " a 
noble tea-country," if properly cleared. We are how- 
ever in some measure forestalling events, for the peculiar 
value of these countries as tea-nurseries was not known 
until some time after the Tea Committee had been in 
possession of Captain Jenkins's and Lieutenant Charlton's 
communications ; and we return therefore to the period 
when the Committee first became informed of the fact 
that the tea-shrub grew in its wild state in Assam. 

In May, 1835, the Tea Committee was enabled to 
submit a small sample of the Assam tea to the Gover- 
nor-general in Council. In consequence of the rains, it 
arrived at Calcutta in a damp and mouldy condition. 
The leaves bad been gathered from the -wild tree, and 
had not been properly manipulated ; but on drying them 
in the sun, it was considered by good judges of tea that 
the sample was quite equal to the inferior Congou con- 
sumed in England. Supplies of seeds and plants from 
China being now regarded as unnecessary, Mr. Gordon 
returned to Bengal, more especially as a suggestion 
had been made that it would be easier to introduce 
tea-makeTs from the Chinese province of You-n&n 
than by way of Canton and Calcutta; but it was sub- 
sequently determined that, as he had engaged agents 
to obtain information concerning the best modes of tea 
culture and manufacture, who were also authorised to 
make contracts with Chinese capable of superintending 
these operations, it would be advisable for him to return 
to China, and he accordingly sailed from Calcutta in 

In February, 1835, the Governor-general in Council 
sanctioned the appointment of Mr. C. A. Bruce as super- 
intendent of the tea-nurseries intended to be formed in 
Upper Assam, Sudiya, and in other districts in the north- 
west of Hindustan ; and authorised such an outlay as 
might be nc cessary for their formation and maintenance. 

The scientific gentlemen deputed to visit the newly 
discovered tea-districts, consisting of Dr. Wallich, Mr. 
M'Clelland, and Mr. Griffith, left Calcutta in March, 
1835, with the intention of reaching Sudiya by the 1st 
of November. They were absent about twelve months, 
the report which Dr. Wallich made of the results of the 
expedition being dated March 15th, 1836. 

It appears that in Assam the tea-plant has generally 
been found in the forests on land subject to inundation, 
hut above the reach of the highest floods. On the top 
of this land there is usually a thick wood of trees of all 
sizes, and amongst them the tea-tree grows and strug- 
gles for existence. The land is cut into small channels 
by the water in the season when floods occur, and thus 
forms so many small islands. On these islands, if we may 
so term them, the tea-plant grows along with trees of vari- 
ous kinds, and forms what is called the tea-jungle. The 
natives, in one instance, having cut down some of this 

jungle, set fire to the whole, and sowed rice on the spot; 
and on Mr. Bruce visiting it, he found the tea-plant 
springing up again with great vigour from the old roots 
and stumps. Mr. Bruce converted this into a tea-garden 
on account of the East India Company, and it proved one 
of the finest, a dozen plants springing up where there 
was formerly one. The plan of cutting down the shrub 
and setting fire to the jungle having been accidentally 
proved to answer so well, the experiment was tried upon 
another tea-tract close at hand, and proved equally suc- 
cessful. By way of ascertaining the result of various 
modes of treating the jungle- trees, they were in some in- 
stances suffered to remain, and only the brushwood and 
other small trees cleared to admit the rays of the sun, 
with more or less of shade, in order to diversify the ex- 
periment. Mr. Bruce, however, appeared to think it 
most advisable to treat the tea-tracts nearly as the vil- 
lagers had done in ignorance of the results, and to cut the 
whole down, afterwards clearing the ground from weeds 
with the hoe. The Tea Committee determined on 
placing the, natural tea-districts in circumstances as 
nearly as possible resembling those in which the cultivated 
plant yields the best produce ; to obtain the tea-tracts by 
purchase or to take them on a long lease ; placing them 
under a systematic course of management, commencing 
with digging and levelling the ground, and draining it in 
places where heavy floods occur ; then protecting each 
nursery by a strong fence, and hiring " choukadars" to 
prevent theft of plants or seeds. Some of the native 
chieftains, acknowledging that the British government 
was lord paramount of the soil, and consequently was en- 
titled to claim unoccupied lands, surrendered the tea 
forests unconditionally, and offered to supply labourers 
and a guard. 

All the necessary steps having been taken to ensure 
success, and Chinese tea-makers engaged whose exertions 
were stimulated by the prospect of conditional gratuities 
besides their ordinary wages, the first sample of tea for the 
London market was received at Calcutta in March, 1838, 
in twelve large boxes, six of which contained " paho" of 
the first, second, and third qualities, and six were of 
" souchong" of the same degrees of quality. Each boi 
contained 38lbs. of tea, which was packed at Calcutta in 
a leaden canister made by the Chinese workmen from 
Canton, who were at the time on their way to the tea- 
nurseries in Assam. They were well secured by the 
proper sort of matting, and fastened with slips of rattan. 
As the Chinese avoid shipping their finest teas on board 
vessels which have articles on board of strong savour, as 
hides and similar goods, care was taken to preserve the 
flavour and aroma of the Assam samples by putting each 
box in a soldered tin case, and placing the whole twelve 
by pairs in six strong wooden chests ; and after these pre- 
cautions, they were shipped in May. As much tea as 
would have filled five boxes more was sent from Assam, 
but in consequence of not having been packed with suffi- 
cient care, it was spoiled. This first sample consisted of 
the leaves of trees still in their wild state, and in October, 
1838, the consignment arrived at the India House. 
Early in 1839, it was offered for public sale, and the 
novelty naturally excited an extraordinary degree of 
interest in the tea-market. The whole of the sample 
was, we understand, bought by one individual, at prices 
varying from 28.?. to 345. per lb., and may now be pur- 
chased at 2s. 6d. per ounce. The produce for 1839, 
which has already reached London, amounted to 95 chests ; 
and the quantity likely to be produced in 1840, Mr. 
Bruce estimates at between 11,000 and 12,000 lbs. 
The scarcity of labour in Assam is found highly incon- 
venient in the minute processes of tea-making. Captain 
Jenkins says :— -" We have about Sudiya an unlimited 
range of wastes, wastes enough for three or four millions 
of people, which implies, of course, that our population is 
very scanty, and, what is worse, they are very rude \ fine, 

Digitized by VjOOQ IC 



[February 22, 1840. 

able, strong men, but, without the introduction of a more 
civilized race, they are not convertible to immediate use." 
The economical condition of China renders that country 
admirably adapted for such a branch of industry as the 
culture and manufacture of tea; and some years must 
elapse before it is possible to bring into operation all the 
means and machinery for carrying it on successfully in 
Assam. One object of immediate importance is to en- 
courage the emigration of more industrious races from 
other parts of India ; and by opening a free communica- 
tion with Ava, and forming good roads, colonies of Shans 
and Chinese may be induced to settle in the newly dis- 
covered tea-districts. Those who are acquainted with the 
people of these parts of the East conceive that if such an 
intercourse were established, the detachment of the pro- 
vince of You-nan from the Chinese empire would possibly 
follow. In 1838, two Chinese black- tea makers were 
employed, and last year two Chinese green-tea manufac- 
turers were added to Mr. Bruce's establishments. Each 
Chinaman has half a dozen natives under him as assist- 
ants, but in consequence of the small number of tea- 
makers, the leaves are brought from a distance for manu- 
facture, and the gathering occupies so long a time that 
the leaves become old and large before this operation is 
finished. Each garden should have its own tea-makers 
and gatherers ; but in the infancy of the experiment this 
cannot be effected. The present state of our trade with 
China will be likely to stimulate the East India Com- 
pany, at whose expense this enterprising project has 
hitherto been conducted. 

Mr. Walker, a gentleman who has paid much attention 
to the subject, says that a man can gather about 15 lbs. 
of leaves per day ; and it appears that the price of labour 
in India is from 2d. to 3d. per day, while in China it is 
, much higher, being for women 5d., and for men Id. 
The problem is to direct this cheap labour into a new 
channel. The Assam tea is undoubtedly a wholesale 
beverage, and if it can be produced cheaper than the teas 
of China, the profits of the experiment cannot fail to be 
very high ; and this being the case, it will no doubt be 
worked out. Under any circumstances, an article may 
be produced which will come largely into demand in 
Thibet, Tartary, and other parts of Asia. Tea is re- 
garded as a great luxury by the natives of India, but the 
high price of Chinese teas does not permit them the enjoy- 
ment of this grateful beverage. Captain Jenkins, an 
agent of the Indian government on the north-western 
frontier, is of opinion that " a very moderate outlay will 
suffice to give our poor but immense population in India 
the means of adding to the very few luxuries they now 
enjoy, one of the most innocent, pleasant, and salutary 
known, and thus create an internal trade, the extent of 
which it is impossible to foresee." Even if England 
should not derive its supply of tea from Assam, immense 
advantages would be derived from the partial success 
of the Assam experiments. In two or three more seasons 
we shall be able to ascertain more clearly the capabilities 
of Assam for the production and manufacture of tea. 

There is yet another advantage which may be derived 
if we are enabled to compete with the Chinese in the cul- 
tivation of the tea-tree. We can either obtain more ad- 
vantageous commercial conditions on which our inter- 
course with them may be continued ; or, if these are not 
conceded, we have the alternative of raising our supply of 
tea from Assam. We had at one period access to several 
parts of China, but have long been confined to Canton, 
at the western extremity of the empire, and at the greatest 
distance from Pekin, the capital. Canton is perhaps the 
most unsuitable port in China for a commercial empo- 
rium. It is separated by a ranee of mountains from the 
richest parts of the country and from the tea-districts ; 
and our imports are consequently diminished to the 
smallest possible quantity. Metals will not of course 
bear an expensive inland transport ; and woollen goods, 

which the climate of Pekin and the northern parts of 
China would render extremely useful, must be couveyed 
a distance of twelve hundred miles inland, and across the 
mountains they must be carried for some distance on 
men's backs. The articles of Chinese growth which arc 
purchased by Europeans at Canton have to bear not only 
the heavy expenses of internal transit, which would be 
avoided if we had access to more convenient ports, but 
their price is also enhanced immoderately by dues levied 
on shipping and by the exaction of many indirect 

Influence of the Beautiful.— Every true specimen of per- 
fection, or even excellence, of whatever kind it may be, 
from the moral down to the physical, elevates every instance 
of an inferior degree of excellence that we meet with, and 
sheds over it a portion of its own perfection. — Francis 

Simple Elements of Mens Agency*— Labour produces 
its desired effects only by conspiring with the laws of na- 
ture. There is no commodity, or thing produced for con- 
sumption, which labour provides in any other way than by 
co-operating with the laws of nature. It is found that the 
agency of man can be traced to very simple elements. He 
can do nothing more than produce motion. He can move 
things towards one another, and he can separate them from 
one another : the properties of matter perform all the rest 
He moves ignited iron to a portion of gunpowder, and ac 
explosion takes place. He moves the seed to the ground, 
and vegetation commences. He separates the plant from 
the ground, and vegetation ceases. Why, or how, these 
effects take place, he is ignorant He has only ascertained 
by experience, that if he perform such and such motions, 
such and such events will follow. In strictness of speech, 
it is matter itself which produces the effects. All that men 
can do is to place the objects of nature in a certain position. 
— Mill's Poll Heal Economy. 

Variety of Dispositions and Occupations .—It is the 
great wisdom and providence of the Almighty so to order 
the dispositions and inclinations of men, that they affect 
divers and different works and pleasures; some are for 
manuary trades, others for intellectual employments ; one 
is for the land, another for the sea ; one for husbandry, 
another for merchandise ; one is for architecture, another 
for vestiary services ;* one is for fishing, another for pas- 
turage ; and in the learned trades, one is for the mistress of 
the sciences, divinity; another for the law, whether civil or 
municipal ; a third is for the search of the secrets of nature, 
and the skill and practice of physic ; and each one of these 
divides itself into many differing varieties. Neither is it 
otherwise in matter of pleasures : one places his delight in 
following his hawk and hound, another in the harmony of 
music ; one makes his garden his paradise, and enjoys the 
flourishing of his fair tulips, another finds contentment in 
a choice library ; one loves his bowl or his bow, another 
pleases himself in the patient pastime of his angle. For 
surely, if all men affected one and the same trade of life, or 
pleasure of recreation, it were not possible that they could 
live one by another ; neither could there be any use of com- 
merce, whereby man's life is maintained; neither could it 
be avoided but that the envy of the inevitable rivality would 
cut each others throats. It is good reason we should make 
a right use of this gracious and provident dispensation of 
the Almighty ; and therefore that we should improve our 
several dispositions and faculties to the advancing of the 
common stock ; and withal, that we should neither encroach 
upon each other's profession, nor be apt to censure each 
other's recreation. — Bishop Hall. 

• Such occupations as that of a clothier. — Eo 

%• The Office of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge is at 
69, Lincoln's Inn fields. 

Printed by William Clowm and'Bovs, Stamford S'reet, 

Digitized by 



of not 

Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. 



[February 29, 1840. 


[The Abbey Church, Romtey, Hampshire.] 

The antient town of Romsey, Romseige, or Romesege, 
has more claims to attention and is better calculated to 
reward that attention than many other places of double 
the population. It is still of considerable magnitude as 
a country-town in an agricultural district, the population 
of the two parishes, Extra and Infra, being 5432, ac- 
cording to the census of 1831, which is an increase of 
26 per cent, within the twenty years preceding. This is 
a little remarkable, because, during that time the last 
remains of its lingering woollen manufacture have 
gone, and the manufacture of paper, which once was con- 
siderable, is very greatly reduced. The only manufactures 
that it can now be said to have are those of parchment and 
other dressed skins ; and the chief trade, besides the vend- 
ing of these, is wool-stapling. The town is, however, situ- 
ated in the middle of a rich agricultural district, upon 
the left bank of the little river Test, about ten miles from 
Winchester, fourteen from Salisbury, and eight from 
Southampton ; and a great deal of business is done in 
the purchase of corn and the preparation of flour and 

Romsey Abbey was founded very early in the tenth 
century, and appears to have been richly endowed. It 
vat a nunnery, and several members of the Saxon royal 
family were abbesses. The original buildings were 
totally destroyed by the Danes, and subsequently rebuilt. 
It is impossible to say what may have been the style of 
architecture in the Abbey, properly so called, because no 
part of it remains ; the church, however, is Norman, aa 
u evinced by its majestic height, and the bold mouldings 
Vol. IX. 

and sculptures on the capitals. But while the buildings 
of the Abbey, the cloisters, and all that gave the place a 
monastic air, have been swept away, the church has been 
carefully preserved, and is one of the most spacious and 
elegant in the county. 

The situation on which the church stands is command- 
ing, and though its elevation above the irrigated meadows 
is not great, it is dry. Along the north there is the 
churchyard, and if beauty could be predicated of the last 
mansion of the dead, one would call it beautiful. On 
the west there is a pleasant little spot, tastefully laid out 
in grass and shrubs and flowers, and not used as a 
burying-ground. The eastern precinct, within the gates, 
consists of a paved court ; and on the south, where the 
apartments of the abbess and her nuns, with due accom- 
modation for father confessors, were situated, is occupied 
by buildings, among others by the hall in which the 
sessions for this division of the county are held, and which 
is given up to the Literary and Scientific Institution upon 
lecture-nighta. Some foundations and other remains of 
the Abbey existed here till lately ; but we believe they 
are now all cleared away. 

The church is, as is usual in complete structures of this 
kind, in the form of a cross, consisting of a nave and chancel 
as the stem, and two transepts as the arms, with a massive 
tower supported upon pillars, and circular arches over the 
intersection. The length of the nave and chancel is about 
240 feet, and the breadth along the transepts more than 
120. The whole is very lofty, even in proportion to the 
extent of the horizontal dimension*,^ The chancel and 

Digitized by (5C 



[February 29, 

transepts, with the eastern part of the nave, are in the 
richest stvle of purely Norman architecture; and the 
tower is also Norman ; but the western part is of a mixje4 
style, inclining to what is usually termed Gothic, with 
pointed windows divided by muUioua, and tlje f reat west 
window consists of three lancet -headed compartments, 
the central one more lofty than the others, so that they 
harmonise with a large pointed arch of blind masonry in 
which they are included. The internal ornaments on the 
arches of the most ancient part are, generally speaking, 
zigzags in very bold relief ; and the architecture of the 
whole of this portion is in very fine taste. Though more 
modern, the western part is inferior, but still it is hand- 
some. The nave has side aisles parted off by pillars ; 
and round the chancel there is an external passage of 
some width, inferior in height to the interior, but with 
singularly fantastic sculptures on the capitals of some of 
the pillars. In this place some of the best monuments 
are situated, which is in much better taste than if they 
were in the place devoted to public worship — though 
there are some there also. The modern communion 
table is placed upon the high altar, within the doubly 
enclosed part of the chancel ; and here there is a neat 
modern window of stained glass. The pulpit is con- 
siderably in advance of this, so that the voice of thl 
preacher may be alike audible in the transepts and 
the portion of the nave which is included in the church. 
The pewage of the whole is modern and verv neat. 
No part of the roof is arched ; but the 
communion table has a compartmented 
painted, although the painting is modttu, » uu mp exe- 
cuted by an inhabitant of the town. The flooring under 
the tower, which cuts it off from being a lantern, for 
which purpose it was perhaps never intended, is also in 
compartments, and the painting upon it is ancient and 
faded. The transepts and nave have no ceiling ; but 
the oaken roofs, which do not appear to have been re- 
paired since the first erection, and which stand in no 
need of repair even now, although plain, are handsome, 
well contrived, and very substantial. In speaking of 
the roofs, we may mention that there are upon the sides 
of the tower cheveron marks, each higher than the other, 
which indicate the existence of two former roofs, both of 
which were probably of stone, before the introduction of 
lead, as even the lowest of the two has a much higher 
pitch than the present leaden one. 

The eastward angles, between the transepts and the 
chancel, are filled up by two buildings enclosed by arcs 
of circle?, which may at one time have been the chapels 
or chantries of local saints whose names have now perished 
with the record ; but one of them is now used as a vestry, 
and the other is a sort of grammar-school, while a Sunday- 
school is held in a divided portion on the west end of the 
south aisle of the nave. The tower, which surmounts the 
intersection of the body and transepts of the church, is 
accessible by a circular staircase enclosed in the wall at 
the south-western angle, and consists of 151 stone steps. 
Near the top of the tower, or rather in a wooden belfry 
over it, there is a peal of eight bells of the finest tone ; 
and the lead roof surrounding this belfry, and enclosed by 
a very low parapet, commands a delightful view of the 
surrounding country. Some years ago there was rather 
a singular curiosity upon this Toof ; — it was an apple-tree 
which grew upon a small portion of mould there, and 
blossomed and ripened its fruit every year, in the same 
perfection as if it had been in an orchard. It does not, 
however, exist at the present time, but whether it was 
removed by natural decay or by ejectment we are not in- 

There are many architectural peculiarities in the inside 
of Romsey church which are well worthy of being known ; 
but they are not subjects for the pen, or even for the 
pencil, except for the most skilful artist. If the in- 
terior could be seen from a favourable point of view, the 

representation of it ? looking toward th$ chanqel, wpuld 
be a treat in ancient architecture ; but the division of 
tfie length by the screen below the gallery — though a 
very fine one — and the curtain above the gallery, which 
is to the fulj |s ugly, defeat $e af ti&t in this, and there is 
no recourse but in geometrical measurements and a per- 
spective projection, which the usual rewards of modern 
art could not afford. An actual visitor may manage it, 
because he can shift his eye from point to point, while 
his memory retains a perfect knowledge of the portion 
last seen ; but as the perspective draughtsman can have 
no more than one point of sight, a good view of the in- 
terior of Romsey church is one of the impossibilities, and 
therefore, to be fully appreciated, it must be actually 

We have left but little space to notice the sculptures 
and monuments. The former are few, with the excep- 
tion of the grotesque figures on the capitals of some of 
the pillars and along the mouldings under the eaves of 
the nave, together with a very fine representation of 
the Crucifixion upon the western wall of the south tran- 
had once been under the cloisters, in the 
the nuns from their apartments to a highly 
doorway near the angle where this transept 
ith aisle of the nave. Among the moau- 
mputs uijc most notable is that of the highly gifted and 
remarkably successful Sir William Petty, ancestor of the 
Marquis of Lansdowne, and one Vnows not whether most 
to admire the character of the man or the simplicity 
of the monument. It is a rude stone in the pavement 
without the chancel, and near the door of the vestry ; 
and the only inscription on it is, " Here leyes Sir William 


Sevbr4l of the leading Mechanics' Institutes in the 
couutry have recently adopted the plan of preparing 
temporary exhibitions of objects of science and art, pic- 
tures, antiquities, natural curiosities, &c, which have 
been so well managed as to have attracted a large number 
of visitors. The funds of the institutions have not only 
been benefited, but a stronger interest has been aroused 
as to the objects which they are designed to promote. 
We have received two Reports of Committees appointed 
to manage the Exhibitions of the Mechanics' Institutes at 
Sheffield and Leeds • and as a great number of such in- 
stitutions in other parts of the country might prepare 
exhibitions of a similar character, we give a short account 
of the arrangements which were made at the above two 

At Sheffield, the town and neighbourhood were can- 
vassed by the managers of the proposed exhibition, and 
it is creditable both to the members of the Mechanics' 
Institute and to the inhabitants that 436 contributors 
were found, from whom the loan of 2654 objects and 
specimens of various kinds were obtained; and the 
Council of the Literary and Philosophical Society granted 
the use of their Museum, which was kept open from the 
commencement to the close of the exhibition. The loans 
from individuals comprised 1460 specimens of manufac- 
tures, models, &c. ; 387 oil-paintings, 45 water-colour 
drawings, 43 pencil drawings, 153 engravings, 46 me- 
dallions in wax and plaster, 76 busts and plaster figures, 
4 specimens of needlework, 280 specimens of natural 
history, 140 groups of geological specimens, and 20 cases 
of entomological specimens. The Music-hall was en- 
gaged at a rent of twenty guineas per month. The 
Report says:— "37,773 persons purchased single admis- 
sion tickets at 6rf. each; 1868 bought season-tickets at 
29. 6d. each ; 5907 scholars belonging to Sunday and 
other free schools were admitted, chiefly at Id. each 
The poor inmates of the Sheffield and Brightside Bierlow 
workhouses, and the boys and girls belonging to *he 

Digitized by 





charity schools, *tre all admitted gratis. The receipts 
at the doors, together with profits on confectionary sold, 
amounted to 1318/. iOx. 4a. The total expenses were 
651/. 10/. 10W., leaving a balance of 666/. 10*. 5W. in 
favour of the institution. The individuals who saw the 
exhibition, including the repeated visits of those who took 
season tickets, would scarcely be less than 70,000. 

The moral results of Such an exhibition are of a valuable 
kind, and such as to encourage other institutions, and 
those who may be disposed to assist them, in following 
the example of Sheffield. The Committee observe : — 
w First, there is no doubt that the owners of rare and va- 
loable articles possess means of forwarding the moral and 
mental education of the people ; and the contributors to 
the late exhibition have, by their liberal conduct, done 
perhaps as much to benefit the working classes of Sheffield 
as they could possibly have done in any other way. 
Secondly, your Commit " * that in the pre- 

sent condition of society rary instruction 

will be most effectually given to tne people m connection 
with rational and recreative enjoyments." 

At Leeds, we learn from a printed circular addressed 
to individuals who had lent specimens, that the exhibition 
had also been highly successful. It was open during 
three months, and the Committee state that " within that 
period, 87,908 persons have been admitted at 6d. each, 
and 6220 persons have purchased season-tickets, whose 
aggregate visits have amounted to 96,005 ; making a total 
of admissions of 183,913. Allowing for the repeated 
visits of persons who have paid the sixpenny admission, 
not less than 93,500 individuals have enjoyed the high 
gratification of attending the exhibition. The receipts, 
inclusive of about 425/. proceeding from the sale of 
catalogues, and of several poetical effusions written for the 
occasion, and the profits on confectionary, amount to the 
sum of above 3400/. ; and, after deducting the ascer- 
tained and probable expenses of the exhibition, it is sup- 
posed that more than 2000/ will remain to be appro- 
priated to tne object contemplated by its promoters." 

Here also the moral effects were very encouraging. 
The greatest order and decorum were at all times ob- 
served ; and the Committee state that they cannot but con- 
clude that " the large resort of visitors indicates a grow- 
ing taste for the contemplation 4 of the works of art and 
nature, and the study of science ; and they feel assured 
that that taste has been materially strengthened by the 
concentration, in a small space, of so many splendid and 
beautiful, and, in some instances, rare specimens of 


Wb apply the term ' tea-making,' in this instance, to the 
preparation which the leaf of the tea-plant undergoes be- 
fore it is fit to be made use of as an infusion. Green 
and black teas, to one or other of which class all the 
varieties of tea in consumption belong, are not, as generally 
imagined, the produce or two distinct varieties of the tea- 
tree, but the distinction is occasioned solely by the dif- 
ferent mode in which the leaves are manipulated by the 
tea-maker. Not only, therefore, may black or green tea 
he prepared from tne same plant, but all the different 
varieties of each sort. 

In the tea-plantations in China the trees are planted in 
^Straight line, three or four feet apart, on small ridges 
dght inches or a foot in height. When they are three 
* four years old, — for soil and situation cause some 
difference as to time, — the leaves may be plucked at the 
poper season without injury to the plant. If the weather 
■ warm and fine, and the season has not been very cold, 
1* first crop of leaves is plucked in May ; the second 
©op about six or seven weeks afterwards ; and a third 
Jfccking commences about six weeks after the second is 
finished. The season therefore lasts from May until 

after the middle of July. Some plants produce Hlb. of 
leaves in the season ; but the average is usually a quarter 
of a pound for the first crop ; the second crop yields 
rather a smaller quantity ; and a third crop is not in- 
variably taken, for fear of injuring the trees. 

The quality of teas, whether black or green, depends 
upon the period of the season when the leaves are plucked. 
The finest tea is made from the tender and fleshy buds 
pinched off above the stem. The coarser teas are made 
from leaves gathered when they are fully grown, the per- 
sons employed nipping off, with the fore-finger and 
the thumb, the fine end of the branch, with about four 
leaves on it; and sometimes more if they look tender. 
The circumstances which primarily determine the price 
of different kinds of tea is therefore evident; but this 
may be made clearer and the subject of tea-making more 
completely illustrated by a brief notice of the principal 
varieties of each class of teas ; and we will begin with 
the Black Teas, as five-sixths of the teas consumed in 
this country are of this class. 

1. Pekoe, a corruption of the Chinese name of Pak-ho 
(" white down"), consists of the newly developed buds 
before they have had much time to expand. Black- 
leaved Pekoe is made from leaves which have been al- 
lowed to grow a few days longer. 2. Souchong (in 
Chinese Seaou-choong, " small or scarce sort ") is from 
the fully-developed leaf when in its tenderest state, and 
forms the finest sort of the stronger black teas. 3. Con- 
gou, the next in quality to Souchong, is called by the 
Chinese Koong-foo (" labour — assiduity"), and consists 
of a careful selection of the full-grown leaf before it has 
become old and coarse. Campoi, a corruption of Kien- 
poey (" selection— choice") is a superior variety of Congou. 
4. The least esteemed tea comes from a district called 
Bohea, and with us the name is applied to black tea of 
the lowest quality. Thus, Canton Bohea is a mixture of 
the commonest : in ferior tea of the province. 

The leaves ai m they have attained their 

full growth an old and coarse, and on this 

account the Cmnese can uonea Ta-cha (" large tea"). 
Partly on a jjected more to the fire, the 

infusion is han any other sort of tea ; 

and the m ie leaves are gathered will 

account for contains. 

Green U ;y are of a more delicate 

flavour than tne corresponaing qualities of black tea. 
They are less fired, and consequently will not keep quite so 
well. The following are the principal kinds in use in 
this country : — I. Young Hyson is made from the earliest 
gathered leaves of the season, and by the Chinese is called 
Ya-tsien (" before the rains"). Hyson Pekoe is a supe- 
rior variety, which is so slightly fired and delicate as not 
to bear the voyage to Europe. 2. Hyson, from a Chinese 
name signifying " flourishing spring," is gathered when 
the leaves are in the course of development, and it is 
prepared with the greatest care, every leaf being separately 
twisted and rolled by hand. " Gunpowder" is a selection 
of the roundest and best rolled Hyson, and is called by 
the Chinese Choo-cha (" pearl tea"). 3. Hyson-skin is 
a selection of the coarser leaves of Hyson, as Gunpowder 
is of the finer ; but, though consisting of leaves which 
are the least twisted or which are in any way of a less 
fine appearance, Hyson-skin is necessarily a superior . 
description of tea, as the bulk from which it is taken is 
of the best quality. 4. Twankay is made from older 
leaves and with less care than any of the preceding, and 
is therefore the cheapest kind of green tea : of the green 
teas consumed in England three- lour ths are Twankay. 

Comparing green teas with black, Twankay and Bohea 
may be placed in a corresponding scale ; Congou corre- 
sponds with Hyson-skin, Souchong with Hyson, and 
Young Hyson with Pekoe. 

In the following details the mode described of making 
Black Tea is that practised at Sudiya, in Upper Assam, 


Digitized by 




[February 29, 

by the Chinese employed under Mr. Bruce, the superin- 
tendant of tea culture. 

The leaves, being brought to the place where they are 
to be converted into tea, are thinly scattered in large cir- 
cular open-worked bamboo baskets, and placed in the 
frame-work of bamboo represented in Fig. I. Here they 
are left exposed to the sun for about two hours, or until 

they have a slightly withered appearance, the leaves in 
the meantime being occasionally turned by the hand. 
The baskets are then taken into a covered building and 
placed on a frame similar to the above, except that the 
upper part is not sloping ; and after cooling half an hour, 
the leaves are put into smaller baskets of a similar 
kind, and placed on a stand. The tea-makers now 
take the leaves up between their hands, with the fingers 
and thumb extended, gently tossing them up and down for 
the space of five or ten minutes. The baskets are again 
put on the frame for half an hour, when they are again 
manipulated as before. When this has been done three 
successive times, the leaves feel something like soft leather. 
The next process is " firing." The leaves are put into 
cast-iron pans fixed in a circular mud fire-place {Fig. 2), 

and the pan being well heated by a straw or bamboo fire, 
about two pounds of leaves are spread equally in each 
pan. While on the fire, the leaves are frequently turned 
with the naked hand, to prevent their burning, and as 
soon as they become inconveniently hot they are re- 
ceived by another man into a closer-worked bamboo 
basket, and taken to a table having a narrow rim round 
it. The two pounds of hot leaves are divided amongst 
two or three men, and each forms a ball of the por- 
tion of leaves allotted to him, which is grasped gently 
in the hand, with the thumb and finger extended, 
as in Fig. 3. Some force is used to express any juice 

Fig. 3. 

which may remain in the leaves. Mr. Bruce says that 
in thiB part of the process " the art lies in giving the 
ball a circular motion and permitting it to turn under 
and in the hand two or three whole revolutions before 

the arms are extended to their full length, and drawing 
the ball of leaves quickly back without leaving a leaf be- 
hind." The ball is rolled in this way for about Bye 
minutes, during which it is two or three times opened 
gently with the fingers, lifted as high as the face, and 
then allowed gently to fall again, to separate the leaves. 

The fire is again resorted to ; and as soon as the 
leaves are taken back to the hot pans they are spread out 
in them as before ; also turned with the hand ; and when 
hot taken out and brought again to the table, where the 
rolling process just described is repeated. The leaves are 
next put into the drying basket, and spread three or four 
inches deep in a sieve, in the centre of the basket, and 
then placed over a glowing charcoal fire free from smoke, 
a passage being left in the centre of the sieve for the hot 
air to ascend. As soon as they appear half dried, and 
while still rather soft, the leaves are taken off the fire, 
and placed in large open-worked baskets, which are put 
on the frame, where they remain for some time in order 
that their colour may be improved. 

On the following day the leaves are sorted into large, 
middling, and small, which form so many different 
varieties of tea ; and each sort is again put in the drying 
basket, but this time the sieve is only slightly covered 
with leaves. As quickly as the leaves become crisp with 
the action of the fire, they are thrown into a large receiving 
basket. Again, however, they are subjected to the fire, 
but now they are placed eight or ten iuches deep in the 
sieve, a small passage being left for the hot air as before, 
and another basket is thrown over the whole to throw back 

the heat. (Fig. 4.) The fire, which was before bright and 
clear, is deadened ; the basket is occasionally taken off 
and placed on the frame (Fig. 5), the leaves gently turned 
over, and the basket replaced on the fire. Mr. Bruce 
says that the process is thoroughly completed when the 

Fig. 5. 
leaves have become so crisp as to break under the 
slightest pressure of the fingers. The tea is now put 
into boxes, being first pressed down with the hands and 
then by the feet, the men engaged having first put on 
clean stockings. 

We do not yet possess minute details of the process of 
making green tea, which is manufactured in China by a 
class distinct from the black-tea makers ; but it is pro- 
bable that we shall not be long without information from 
Assam on this point equally minute as the account from, 
which we have obtained the above details. 

Digitized by 





In the districts in Assam where the tea-plant grows 
wild, a very rude mode of preparing the leaves is prac- 
tised. In the Singpho country the natives pluck the 
young and tender leaves and dry them a little in the sun, 
or put them out into the dew and then expose them 
to the sun for three successive days; or again, others, 
after a little drying, put the leaves into a heated pan, 
taming them about until they have become quite hot. 
They are then put into the hollow of a bamboo, the whole 
being driven down with a stick, the bamboo being held 
over the fire until it is full. Some leaves are then tied 
over the end and the bamboo is hung up in some smoky 
corneT of the hut ; and it is said that the tea thus pre- 
pared will preserve its properties for mauy years. East- 
ward of the Singpho country, a still more singular 
method of tea-making is adopted. Holes are dug in the 
earth, and the sides being lined with large leaves of 
some kind, the tea leaves, after being partially boiled, are 
put into the hole, which is then covered with earth, 
and the mass in the interior is allowed to ferment. It 
is afterwards taken out and filled into bamboos, and in 
this manner is an article of commerce in Thibet, re- 
sembling probably the "tea-cakes" described in No. 
484 of the ' Penny Magazine.' 


Wheib we say, with reference to an apparently worthless 
object, that it is " not worth a button," we do not quite 
know what we are talking about. A button, considered 
with respect to the manufacturing wealth of the country, 
is anything but an insignificant article ; for the produc- 
tion of the various kinds which are worn by us gives em- 
ployment to many thousand persons, men, women, and 
children, in the north of England ; and at a time when 
the legislature was more prone than at present to interfere 
with the natural progress of trade and manufactures, nu- 
merous statutes were made, having for their object the 
protection and advancement of the button-trade. Strenuous 
efforts were even made to stem the course of fashion, and 
to keep the public taste in a path favourable to the early 
button-makers; but such efforts generally fail in their 

The ancients do not appear to have used buttons, 
except a few on the shoulders and arms of women's 
tunics ; or two, connecting the two square pieces of the 
tunic, near the neck. Among the people and the 
soldiery, brass buttons frequently fastened a kind of cloak 
on the right shoulder. They appear to have been used 
in England, probably more for ornament than use, in the 
tenth century : gold or silver was generally the material 
of which they were made, and they were of foreign manu- 

As to the materials of which buttons have been made 
m more recent times, they are almost innumerable ; but 
among them are gold, silver, plated copper, white metal, 
pinchbeck, steel, japanned tin, glass, foil-stones, mother- 
of-pearl, ivory, bone, horn, tortoiseshell, jet, cannel coal, 
paper, leather, &c, exclusive of those buttons which con- 
sist of a mould of wood or bone, covered with mohair, 
cloth, thread, or some similar substance. We will take 
a rapid glance at the modes of manufacturing some of 
these kinds of buttons. 

Those which are called covered buttons have generally 
a central piece of flat horn or bone called a mould. 
These moulds are small circles, perforated in the centre, 
tnd made from those refuse chips of bone which are too 
•mall for other purposes. For large or coarse buttons, 
these moulds are generally made of wood ; but whether 
hone or wood, they are formed as follows : — the material 
it sawn into thin and equal flakes, from which the moulds 
are cut out by an operation which, at the same time, 
makes a perforation through the centre. A lathe is pro- 
vided with a cutting tool having three projecting points. 

A girl places a flake of bone or wood in a position where 
the tool can act upon it, and, by the rotation of the tool, 
the two outer points cut out the circular mould, while the 
central point perforates through it. While this is doing, 
the surface of the mould is worked smooth by the parts 
of the tool intermediate between the points. When a 
mould is thus made, it is dropped into a box beneath, and 
the girl exposes a new part of the slip of horn to the 
action of the instrument. A girl, ten or twelve years of 
age, is enabled to cut out twenty or thirty button-moulds 
per minute in this manner. The fragments, sawdust, 
&c, are all sold for manure, &c, so that not a particle of 
bone is lost. If wood be employed, it is generally oak, 
beech, or elder, dyed black with nut-galls or some similar 

These button-moulds were formerly covered with threads 
of gold, silver, silk, and other costly materials. Several 
women sat round a table, each having a large needle fixed 
in the table opposite the part where she was seated, and 
also a bobbin or reel, containing the thread which she 
was to use. The mould was held by the hole in its centre 
upon the needle, and the end of the golden or other 
thread was at the same time put through the hole and 
fixed. The thread was then wound over and round every 
part of the mould in a peculiar way, so as everywhere to 
present a surface of thread, and also a determinate pattern, 
according to the fashion of the day. When this was 
effected, the end of the thread was secured ; and, at the 
back of the button, a number of the folds of thread were 
taken up and tied together, so as to form a kind of shank 
for fixing the button to the garment. 

Such was the kind of button worn in England for a 
long period, and their manufacture employed a very large 
number of persons, chiefly aged females and children, 
who covered the moulds with threads of various kinds. 
When the fashion arose of covering the moulds with the 
same cloth as the garment was made of, a great outcry 
arose, and a petition was presented to parliament, of which 
the following is a part : — " It appears by long experience 
that needle-wrought buttons have been a manufacture of 
considerable importance to the welfare of this kingdom, 
insomuch that whenever such buttons have been disused, 
the wisdom of the nation hath always interposed, as may 
be seen by the several acts passed in the reigns of King 
William, Queen Anne, and of his Majesty in this present 
parliament. Yet, notwithstanding the said acts, the 
tailors continue to make buttons and button-holes of the 
same materials the cloths are made of; and the said 
acts cannot be put in execution, because of the great 
difficulties that attend the detecting and prosecuting the 
offenders." The petitioners then pray for some additional 
protection, but with little success, for tyrant fashion little 
respects acts of parliament on these subjects. Very 
little has been known of these needle-WTOught buttons 
within the last half century, for more speedily-executed 
plans were sought for. 

For common wear, horn buttons, without any covering, 
have been much employed. These are made both with 
and without shanks, those without shanks having four 
holes, by which they may be attached to the garments. 
These last-named horn buttons are made concave in front, 
to preserve the thread by which they are sewed : they are 
made as follows :— cow-hoofs are boiled in water till they 
become soft, and are then cut into parallel slips by a 
cutting-knife or blade, which acts as a lever bv having 
a hinge at one end. These slips, which are of the width 
of the diameter of the button, are then cross-cut into 
small squares, and the angles cut off. The pieces are 
dyed black by being immersed in a cauldron containing 
a solution of logwood and copperas, and then dried. A 
mould is formed, something like a pair of pincers, each 
half having six or eight small steel dies fastened to it, 
each die containing the impression of the intended button 
embossed upon it. When shut close, the opposite dies 

Digitized by 




.[February 29, 

exactly correspond, and represent the entire shape of the 
button. The mould being heated somewhat above the 
temperature of boiling water, a piece of horn is placed 
upon each impression in it, and the mould is then closed 
and confined within a powerful press or vice. The united 
action of the heat and of the pressure forces the pieces 
of horn to take the exact impression of the two halves of 
the dies, and they come out in the form of buttons, plain 
or embossed, as the case may be, but with their outer edge 
a little ragged : this roughness is removed by filing, the 
button being held in a lathe. 

If the horn button thus made is to have no shank, four 
or five holes are drilled through it by an ingeniously-con- 
structed lathe ; but if shanks are required, these must be 
firmly united to the horn. The shanks are made in a 
curious manner. Brass or iron wire is wrapped spirally 
round a steel bar by the rotation of the bar in a lathe. 
The coil is then slipped off the bar, forced into a some- 
what oval form, and cut through its whole length, so that 
each turn of the coil produces a button-shank of an oval 
form, with two disengaged ends. More recently an ele- 
gant little machine has been invented, which, by the 
simple turning of a winch, supplies itself with wire from 
a reel, and delivers it, cut and bent, to the proper figure 
of the shank : each turn of the winch forms a shank. 
Shanks such as these are inserted in the horn buttons by 
children, who, previous to the pressing in the mould, drill 
a hole in each button-piece, and insert the shank. The 
mould has a cavity tor receiving the shank, and the 
pressure closes the horn about it so effectually, that it 
will not come out. Sometimes horn buttons are made 
plain, and then have a pleasing device made upon them 
by placing on their surface a thin plate with a pattern 
cut in it : by rubbing over the plate with emery-powder, 
the horn will become scratched or deadened through the 
holes in the plate, but left polished at the other parts. 

Metal Buttons are used to an enormous extent, though 
at present, perhaps, not so much as they were twenty 
years ago. They are made in two ways, either by casting 
or by stamping, the latter of which is the most general. 
The casting of buttons is thus effected : a considerable 
number, from fifty to a hundred and fifty, of buttons of 
any desired pattern are ranged near each other, and con- 
nected by little bits of metal. An impression from this 
collected pattern is made in sand, by pressing the button 
evenly on a very smooth sandy surface ; by this means 
every button makes a mould, exactly the same size, form, 
and pattern as itself. A shank is then pressed into the 
sand in the centre of each impression, the part which is 
to enter the metal being left projecting above the surface 
of the sand. The buttons are now cast, from whatever 
metal may be chosen for that purpose; brass, pewter, 
tin, and zinc, used either singly, or combined two or 
three together, are the usual materials for such buttons, 
the zinc being used chiefly to enable the other metals to 
flow more readily into the moulds. When the buttons 
cast from the melted metal are cold, they are cleaned from 
the sand by brushing ; they are then broken asunder, 
and each button carried to a second workman at the 
lathe, who, after having retained it firmly by means of 
the shank, carefully files the circumference, by which he 
reduces it to a true circle. By removing the button to 
another lathe, the back and face are smoothed and ren- 
dered even by tools fitted for the purpose. The buttons 
are then polished, by fixing the shanks in a piece of 
board, ana rubbing the faces on another board covered 
with leather and strewed with rotten-stone and oil. The 
last polish is given by applying the button lightly to the 
edge of a wheel covered with soft leather, and dressed with 
very fine powder of rotten-stone. Sometimes buttons of 
this kind are rendered white, somewhat resembling silver. 
To produce this effect, melted tin is poured into cold 
water, and by this means granulated. A quantity of 
cream of tartar, diluted with water, is put into a boiler, 

and the tin added to it ; the toiling causos part of the 
tin to be dissolved ; and the buttons being let down into 
the liquor upon a wire grating, part of the tin attaches 
itself to the metal buttons, rendering them white, and 
preserving their former polish. This method of washing 
with tin produces a white colour which remains for a 
considerable period. 

But the gilt button is the most interesting result of this 
manufacture. Here there is no casting. The button is 
stamped out from copper, slightly alloyed with zinc, and 
laminated in a flatting-mill to the proper thickness. The 
stamp is moved by a fly-press, which cuts out circular 
pieces, called blanks, at one stroke. These blanks are 
annealed in a furnace, to soften them, and the maker's 
name, &c, is struck on the back by another stamp. 

Into the blanks thus made, the shanks are fixed. A 
shank is placed upon each blank, and held down upon it 
by a sort of spring tweezers. A small quantity of spelter 
and borax is placed round each shank, and ten or twelve 
dozen in this state are introduced, upon a large iron 
shovel, or peel, into an oven, heated sufficiently to fuse 
the solder. When this is effected, the shanks are found 
to be firmly united to the blanks. The edge of each 
button is then turned smooth in a lathe, and a number 
of buttons are dipped into a pickle of dilute nitric acid, 
to cleanse their surfaces. Each button is then burnished 
with a hard black stone, called blood-stone, fixed into a 
handle, and applied to the button as it revolves by the 
motion of a lathe ; the stone employed is a peculiar kind 
of iron-ore, found at many places in Derbyshire. 

The buttons are now in the state to be covered with a 
thin film of gold. The gold, mixed with mercury, is 
placed in an iron ladle, and heated until they arc per- 
fectly united. This amalgam of gold is put in an earthen 
pan, and a quantity of dilute nitric acid being poured in, 
the buttons are introduced, and stirred about in the mix- 
ture by means of a brush. The chemical nature of what 
ensues is curious ; for the acid acts as an agent for spread- 
ing the amalgam over the surface of the copper button,** 
and the mercury of the amalgam acts as the agent by 
which the gold, the other ingredient of the amalgam, is 
permanently fixed on the copper ; neither the acid nor 
the mercury are of use except as agents, as means to an 
end. Consequently, when the process which we have 
just described, and which is called quicking, is completed, 
the nitric acid is washed off by means of clean water ; 
and subsequently the mercury is also driven off, but by 
the aid of heat instead of water. The processes con- 
nected with the driving off of the mercury, as well as 
some details respecting the extraordinary thinness of the 
film of gold left upon the button, will be found in a 
paper on the " Divisibility of Gold in Manufactures'* 
(' Penny Magazine,' vol. i., p. 402). We will therefore 
here only observe, that after the mercury is removed, the 
button is brilliantly polished. 

Plalcd buttons are made from plates of copper, to one 
side of which a thin sheet of silver has been attached by 
the powerful pressure of the flatting-mill. The blanks 
are cut out of this sheet by a stamp, as in the gilt button, 
and the shank is fixed to it with silver solder, and with 
the aid of a blow-pipe, for the heat of an oven applied to 
the whole button would endanger the silver. The wash- 
ing in nitric acid, the burnishing, &c, are applied as in 
the last instance, but neither mercury nor gold is em- 

Cup buttons, either plated or gilt, are made of two 
pieces, viz. a common flat button with a shank, aud a 
small hemisphere fixed on in front. These hemispheres 
are punched out by the fly-press, and then the inside is 
turned iu a lathe, to receive the edge of the plain button, 
made as before described. When put in its place, the 
edge of the cup is burnished down over it to hold it fust. 
I These buttons are afterwards gilt and burnished in the 
I same manner as plain ones. 

Digitized by 





It must be evident, that most of the materials for but- 
tons which we have enumerated, may be manufactured 
in one or other of the few modes we have pointed out ; 
mod we need not therefore extend this, paper to dwell on 
them. We will state one or two circumstances illustra- 
tive of the extent of the button-trade. Previous to the 
year 1815, upwards of one thousand persons were em- 
ployed in Birmingham in the making of fancy white 
metal buttons, cut by an engine ; it was a cheap showy 
article, and almost the entire produce of the numerous 
hands employed was sent to the Continent A single 
artisan, well acquainted with the processes of the manu- 
facture^ happening to be detained by Bonaparte, stated 
to the Frencn government his ability to establish a work- 
shop and produce the button. He was immediately 
patronised; the trade presently left Birmingham, and 
France supplied the markets of Europe. Another kind, 
called the " Bath metal drilled shank button," of which 
20,000 gross were made at Birmingham per week, at 
one period, was lost in a similar manner. In speaking 
of buttons, Mr. Hutton says : (( In some branches of 
traffic, the wearer calls loud but in 

this, the fashions tread upon I upon 

the wearer. The consumptii onish- 

ing, and the value, in 1781, to 140 

guineas per gross." In 181o, me an oi guoing uuttons 
had arrived at such a degree of refinement in Birming- 
ham, that three pennyworth of gold was made to cover a 
gross of buttons ; these were sold at a price proportion- 
ally low. The experiment has been tried to produce gilt 
buttons without any gold; but it was found not to 
answer, the manufacturer losing more through the de- 
creased demand than he saved in the material. 


Coral is one of those many substances which for a long 
period baffled the attempts of naturalists to account for 
their origin. Growing as it does beneath the surface of 
the water, and presenting some indications^ an organised 
structure, many early observers considered it to be either 
an animal or a plant ; while on the other hand, the hard 
stony texture which coral presents induced many to class 
it among mineral productions. It presents the appear- 
ance of a kind of shrub growing beneath the water, and 
has, at the surface of its branches, certain organised 
structures, which were at one time considered to be 
flowers, but which are now known to be animals. There 
are a great number of organised structures which bear 
this character ; but we shall here confine ourselves to one 
single species of them all, viz. that one known as red 

Red coral was known in early antiquity ; and the Greeks, 
in calling it korallion (from two Greek words signifying 
to ornament and sea), merely expressed their admiration 
of it as a beautiful marine production ; but the most 
erroneous opinions were expressed concerning its nature. 
Theophrastus makes mention of it as a precious stone, 
ftiny speaks of it in his • Natural History,' as well as 
of the places whence the fishers procured it : he also 
alludes to the medicinal properties that were then attri- 
buted to it, and to the employment of it as an article of 
luxury. In his time the Indians hud the same passion 
for grains of coral that the Europeans have since nad for 
pearls. The soothsayers and diviners considered these 
grains as amulets, and wore them as being ornaments 
agreeable to the gods. The ancient Gauls ornamented 
tifteir bucklers and helmets with this brilliant production. 
¥he Romans placed pieces of coral on the cradles of new- 
burn infants, to preserve them from the maladies incident 
to infancy ; and their physicians prescribed divers pre- 
parations of coral to invalids attacked with fevers, fainting, 
ophthalmia, and many other complaints. 
f Soring tha state of barbarism into which Europe was 

plimged after the fall of Rome, few persons seem to have 
made any investigations into the nature of coral : it shared 
the fate of most other departments of natural history : 
the monks were the possessors of nearly all the knowledge 
of science then existing, and the closet of the student is 
not the place in which to study natural history. There 
does not appear any notice of coral for several centuries 
in the writings of the few authors who have been handed 
down to us. Guysonius, a writer of the fifteenth century, 
seems to be among the first of the moderns who mention 
coral, and he classes it among mineral productions. This 
opinion was then adopted by Boccone ; but subsequent 
observation induced him to give it a place among animal 
bodies. Tpurnefort, whose enthusiastic love of botany 
induced him to rank as a plant every organised substance 
whose nature was doubtful, considered coral to belong to 
the vegetable kingdom. At length, about the year 1720, 
M. Peyssounel, of Marseilles, announced a discovery, the 
correctness of which has been since fully confirmed, that 
the coral is an animal of the Polypus tribe. Since that 
period two names haye been employed, viz. lithophyles 
and zoophytes, to denote these animals, the first implying 
stone-plants, and the second animal-plants, arising pro- 
bably from the strong resemblance which it bears to all 
three kingdoms ; but modern naturalists have agreed in 
the use of the term zoophytes. 

The reader must, however, bear in mind that the 
pieces of red substance which we call coral are not, and 
never have been, really animals : they have once consti- 
tuted a kind of bone or skeleton, by which the living 
insects w Many similes have been used 

to exemp e of coral : some say that it bears 

the same le coral-insect that a skeleton does 

to the human being; some say that the relation is equi- 
valent to that between an oyster and its shell, or a snail 
and its shell ; while others consider coral a sort of nest 
for the insect ; but the analogy is not strict in any of these 
cases : without instituting a comparison, therefore, between 
coral and any other organised body, we will proceed briefly 
to explain the views of modern naturalists respecting the 
formation of this substance. 

" When a branch of living coral," says Poiret, " is drawn 
up from the sea, it presents a kind of bark spotted with 
little round tubercles, and covered with a thick adhesive 
humour, which appears to flow particularly from the 
summit of the branches, where may be seen large milk- 
like drops. Plunged again into the water, these tubercles 
expand, blow, and spread out a star-like substance with 
eight rays or arms, which M. de Marsigli, and after him 
many others, seduced by appearances, took for the flowers 
of coral. More recent experiments have demonstrated 
that these so-called flowere are really animals, armed 
polypi, lodged in cells situated at the summits and along 
the sides of the branches." Now it is supposed that this 
adhesive humour is the material from whence the bark 
or skin of the branches is formed ; and further, that when 
this bark becomes solidified by age, it hardens into a 
central core, which then forms the stone-like substance 
which we call coral. It is in a way somewhat analogous 
to this that the wood of trees is formed. Each year's 
growth adds an external coating to the substance of the 
trunk beneath the bark : this coating is comparatively 
soft; but simultaneously with its formation, an inner 
coating of the same substance is gradually hardening into 
true wood. 

Whatever be the age or the Bize of a living coral 
branch, it is always found that there is an inner substance, 
hard, compact, and capable of receiving a polish ; and 
an outer substance, soft, spongy, thin, and which soon 
dries when exposed to the air. It is in this spongy bark 
that are found numbers of little soft whitish polypi, in- 
habiting small cells. The extremities of the branch are 
Bmall and tender, and contain very little of the interior 
substance, all of which is exactly consistent with the 

Digitized by 




[February 29, 1840. 

formation of the central coral from successive layers of 
the viscous humour. The animals are found to possess 
minute gknds, in which is secreted this viscid humour, a 
humour composed of animal gluten, calcareous earth, and 
some other substances. Poiret, who paid great attention 
to the growth of coral off the coast of Barbary, offers a 
conjecture that this humour may contain the eggs of 
polypi ; and that these eggs either attach themselves to 
foreign substances, and there form new generations, or 
they remain fixed upon the paternal branch, grow up into 
polypi, and live and die there. He proceeds : — " The 
polypus dies ; but in dying it is not, like most animals, 
submitted to a dissolution which makes it an object of 
corruption. The death of a polypus is a kind of ossifica- 
tion. It becomes dried and hardened, and remains 
attached to the branch whence it acquired birth. It ap- 
pears easy after that to conceive how the coral can in- 
sensibly form branches of great extent by layers, both 
horizontal and perpendicular, of dried and hardened 
polypi. . . . This matter is augmented by the abundant 
secretions of the living polypi, and by their envelopes, 
that is, the cells which they have formed, which, piled 
one on another, enlarge the branches and form new 
ones."* Poiret sums up his remarks by saying that a 
coral is neither an animal, a plant, nor a mineral ; but an 
animal production, the metamorphosis of millions of 

The red coral of which trinkets are made is found in 
considerable quantities in the Mediterranean, particularly 
off the coast of Barbary, near Sicily, and off the southern 
coast of France. It is not found attached to sandy or 
muddy bottoms, since it always requires a firm rocky bed 
to adhere to. It springs principally from the inclined 
sides of submarine rocks, where it shoots forth in the 
form of a shrub, seldom more than a foot or eighteen 
inches in length. This coral shrub has a trunk and 
branches, which vary considerably in diameter, but are 
still very small. The trunk or principal stem attaches 
itself so firmly to the rock, that considerable force is re- 
quired to remove it; and as it is situated far below the 
surface of the sea, the fishery, or gathering of the coral, 
is a somewhat laborious employment. This is one of those 
rude occupations which are conducted nearly in the same 
manner in all times and in all countries ; and Spallan- 
zani's description of the coral fishery in Sicily will pretty 
nearly represent the present modes of proceeding, both 
there and elsewhere. 

The instrument with which the branches of coral are 
forced from the rocks is formed with two pieces of wood, 
crossing each other at right angles, and having a piece of 
net fastened on the under side to their extremities. A 
large stone is fixed where the poles intersect each other, 
that the instrument may more readily sink to the bottom. 
A cord is strongly tied round the middle of it, one end 
of which the fisherman holds in his hand, guiding thereby 
the net to those places where the coral is supposed to 
grow : the branches of coral are then made to entangle 
among the meshes of the net, are broken off, and drawn 
up. This fishery is carried on from the entrance of the 
Faro to a part of the Strait of Messina, six miles distance. 
The rocks which produce the coral, are situated almost 
in the middle of the strait, at depths varying from 350 to 
650 feet. The bottoms and caverns of the rocks are the 
places from whence the fishermen endeavour to bring up 
the coral with their nets. The fishermen have divided 
the whole tract in which they fish into ten parts. Every 
year they fish only in one of those parts, from a notion 
that ten years is necessary to the full growth and perfec- 
tion of the coral ; they say that when they transgress 
this law, they find the coral smaller and of less consist- 
ence, and the intensity of the colour to be proportionate 
to the number of years they have desisted from fishing. 

• Poiret, ' Voyage ea Barbaric* J 

The coral is generally observed to grow perpendicular to 
the plane on which it grows, whatever be the position of 
that plane. 

The number of boats employed in the coral fishery off 
Sicily is said to be about twenty, and the season is from 
April to July. Each boat is managed by eight men ; 
and the quantity of coral procured is estimated at twelve 
Sicilian quintals of two hundred and fifty pounds each. 
The gain acquired is considered adequate to the labour ; 
but the fishery is still only a secondary consideration, since 
the fishermen only follow it when they have no other em- 
ployment by which they can make a greater profit. In 
the coral fishery established off the coast of Barbary, the 
arrangements were, and we believe still are, as follows : — 
seven or eight men go in a boat, commanded by the 
proprietor : the caster throws the machine or net, while 
the other six manage the boat. The net nearly resembles 
those used at Sicily, except that two different kinds are 
employed, one for fishing up the coral where the bottom 
is smooth, and the other so constructed as to be employed 
where the bottom of the sea is rocky and unequal. When 
the fishery is over, the produce is divided into thirteen 
parts, of which the master-coraller takes four, the caster 
two, one to each of his six companions, and one for the 
agents or dealers on shore. 

When the coral has been brought on shore, it is 
separated into different qualities, and devoted to the pre- 
paration of necklaces, ear-rings, and other well-known 
trinkets. The quantity of these worn in Europe is much 
smaller than those belonging to the Arab and other 
semi-barbarous people. A great quantity of coral orna- 
ments are manufactured at Marseille, and exported from 
thence to different ports on the south and east of the Me- 
diterranean, where a ready sale is found for them. With 
respect to the mode of manufacturing ornaments from a 
branch of coral, we need merely say that coral, like gems, 
and many crystalline substances, is cut or ground upon 
a wheel with the aid of some hard but fine powder : iu 
most of such cases the surface of the wheel is softer and 
the powder employed is harder than the body which is to 
be cut. 

There are but few things, possessing commercial 
value of which the price varies so greatly as coral. It 
is stated in Macculloch's c Commercial Dictionary,* 
that coral is sold as low as one shilling per pound, 
and as high as ten guineas per ounce, the latter of 
which is more than double the price of pure gold. 
This difference of price results from differences in di- 
mensions, in colour, in compactness, in smoothness, and 
other qualities. The high price of the best coral has led, 
as in most similar instances, to the production of a coun- 
terfeit coral. This is made of well-beaten cinnabar, a 
layer of which is applied on a piece of wood, well-dried 
and polished, first moistened with size, and afterwards 
varnished with white of egg. This, however, is only one 
of the various modes in which a rough imitation of coral 
may be produced. 

In this paper we have confined our attention to the 
comparatively small patches of coral found in the Medi- 
terranean, and used by us for the production of ornaments. 
The huge coral rocks, reefs, and islands of the Pacific 
and Indian oceans form a geological phenomenon of 
too great importance to be adequately noticed in an article 
like the present. 

Genius Uncultivated.-— The richest genius, like the most 
fertile soil, when uncultivated, shoots up into the rankest 
weeds ; and instead of vines and olives for the pleasure and 
use of man, produces to its slothful owner the most abun- 
dant crop of poisons.— Hume* Essays. 

•«• The Office of the Society for the Diffusion of Ueaftil Ruowledv e U at 
50. Lioeoto'a Inn Field*. 

PrinWd by Walum Cfcoww * Sons, StamfenUtoeet, 

Digitized by 


monWs Supplement of 



Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. 


January 31 to February 29, 1840* 



wPiwiaf sad tuning trees and underwood, anon ing the form* of lb* Saxon bills, The medallion at the top shows the winter costnme. a hooded oloak, 
of the Saxon peawnt. —The subject selected from Cotton MS. Nero, D.4; Mid the ornaments from Tariom Saxon MSS.) 

February, although not one of the spring months, 
igweably to the arrangement of the four seasons into 
which the year is divided, yet amongst farmers and agri- 
culturists it is usually accounted such, provided the 
weather be not more than ordinarily cold and frosty, — 
inasmuch as it is during this month that many of the 
formers commence sowing their spring crops. 

" Go plough in the stubble, for now is the season 
For sowing of vetches, of beans, and of peason. 
Sow runcivals timely, and all that is grey ; 
Bat tow not the white till St Gregory's day.* 
Sow peason and beans in the wane of the moon ; 
Who soweth them sooner, he soweth too soon ; 
That they with the planet may rest and may rise. 
And flourish, with bearing most plentifull wise."t 

We probably may be induced, in our- agricultural 
monthly series, occasionally to introduce extracts from 
Tuner's * Five Hundred Points of Good Husbandry.' 
Although our opinion is, that there is scarcely a practi- 
cal treatise extant equal to the work in question, or a book 
upon general agriculture so pregnant with sound com- 
mon sense, and so full of practical remarks and reflections 

* St. Gregory's day occurred formerly on the 24th of March. 
Ow ancestors were accustomed to regulate many of their actions 
ty the Saints' days. 

t Tuner, Feb. Husbandry. 

Vol. IX. 

upon nearly every subject connected with farming, — we 
are, nevertheless, well aware that upon some points 
greater science and more general experience have proved 
Tusser to be in error occasionally ; yet when we take 
into consideration the period at which he wrote his work 
— now something about two hundred and eighty years 
ago— this ceases to be at all surprising. The advice he 
gives, as above, for ploughing in stubble, is decidedly 
bad ; for where farmers at the present day are too indo- 
lent or not sufficiently enlightened as to the utility of 
cutting their stubbles early in the autumn, and carting 
them to the farm-yard for the twofold purpose of their 
being used as litter and afterwards converted into manure, 
— if the soil is to be benefited by ploughing in the stub- 
ble, that operation ought to be performed several months 
before the period Tusser here alludes to. 

As regards the sowing and planting of certain crops, 
in particular periods of the moon's age ; — notwithstanding 
the opinions Tusser expresses in this and some other 
parts of his * Five Hundred Points of Good Husbandry," 
but few of our farmers at the present day pay any at- 
tention to lunar influences; although on various parts 
of the Continent the farmers still suffer themselves 
to be greatly inconvenienced by waiting for certain days, 
or periods of the moon's age, before they consign the 
seed to the bosom of the ground, in a full hope and con- 


Digitized by 




[February 29, 

fidence of receiving at the appointed time the due re- 
ward of their labours. The Americans, too, mostly 
regulate their sowing and planting, at least of various 
kinds of grain and pulse, by the age of the moon ; not- 
withstanding that they affect to consider themselves much 
less under the influence of vulgar prejudices and ancient 
superstitions than European nations generally are. 

Should the weather prove favourable in the latter part 
of this month — that is, should it be sufficiently dry to 
bring the soil into a proper state for the reception of the 
seed — barley-sowing is commenced in some parts of the 
country ; although in March, and, indeed, sometimes in 
April, a considerable breadth of the barley-lands receive 
their seed. Now is the season for sowing beans and 
peas ; and although they are often sown broad -cast, or 
under-furrow and ploughed in, beans are more frequently 
drilled, and occasionally dibbled, that is, planted in 

holes made by the hand. The system of drilling several 
sorts of crops was very little practised in England considera- 
bly short of a century ago ; and into many isolated districts 
the drill has not been introduced up to the present period. 
These, however, can scarcely be called farming districts, 
since the small farms of which they are composed con- 
tinue to be cultivated, if such a term can properly be 
applied to the wretched system of tillage, precisely in the 
same manner they were two or three generations ago. 
The introduction of the turnip husbandry was a means of 
making drills more generally used ; and as this system 
of sowing was found by the more enlightened farmers to 
possess several advantages over the ordinary broad-cast 
method, farmers at all ambitious of keeping pace with 
modern improvements in agriculture were not slow in 
adopting the drill. There are, however, soils that the 
drill cannot be profitably used upon, for seeds generally 

[Suffolk Patent DrilL- A, seed-box ; B, a weight fixed to each cooler jo press into the ground, and to adapt it to an the inequalities of the 
•oil ; C, cylinder round which the coulter chains are wound when the drill it moved from place to place s H. handles and racket- 

sown by the drill require the soil, at the period of sowiug, 
to he in a pulverised state, else the common drill cannot 
operate in the way it was intended. Evelyn, in a work 
of his upon improved agriculture, claims for himself the 
invention of the drill. But his was a rude and imper- 
fect implement, and as much unlike those of the present 
day (for we now have them of various kinds and pat- 
terns) as it is possible to conceive two implements bear- 
ing the same name to be. Many farmers, where the 
soil is in fine tilth, sow their wheat and barley crops with 
the drill, as well as their turnips, carrots, &c. Some ar- 
tificial grasses, particularly lucerne and sainfoin, are 
sometimes sown by the drill, that is, in rows, the ad- 
vantage of which is this— that it permits the soil be- 
ing stirred between the rows with a horse-hoe, which 
cannot be done when the seed is sown broad-cast. When 
corn is dear, there is a saving effected in sowing with the 
drill, less seed being required ; but the system of dibbling 
requires the least seed of all, for then the grains are 
equally distributed, none of them crowding one another, 
nor a considerable portion of them left uncovered and 
thereby lost, while some are buried so deep that they rot 
in the ground. All sorts of seeds do not, however, rot in 
the ground, though they lie dormant and do not vegetate. ' 
Mustard for instance is one of these, for it has frequently 1 

been affirmed, and is generally believed, that a field in 
which mustard has once been cultivated, though it should 
be laid down to grass for a century, when it is ploughed 
up at the expiration of that period, a considerable quan- 
tity of the seed which had been shed while crops of mus- 
tard were cultivated, will arise among any other crop 
that may be sown upon the ground ; and what appears 
more singular than this even often occurs when moors or 
waste lands are first enclosed and cultivated. Take for 
instance a dry piece of heathy ground, or a wet piece and 
drain it, where for centuries, if not from the beginning. 

Digitized by 





bo grass ever grew , burn off the heath, plough it several 
times, and manure it well with lime, and let no grass- 
seeds be brought near it, yet in a few years many sorts 
of grasses will spring up, and amongst them vast quan- 
tities of white clover. How is this ? Here is a problem 
to solve for the philosophical agriculturist. 

* Now thresh out thy barlty, for malt or for teed, 
For bread-corn, if need be, to serve as shall need : 
If work for the thresher ye mind for to have, 
Of wheat and of mestlin, nnthreahed go save/* 

As we have already hinted, the general management 
of farms and crops has altered so materially since the 
days of our poet-farmer, that we cannot invariably con- 
sult him as a text-book. We find that he advises, at this 
particular season of the year, the threshing out of barley 
"for malt or for seed," which is the general custom 
amongst fanners at present. But the use of barley as 
bread-corn is wholly dismissed from the midland and 
southern counties (those with which Tusser seems to have 
been acquainted), and confined to a few limited districts 
where wheat is little (if at all) cultivated in the hilly and 
less fruitful parts of the country. Mestlin (mastlin), 
which signifies mixed corn, but generally wheat and 
rye, is now but little cultivated ; since those who 
prefer bread made of a mixture of these two sorts of grain 
can have no difficulty in attaining their object without 
mixing the seed when it is committed to the ground. 

Having introduced the subject of threshing, it may not 
be out of place to observe that, considering the vast 
extent of labour-saving machinery which has been intro- 
duced into almost every department of trade and manu- 
factures, it is somewhat remarkable how little has been 
effected in this way among farmers and agriculturists ; 
for except the threshing-machine (and there are various 
sorts), there has not any implement been introduced that 
materially lessens the employment of farm-labourers. 
Tbe horse-rake, the draining-plough, and many other 
things have been invented that benefit the farmer, but 
none in an equal degree to the threshing-machine, where 
three or four horses, with two men and a boy, will perform 
more work (and better too) than a score of ordinary 
threshers. Threshing-machines also set men at liberty 
to hedge and ditch, and do other necessary and useful 
farm-work. And yet, except in certain rural districts, 
these machines have not become general. In some places 
the labourers became so incensed at their introduction, 
that they rioted and demolished several of them; although 
there are few sorts of labour more irksome to the pea- 
santry of the agricultural districts than threshing, parti- 
cularly barley, the beards of which are prickly, and very 
annoying to the thresher; but then it is in-door work, 
and furnishes employment in stormy weather and when 
the labourers would not be so easily able to get employ* 
ment at other work. 

" Though, night approaching, birds for rest prepays, 
Still the Hart echoes through the frosty air, 
Nor stops till deepest shades of darkness come, 
Sending, at length, the weary labourer home.*t 

Besides the two great features in farming, namely, the 
cultivation of arable and grass farms, there are also some 
others applicable to particular districts of England, 
amongst the chief of which may be considered the culti- 
vation of hops and apples. These, however, are princi- 
pally confined to the counties of Kent, Sussex, Hereford, 
Somerset, and Devon ; the three first-named comprising 
the chief hop districts, and the two last (including Here- 
ford) comprehend the principal districts where cider is 
manufactured to any considerable extent. But since the 
present season of the year does not apply peculiarly to 
the cultivation of hops, nor at all to cider-making, some 
notice of these matters may be more appropriately intro- 
duced at another period of the year. However, apple- 

* Tusser, Feb. Husbandry f Farmer's Boy.' 

orchards, and orchards in general, that may have been 
neglected iu the latter part of autumn, will now require 
some attention where the owners perform their duties to- 
wards them, and hence a few words upon their general 
management will not be out of i 

" Good fruit and good plenty doth well in the loft, 
Then make thee an orchard, and cherish it oft J 
For plant or for stock, lay aforehand to east, 
But set or remove it ere Christmas be past." 

Most of the principal apple-orchards in the cider 
counties belong to farms of a considerable size, where the 
cultivation of grass or grain, or of both conjointly, be- 
comes a matter of higher consideration with the tanner 
than his apple-crop ; and this, in some degree, may ac- 
count for the way in which great numbers of the orchards 
are neglected ; for there seems little reason to doubt the 
fact that the majority of apple-orchards are attended to 
in a careless or slovenly manner. In the first place, then, 
many very indifferent sorts of fruit continue to be planted 
as the old stocks wear out ; which may be divided into 
two classes, namely, bad bearing tress and trees pro- 
ducing poor qualities of apples. For management like 
this there is no excuse, since the trouble of cultivating 
good and bad fruit is precisely the same. Since apple- 
orchards in general are occasionally ploughed and tilled, 
one would imagine that due care would be taken in plant- 
ing them to have the trees placed at a convenient distance 
asunder, for two reasons ; first, that crops of grain or ve- 
getables might be cultivated with greater facility ; and, 
secondly, that the sun's rays should not be totally shut 
out from ripening the crops in the ground, as well as from 
the fruit growing upon a large portion of the branches. 
Another piece of bad management apparent in many of 
the apple-orchards is this : while young, the trees are 
suffered to retain many of their collateral branches so near 
the ground, that farm-stock is apt to destroy no inconsi- 
derable portion of the apple-crop ; while the lowness of 
the limbs, when the trees become of a sturdy strength, 
renders it difficult, if not wholly impracticable, to culti- 
vate the soil in a proper manner. 

Considerable difference of opinion still exists regarding 
the best season for pruning fruit-trees, or rather, perhaps, 
for pruning the cider and perry orchards. Some assert that 
pruning should be done immediately after the leaves fall 
from the trees — about the beginning of November ; but 
it is more generally performed in the latter part of 
January or during tie present month. Pruniug is often 
very indifferently done, or but half executed; either the 
superfluous branches and shoots are taken off in a slo- 
venly manner, or not to a sufficient extent. When trees 
are " hacked and hewed" in a careless way, it usually 
happens that a portion of the bark is injured, and hence 
the regular flowing of the sap is partially deranged. Old 
trees that have too much bearing-wood left in them, even 
in a good apple-season, yield but small fruit ; whereas if 
a proper quantity of the branches already in a state of 
partial decay, and such as grow athwart each other, were 
taken away, the size as well as the quality of the apples 
would be considerably improved. Undoubtedly it is 
possible to prune orchards too much, but a great majority 
of them are pruned too sparingly. 

There are few inns in any part of England where the 
traveller cannot, if he please, be accommodated with 
bottled perry or cider, and yet beyond the limits of the 
cider-producing districts it is comparatively but little 
drank by anv class of persons. Within the cider counties, 
however, it is the common beverage, taking precedence of 
malt liquors, the inhabitants generally preferring good 
cider to the best ale and porter that are brewed. This 
seems to be the effect of habit rather than in accordance 
with the national taste ; for out of those districts where 
cider can be had as cheap as the cheapest porter or ale, 

• Tusser, 

Digitized by VjOOQ IC 



[February 29, 

scarcely one person in a hundred patronises the juice of 
the apple, showing a decided preference for John Barley- 

In our supplementary number of last month we pre- 
sented our readers with the specimen of a journal, such 
as we considered it would not only be useful but interest- 
ing for farmers and others to keep ; and although, as we 
stated, we profess to have no faith in the predictions of 
almanac-makers, our knowledge of a country life and 
rural affairs enables us to bear testimony to the utility (on 
some occasions very great) derived from a due observance 
of meteorological appearances, as well as from the move- 
ments and actions of the flocks of sheep and cattle, to 
which nature seems to have imparted a peculiar foresight 
in regard to approaching storms or changes in the weather 
generally; and indeed almost all the animal creation 
teach useful lessons to the observant and intelligent 
farmer : 

" But if observ'd the quick-revolving sun, 
And moons that duly in their order run, 
Ne'er shall to-morrow's dawn deceive thy care, 
Nor a mild night surprise thee by its snare. 
Mark Luna with collected fire return; 
If darkness warp within her clouded horn, 
A storm immense will burst upon the main, 
And farmers feel the unremitting rain." * 

Thus it was, in the days of the Roman poet, that per- 
sons employed in agricultural pursuits were in the fre- 
quent habit of consulting heavenly appearances ; and he 
energetically exclaims, 

« Who dare pronounce prophetic Sol deceives ?"t 

And again, 

u The sun both signals at his rising gave, 
And when he dipped his fire in ocean's wave; 
Signs most unerring on the sun attend, 
When morn breaks forth and stars their lustre lend ; 
When wrapped within a cloud the early sun, 
Varied with spots, and half his orb withdrawn, 
The rain expect, for Notus from the seas 
Threatens the corn, the cattle, and the trees. 

But if the sun with lucid orb appear, 
His morning bnght, his disk at evening clear ; 
In vain the showers you dread, for now are seen 
The waving woods with northern blast serene." J 

Tusser, in his work upon " Husbaudry," gives a de- 
scription of the properties of winds, and concludes with 
the ancient adage and truism — " It is an ill wind that 
blows nobody good." Of the winds during the winter 
season he says, 

" North winds send hail, south winds bring rain, 
East winds we bewail, west winds blow amain ; 
North-east is too cold, south-east not too warm, 
North-west is too bold, south-west doth no harm." 

* Feb., fill the dyke with what thou dost like 
Forgotten month past, do now at last.' : f 

In many parts of our island this is considered a more 
uncertain month than its predecessor or the one that suc- 
ceeds it; and in some parts of England the farmers have 
a somewhat different version of the character of the month 
than we find in Tusser; it runs thus : 

" February, fill dyke either with black or white, 
that is, either with floods of rain or wreaths of snow. As 
for his advice regarding work that was forgotten during 
the last month, it can scarcely be taken in a literal sense, 
for farmers do not often forget necessary and ordinary 
farm-work ; but it would rather seem to imply that now 
is the time for performing that which would better have 
been performed during the last month, had circumstances 
permitted it. Some seasons the weather is fine; and 
March dust, a peck of which in olden time was considered 

* Virg., « Georgics,' book i. 
t Virg., • Georgics,' book, i, 

♦ Virg., « Georgics/ book i. 
i Tusser. 

so valuable as to be worth a king's ransom, is occa- 
sionally to be met with during the month of February. 
The meaning of this proverb is sufficiently obvious to 
persons acquainted with agriculture; for when the wea- 
ther at this early season of the year is so dry that the soil 
becomes dust, it is an evidence that the farmer has had a 
long succession of favourable days for getting the ground 
into excellent condition for the reception of early spring 

" The dust of winter fills the corn with joy. e 
The carolling lark now begins to salute the early 
ploughman with its joyous matin song ; and the mellow 
notes of the blackbird rejoice the heart of the shepherd 
while at eventide he guides his bleating flock to some 
place of shelter and safety : — 

" Thus pass'd the time, 
Till through the lucid chambers of the south 
Look'd out the joyous spring, look'd out and smiledVl 

However, in the lowland plains, and among the more 
fertile parts of the country, with the shepherd and the 
sheep-farmer this is a peculiarly anxious time of the year, 
for it is the season when the teeming ewes bring forth 
their lambs ; and should there be snow upon the ground, 
or the nights frosty, or even should it be cold and rainy, 
unless unwearied care and attention are bestowed upon 
the ewe flocks, a considerable loss among the lambs is 
sure to take place. Even with the best management, 

" Casualties and death from damps and cold 
Will still attend the well-conducted ibid: 
Her tender offspring dead, the dam aloud 
Calls, and runs wild amidst th* unconscious crowd ; 
And orphan'd sucklings raise the piteous cry; 
No wool to warm them, no defenders nigh.* J 

It frequently happens, amongst flocks of sheep, thai 
some of the young ewes that have never produced lambs 
before, refuse to act a parent's part; in short, they desert 
their tender and helpless progeny. Such lambs, or others 
belonging to ewes that have produced twins, but have not 
sufficient nourishment to support them, are sometimes 
placed under foster-mothers, means being adopted to cheat 
them into a belief that the little strangers are their own 

Manv farmers continue to fold their ewe flocks upon 
their fallows even during the lambing season, imagining 
they gain more by thus improving the soil than any loss 
they may sustain in the death of a few lambs. But this 
is, to say the least of it, a barbarous practice ; for should 
the weather be cold and wet, those lambs that escape be- 
ing lost in the dirt and mud will continue for a consider- 
able period miserable looking objects. Besides, some of 
the ewes suffer so much pain and fatigue in yeaning, that 
they equally stand in need of a place of comparative com- 
fort and shelter from the bitter blast with their young and 
tender offspring. Farms under the improved system are 
now commonly provided with small enclosures and suit- 
able buildings adjoining for the ewes and young lambs to 
be sheltered in. 

At this particular season, therefore, the shepherd's 
cares and toils do not cease at day's decline, since it is his 
duty, if he performs it aright, to quit his humble couch 
during the midnight hours to suckle the young and 
weakest of the lambs, which are not able of themselves to 
obtain necessary nourishment from their dams ; and to 
ascertain that all are safe and in places of warmth and 
shelter. In many countries, the shepherds and their 
trusty dogs have to be on the watch the livelong night, 
and even in Britain our ancestors of oldeu times were 
exposed to the same dire necessity ; for then 
" Cruel in death, and hungry as the grave, 
Burning for blood, bony, and gaunt and thin, 

• Virgil's 'Georgics.' 
t Thompson's ' Seasons. 
I 'Farmer's Boy/ 

Digitized by 





Assembling wolves in raging troops descend, 
And pouring o'er the country, bear along, 
Keen as the north wind sweep the glossy mow, 
All is their prise." * 

Be the season mild or otherwise, as yet the pastures 
yield do supply of herbage; hence all sorts of farm-stock 
have to be fed upon the produce laid up in store for them. 
Ewes and fat sheep are now mostly fed upon hay and 
turnips; lean cattle for the most part upon straw (arable 
districts are here alluded to) ; cows yielding milk and 
cattle intended for the shamble?, upon hay and turnips, 
and occasionally oil-cakes (either of rape or linseed) ; 
and horses principally upon hay, chopped straw, oats, and 
beans. The custom of chopping straw for horses is com- 
paratively of modern date ; and although the straw-cutter 
has been found effecting so great a saving in horse-keep- 
ing, there are still many parts of the country where it is 
not used at all. Cabbages and mangel-wurzel are par- 
tially cultivated in some places as substitutes for turnips, 
particularly to feed milch cows upon; while carrots are 
not only given to cattle, sheep, and swine, but also to 
horses, which appear to relish them much. But as the 
general cultivation of carrots and cabbages will be spoken 
of in another place, we shall forbear any further remarks 
at present. 

Again we cannot refrain from referring to the con- 
tented and happy condition of the farmer ; and if we 
were asked, where we would go in quest of a picture 
where the faces of the whole assemblage of figures should 
be ruddy with health, and beaming with smiling content- 
ment, we would answer, to a market-table or ordinary 
where thirty or forty intelligent and respectable farmers 
weekly meet and dine together, and over their good and 
plentiful fare discuss the various subjects connected with 
agriculture, particularly what comes within the limits of 
the local district they may be said to 'represent. Unlike 
noisy politicians, they are not all intent upon talking at 
once, for they feel quite satisfied in receiving and im- 
parting such useful information as they may chance to 
possess. Neither do they waste hour after hour in wrang- 
ling and noisy debate, nor in abusing their health by deep 
and oft-repeated potations ; for, one hour after the removal 
of the cloth, a majority of them will have absented them- 
selves to transact some business they had left unconcluded 
before dinner, or, mounted on horseback, or in their vehi- 
cles of various descriptions, be on their way homeward, — 
home being to them a term fraught with many endearing 
associations. The class of farmers'' from which we would 
propose sketching our picture is composed, for the most 
part, of individuals whose circumstances in life place 
them above any serious misgivings about the failure of a 
tingle crop, or a fall in the market prices of farm pro- 
duce; for where men are in narrow or needy circum- 
ttances, living, from month to month, and from year to 
year, under the constant apprehension of some change 
in the times that would certainly work their utter ruin, 
their looks will undoubtedly at times betray their anxious 
feelings and fearful apprehensions. Often have we de- 
lighted to join those happy groups, in various parts of the 
country, and we do not remember ever separating our- 
aebes from their society without entertaining an increased 
reference and respect for that truly noble national cha- 
racter—an independent English farmer ; for it is to him, 
in the strictest sense, that the following passage might be 

" God has not given 
This passion tt the heart of man in vain, 
For Earth's green face, th' untainted air of Heaven 
And ail the bliss of Nature's rustic reign. 
For not alone our frame imbibes a stain 
From fetid sloes, the spirit* s healthy pride 
Fades in their gloom."t 

• Thompson's' Seasoni.' 

+ Campbell, on revisiting a Scottish rim 

We are also decidedly of opinion that farm-labourers, 
taken as a whole, are the most contented and happy, 
body of persons that earn their daily bread by the labour 
of their hands, to be met with in this country. Not 
that, in very many instances, they are better off, or even 
so well to do as some other classes of the lower orders ; 
but their ideas and associations do not lead them into 
those situations of uneasiness and excitement common to 
manufacturing populous communities. Generally, how- 
ever, they are far from being liberally treated by their 
employers, for when farm produce is at a low rate, the 
farm labourer's wages are proportionately low ; but when 
the markets advance 60 or 10 per cent, the wages of the 
labourer are rarely advanced in anything like a corre- 
sponding degree, although three-fourths of their wages 
are the products of the soil. And yet they seldom repine 
or grumble ; they have no aspirings beyond their lowly 
dependent condition, nor any wish to roam beyond the 
confined limits of their early local associations. 

Respecting farming, it cannot be carried on without 
capital, no more than any business of a commercial cha- 
racter ; for there is the stocking of the farm, paving of 
wages and rents, and many other expenses, before al- 
most any profits are derived from the soil. Were farmers 
inclined to be dishonest, their affairs seldom afford them 
the means of mystifying matters in the way we sometimes 
find attempted in trade and commerce; for when a 
farmer's funds run short, his crops, farm-stock, imple- 
ments, and furniture, commonly include the sum-total of 
his effects ; the value of which can readily be estimated 
by any one of his neighbours. And there cannot be a 
doubt that where circumstances render it a difficult mat- 
ter to deceive, that attempts at deception are proportiona- 
bly rare, and hence it probably follows, that we find 
honest so generally coupled with the term farmer. But 
few farmers set out in life with the hope or expectation 
of realising large, or, indeed, moderate fortunes ; nor do 
they look forward to retiring from business after a certain 
period, which is so generally the case with those engaged 
in commercial business. On the other hand, where com- 
mon prudence is exercised, few farmers need apprehend 
the probability of spending the evening of their days in 
want and penury. Should reverses of fortune, however, 
come, here is the excellent advice of the poet, — 

" Though Fortune smiles, and fawns upon thy side. 
Thyself extol for that no whit the more ; 
Though Fortune frowns, and wresteth all things wide, 
Let fancy stay — keep courage still in store: 
For chance may change, as chance hath done before ; 
Thus shalt thou hold more safe thine honour got, 
Or lose the less, though Fortune will or not."* 

Tusser, as we have already observed, published a 
poetical treatise, in the sixteenth century, upon farming 
and farming matters, which he calls • Five Hundred 
Points of Good Husbandry.' But he does not confine his 
work precisely to matters to be done on the farm, for he 
goes through the whole range of domestic and household 
duties incumbent on a country and pastoral life. In 
this latter department his maxims and sentiments 
prove themselves the dictates of experience, suggested by 
good sense. The following are quoted from what he 
names • Good Husbandly Lessons.' 

" As bud, hy appearing;, betok'neth the spring. 

And leaf, by her falling, the contrary thiug ; 

So youth bids us labour, to get as we can, 

For age is a burden to labouring man." 
*' A competent living, and honestly had, 

Makes such as are godly both thankfull and glad. 

Life, never contented, with honest estate, 

Lamented is oft, and repeated 'too late.** 
« Count never well gotten, what naughty is got ; 

Nor well to account of, which honest is not : 

Look long not to prosper, that weighest not this, 

Lest prospering ieileth, and aU go amiss. 

• Tasser. 

Digitized by 



[February 29, 

Of farmers we have several grades ; — first there is he 
who rents a few acres, the whole of which he tills or 
cultivates with his own hands. Then we ha?e him who 
occupies a little more than he can cultivate himself, and 
hence he is occasionally under the necessity of employing 
a labourer or two ; but when he does so, he himself takes 
the lead in whatever sort of work has to be performed. 
These may properly be called working farmers ; and in 
all those districts where the land is principally owned by 
small proprietors, — and where estates are much inter- 
mingled, — these two varieties constitute the most numer- 
ous class of farmers ; for even where the owners of small 
freeholds reside upon the farms themselves, they find it 
necessary to labour, if they would steer clear of debt and 
difficulties. Next we have a class of farmers who su- 
perintend, for the most part, the labour of others ; but 
who occasionally lend a helping hand when something 
particular has to be executed, or when there is a scarcity 
of hands to complete some job of work in due season. 
For the most part this class is composed of the sons of 
respectable farmers, who, during their youth, had been 
taught to take an active part in farming affairs ; and who, 
therefore, occasionally consider it no hardship nor degra- 
dation to practise their early habits. Farmers of this 
description usually rent farms of 100/. or 200/. a year. 
Then we have a class that rent farms of double the 
amount, who never condescend, on any occasion, to lend 
a helping hand ; their whole employment consisting in 
overlooking others, in attending markets, and in ascer- 
taining that everything is duly and properly executed. 
Next we have a still more wealthy and independent class, 
generally called gentlemen farmers, composed of persons of 
considerable property, who either rent very large farms, or 
farm pretty extensively upon their own property. Many 
individuals of this class do not condescend to look after 
the common drudgery concerns of farming, employing 
bailiffs or head-men to superintend under them, but who 
consult their superiors upon all the principal affairs of 
the farm that from time to time present themselves. 
There is yet another class, but they can hardly be con- 
sidered as coming under the general head of farmers ; 
we refer to noblemen and gentlemen of independent for- 
tune, many of whom feel a deep interest in agricultural 
affairs, and who have greatly assisted in advancing it as 
a science. These, however, do not make farming a busi- 
ness, but resort to it for sober and pleasant recreation ; and 
where, it may be asked, would they be so likely to have 
their wishes gratified? 

The origin of a class of tenant-farmers in any country 
marks a period of the utmost importance in its history. 
When this change occurs, the composition of society be- 
comes more complicated, and new combinations and inte- 
rests are developed, such in fact as exist in England at 
the present day. But previously the owners and cultiva- 
tors of the soil formed the two great divisions of the 
community, and artisans were comparatively few in 
number and comprised only those engaged in the most 
necessary arts ; for the absence of wealth— of capital or 
accumulated resources — lies at the foundation of this 
state of things. The landowner is not rich enough to 
advance funds for the support of the labourer, nor does 
there exist any other class who are enabled to do so ; and 
the labourer therefore extracts his wages directly from the 
soil, working a part of his time on land for the use 
of which he is engaged to work the remainder of 
his time for his lord. This is the present condition of 
agricultural industry in Russia. But when the results 
of labour have accumulated, and capital has become 
abundant, persons possessing a share of this accumulated 
stock engage in the cultivation of land, and they are rich 
enough to advance the labourer's wages in money, while 
a condition of this change is, that there exists a surplus 
which accrues to the landowner as rent, and he may now 
live upon this revenue without personally directing the 

labours of the cultivator. ~ The increase of wealth is trie 
sole cause of this alteration, though the process by wliich 
the peasant is detached from the soil and becomes a free 
labourer, and the direction of agricultural industry is 
changed and passes into the hands of a class of capital- 
ists or tenant-farmers, is in some respects a painful tran- 
sition. In England this change was wrought out between 
the reigns of Henry VII. and Elizabeth. As this era is 
one of so much importance in our social history and in 
the history of agriculture, we are induced to devote more 
space to it now than, in busier months of agricultural 
labour, it would be in our power to afford. The reign of 
Henry VII. commenced in 1485, and Elizabeth's closed 
in 1603, a space of 118 years. The following review of 
the changes to which we have alluded as occurring within 
this period is from the ' Pictorial History of England :* — 
At the beginning of the period, the yeomanry usually 
lived in a dwelling of timber, the walls of which were 
formed of wattled plaster. It had not always a chimney, 
and contained few conveniences. They slept on straw 
pallets, covered with a sheet and coarse coverlet, or per- 
haps upon a flock mattress and a bolster of chaff. Their 
servants slept upon straw, and had not always a coverlet 
to throw over them. All dined off wooden trenchers and 
ate their pottage with a spoon of the same material. 
Even a substantial yeoman did not possess more than 
four or five pieces of pewter plate, and the sum of money 
which he could raise was insignificant. Harrison says, 
that if a farmer or husbandman, in his cups at the ale- 
house, could pull out a purse containing six shillings, an 
equal sum could not perhaps be raised by the whole of 
his companions, who were of the same rank as himself. 
Only the gentry could afford to eat wheaten bread the 
year through. The servants and the poorer class of 
people ate bread made of barley or rye ; and in dear 
yeare their bread was made of beans, peas, or oats, or 
perhaps of all these together. In periods of still greater 
scarcity, artificers and labouring men had no better nou- 
rishment than such as tares and lentils supplied. Hence 
the proverb of those times, that " hunger setteth his first 
foot into the horse- manger." For clothing, the rustic 
housewife spun, from the wool and flax produced on the 
farm, sufficient cloth and linen of coarse texture for the 
use of the family, though Fitzherbert, to whom we owe 
the first English work on husbandly, writing in 1522, 
even in that day acknowledges that it was not profitable 
for a woman wholly to devote herself to the distaff; but, 
as he remarks, " it stoppeth up a gap, and must needs be 
had." According to this old writer, the farmers' wives 
must have been patterns of diligence and industry, and a 
variety of duties devolved upon them which have since 
ceased to be required, or have fallen with more propriety 
upon the other sex. They had to measure out the quan- 
tity of corn to be ground, and see that it was sent to the 
miller. The poultry, swine, and cows were under their 
charge ; and they superintended the brewing and baking. 
The garden was peculiarly the care of the farmer's wife. 
She had to depend upon it for various herbs which are no 
longer in use, but which could not be dispensed with 
when spices were rare and costly. Besides pot-herbs, 
strewing-herbs were required for the chambers, and herbs 
possessing medical virtues. The list of fruits at this 
date was confined to a few of indigenous growth, which 
were but little improved by skill and management. 
Tusser directs his housewife to transplant into her garden 
wild strawberries from the woods. All the writers on 
rural economy during this period recommend the farmer's 
wife carefully to attend to her crop of flax and hemp. 
When, however, Fitzherbert asserts that it is a wife's 
duty " to winnow all manner of corn, to make malt, to 
wash, and to make hay, shear corn, and, in time of need, 
help her husband to fill the muck-wain or dung-cart, 
drive the plough, to load hay, corn, and such other, to go 
to market and sell butter or pigs, fowls or corn," it is to 

Digitized by 





be presumed that he had in his view the smallest class of 
yeomen, who had no hired servants. 

Such were the general circumstances of the life and con- 
dition of the country population during the first years of 
this period. Harrison asserts that, notwithstanding their 
frugality (" if," as he shrewdly observes, " it may be so 
justly called "), " they were scarce able to live and pay 
their rents at their days without selling of a cow or a 
horse, or more, although they paid but 4/. at the utter- 
most bv the year." This want of money for the pay- 
ment of their rents, however, was probably their greatest 
want They seem to have enjoyed the principal necessa- 
ries of life in rude abundance ; and on the whole, when 
we know that at the end of the fifteenth century land was 
generally underlet, and when the mode of life which pre- 
vailed is taken into consideration, we cannot but presume 
that the yeomanry were not so badly off as Harrison de- 
scribes them. The farmer of these times himself con- 
sumed the chief part of the produce which he raised, his 
servants taking their seats at his table. Luxuries were 
unknown, and the principal materials for clothing were 
not bought, but were obtained by the industry of each 
family. The instruments of agriculture were so simple, 
that many of them were made, or at least kept in repair, 
by the farmer himself. Every yeoman was expected to 
know how to make yokes, ox-bows, and plough-gear. 
Such work afforded profitable employment in the winter 
erenings ; and, if nothing of the kind needed to be done, 
the alternative recommended by Fitzherbert was, to go to 
bed, in order that fire and candle might be saved. Con- 
siderably later, in Tusser's time, sole-leather was kept in 
farm-houses, with which shoes might be mended as occa- 
sion required ; and, looking generally at the circum- 
stances of the rural population, it may easily be seen 
that the causes which render agriculture purely commer- 
cial in all its objects were not very strongly developed. 

After the commencement of the reign of Henry VII. 
and before the general rise in rents which took place in 
the succeeding reign, England must, on the whole, have 
presented more of such pictures as that which Latimer 
has drawn, in one of his sermons, of the condition of his 
father, than of such as resembled the description Harrison 
gives of the difficulties, bordering upon wretchedness, of 
the yeomen to whom he has alluded. Latimer's father 
was a yeoman, but had no land of his own. The rent of 
his farm was under 41. a year, yet he had as much land 
under tillage as kept half a dozen men and a hundred 
sheep and thirty cows. He found a horse and man for 
the king's service when called upon. His son he sent to 
school, and afterwards to college ; and on the marriage of 
his daughters, he gave 5/. to each as a dower. He was 
hesides hospitable to his neighbours, and gave alms to 
the poor ; ** and all this," Latimer asserts, "he did from 
the said farm." But soon after the commencement of 
the reign of Henry VIII. the indications of approaching 
social changes begin to appear, and in the time of his 
son and successor, we find the farmer in new circum- 
stances. Latimer tells us, that now the person that had 
his father*! farm paid for it 16/. by the year, or more, 
and was not able u to do anything for hia prince, for 
himself, nor for his children, nor to give a cup of drink to 
the poor." Generally, he says, in the course of a few 
years, rents had increased from 20/. to 50/., or more 
than doubled. The farm on which a yeoman of small 
means could live when the money-payments for rent and 
labour were inconsiderable, therefore became insufficient 
to maintain him, " Hence," says Ascham, u so many 
families dispersed — so many houses ruined. Hence the 
honour and strength of England, the noble yeomanry, 
we broken up and destroyed." The numerous enclo- 
sures which now took place rendered the case of the 
veoman- cottager hopeless, unless he became a day- 
labourer. Latimer, in his sermons, loudly denounced 
the changes which were taking place. Hia views were 

those of a benevolent man, and they were extremely 
popular, but there had not been wanting others who 
pointed out with great clearness the advantages of enclo- 
sures. Fitzherbert shows how a township that is worth 
twenty marks a year may be worth 20/ , and the ground- 
work of his plan is to enclose the land. " By enclosing," 
he says, " a farmer shall save meat, drink, and wages of 
a shepherd ; the wages of the swineherd, the which may 
fortune to be as chargeable as his whole rent ; and also his 
corn shall be better saved from eating or destroying by 
cattle." To the objection that many men would lose 
their ordinary means of maintaining themselves, he re- 
plies : — " There be many new occupations that were not 
used before, as setting of quickset, ditching, hedging, 
and plashing." In another work, written sixty years 
afterwards, it is expressly stated that " the counties where 
most enclosures be are most wealthy, as Essex, Kent, 
and Northamptonshire, &c." It happened also at this time 
that, while some of the old landowners had been com- 
pelled to sell portions of their estates, persons who had 
enriched themselves in trade became the purchasers, and 
settled upon their property, looking upon the business of 
farming with a commercial eye. King Edward, in his 
Journal, sneers at these " clothing knights," and observes, 
" this country can bear no merchant to have more land 
than 100/. a year." Edward notices, in his Journal, 
some of the most striking symptoms of the state of tran- 
sition through which the country was now passing. 
Speaking of the gentry, he says, " their house-keeping is 
dearer ; their meat is dearer; their liveries dearer ; their 
wages greater." And he adds, "merchants have en- 
hanced their ware ; farmers have enhanced their corn 
and cattle ; labourers, their wages ; artificers, the price of 
their workmanship ; and mariners and boatsmen, their hire 
for service." 

Another change which greatly affected the condition of 
the agricultural population was, the extensive conversion 
that now took place of tilluge into pasturage. It was a 
popular saying, that " it was never merry with poor crafts- 
men since gentlemen became graziers." These gentle- 
men graziers also, instead of residing upon their estates 
in the country like their forefathers, are stated to have 
very generally betaken themselves to court or to town, 
and there lived, in the best way they could, upon the pro- 
duce of their sales of wool and cattle. But the gentry 
were compelled to this step through the insufficiency of 
their revenues to defray their former bountiful mode of 
living. " Some," was the popular complaint, " get them 
chambers in London or about the court, and there spend 
their time, some of them with a servant or two, where he 
was wont to keep thirty or forty persons daily in his 
house." The legislature vainly endeavoured to arrest the 
progress of these changes, which were taking place in the 
occupation of the land. They passed acts to prevent the 
engrossing of farms into few hands ; to restrict the num- 
ber of sheep kept by one grazier ; to keep land in tillage 
and farm-houses in repair. In 1588 penalties were im- 
posed upon the building of cottages for the agricultural 
population without having four acres of land attached to 
each, or allowing more than a single family to live in one 
cottage. Many poor people, it is stated, had become " wan- 
derers, idle, and loose." The act of 43 Eliz., for the relief 
of the poor, was the great attempt to cure these evils. As 
to the statutes relative to keeping land in tillage, and for 
the maintenance of houses of husbandry, Hume is of 
opinion, from the frequency with which they were enacted, 
that they were never executed. 

But, however painful were some of the immediate 
effects of these changes, their operation, on the whole, was 
highly beneficial to many important interests, especially 
to agriculture. Harrison states that the soil had become 
more fruitful than in times past, and assigns as the cause, 
that " our countrymen are grown to be more painful, 
skilful, and careful, through recompense of gain, than 

Digitized by 





heretofore they have been." One acre produced now as 
much as two did formerly. Norden, who wrote towards 
the close of the period, speaks of the additional attention 
paid by husbandmen to the manuring of their lands. 
The average yield of corn in Harrison's time was, on each 
acre well tilled and dressed, twenty bushels of wheat, 
thirty-two of barley, and forty of oats and pulse. The 
breed of live-stock partook ot the general improvement. 
Cattle, from having been so scarce as to call for various 
statutes to prevent the killing of weanlings, were now in 
great abundance. Harrison asks, with some exultation, 
" Where are oxen commonly more large of bone, horses 
more decent and pleasant in pace, sheep more profitable 
in wool, swine more wholesome of flesh, and goats more 
gainful to their keepers, than here with us ?" The people, 
on the whole, appear to have been gainers by the altera- 
tions which had been effected ; and in many respects the 
change was from a desultory and idle life to a course of 
diligence and industry. They consumed a good deal of 
flesh-meat, and were fond of entertaining each other with 
good cheer. Harrison says that lard was not much used, 
" sith we do baste all our meat with butter, or suffer the 
fattest to baste itself by leisure." Such are the vaunting 
terms in which this old writer speaks of the diet of the 
people after the middle of the sixteenth century. 

llut it was not only in the diet of the agricultural popu- 
lation that, by the close of this period, improvements had 
taken place ; a decided advance in comfort was also ap- 
parent in their habitations and furniture. The houses 
began generally to be built of brick or stone ; the rooms 
were more airy and capacious, and the outbuildings far- 
ther removed from the dwelling. In proof of their easy 
circumstances, the farmers could point to some article* 

of silver plate in their cupboards ; to the pewter plates 
which had superseded their wooden trenchers ; and the 
coarse mattress and bolster were replaced by good feather- 
beds. The substantial yeoman, betides being surrounded 
by additional comforts, had often several years' rent in 
hand. Some of these changes are lamented by Harrison, 
who remarks that when the walls of houses were of wattled 
willow we had oaken men, but that they were become 
effeminate with the increase of luxury — a complaint which 
has been made in every age of that which preceded it. 
The rotation of crops usually followed during this 
period indicated but little advancement in the art of agri- 
culture. After a crop of wheat or rye, they sowed barley 
or oats in the spring, and then came a fallow. Clover 
was, however, introduced in the reign of Elizabeth from 
the Netherlands. Its great value consisted in supplying 
green food where natural pastures were scarce; in en- 
abling the farmer to keep more cattle, and consequently 
to apply a greater quantity of manure to his land. It 
could not effect that improvement which was accomplished 
at a later period by the introduction of the turnip ; but 
it was of unquestionable value in hastening the adoption 
of a better system than that which had heretofore pre- 
vailed. The high rent of meadow land during the former 
and present periods, beyond all proportion to that of 
arable, is a proof of the advantage which would ensue 
from the cultivation of clover. Ewes were milked ; and 
Tusser mentions that five ewes were reckoned equal in 
value to a cow. A sow was also considered of the same 
value as a cow. These two facts show the inferior state 
of agriculture; both being occasioned by the difficulty 
of procuring winter food. 


Day of 



I Su 



4 W 




8 Su 

9 M 

10 Tu 

11 VV 

12 Th 

13 F 

14 S 

15 Su 

16 M 

17 Tu 

18 VV 

19 Th 

20 F 

21 S 

22 5* 

23 M 

24 Tu 

25 W 

26 Th 

27 F 

28 S 

29 Sm 

30 M 

31 Tu 

of the 

Sunday* and 
Remarkable Days. 

Quinquageeima Sun. St. 
Shrove Tueedau. 
Ath Wednesday. 
Mohara. year 1256 beg. 

1 Sunday in Lent. 

EnuW Week. 

• • • 

• • • 

2 Sunday in Lent, 
St Patrick." 

Spring Quarter begins. 

3 Sunday in Lent. 

• . • 

LADY D. Ann. B.F.M. 


'4 Sunday in Lent. Mid. 
Lent Sunday. 

h. m. 
6 47 
6 45 
6 43 
6 41 
6 38 
6 36 
6 34 

6 32 
6 HO 
6 27 
6 25 
6 23 
6 21 
6 18 
6 16 
6 14 
6 11 
6 9 
6 7 
6 5 

Eq. Time. 

Clock bet 

5 42 
5 40 


m. a. 
12 34 
12 21 
11 42 
11 28 
11 13 

10 58 

10 43 

10 27 

10 11 

9 55 

9 38 

9 21 

9 4 

8 46 

8 23 

4 48 
4 30 
4 11 



5 39 
5 41 
5 42 
5 44 
5 46 
5 48 
5 49 



6 3 
6 5 
6 6 
6 8 
6 10 
6 12 
6 13 

6 18 
6 20 
6 22 
6 23 
6 25 
6 27 
6 28 
6 30 


10 3 






h. m. 
6 17 
6 32 
6 45 

6 57 

7 10 
7 24 

7 43 

8 9 

8 47 

9 42 
10 53 

1 40 



10 38 

11 52 

1 2 

2 4 

2 53 

3 32 

4 20 
4 36 
4 50 


h. m 
3 40 

5 3 

6 26 

7 50 
9 16 

10 45 



1 43 

2 58 

3 55 

4 35 

5 3 

5 22 
5 36 
5 49 

5 59 

6 11 
6 22 
6 35 

6 52 

7 15 

7 47 

8 30 

9 27 

10 36 

11 52 


2 34 

3 57 




Barometer. Ins. 
Mean height 29-843 
Highest . 30*770 
Lowest . 28-870 

Mean dew-point 
Highest • 
Mean dryness 
Mean greatest do. 

of day 
Greatest dryness 
Mean temperature 43*9 
Highest . 66 

Lowest . 24 

Mean great, of Sun 16 
Greatest power 49 
Mean cold of terrest. 5*5 
Greatest ditto 10 


Mean qty. of rain 1*440 
Meanofevap. 1488 
Table of the /Find*. 

. Days. Dew-P. 

Mar. morkiho. 

1 Qnin. Sun. Gen. 9tov.20.Lu 12 

4 Ash Wed. Deu.21 „ 15 

81StUnLentGeu.19tov.30. „ la 
15 2 M „ # Joh £ 

223 ,. M 39 m % 

29 4 .. .. 43 „ " 

Mar. 1 Gen. 12...Ephec 6 
M 4Deut. 22... Philip. 3 
.. 8 Gen. 22...Coloe. 3 
„ 16 „ 34... 2 The*. 1 
-22 » 42... 1 Tim. 6 
m 29 „ 45...Philem. 

New ... 4th day. 4h. 5m. inn. 
Firet Quart. 10th day, Ilk 8m. avft 
Full. . . 18th day. 
Last Quart. 26th day. 6b. 


















So O 

CO — o* CO i— v»„ 

Jt £t Jk CO CO CO F 
0> O O O V| V| jj 

CO *» lU *t £t ,U p* 

OB 00** •** vi-^p* 

to u» c».u CO 




©> CT» O Oi O* Ot 
tC £l V »*4 00 <£ 


V The Offiee of the Society tor the Diffusion of Uaefhl Knowledge la at 69. Lincoln*! Inn Ffelda. 
Printed by Wxluam down and Soxa, SUrnfccd Street, 

Digitized by 




Society for tbe Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. 



[March 7, 1840* 



Macao, a town on an island of the same name at the en* 
trance of the river of Canton, is the only settlement which 
Europeans possess within the dominions of the emperor 
of China. It was founded by the Portuguese, and still 
continues in their hands ; but since other nations have 
participated in the commerce of the Indies, Macao has 
fallen somewhat into decay. In 1725 the Chinese re- 
stricted the shipping to twenty-five vessels, and it has 
since fallen to about one-half this number. For nearly 
a century the Portuguese monopolised the trade of the 
East. De Gama, the discoverer of the passage by the 
Cape of Good Hope, landed on the coast of Malabar in 
1498: in 1511 the Portuguese had begun to explore the 
Indian Archipelago; in 1525 they made themselves 
masters of Malacca, and soon afterwards achieved the 
conquest of the Moluccas. Their first attempt to open a 
trade with the Chinese was not successful ; but with a 
pertinacity and resolution not to be overcome by ordinary 
obstacles, they persevered in their object, and were finally 
successful. Aoout the year 1537 the Chinese only 
allowed them a temporary shelter upon the island of 
Macao : by bribery and solicitation they next obtained 
leave to erect sheds for drying goods ; and about the 
middle of the century they began to be recognised as 
having some title to occupation ; but it was only gradu- 
ally that they were permitted to build stone houses and 
to form a considerable town. In 1542 the Portuguese 
had succeeded in establishing a commercial intercourse 
with Japan, which continued until 1638. Macao was 
the centre of the trade with China, Japan, and the eastern 
Vol. IX. 

islands, and the cause of its importance at the above 
periods is therefore easily traced. 

The Chinese are too cautious and jealous a people to 
concede valuable privileges without reserving the right 
of reclaiming them. The Portuguese, therefore, are not 
in possession of the sovereignty of Macao, but pay au 
annual ground-rent, and their forts are periodically in- 
spected by military mandarins. A civil mandarin also 
resides in the town as the representative of the emperor 
of China, and the Chinese population is entirely under 
his government. The only rights which the Portuguese 
of Macao really possess are those of a municipal character. 
Indeed they are occasionally made to feel that neither no- 
minally nor actually are they masters. Milburn states, 
in his ' Oriental Commerce,' that " the Chinese treat the 
Portuguese very cavalierly on many occasions, exacting 
duties sometimes in the port, and punishing individuals 
for crimes committed against the natives ; and whenever 
resistance is attempted against such proceedings, the 
mandarin who commands the Chinese at the guard-house 
immediately stops the supply of provisions from their 
market until they quietly submit." This means of coercion 
may very easily be put into execution, for Macao is built 
on a low sandy promontory, connected with the remainder 
of the island by a long narrow neck of land ; and at a 
place where the width of the latter is about a hundred 
yards, a wall has been built, which stretches across and 
projects at each end into the water. In the centre of the 
wall there is a gateway, and close to it the guard-house 
for the Chinese soldiers. This wall was erected in 1573, 

Digitized by 






and it circumscribes the space to which the Portuguese 
are confined to a spot about three miles long by one wide. 
Beyond this boundary they are not often allowed to pass ; 
and this imprisonment is but little more endurable than 
that to which the inmates of the European factories at 
Canton are compelled to submit. The Portuguese po- 
pulation of Macao, including slaves, does not exceed 5000, 
while the Chinese are estimated at 30,000. The towu 
is defended by several strong forts, mounted with heavy 
cannon, and garrisoned by a small number of Portuguese 
soldiers, seldom exceeding 250, who are under the com- 
mand of the Portuguese governor. The Portuguese have 
a custom-house; and the English and other European 
nations have factories at Macao. As an outpost of the 
most singular empire in the world, Macao is at present 
of more value than as a commercial emporium. 

About thirty miles above Macao is the rocky island of 
Lintin, where ships of war anchor, as the Chinese do not 
allow them to proceed nearer Canton. The Bocca* Tigris 
is the entrance of the river of Canton, and is so called from 
the appearance of one of the islands situated at its mouth. 
Whampoa, where the merchant-ships anchor, is about 
fifteen miles north of Lintin, and ten miles below the 
foreign factories at Canton, with which place the inter- 
course is carried on by boats. We notice these points 
because recent circumstances have directed public atten- 
tion to this Quarter ; and at the present moment our 
commercial intercourse with the Chinese is entirely sus- 
pended. The reader will perhaps feel interested in a 
brief statement of the facts out of which this state of 
things has arisen. 

Within the last forty or fifty years the consumption of 
Indian opium in China has risen from 1000 to 27,000 
chests,t and this drug has formed an article of export 
from India to China exceeding in value all the tea which 
China has supplied for our own consumption and for ex- 
portation to our colonies and to foreign countries. This 
important trade has unhappily been long carried on in 
defiance of the regulations of the Chinese authorities, 
opium having been made contraband about the close of 
the last century. The trade was at that time chiefly 
carried on at Macao; but in 1802 the English mer- 
chants removed it to the island of Lintin, which has since 
been the great opium depot. Here it is kept stored in 
armed ships, and is delivered to the Chinese by written 
orders from Canton. The nature of the transaction is 
thus described by a Chinese writer : — " At Canton," he 
says, " there are brokers of the drug, who are called 
melters. These pay the price of the drug into the hands 
of the resident foreigners, who give them orders for the 
delivery of the opium from the receiving-ships. There 
are carrying-boats plying up and down the river, and 
these are vulgarly called ' fast crabs ' and ' scrambling 
dragons.' They are well armed, and are manned with 
some scores of desperadoes, who ply their oars as if they 
were wings to fly with. All the custom-houses and mili- 
tary forts which they pass are largely bribed. If they 
happen to encounter one of the armed cruising-boats, they 
are so audacious as to resist, and slaughter and carnage 

The taste for opium which prevails in China, combined 
with the unparalleled corruption of the authorities, has 
rendered the execution of prohibitory regulations totally 
impossible. All classes join in forgetting their existence. 
Four or five years ago, one of the Chinese censors ad- 
dressed a memorial to the emperor, in which he stated 
that " magistrates of districts issue proclamations inter- 
dicting the clandestine sale of opium, at the same time 
that their kindred and clerks and servants smoke it as 

^ • Bocca, the Italian word for ' mouth,* is used, either in the 
singular, or in the plural, * bocche,' to designate the mouths of 
rivers or the narrow straits leading into a bay. The Spaniards 
spell the word * Boco,' and the Portuguese ' Bocca,' 
f Each chest weighs 150 lbs. 

before. The police, influenced by the people in the 
public offices, become the secret purchasers of opium, in- 
stead of labouring for its suppression ; and thus all 
interdicts and regulations become vain." This is per- 
fectly true ; and a contraband trade of the annual value 
of above 3,000,000/. sterling having grown up in spite of 
frequent edicts for its suppression, is another proof of the 
difficulty of enforcing regulations which are strongly *t 
variance with the tastes and desires of a large portion of 
any community. 

The practice of opium-smoking appears to have de- 
scended from the richer to the poorer classes, and to have 
extended with astonishing rapidity. In 1833 the emperor 
made a renewed attempt to repress or destroy the habit ; 
and in the edict issued for this purpose it is said — ** Let 
the buyers and smokers of opium be punished with one 
hundred blows, and pilloried for two months. Then let 
them declare the seller's name ; and in default of this 
declaration, let the smoker be punished, as an accomplice 
of the seller, with a hundred blows and three years' im- 
prisonment. Let mandarins and their dependants who* 
buy and smoke opium be punished one degree more 
severely than others ; and let governors and lieutenant- 
governors of provinces, as well as the magistrates of sub- 
ordinate districts, be required to give security that there 
are no opium-smokers in their respective districts." In 
1836 an officer of the Chinese government proposed that 
opium should be admitted on payment of a duty ; but 
this intelligent proposition does not appear to have been 
favourably received, and the smuggling went on as before, 
all classes joining in conniving at the illicit traffic. 

In March, 1839, the Chinese government appear to 
have taken more decided steps than any which nad yet 
been adopted to prevent the introduction of opium, and 
under the direction of an imperial commissioner from 
Pekin, the British residents were shut up in their factory, 
and only obtained their release on condition of giving up 
the stock of opium on board the ships, amounting to 
20,283 chests, worth nearly 3,000,000/. sterling, the Su- 
perintendent of British Trade giving the owners indem- 
nity scrips. The contents of every chest were subse- 
quently emptied into sluices communicating with the 
river, in the presence of the Chinese authorities, and many 
of the residents of the British and other factories who 
were invited to attend. Men were employed from day 
to day in hastening the process of maceration until the 
opium had become muddy and fetid, when the whole of 
it was washed into the river. After this the merchants 
withdrew to Macao, whence they were expelled by the 
Chinese on the 21th of August, in consequence of refusing 
to give up a seaman who had killed a Chinese in a brawl. 
They then retired to their ships at Hong-Kong ; but the 
fleet being in want of provisions, the Superintendent of 
British Trade, on the 4th of September, endeavoured to 
obtain a supply from the natives, but was opposed by the 
Chinese war-junks; and in the conflict which ensued, 
several Chinese were killed and some Europeans wounded. 
A fresh attack upon the Chinese, which was to have been 
made the following day, was countermanded. On the 
I lth of September the Superintendent notified a blockade 
of Canton river and port; but on the 16th the blockade 
was abandoned, in consequence, it is said, of negotiations 
having been commenced with the Chinese. Proceedings of 
a still more serious nature have taken place subsequently ; 
and these events have greatly complicated the state of our 
relations with China. In the speech from the throne, on the 
opening of parliament, on the 16th of January last, the in- 
terruption of our commercial intercourse with that country 
was formally announced ; and a naval force has just been 
despatched for the purpose of aiding, by a warlike demon- 
stration, the negotiations which may be required to settle 
these serious difficulties. In the meantime the sales of 
opium are advertised at Calcutta as usual; and the 
general opinion is that it will be found impassible to 

Digitized by 





prevent the introduction of the article into China by any 
plan however rigorous ; for the individuals who should 
put the prohibitory law in execution, conspire to evade 
it ; and, generally speaking, are so low in moral charac- 
ter, as to prefer their interest to their duty. 

In England opium is almost entirely employed as a 
medicine. In Lincolnshire it is said to be taken for its 
intoxicating properties, the practice having originated in 
its use as a remedy for the ague. The assertion that 
opium is taken with the same object in the manufacturing 
districts of Lancashire cannot be traced to any authentic 
source, and we do not believe that the abuse of the drug 
is prevalent in those parts. Neither opium nor any of 
the preparations in which it is a chief ingredient ought 
to be used except under the direction of medical men. 
It appears from a Return made to the House of Commons 
in 1839, that out of 543 persons in England and Wales 
who died from the effects of uoison in 1837 and 1838, 
and on whom inquests were neld, the fatality was occa- 
sioned in 186 cases by opium or its preparations ; and 
nearly one-seventh of the whole number of cases (72) 
were young children, most of them under one year, 
to 52 of whom an overdose of opium, or laudanum, or 
some cordial in which opium is used, had been given ; 
and in 20 other cases the children had been poisoned by 
taking such medicines in mistake. In this Return the 
coroner of Nottingham stated that at a druggist's shop 
in that town, in which the attendants were two girls, 
one of them was in the habit of selling twice as much 
laudanum for a penny as the other. The use of cordials 
and made-up quack medicines for children is not only 
pernicious, but highly dangerous; and none but the 
careless, the indolent, or the ignorant resort to them. 


[From a CorretpoDdent.] 

Shap, anciently written Hep or Heppe, is a long strag- 
gling village on the great road (sometimes called the 
west north-road) leading from Liverpool and Manchester 
to Carlisle, and thence to Edinburgh or Glasgow. It is 
sixteen miles north of Kendal, and thirty south of Car- 
lisle. Shap Fells, a mountainous district lying between 
this village and the town of Kendal, is considered one of 
the moat bleak and dreary regions that is traversed by 
the principal roads in the kingdom. It is generally be- 
lieved that the change of name from Hep or Heppe to 
Shap has originated with the inhabitants pronouncing the 
fruit of the briar and the dog-rose, the hip or hep — choup : 
hence the easy transition to Shap, the present name of 
the village. Judging from present appearances, however, 
some objection might be started against this mode of 
arriving at its present name, since the surrounding 
country is remarkably bare and destitute of all sorts of 
wood ; but on referring to ancient records connected with 
lands in this vicinity, we find that some centuries ago 
much of the surrounding country consisted of woods and 
forests, of which, however, at the present day, not the 
•lightest vestige remains, except on a lofty eminence 
about two miles south by east of this village, known as 
Soap Thorn, where there is a small clump of aged haw- 
thorns, evidently at one period surrounded by a wall, and 
planted there as a landmark when the roads through 
these desolate regions were mere tracks and but little fre- 

It is now nearly thirty years ago since one of the few 
remaining temples or monuments of the ancient Druids 
ceased to exist, save in the chronicled pages of a few local 
*nd antiquarian writers, and in the memories of the pre- 
sent generation of inhabitants of the surrounding district, 
*nd of those strangers that business or curiosity may have 
attracted to those parts ; for when the waste or common 
l&nds were enclosed by act of parliament about the time j 

above stated, most of the stones of which this remarkable 
monumental curiosity was composed were blown into 
fragments by the power of gunpowder, and employed by 
the inhabitants in erecting rude stone fences. So that 
the stranger who reads the history of Westmoreland, or 
any other that treats of this Druidical monument, and is 
thereby induced to visit the scene, would experience 
nothing but disappointment when some rude hind pointed 
out to him where iC the girt (large) staynes yance 
stuyd." , 

This monument was situated a little to the south of 
the village, and consisted of two irregular rows of huge 
unshapely stones, though differing very materially in 
si2e, for the largest were ten or eleven feet high, and of 
nearly the same thickness, while the smaller ones were 
not half these dimensions. The two rows were not quite 
parallel, the distance apart varying from twenty to some- 
thing over thirty yards ; while the distance between the 
stones for the most part was ten or twelve yards; the 
entire length of the rows being a little more than half a 
mile. The present turnpike road passed at a short dis- 
tance on the west side of these rows of stones. At the 
upper end of this remarkable parallelogram there was a 
rude circle of middling-sized stones, in all probability 
the place of sacrifice used by those ancient priests the 
Druids. The quality of these stones is a species of gra- 
nite, reddish, and full of large white shining specks of 
spar-like appearance. When polished, some of them are 
veined, and have an ornamental appearance. There is 
no regularity in their shape, and few of them present 
sharp angles ; indeed for the most part they seem from 
their rounded forms to have been long subjected to the 
action of water. This species of stone is called by the 
country-people thunder-stone, but upon what authority 
seems a matter of much doubt. I have heard the inha- 
bitants assign two reasons— one, that the stones have 
fallen from the clouds during thunder-storms ; and the 
other, in consequence of their giving out sparks of fire 
when struck against each other, at the same time emitting 
a faint smell of sulphur. But in fact the great majority 
of the people would not be able to assign any reason for 
so singular a name, not troubling themselves to inquire 
into the origin of names. 

This species of stone is very scarce in that part of the 
country ; indeed, where these stones are found at all, 
they are mostly found singly, and at great distances from 
each other ; and from an intimate acquaintance with the 
whole neighbourhood, I feel quite sure that the Druid 
stones could not be replaced from a surrounding district 
of very considerable extent. From whence they were 
brought to the situations they so long occupied, I have 
never even heard conjectured ; that no human means 
were used to place them in their relative positions would 
be an opinion too wild to be hazarded. Then there 
arises a question of the means employed to convey such 
ponderous masses as many of them were ; for even in our 
own enlightened generation, how should we manage to 
convey blocks of stone weighing one hundred tons to any 
great distance through a rough and broken country ? 

Probably at the time these stones were first placed 
here their order may have presented a greater degree of 
regularity and uniformity than was the case during the 
past generation or two, for it is a well-ascertained fact 
that mill-stones were formerly cut out of some of the 
Druid stones, and in this way it is not improbable that 
several of them might have been moved from their ori- 
ginal positions, while others might have totally disap- 

Somewhere about eighty years ago a spa, or mineral 
Spring, was discovered three miles south by east of the 
village of Shap, which has of late years become a place 
of considerable resort. This small spring issues from 
the upper part of a rocky bank near a mountain-stream, 
which, about four miles below, empties itself into the river 


Digitized by 




[Ma&ch 7, 

Lane. The water of this spring is strongly impregnated 
•with sulphur, besides containing other medicinal proper- 
ties, and has been found highly beneficial in certain dis- 
orders, particularly those of a scorbutic nature. Not- 
withstanding the surrounding district is an almost 
unbroken bleak and dreary moorland, two or three small 
enclosures immediately adjoining the spring, and on 
which there is a small farm-house, form a slight contrast 
to the extensive heath-clad region. For a considerable 
period Shap-well water, as it was called, was only tried 
internally, that is, it was drank by such persons as deemed 
it worth their while to visit the spring at its well-head, 
some of whom would carry a portion of it off in large 
stone bottles to their distant homes. There was no charge 
— no interdiction ; then this water had not been made a 
source of profit either to the owner of the property or the 
tenant that rented the small farm. A licence to sell ale 
at length was procured, so that the visitors to Shap Wells 
might be accommodated with bread and cheese, and a 
little indifferent ale to wash it down. This was consi- 
dered a vast improvement upon the whole system ; for 
where the visitors had a long way to trudge to their 
homes, it obviated the necessity of carrying victuals along 
with them. By-and-bye a spare bed occasionally might 
be had at the small farm-house, but not a spare room, 
there being no partition across the unceiled and naked 
chamber. In process of time a wonderful accession was 
made ; a peat-shed, as it was unostentatiously styled, was 
erected near the spring (about one-third of a mile from 
the small farm-house), in one corner of which was placed 
an old rum-puncheon, as a substitute for a more regularly 
shaped bath ; and in the opposite corner was fixed a 
sm all boiler, the fuel, which consisted of turf or peat, 
being piled up between them, but leaving space enough 
to move from one end of the shed to the other, the dimen- 
sions of which were probably not over twelve feet square. 
This was considered a wonderful achievement, for 
Shap Wells had now actually become a bathing-place. 
The bath, however, was not a very convenient one ; for 
the hogshead had to be mounted through the assistance of 
a short ladder with narrow rounds — not very agreeable to 
bare feet, and descended into in a similar manner. Then 
there was no attempt at a private dressing-room, the peat- 
shed being, in fact, the place of general accommodation. 
After a person had just emerged from the warm region 
of the steaming puncheon, it was no very agreeable thing, 
particularly in cold weather, to have to dress in the filthy 
peat-shed and walk one-third of a mile afterwards before 
being able to get near a fire ; and then, most probably, 
but an indifferent one in a cold stone kitchen. I well 
remember the old rum-puncheon, for in my younger days 
I occasionally patronised it, as, although against my own 
inclination, I was recommended this use of the water. 

By-and-bye a new building was erected as a place of 
accommodation for those who wished to spend some time 
at Shap Wells for the benefit of the waters. But a slight 
mistake, or rather oversight, took place regarding this 
recent improvement, for those interested in it erected the 
new building close alongside the old farm-house, instead 
of in the immediate vicinity of the spring. This mistake 
was discovered before the building was completed ; and 
the undertaking was left unfinished. A sleeping apart- 
ment or two were, however, fitted up in the new house, so 
that two or three individuals occasionally might be found 
(invalids for the most part) staying at this retired and 
out-of-the-way watering-place. 

Matters continued in this state for some years, and 
many complaints got abroad respecting the want of 
accommodation, while the benefits derived from these 
waters were said to be many, and some of them truly won- 
derful. The subject at length roused the attention of the 
owner of the property, the Earl of Lonsdale ; and about 
ten years ago a large and commodious hotel was built 
pear the spring, with bath-house, stables, coach-house, 

and every other appendage necessary for such an esta- 
blishment. Some of the barren knolls were planted with 
suitable shrubs and timber ; gardens were made where 
the soil was found to be best suited for the purpose ; 
and two carriage-roads were opened— one communicating 
with the great road leading over Shap Fells, and the 
other with the turnpike leading from Shap to Orton. These 
great improvements effected all that had been predicted, 
that of annually attracting a large and respectable con- 
course of persons, some in the expectation of deriving 
benefit to their bodily infirmities from the healing effects 
of this long neglected spring ; others, to breathe the pure 
mountain air ; and others, in the hope of meeting with 
good and agreeable society, of which, for the last few 
years, during the summer-months at least, there has been 
no scarcity at this rural and secluded, but now fashion- 
able resort of the Spa Hotel, alias Shap Wells. 

The only object in the neighbourhood of this watering 
place (now that the Druid Stones no longer exist) com- 
monly visited by strangers, is the ancient monastery, 
generally known as Shap Abbey. It is situated in a 
lonely vale, one mile west of the village of Shap, and 
about four miles from the new hotel at the Wells. This 
valley is watered by the river Lowther, which, in the 
vicinity of the abbey, is little more than a mere moun- 
tain brook. Although the size of the original church, as 
well as several other parts of the ancient monastery, may 
still be distinctly traced, the tower of the church is nearly 
all that remains of this ancient monastic establishment. 
It was founded in the early part of the twelfth century ; 
and although the surrounding country at the present day 
is, as has been already stated, so bare and destitute of 
timber, for several centuries subsequent to that period 
much of the adjoining lands were covered with timber, 
or were at least in the customary forest state. 

Friendship and Patriotism, — A man who loves only him- 
self, without regard to friendship and desert, merits the 
severest blame ; and a man who is only susceptible of friend- 
ship, without public spirit, or a regard to the community, is 
deficient in the most material part of virtue. — Humes 

Superstition and Enthusiasm.J-Weakikeu, fear, melan- 
choly, together with ignorance, are the true sources of super- 
stition. Hope, pride, presumption, a warm imagination, to- 
gether with ignorance, are the true sources of enthusiasm. — 
Humes Essays. 

Law and Knowledge. — From law arises security; from 
security, curiosity; and from curiosity, knowledge. The 
latter steps of this progress may be more accidental, but the 
former are altogether necessary. — Hume's Essays. 

Fondness of Men for their Occupations.— The Ger- 
man miner, who leads the most toilsome life, and is more 
scantily rewarded than any other labourer, speaks with 
a kind of enthusiasm of his pursuit He loves it because 
it is totally different from anything else. The life of a 
German waggoner should certainly be considered a stupid 
and dreary one. To walk slowly, step by step, by the side 
of a team, day after day, on the same route, on which he 
knows every innkeeper's face, and every rise and descent of 
the road, cannot be believed to have many attractions. Tet 
he speaks with delight of his trade. In one of my pedes- 
trian journeys I met with a train of heavily laden waggons 
proceeding to Leipzig shortly before the fair. I entered 
into a conversation with the eldest of the waggoners, who, 
in informing me of his course of life, told me of the several 
diseases to which he was subject, and mentioned that he 
had remained at home for some time in consequence of 
sickness. As these men are generally wealthy, I evinced 
my astonishment that he again exposed himself to the in- 
clemency of the weather, as his state of health seemed to 
warrant no such exposure. " Ah," said the old man, jogg- 
ing along on his crooked legs, " a waggoner cannot remain 
at home— we love our profession."— Dr. Francis Lieber, 

Digitized by 






Cottages are a class of objects from which a traveller 
passing hastily through a country may perhaps most 
safely draw conclusions concerning its internal con- 
dition. They also indicate something of the geological 
character of each district, and are in some degree mo- 
dified in their forms by the influences of climate and 
situation ; and further, they may also illustrate the his- 
tory of the country, and show what is the standard of com- 
fort in reference to one of the three principal physical 
wants of man. We do not of course mean to attach very 
great value to opinions formed on an outside view of 
things, but sufficient may be gathered to correct or corro- 
borate information derived from sources assumed to be 
more authentic ; and, taking the widest points of observa- 
tion, the views -suggested by an Irish cabin and a neat 
English cottage would probably need little further cor- 
rection after a careful inquiry into the means, resources, 
and internal economy of their respective inmates. 

In England, cottages are built of the material which 
the immediate neighbourhood supplies. Thus, on the 
downs of Kent and Sussex, flint, which forms a cheap 
and excellent building material, is commonly used ; and 
wherever the walls are formed of mud or some equally 
common mixture, we may infer that better materials are 
not to be found within a considerable distance. The same 
inference would not be correct if applied to Ireland, but 
would require to be modified by a. knowledge of the com- 
parative wealth of each country. In Staffordshire the 
cottages are covered with tiles of a dark blue colour, 
resembling cast-iron in appearance, and almost as hard ; 
in the north of Derbyshire a grey and white slate is much 
used; in the red-sandstone districts the tiles are of a 
glaring red; in some of the clay-districts they have a 
whitish appearance, in others a yellowish hue ; in West- 
moreland the old cottages are covered with large thick 
unhewn slates. 

In a cold climate the roofs of cottages arc usually made 
steep, in order that they may be less liable to injury from 
heavy falls of snow, and to allow the rain to shoot off 
the surface as quickly as possible. In Derbyshire the 
roofs are more acute than in the southern counties. 
The old English cottage of clay, mud, or turf required a 
similar roof to lessen the pressure on the weak walls. In 
the north-eastern parts of Europe the country at a passing 
view seems to be much more advanced and prosperous than 
it really is; but the long and severe winters will account 
for the extensive accommodation provided not only for 
men but cattle. The roofs of the cottages in Russia are 
high pitched, and covered with sawed boards projecting 
six feet from the walls; the interstices are filled with 
moss; and every plan is adopted which tends to main- 
tain a high degree of heat within. In Norway the roofs 
have a pitch of about two feet, and are closely boarded 
on the outside, and coated with birch-bark peeled off 
in large flakes. Earth is then laid on to the depth 
of about three inches, being retained by a ledge along 
the bottom of the roof; and the surface is rendered 
compact by a crop of grass or moss growing on the 
earth. The general appearance of a Swiss cottage is 
well known. The roof is formed of short pieces of pine 
split into thin layers, and held together by small spars 
laid across them ; and stones are laid on the top, to pro- 
tect the roof against winds and storms. The north of 
Europe, where there are immense forests, is the original 
country of the American log-hut. The Canadian 
* shanty ' is the log-hut in its simpliest form, but the 
roof is better adapted for carrying off the wet than those 
formed of bark or boards. It is formed of split logs 
Hollowed, and laid alternately with their convex and con- 
cave side uppermost. In very dry countries, as Egypt 
tod Persia, the houses have flat roofs, the walls being 
carried above them and forming a parapet. The house- 

top is a place for social conversation, for walking upon, 
and for sleep under the canopy of heaven. When we find 
the flat roof adopted in the northern parts of Persia, 
where occasionally heavy falls of snow and rain occur, 
we have an instance of the influence of fashion over cir- 
cumstances; and much attention is required in wet 
weather to the state of the roof, for it is not adapted to 
the climate. 

Cottages may either be clustered in villages or scattered 
over the face of the country. In Hungary the rural popu- 
lation is all found in villages. This has been a land 
where war and rapine have often prevailed — the ' border' 
of the East and West — the bulwark against the torrent of 
population from the East which threatened at one time 
to overwhelm Europe — and men have been impelled 
towards each other by the want of mutual protection. In 
France and Germany the country-people also live in 
villages and hamlets, and these countries, consisting for 
the most part, like Hungary, of extensive plains, have 
often been the battle-field of contending powers ; while the 
feudal system and its influence long prevailed and affected 
the forms of society. In England, on the contrary, which 
has been for eight centuries exempt from foreign devasta- 
tion, and where the shackles of the middle ages easily 
gave way as industry and commerce increased, the mo- 
tives which cause an agricultural population to live in 
little communities have not been either so powerful or so 
generally felt. The cottages of England are scattered over 
her hills, valleys, and plains, by the side of heaths and 
commons, on the verge of woods, and in the pleasant nooks 
of green lanes. Let a poet describe the situation of the 
cottages of Westmoreland : — 

u Cluttered like stars some few, but single most, 
And lurking dimly in their shy retreats, 
Or glancing at each other cheerful looks." 

In Ireland, where there is an incessant struggle for 
land as a means of subsistence, and the proportion of 
landowners to the whole population is lower than in any 
country in Europe, landlords sometimes place a cottier on 
the verge of a barren moor at a high rent, and when the 
tenant has reclaimed a portion of the land, and is about 
to reap the reward of his industry, he is moved farther on 
the unreclaimed waste, still at a high rent, and the land- 
lord profits by his previous painful exertions. On some 
estates in the same country, where improvements have 
been made, the small collection of cabins in which the 
occupiers resided have been broken up, and cottages have 
been built on the respective holdings of the tenants. 
When landlords are less liberal, the cottier is often placed 
on the worst part of the land, and a higher rent is charged 
than for the best land. Very generally the cabins are 
erected by the road-side, where the least damage can be 
done by pigs and poultry. The labourer in fact prefers 
this situation, as his pig can pick up some of its food 
aloug the road, and the farmer is less liable to injury 
from trespassing. The vicinity of a bog is generally 
thickly inhabited, on account of the facilities of obtaining 

If we take the cottages of a country as indicative of the 
standard of comfort, much may be ascertained, even at a 
cursory glance, to excite at least reflection and inquiry. 
The best-lodged people in Europe, according to Mr. 
Laing, are the Norwegians; the dwelling-houses of 
the humblest labourers in Norway being divided into 
several apartments, which have wooden floors and a suf- 
ficient number of good windows. Norway is the country 
of small landowners, and the possession of property 
exercises an influence which tends to elevate the standard 
of comfort ; and having long enjoyed free political insti- 
tutions, the standard of morals is high also. In Ireland, 
the country of small tenancies, the standard of comfort is 
exceedingly low. The cottages of the poorest class of Irish 
peasantry are neither so neat nor so warm and comfortable 
as the huts of the New Zealanders or many other people 

Digitized by 



w— V y»^.. ..M T |VV*«MVQ># VM*V«»£a« « 

Digitized by LjOOQ IC 




roof, the interior of the walls is continually in a damp 
and dripping state, and the walls themselves moulder 
away rapidly and accelerate the decay of the thatch. 
These roofs afford such insufficient protection from the 
wet, that the inmates are often obliged to shift their beds 
to another corner of the cabin in the course of a night 
to avoid the rain; and at one of the examinations, 
in the course of the inquiry, a witness stated that, when 
taking shelter in cabins, he had found little more pro* 
teotion from the wet than if he had remained out of 
doors ; and another witness, alluding to the rottenness of 
the thatch, said that it was little better than living under 
a dung-hill. The rain falling upon the floor, which 
consists of the natural earth, contributes not a little to the 
dirt and wretchedness of the inmates. On a cabin being 
erected, the floor is made by digging up the ground on 
which the house is built, and then trampling it into so- 
lidity. At an examination under the inquiry, Captain 
Atkinson said to one of the peasantry, " When this is to 
be done, they sometimes have a dance for that purpose, 
have n't they, Barney ?" " Yes, Sir, and many a match 
comes out of a thing of the sort." Thus recklessly does 
the Irish peasant marry, and the misery which is his lot 
descends to his children. His ideas of a suitable dwell- 
ing rise no higher than a hovel of raw earth and sticks, 
which may be obtained with scarcely any foresight, and 
erected in a day or two. In nearly every county in Ire- 
land the peasantry can erect their own cabins. The 
cottage of an English labourer costs 50/. or 60/., and fre- 
quently more ; and if a cottager build for himself, which 
few do, the cost will be 20/. or 30/. The rent of the most 
ordinary cabin in Ireland is 15*. or 20*. ; and if half a 
rood of land be attached, the rent rises to 21. In Eng- 
land the rent of a comfortable cottage is probably about 
one-eighth of the labourer's income; but the Irish 
peasant expends about a fourth of his income in the rent 
of his miserable abode and small patch of land. 

There is only one portion of Great Britain where the 
habitations of the people are of so wretched a description 
as in Ireland. This is in Lewis, one of the Western 
Islands, where, according to the ( Statistical Account of 
Scotland,' the houses are without a pane of glass; and 
cattle, as well as human beings, are under the same roof. 
Wood is so scarce, that, with their rude and unimproved 
industry, they cannot afford to put good rafters on their 
cottages. ** The roofs have no eaves. The thatch in gene- 
ral is made of stubble or potato-stalks, which are spread 
on the scanty wooden roof, and bound by leather or rope 
straws, which again are at each side of the roof fastened 
by stones called anchors, resting on the top of the broad 
wall. From the slightness of the wooden rafters, much 
straw or stubble cannot be laid for thatch, but just suffi- 
cient to exclude the daylight. The thatch is not expected 
at first to keep out the rain until it is impregnated with 
soot ; but the inmates keep plenty of peats on the fire ; 
the interior is soon filled with smoke ; the smoke and 
increasing heat repel the rain, for a great proportion of 
what falls on the roof is returned to the atmosphere by 
evaporation. These houses, after a smart shower, appear 
like so many salt-pans or brewhouses in operation. The 
interior is in a corresponding state of wretchedness; 
and we learn, with scarcely any surprise, that plats of 
dried turf occasionally serve for blankets. It ought to 
be a matter of congratulation that in Great Britain at 
Wast it is only in a few remote places that we can find 
parallel instances of so barbarous a domestic condition. 

Much, however, remains everywhere to be done in the 
way of improving the domestic habits of the humbler 
classes ; and it is not amongst them alone that low notions 
exist of the comforts to which they should aspire, but 
some blame attaches to the builders of cottages. Cot- 
tages of superior appearance do frequently present them- 
selves, but often they are rather intended to be orna- 
mental objects ; and the internal arrangements show that 

little attention has been paid to comfort, health, and 
propriety. Happily there are numerous instances in 
which the latter objects have also been kept in view, and 
we hope this feeling is increasing. It is, however, but a 
few years since that excellent institution the Highland 
Society, which is an honour to Scotland, offered a pre- 
mium for the best designs for labourers' cottages; and of 
the great numbers sent in, not one showed a floor above 
the level of the ground they were to be built upon. 

ITo be continued.] 

III. Henry VI. 

t Continued from No. 506.*, 

Although, unfortunately, the Tower does not possess 
any complete specimens of armour of the period between 
the reigns of Edward I. and Henry VI., it will be neces- 
sary, in order to make our account of military costume 
complete, to describe the improvements which took place 
in those reigns. The specimens of armour extant of the 
thirteenth and fourteenth centuries are extremely rare, and 
the principal authorities for the costume of those times 
are the allusions made by contemporary historians and 
poets, and the illuminations in the MSS. of the period. 
To these we may add the occasional assistance of a monu- 
mental effigy, and the notices to be found in the early 
rolls and wardrobe accounts of royal and noble families. 
It is from such authorities that Sir Samuel Rush Meyrick 
and other collectors of arms and armour are enabled to 
identify the «ra of the specimens which may fall in their 
way ; and from the writings of such collectors we com- 
pile our present account. 

We have already said that in the reign of Edward I. 
an approach to plate armour had been made in the 
adoption of elbow and knee pieces, and from this time 
armour of plate began rapidly to supersede the old cos- 
tume. The figure of Edward I. in the Tower (engraved 
at page 25) does not however present us with more than 
the ordinary armour of the knights, which was still 
mostly of the fashion of the preceding reigns. 

Among the most important additions to armour in the 
reign of Edward II. were the mamelieres, or breast- 
pieces, two round plates of steel fastened on the breast 
over the surcoat, chains being attached to them, from one 
of which depended the sword, and from the other the 
helmet, the latter never being worn except at tournaments 
or at the time of action, when it was placed over the 
bascinet, a close-fitting iron cap in the shape of a basin. 

In the chancel of Ash Church, in Kent, is the monu- 
mental effigy of a knight clothed in armour of the 
latter part of this reign, which exhibits the latest im- 
provements. The general appearance of the warlike 
costume of the period may also be seen in the seal of 
Edward, prince of Wales, afterwards Edward III. ; in 
this he is represented with ailettes on his shoulders, on 
which his heraldic bearings are depicted. Ailettes, how- 
ever, became very uncommon towards the close of the 
reign of Edward II., and disappeared altogether in the 
middle of the fourteenth century. 

The next additions in the way of plate armour which 
we have to notice were made in this reign, and consisted 
of brassarts and vanbraces (avant-bras) on the arms, and 
greaves in the front of the legs. The hauberk at this 
time, instead of having a hood of mail attached to it, now 
terminated at the collar ; a neck-guard of chain, called the 
camcril, being fastened to the edge of the bascinet, and 
falling down upon the shoulders over the surcoat, leaving 
a small opening for the face. 

We next enter upon the chivalrous times of Edward 
III., and it is now that we observe the greatest additions 
of plate to the armour. The legs and arms were entirely 
defended by plate, gussets of mail being only worn under 
the arm and at the bend of it. The feet were guarded 

Digitized by 




[Maich 1, 1840. 

by pointed shoes of overlapping steel-plates called sollerets. 
The leathern gauntlets were similarly cased. with steel 
and provided with steel tops, besides which small spikes, 
knobs, or other ornaments were placed on the knuckles, 
being called gads or gadlings. The gauntlets of Edward 
die Black Prince are of brass or latten, and the gadlings 
are made in the shape of lions or leopards. These are 
preserved over his tomb in Canterbury Cathedral. 

The emblazoned surcoat, so conspicuous in the costume 
of the thirteenth century, was gradually discarded in the 
fourteenth for a more convenient garment called a jupon, 
or guipon, made of velvet, and richly embroidered with 
the arms of the wearer. It fitted the body tightly, and 
was confined on the hips by a magnificent belt, to which 
on the right side was attached a dagger, and on the left 
a sword. This belt forms a distinguishing feature in the 
dress of a knight until the close of the fifteenth century, 
at which time it can only be recognised in the lowest 
border of the body armour, it having gradually descended 
from the hips almost to the knees. About the year 1367, 
traces, or overlapping plates of steel below the breast- 
plate, were introduced, the monument of Humphry de 
Bohun, earl of Hereford, who died in that year, being 
represented with them ; but it was not until the reign of 
Henry V. that they became general. 

It was about the middle of the reign of Edward III. 
that visors were attached to the bascinets, and when this 
was the case, the helmet was dispensed with altogether. 

Back and breast plates of steel were also worn, so that 
the hauberk and plastron, both exceedingly heavy, were 
dispensed with, much to the relief of the warrior. Indeed 
it was one of the principal recommendations of plate 
armour, that it was so much lighter than the cumbrous 
chain-mail and its accompanying garments, the oppres- 
siveness of which was so great that the knights some- 
times sank under it, suffocated with the heat as well as 
oppressed with the burden. 

The monument of Sir Oliver Ingham, at lugham 
Church, Norfolk, of the date of 1343, exhibits most of 
the peculiarities of the armour of this period ; and it is 
also valuable as representing the earliest specimen of the 
large justing helmet surmounted by the crest of the 
Ingham family, an owl with wings expanded. 

The military costume of the time of Richard II. was 
increased in splendour, partaking of the sumptuous ex- 
travagance of the age, which, as regards apparel, has 
never perhaps been exceeded in England. Chain-mail 
was entirely disused, complete suits of plate being 
adopted, often totally covered with ornaments of fine 
workmanship, the richest suits being imported from Italy, 
where the manufacture of armour was carried to the 
highest perfection. The most curious novelty of this 
ieign is the visor, which, instead of being adapted to the 
contour of the bascinet, became of a peaked shape, pro- 
jecting from the face like the beak of a bird. Only two 
of the visored bascinets of this period are known to exist, 
one in the Meyrick collection, the other in the Tower of 
London. The latter was added to the National Collec- 
tion in the year 1834. The shields, which hitherto had 
been generally triangular, or nearly bo, now considerably 
altered. They were rounded at the bottom, and a 
niche or escallop was made on one side of the top, 
called a bouche, or mouth, serving as a rest for the lance. 

The costume of this reign was continued with very 
little variation in the reigns of Henry IV. and Henry V., 
but the solleret, or steel shoe, was frequently supplied by 
footed stirrups incasing the feet, superseding the neces- 
sity for any other defence for the feet, and allowing the 
jambes, or leg-pieces, to terminate at the ankle. In the 
reign of the latter king, the bascinet became rounded be- 
hind to the shape of the head ; and on the top a tube or 
hollow knob was placed to contain the panache, the 
feather or feathers, now for the first time worn on the 
bead of a soldier, though they had for a considerable 

time been worn in the hat by courtiers and civilians. 
Feathers worn at the side of the bascinet were termed 
plumes, A great peculiarity of this period is the use of 
large hanging sleeves of cloth with or over the armour. 
These are frequently seen in illuminations of the age, 
but when they are not worn, the shoulders appear 
covered with overlapping plates called pauldrons ; and 
two circular plates called pallettes are sometimes fastened 
to them in front, so as to protect the armpit. Lance-rests 
in the form of hooks placed just below the breast, and 
breast-plates of two pieces, the lower one rising to a 
point in the centre and fastened to the other by an orna- 
mented buckle, are also characteristic of this reign. The 
lower plate was called the placard. 

The surcoat, or jupon, is frequently alluded to by 
writers of the thirteenth century as the cote d'armes. 

The principal addition to the weapons of this century 
was the pole-axe, an instrument almost always used by 
commanders. Two-handed swords with flaming and waved 
blades are also to be met with in illuminations, but it is 
most probable they were principally used for state. 

The armour of Henry V. is represented on his great 
seal, as well as in one of the illuminations of the cele- 
brated Bedford Missal. 

The character of the armour in the reign of Henry VI. 
may be seen in that worn by the figure in the Tower 
(engraved in page 68). This, it will be perceived, is 
without the surcoat or jupon, so distinguishing a feature 
in the military costume of the Edwards and Henries 
previous to this period ; but it was almost entirely dis- 
carded in this reign, and is therefore but seldom to be 
met with. In this figure of the king, the breast and back 
plates are composed of several pieces, to render them 
flexible, and the hips are protected by the tuilles or 
tuileltes, plates depending from the traces, or skirt of the 
armour in front, over an apron of chain-mail. On his 
head he wears the knight's cap, surmounted by the royal 
crest. The cap here represented was frequently worn 
over the salade or sallet, a German head-piece first im- 
ported in this reign, the principal characteristic of which 
is the projecting behind. It had sometimes only a hori- 
zontal slit for the Bight as it descended below the eyes, 
but at others it came no lower than the forehead, and was 
furnished with a moveable visor. The long-toed sollerets 
and formidable spurs, the latter being screwed on to the 
heel instead of being fastened by straps, are remarkable 
features of the costume of this time. 

The caparisons of the horse on which the figure of 
Henry VI. is mounted, are emblazoned with the arms of 
England and France ; the head of the animal being pro- 
tected by the chanfron. 

Modern Colonists.— In the middle ages, the intercourse 
not only between nations but also between petty states and 
cities was of a kind to deprive an individual, thrown among 
strangers, of many of the rights most necessary for his well- 
being. It was exceedingly difficult for him to find a new 
home. Nor were, at that time, social intercourse and the 
common habits of men founded upon so universal and broad 

Principles as to allow the foreigner to feel himself at ease, 
he Florentine wept in Ferrara or Venice, for his home, 
his patria, we cannot say his country. It is far different 
now. An emigrant leaves the place of his birth, travels 
many hundred miles through a foreign country, crosses the 
wide ocean, travels a thousand miles into the interior of 
another hemisphere, and builds his hut He is among 
strangers, it is true, yet he finds there the same dress, the 
J*™, 6 u J anners » tft e same principles of morality, the same 
God. There is a Catholicism in modern morality, know- 
ledge, and civilization, which makes an individual belong- 
ing to the European family feel easily at home wherever he 
may be within the pale of European civilization.— Abridged 
from Francis Lieber's Stranger in America, 

V The Office of the Society for the Diffusion of Ueefol Knowledge it «t 

W. Lincoln'* luo Fields. 


Pit»te4 by Wutuii Otowu tad 8o*s, 8Umford Stmt. 

Digitized by 




Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. 



[March 14, 1840. 


IPjoumi, the Residence of the late Lady Hester Stanhope, in Syria.] 

The history of the Druses has long been a Bubject of in- 
quiry and perplexity. This interesting people are scat- 
tered over Syria southward to near the sources of the 
Jordan, and northward nearly as far as the latitude of 
Tripoly; eastward they are found in the district of 
Haouran, south-east of Damascus; in the chain of 
Antiubanus ; and the intervening plain which separates it 
from Mount Lebanon ; but they are most numerous 
in the range of Libanus itself. 

The authority of the emir of the Druses extends more 
or less over this territory, with the exception of some por- 
tions of its outskirts. The true seat of his dominion, 
however, is Mount Lebanon. He has under him several 
subordinate emirs; and recently some portion of the 
pashalic of Damascus has been added to his government 
by Ibrahim Pasha. The government of the mountain 
has been in the family of the present emir for nearly a 
century and a half. The construction of society resem- 
bles a good deal that which formerly existed in Scotland, 
the mountaineers being divided into clans. Hence the 
reigning emir has not been selected from the Druses, as 
that would have infallibly led to factions and family con- 
tests. The late emir was a Christian, and his household 
and attendants embraced the same faith, but from mo- 
tives of policy he conformed with some of the Mo- 
hammedan usages, and he kept an even balance betwixt 
the various sects living under his rule. The Druses do 
Vol. IX. 

not enjoy the advantages and protection afforded by legal 
tribunals ; but their disputes are usually settled by the in- 
terference and arrangement of friends, and if this does not 
satisfy the parties, reference is made to the emir. On 
the whole, life and property are generally respected. 
The emir derives large revenues from his own domains, 
and the heavy personal exactions which are levied in the 
ill-governed parts of the East are unknown. The moun- 
tain is consequently regarded as a place of refuge and 
security, and is sought as an asylum by persons from all 
parts of Syria. ' The population is raised above that state 
of poverty and precarious dependence in which they are 
frequently placed in the neighbouring countries by their 
oppressive and despotic rulers. 

The religion of the Druses is the most inexplicable 
part of their history. In the countries in which the 
Christian religion was first planted, wars, revolutions, 
and vicissitudes of every kind having overthrown the 
primitive churches, time and circumstances have cor- 
rupted in a singular degree the religious opinions of the 
sects which arose out of their ruins, and they exhibit a 
combination of Christianity, Judaism, and Mohammedan- 
ism. With these recognised characteristics is found the 
ordinary degree of human folly and weakness, which may 
be expected when men follow the dictates either of enthu- 
siasm or superstition. The population under the emir of 
the Druses comprises Christians of various sects, of whom 

Digitized by Vj(90Q IC 



[March 14* 

the Maronites, who are the largest claw, are Roman, Ca- 
tholicB ; and next to them in importance are the Mel- 
chites, or Greek Roman Catholics, so called from their 
having seceded from the Greek church. The Metawa- 
,ies are the most numerous class among the Moham- 
medans. They adopt the doctrines and forms of the 
Persian Mohammedans, which differ from those enter- 
tained and observed by the Turks. 

Since the Jesuit missionaries first prosecuted their 
labours in this quarter, the religion of the Druses has 
been an interesting subject of inquiry ; and both Niebuhr 
and Volney endeavoured to ascertain its true character. 
They are not Mohammedans, and certainly cannot be re- 
garded as professors of Christianity. Indifference to 
religion of any kind renders them the most tolerant of all 
sects, bad as is the source whence their conduct in this 
respect springs. In the presence of strangers they will 
fast during the Ramadan, the Mohammedan Lent, while 
at their own houses they pay no regard to Moslem rites, 
but eat even of the flesh of the wild boar and drink 
wine. Burckhardt says that it seems to be their usual 
maxim to adopt the religious observances of the most 
numerous sect about them ; in fact, to join outwardly the 
strongest party. The tolerant disposition of the Druses 
would, it has been thought, render them favourable sub- 
jects for missionary instruction ; but the Jesuits did not 
find this to be the case, and iu the * Lettres Edifiantes 
et Curieuses ' it is stated that " their inviolable attachment 
for their religion, and still more their obstinacy in re- 
fusing instruction, give just reason to fear that this sect 
will persist in shutting its eyes to the light of the gospel." 
The Protestant missionaries have not been more success- 
ful in overcoming these impediments. 

It was thought at one time that the investigations of 
the late Baron de Sacy had unravelled the mysteries of 
the religious practices and doctrines of the Druses ; and 
in his ' Chrestomathie Arabe ' he gave a translation of 
several Arabic manuscripts purporting to be their sacred 
books, from which he inferred their belief in the trans- 
migration of souls, and that they paid adoration to a 
sheep or a calf. Mr. Buckingham hints that the object 
of their worship is something very different, though not 
at all better calculated to elevate and improve their moral 
character ; but his views on the subject appear to be 
wholly conjectural. The religious organization of the 
Druses is well calculated for a secret religion. The 
people are divided into three classes — the ' Djahelin ' or 
the ignorant, the partially initiated, and those fully ini- 
tiated. The second class may again go back into the 
class of Djahelin if they think proper ; but it is said they 
incur the penalty of death if they make known any of 
their mysteries, and it is also stated that the same 
punishment awaits them if they become either Christians 
or Mohammedans. They do not attempt to make prose- 
lytes. At their weekly meetings the initiated class often 
remain at their places of worship until a late hour ; they 
are accused on these occasions of being guilty of licentious 
practices ; and though there seems to be no very good 
ground for such a charge, it is repeated by successive 
travellers copying from the statements of their prede- 
cessors. Though their moral sense is probably feeble 
enough, the Druses are not loose observers of outward 
decorum; and it is remarked that a young Druse, on 
being initiated into the innermost forms and doctrines of 
his religion, abandons his previous bad habits. This, 
however, as Mr. Jowett observes, may arise from pride 
and the spirit of caste. 

We are so little satisfied with collating different au- 
thorities on the religion of the Druses, that we think it 
more useful to the reader to show the opinions of two 
eminent authorities in their own words. Niebuhr, who 
devoted much attention to the subject, gives the following 
account of the religious constitution of the Druses : — 
" The Druses," he says, " are divided into Akals, that is 

to say, ecclesiastics, and Djakelt, or seculars. The eccle- 
siastics 'are dependent upon three Akals, who are sheiks 
among them. The Akals are distinguished from the 
seculars by their white caps. . On Thursday evening, 
which among the Orientals is called the night of Friday, 
they assemble in the house of one or other of their fra- 
ternity to perform their worship and pray for the whole 
nation : the wives of ecclesiastics may be present, but 
they do -not admit seculars, not even a sheik or an emir. 
They despise all employments of honour in the world, 
but perhaps in this they make a virtue of necessity ; for, 
on the return or* Hakem (their founder), they hope to be 
kings, viziers, and pashas. They do not marry the 
daughters of seculars, and they even carry their aversion 
to the property of the great so far as not to eat with the 
sheiks and emirs of their own nation. Akals eat only 
with Akals, and with the peasants and other poor people, 
who, they are certain, earn their bread by labour." 

Burckhardt, speaking of the Druses of the district of 
Haouran, says that the Akoul (plural of Akel) are not 
permitted to smoke tobacco ; they never swear ; and they 
are very reserved in their manner and conversation. ** I 
was informed," he says, " that these were their only ob- 
ligations, and it appears probable, for I observed Akoul 
boys of eight or ten years of age, from whom nothing 
more difficult could well be expected, and to whom it is 
not likely that any important secret would be imparted.* 
I have seen Akoul of that age, whose fathers were not of 
that order, because, as they told me, they could not ab- 
stain from smoking and swearing. The sheiks are for 
the greater part Akoul. The Druses pray in their chapels, 
but not at stated periods ; and none but Druses are al- 
lowed to enter them." Of the Akoul of Mount Lebanon 
the same traveller says,—" They superintend divine wor- 
ship in the chapelt and instruct the children in a kind of 
catechism. They are obliged to abstain from swearing 
and all abusive language, and dare not wear any article 
of gold or silver. Many of them make it a rule never to 
eat of any food nor to receive any food which they sus- 
pect to have been improperly acquired. There are dif- 
ferent degrees of Akoul, and women are also admitted 
into the order." 

Such are the accounts most worthy of confidence ; but 
the evidence on which they rest is not in every respect 
such as to entitle them to implicit credit ; and, as Burck- 
hardt himself remarks, — " the religious opinions of the 
Druses will remain for ever a secret, unless revealed by a 
Druse." No such revelation has yet been made, and all 
the accounts which we possess are but hearsay. Possibly, 
after all, the Druse religion may derive some part of its 
mystery from its incoherent and ill-understood doctrines. 
The best thing which can be said of this people is that 
they live in harmony with their neighbours, whether 
Christians or Mohammedans. This much appears to be 
certain concerning them, that they are or were originally 
disciples of the sixth Fatimah caliph of Egypt, who in the 
eleventh century proclaimed himself to be an incarnation 
of the Divinity, and established a secret lodge at Cairo 
divided into nine faculties, if we may so term them, the 
first of which taught the superfluousness of all religions 
and the indifference of human actions. The Assassins 
were a branch of this sect. 

The vernacular tongue of the Druses is Arabic. The 
Maronites have a college for the study of Syriac ; and 
the Melchites have also a college. There are besides a 
number of Christian convents scattered in the mountain. 

Our cut gives a view of the residence of the late Lady 
Hester Stanhope, amidst the barren but majestic mountains 
near Saidee (the ancient Sidon). It consisted of ten or 
a dozen compartments, of one story, resembling so many 
small cottages, and afforded accommodation for herself, 
household, attendants, and occasional visitors. Lady 
Hester resided above twenty years in Syria. She was a 
* This ttatement appear* to be very inconclusive. 

Digitized by 





grand-daughter of the first Earl Chatham, and niece of 
Mr. Pitt, and during her uncle's administration was well 
known in the most brilliant circles of fashion and politics 
in London. On the death of Mr. Pitt she went to France, 
then proceeded to Italy, Greece, Constantinople, Cairo, 
and was the first European lady who visited the pyramids 
of Gizeh. During her wanderings she was wrecked on 
the island of Cyprus, and lost much valuable property. 
Palmyra and the principal objects of interest in Syria 
also attracted her, and being pleased with the climate, 
scenery, and manners of this part of the East, she deter- 
mined to make it her residence, adopting, as the only 
costume which the habits and manners of the country 
Tendered most convenient to one in her circumstances, 
the dress of a Turkish effendi, or private gentleman. 
Lady Hester was held in high estimation by the moun- 
taineers of Lebanon and the people of the adjacent dis- 
tricts, by whom she was generally called the Princess or 
the King's Daughter ; and the pension she enjoyed from 
the English government was often liberally employed in 
contributing to their welfare. Lady Hester Stanhope 
died at her mountain residence, last year, being in her 
sixty-third year. 

[To be continued.' 

There is perhaps no town in England whose present 
condition, either in itself or in connection with its former 
history, is more worthy of study than that of Newcastle- 
upon-Tyne. So many persons know nothing of its pre- 
sent aspect, so many conceive of it merely as a smoky 
place strewed with coals, dismal by day with its yawning 
pits, and by night with its lurid fires, that we are tempted 
to give such an idea as can be conveyed by words of the 
beauty and splendour of which it has now to boast, — the 
greater part of which it owes to the genius and industry 
of one man. 

Newcastle-upon-Tyne owed its origin to the spirit of 
w, — its establishment, to that of religion, — and its in- 
crease, to that of commerce. 

The earliest notice that seems to have been taken of 
the hills and dell on which it is built was by the Ro- 
mans, nearly 1800 years ago. The great wall which the 
Romans built across the narrowest part of England, 
ended near these hills, running from the Solway Frith 
to a point on the hanks of the Tyne, three miles east of 
Newcastle, and called Wallsend at this day. To protect 
the termination of this wall, a military station was estab- 
lished on the spot on which the town now stands, and 
called at first Pons EliU and afterwards Ad Murum. 
In those days, the sentinel beheld from the wall a very 
different scene from that which now meets the eye from 
any elevation near. The Cheviots rose on the horizon in 
clear days then as now ; and the town-moor spread north- 
wards green and lighted up with ponds, as at this day ; 
but instead of the busy town, the Roman barracks crowned 
the rocky banks of the ravine, none but the soldiers drew 
**ter from the clear brook which ran through it ; the 
Tvne, now crowded with craft, then ebbed and flowed in 
stillness in the valley below ; while the green hills on 
either side were hare of the mansions, churches, furnaces, 
and other works which now rise to the view of the specta- 
tor. No superstitions were then connected with the lo- 
cality ; and nothing was known of the mineral treasures 
which lay beneath those green pastures, and which have 
since determined the occupation of the district aud the 
character of its inhabitants. 

In a subsequent age the spring at the head of the ra- 
Tine came to be considered holy, and an eminence at hand 
was named Jesus' Mount (now Jesmond). Pilgrims 
travelled from great distances to this holy well, and the 
*oad by which they approached Jesmond is now one of 
the principal streets of the town, still retaining the name 
^ Pilgrim Street. Several monasteries rose round about; 

and what had been Pons Elii became Monkchester (the 
city of the monks). These particulars of the early days of 
this town are derived from historical records, and estab- 
lished by the evidence of remains which have come to 
light from time to time, — buried altars, coins, and vestiges 
of buildings. 

The religious erections remained in high reputation 
when Robert Curthose, son of William the Conqueror, 
restored to the place its military character by building a 
fortress. The New Castle (from which the place has 
ever since been named) was his work. It stands on a 
rising ground above the north bank of the river, and its 
lofty keep is one of the most striking objects to the eye of 
a stranger on approaching the town. 

The Augustin Friars' monastery was perhaps the prin- 
cipal religious establishment of the place, or at least the 
most grandly patronised. The old historians say that the 
kings of Northumberland were buried in it; and the kings 
of England made it their abode when they came north- 
wards with their armies to make war with Scotland. The 
nunnery was remarkable for having received within its 
walls, in 1086, Agas, the mother of Margaret, Queen of 
Scotland. It will be seen hereafter what became of this 
nunnery. The monastery of the Black Friars was founded 
in 1251, by Sir Peter Scot, the first mayor of Newcastle, 
and in its church Edward Baliol, King of Scots, did ho- 
mage to Edward III. of England, on the 19th of June, 
1334. Remains of this monastery may yet be seen near 
Low Friar chace (lane, or narrow street). 

As the number of religious establishments increased, 
more and more persons settled in their neighbourhood. 
The ground first covered was the steep slope of the hill 
by the river side, where, as we have said, the castle was 
built. This hill-side became covered, in time, with nar- 
row and winding streets and lanes of dwelling-houses, 
and here stand all the public buildings but those of mo- 
dern date. The Townhall or Guildhall is there, — a very 
ancient building with a new face. The venerable north 
front and lofty steeple which once distinguished it now 
remain only in prints of the old town. The architect of 
this building, and of the Exchange, Robert Trollope, lies 
buried in Gateshead churchyard, under the following 
remarkable inscription : — 

u Here lies Robert Trollop, 
Who made yon stones roll up ; 
When death took his soul up, 
His body filled this hole up.'* 

By degrees, the settlements extended backwards to the 
ridge of the hill parallel with that which rose above the 
river ; and afterwards the ravine between was occupied. 
What lias been done with this dene or dean (from which 
Dean Street is named) will be seen hereafter. It is about 
sixty years since the streets erected over this valley be- 
came the most busy and fashionable parts of the town. 

In consequence of the working of the coal-fields of the 
district, the establishment of the glass-manufactory, and 
its vicinity to the sea (from which it is distant only ten 
miles, with a navigable river between), Newcastle long 
ago became a place of great commercial importance. Its 
size has more than doubled, and its population nearly so, 
within the present century ; and it is, in both respects, 
perpetually on the increase. 

In 1819, when the great benefactor of the town, Mr. 
Grainger, seeing the great capabilities of the locality, be- 
gan to form his schemes of improvement, the town pre- 
sented a generally shabby appearance, the streets were 
circuitous (a large central space being occupied by the 
nunnery grounds), and the population, consisting of 
43,000, was too much crowded, especially in the lower 
part of the town. What has since been done, chiefly 
through the energy and genius of this gentleman, for 
the embellishment of the place and the accommodation 
of its inhabitants, we shall proceed to relate. 

[To t* continued.] 

Digitized by 




[Maw* 14. 


(Continued from No. 609."; 

[Thatcher in Normandy.] 

In the early period of our history, oak shingles were 
used as a covering for roofs, but this eventually became 
too expensive, and has long been abandoned. In a few 
village churches in the south of England the old shingle 
roof still remains. There was also a time when some 
even of our best churches were constructed of oak and 
covered with thatch. This was in the seventh and eighth 
centuries. But thatch of straw or reed also ceases in time 
to be the most economical covering ; and the quarry, the 
kiln, or the mine must be looked to for a cheaper and 
better substitute — that is, slate, tiles, or metallic plates 
must be used. Lead is the best covering of all, and slate 
is inferior to it only, and is much superior to tiles, whether 
made in a concave form or quite flat. This has been 
placed beyond all doubt by actual experiment. Two 
pieces of slate and a common pantile being immersed in 
water for an equal length of time, the tile imbibed 
moisture to the extent of one-seventh of its weight, and 
the slate only the two-hundredth part ; and both pieces 
being placed in a room where the temperature was 60°, 
the slate attained its former dryness in half an hour, while 
the superabundant moisture of the tile was not entirely 
exhausted at the end of six days. In some parts of Scot- 
land, pantiles cannot be used unless defended from the 
weather by a covering of heath or straw. 

Boswell, the biographer of Johnson, notices, in his ac- 
count of their joint * Tour to the Hebrides,* that one day 
" Dr. Johnson talked both of threshing and thatching," 
and he tells us what the great man said, namely, that " a 
roof thatched with Lincolnshire reeds would last seventy 
years, as he was informed when in that county, and that 
he told this in London to a great butcher, who said he 
believed it might be true. Such," adds the admiring 
biographer, " are the pains that Dr. Johnson takes to get 
the best information on every subject." Marshall, in his 
€ Rural Economy of Norfolk,' published a few years after- 
wards, tells us that a reed roof will last fifty years with- 
out requiring any repair ; and thirty or forty years longer 
with adjusting and levelling the hollows with a little fresh 
reed. At a hundred years old it may be relaid, and will 
then, if laid upon the upper part of the roof, last through 

a considerable part of another century. The reed here 
spoken of is cut from the margins of ponds and meres ; and 
a similar material appears to be used in thatching the New 
Zealand huts, as shown in the engravings at pages 94 and 
101. Straw is less durable ; and a roof covered with thin 
turf, straw, and clay will not last above seventeen or eighteen 
years. The durability depends in some degree upon the 
preparation of the material and the neatness with which 
it is put on ; and the nature of the climate has also con- 
siderable influence. In some parts of Scotland, where 
fern is used to cover the roof, that which is laid on the 
south or sunniest and driest side of the house will last 
for eighteen or twenty years, or even longer, while the 
same material, when it has to encounter the damp and the 
elements on a northern aspect, will endure only half the 
time. The best position for a thatched building is in a 
diagonal line ; that is, presenting no front exactly to 
either of the four quarters. 

In the Irish Poor Inquiry, quoted in the last number, 
it is stated of the cabins in the county Limerick, which are 
nearly all thatched, that the roof often requires repairs, and 
that it must be renewed every seven years at the furthest. 
The great degree of moisture which prevails in Ireland, 
and the incomplete manner in which the operation of 
thatching is performed, will most probably account for 
the short duration of the thatch. In the west of England 
the straw intended to be used for thatching is combed 
quite clear of weeds, and the ears of corn are cut off, so 
that the straw is put on unbruised, and it resists the wet 
much better in consequence. The best kind of straw is 
wheat or rye straw. Where, however, little pains are taken 
in thatching, as in Ireland, this sort of roof is far from 
being economical in the long run. In the small towus, 
owing to the dearness of Btraw, the labourer puts off the 
repair of his cabin roof until it has begun to rot, and in 
the country the cottier is tempted to convert his scanty 
stock of straw into manure, or, if he has a cow, into food 
for her during the winter. 

Farey, in his 'Agricultural Survey of Derbyshire,* 
written about thirty years ago, in noticing the cottages of 
the labouring class, tells us tint « fortunately no conai 

Digitized by VjOOQ IC 




derable quantity of straw is in Derbyshire devoted from 
the more important purposes of litter and manure." 
Since this period the value of straw has much increased, 
and at present it is sold in the corn-chandlers' shops in 
London at a half-penny per lb. for the truss of 36 lbs., or 
about one-third the price of bread fifty years since ; and in 
remote parts of the country, straw is worth about 42*. per 
ton.* Tenants are generally bound to consume upon the 

funn o oil tha et~rowr Whi/tVt if TiTvi/limoa an A tVria /*-ir/*iim. 

straw, and another, called a ( legget' in some parts of the 
country, is a board studded with large-headed nails, and 
having a handle two feet long, which is used for produc- 
ing a level and uniform surface. The following account 
of the operation of thatching is taken from one of the 
valuable publications of the Highland Society of Scot- 
land. "In laying on the thatch the thatcher stands 
upon a ladder resting upon the sloping conical roof of 

fViA OT/tlr oa nan* oa Via r*ar\ f/\ fliA AOiraa an*) I otto r»v» +VtA 

Digitized by 




[Mar*h t* 9 

may thus become diseased ; but it is especially the bowels 
in children, and the lungs in adults, which suffer. Ex* 
ternally it is generally in the neck that it is visible, af- 
fecting numerous glands which are there situated ; the 
glandular system being especially obnoxious to this mor- 
bid influence. Persons, then, having these glands swollen, 
are said to be affected with scrofula, or the king's evil. 
This latter appellation is derived from the supposed 
power the royal touch possessed in curing the affection. 
It is proposed to give a short account of this popular de- 
lusion, abridging for that purpose two papers which ap- 
peared in the Edinburgh ' Medical Journal' several years 
since : — 

William of Malmesbury states that it is to Edward 
the Confessor we are to attribute the origin of this power— 
which has descended to his lineal successors ; the kings 
of France deriving the privilege only from their alliance 
with our royal family. The practice continued in vogue 
for nearly 700 years ; for the celebrated Samuel Johnson 
was touched by Queen Anne, upon the recommendation 
of Sir John Floyer, a distinguished physician of Lich- 
field, The practice was carried to the highest point in 
the reign of Charles II., who is said to have lain his 
hands on 6000 persons in one year. But many of this 
number were doubtless only pretended, in order to obtain 
a small piece of gold which the king suspended from 
their necks. To check any imposition of this kind, the 
patients were obliged to undergo a preliminary examina- 
tion, and procure a ticket from the king's surgeon. This 
functionary also attended at the touching, presenting on 
his knee each patient to the king. The clerk of the 
closet presented the gold to the king, while a chaplain 
read prayers. Sunday was the day usually appointed. 
In winter the ceremony took place at Whitehall, in sum- 
mer sometimes at Windsor. An exact register of cases 
was kept, and the whole amount is almost incredible. 
From 1660 to 1664 inclusive, 23,601 persons were 

The Mercurius Politicus, 1660, contains the following 
passage. "In this manner his majesty stroked above 
600 ; and such was his princely patience and tenderness 
to the poor afflicted creatures, that though it took up a 
very long time, his majesty, who is never weary of well 
doing, was pleased to make inquiry whether there were 
any more who had not been touched. After prayers were 
ended, the duke of Buckingham brought a towel, and the 
earl of Pembroke a basin and ewer, who, after they had 
made obeisance to his majesty, kneeled down till his ma- 
jesty had washed." The Parliamentary Journal for 
July, 1660, after stating that by reason of the king's re- 
turn, after a long absence, multitudes flocked to be cured, 
and that it was found necessary to limit the number to 
200 each day, adds, "who are first to repair to Mr. 
Knight, the king's surgeon, being at the Cross Guns, in 
Russel Street, Covent Garden, over against the Rose 
Tavern, for their tickets. That none might lose their 
labour, he thought fit to make it known that he will 
be at his home every Wednesday and Thursday from 
2 to 6 o'clock, to attend that service : and if any persons 
of quality Bhall send to him, he will wait upon them at 
their lodgings upon notice given to him." 

In a book published expressly upon the subject by 
" John Browne, one of his majesty's chirurgeons in ordi- 
nary, and chirurgeon of his majesty's hospital," London, 
1684, sixty cures are minutely and circumstantially 
detailed ; as also several scrofulous tumours and sores, 
which disappeared, on being touched by handkerchiefs 
dipped in the blood of Charles I> Browne seems to have 
been a practitioner of established reputation, for his book 
is stamped with the approbation of the College of Phy- 
sicians and the most eminent surgeons of the day. He 
relates cures the king performed during his exile, and de- 
clares that Cromwell tried in vain to exercise this royal 
prerogative. Wiseman, the author of a standard work 

on Surgery, says, M I myself have been a frequent eye- 
witness of many hundreds of cures performed by his 
majesty's touch alone, without any assistance from chirur- 
geons ; and those among them who had tired out the en- 
deavours of able chirurgeons before they came thither," 

In explanation of witnesses, apparently so well qualified, 
delivering what now seems to us such absurd opinions, 
the writer of the papers continues : u The belief in the 
royal touch was evidently a party tenet ; it was therefore 
encouraged by the sovereigns, and upheld by all who 
were disposed to please the court ; and it was never openly 
attacked by those who might not give credit to it, through 
fear, probably, of incurring the suspicion of being dis- 
affected to the government. Wiseman quotes no case from, 
his own for which he ever prescribed this 

remedy, described his own mode of treat- 

ing scroiuiuus discuses with sufficient minuteness. The 
same pat o be touched more than once, which 

proves tl i not always effectual, and that it 

was not hought so. Both Wiseman and 

Browne attached to the king's party, and 

they mignt encourage the common error by conniving at 
the general belief of the unlimited powers of the crown. 
In fulfilling their duties as examining surgeons, they were 
cautious what cases they admitted ; all complaints were 
not allowed to come indiscriminately before the king ; and 
the most unpromising cases of scrofula were not sub* 
mitted to the royal hands. Some of the cures may thus be 
satisfactorily accounted for : faith will do much towards 
making the diseased whole ; and experience shows what 
influence the state of the mind has upon the ulcers and 
wounds in hospitals and camps belonging to a victorious 
or to a conquered army. The sensibility of the system, 
in weak scrofulous habits, would be roused into action ; 
and their complaints would be indirectly affected hy the 
imagination, which must have been powerfully struck by 
the magnificent splendour of the ceremony. 

" Let us suppose a poor ignorant peasant labouring under 
some scrofulous disorder and desirous of being cured, 
brought from a distance in the country to the metropolis, 
and led with great pomp before his sovereign, and an 
august assembly, where he is submitted to a mode of 
treatment of which he has heard such wonders, and from 
which he is convinced beforehand he shall experience pro- 
digious benefit ; iB it not likely such a patient would really 
receive some benefit from being touched ? Moreover, alight 
cases undergo spontaneous changes, especially in warm 
weather, and the approach of summer would therefore 
assist the operation of the ceremony, performed in the 
month of March or April. 

" With regard to the healing efficacy of a handkerchief 
dipped in the blood of Charles I., that is very well attested 
by competent witnesses in Browne's book, and it seems 
the highest effort of enthusiastic loyalty. Nothing can go 
beyond it ; and in any other country but this, our wonder 
would be excited to hear of anybody's credulity going so 
far. But the various pretensions and impostures daily 
practised by quacks afford an irrefragable proof of the 
credulity of the English. 

" In the last century, Sir Kenelm Digby pretended to have 
discovered a sympathetic remedy, which cured wounds 
solely by rubbing it upon the instrument which inflicted 
them. One Greatrex used to cure many disorders by 
stroking, and the early volumes of the * Philosophical 
Transactions ' show how this impudent fellow practised 
upon the celebrated Boyle and others." 

A sensible writer observes upon this subject : " It Was 
enough to refute the impudent claims of the alchemists, 
that these pretended gold-makers were beggars in rags ; 
and it is a convincing proof that the royal touch cannot 
cure the king's evil when it becomes the evil of kings. 
For my own part, indeed, I cannot help wishing this 
royal remedy for scrofula had not gone out of fashion, if 
it ever could be of any service. I wish, most heartily, 

Digitized by 





that all remedies would answer the encomiums bestowed 
upon them, that kings as well as commoners could heal 
the sick, and newspaper doctors prove for once infallible ; 
so should we get rid of the opprobria medicorum; bo 
should we set at nought that first and most uncomfortable 
aphorism of Hippocrates,— * For surely that art were 
soon attained, that hath so general remedies ; and life 
could not be short were there Buch to prolong it.' " 

As somewhat connected with the subject of this paper, 
we may allude to the disgusting practice, which existed 
even in the recollection of many of our readers, of apply- 
ing, by means of the hangman, the hand of an executed 
criminal to the tumours on the necks of women, termed 
wens. May we not add a hope, that speedily executions 
themselves will become as obsolete as has this disgusting 


[Prom a Correspondent." 

The common beaver is not only an inhabitant of the 
northern continental regions of the old world, but through- 
out the whole extent of the continent of North America— 
at least in all the higher latitudes ; for wherever the 
country has been explored, up to the present time, inva- 
riably nave these animals been met with. The species 
appears to be the same on both continents, although 
many early writers on the natural history of America 
appear to have been of opinion that their customs and 
habits (if the expression be applicable to quadrupeds) 
are somewhat different ; for they, one and all, ascribe a 
superior degree of sagacity and industry to the beaver 
found in the western world. This however is a very 
doubtful case ; and later observation seems not to have 
borne out the views and opinions of those early writers, 

There seems no doubt that beavers were more abundant 
in the country now forming the northern section of the 
United States, including the British colonies, and so 
westward by the Great Lakes, than in any section of the 
continent of Europe or Asia with which we were then fa- 
miliarly acquainted ; and as the fur of the beaver was 
one of the most valuable products for many years ex- 
ported from North America, it is by no means singular 
that the early explorers of that country should have 
boasted of its abounding in what they knew would render 
it more valuable in the eyes of the nations of Europe. 
Besides, there is no doubt that a large portion of that 
part of the North American continent of which I am 
speaking, from its local peculiarities, is better adapted 
to the tastes and habits of the beaver. Abounding with 
lakes, rivers, and innumerable small streams, and with 
food agreeable to their tastes, and but a small portion of 
it being very mountainous, it naturally presents every in- 
ducement for these sagacious animals to propagate their 
species in. But although at one period these animals 
were found in considerable numbers in districts of coun- 
try where there is not one to be met with at present-— 
yet in most instances where colonies of these animals 
were found, their numbers were often greatly exaggerated. 
Indeed the caves or burrows of the beaver were invaria- 
bly found iu situations that, without an actual demolition 
of the entire village (if their habitations might be called 
such), it would nave been impossible to come at the 
exact numbers. And even admitting that that point 
could have been ascertained, how were the beavers to be 
Numerated, when Buffon and some other writers state 
that sometimes two, sometimes five or six, and even 
as many as eighteen or twenty inhabit a single hut ? 

The beaver being naturally a shy and timid creature, 
it flies from its accustomed haunts as the country be- 
comes inhabited by the human race ; although it would 
appear that when the country was first visited by Euro- 
peans, it was by no means unusual to find a colony or 
two of beavers in the immediate vicinity of an Indian 

settlement j and though the Indians destroyed them for 
the sake of their skins, they were not considered near so 
valuable to the aboriginal inhabitants as those animal* 
whose skins could* as well as the beaver skins, be con- 
verted into clothings and whose flesh formed a favourite 
and palatable dish of food. But a short acquaintance 
with Europeans converted the Indians into the most 
daring and subtile enemies the beavers have ever had ; 
for in all the large fur- trading establishments it has 
been the prevailing Custom to employ Indians to hunt 
the beaver^ as well as other wild animals, whose skins 
are considered worth the trouble of hunting ; the fur- 
traders furnishing the Indians with traps and other ne- 
cessary engines of destruction. Had the flesh of the 
otter and the beaver been palatable to the taste of the 
Indian tribes of North America, in all probability along 
the rivers and lakes, where numerous savage tribes were 
located, very few of either Would have been found when 
the country was first explored by Europeans. It seems 
not a little singular that the tastes of these savages 
should have been found to assimilate so closely to the 
tastes of civilised and refined nations with regard to the 
flesh of these animals and several others ; as well as to 
numerous kinds of birds, particularly water-fowl. The 
Indians, generally, are fond of flesh, for to many of 
their tribes fish forms the greater portion of their suste- 
nance; and yet where the flesh of animals, such as the 
otter and beaver, has no disagreeable flavour (particu- 
larly the latter) except that it tastes a little fishy, they 
reject it, although they are fond of fish. The flesh of 
the beaver is, however, during the winter season, when 
they become fat, eaten and relished by the hunters in the 
north-west, (See * Penny Mag*,* 1833, page 130.) 

Besides the valuable fur of the beaver, an article so 
generally used in the manufacture of hats of a fine qua- 
lity, that the term ' beaver ' has become, in many in- 
stances, synonymous with that of hat, these animals also 
produce the medicinal drug known as casloreum or 
castor, which, of course, tends to increase their value. 
In the shape of this animal there is nothing very pecu- 
liar — excepting its tail, which is about a foot long and 
five inches broad, and covered all over with scales like a 
fish. Indeed the tail seems a most useful appendage, 
for the beaver makes use of it as a trowel in plastering 
the interior of its habitation with moistened earth or clay, 
and it also makes a capital scull when tins animal travels 
in or under the water. The head is short and rounded, 
and the whole body is shorter and thicker than that of 
the common otter. 

These animals commonly congregate in parties, some- 
times amounting to a score or two, and sometimes even 
to hundreds. But this is not the case invariably, for in 
the forests of America they are occasionally found in so- 
litary pairs. When this is the case their fur is not con- 
sidered equal to that of the community beaver, although 
they appear to be of the same species. From the opinions 
I have been able to form during a long sojourn in various 
parts of the American continent, which once were fa- 
vourite haunts of the beaver, but from most of which 
they have been scared away, as well as from the opinions 
of other individuals, whose opportunities of coming to a 
correct judgment have even exceeded my own — there 
seems little doubt but the accounts of their making such 
perfect, and, I may almost say, scientific dams across 
streams and rivers, have been painted in imaginative co- 
lours ; as have, also, those relations connected with the 
building of their habitations when living in numerous 
societies. Admitting that they possess all the sagacity 
that Buffon or any other writer on natural history has 
thought fit to assign to them, it is quite impossible that 
they should perform works of that magnitude, and where 
so much strength or power was absolutely necessary, as 
we have been informed was the case. 
Although it has occasionally been stated that the beaver 

Digitized by 




[March 14, 1840. 

never eats fish, or at all events if it can procure otner 
food, a better acquaintance with its habits has proved this 
not to be the case ; for there have been several attempts 
made in America within the last thirty or forty years to 
domesticate the beaver, and thus turn beaver-breeding 
to a profitable account, where these animals have ap- 
peared somewhat partial to certain kinds of fish, parti- 
cularly to eels, mullet, and some other sorts found in 
ponds and muddy waters. To be sure, under confine- 
ment, they have not had opportunities of rambling into 
the forests in search of what has been considered their 
usual and favourite food, the fresh bark of various sorts 
of trees ; for although they are known not to reject some 
sorts of bark after it has been hoarded up for several 
weeks during the severest part of winter, when the snow 
is too deep for them to roam abroad, yet when in con- 
finement they might show less partiality for this sort of 
food than when collected by themselves and in a manner 
the most congenial to their tastes and habits. Those 
parties, however, alluded to who have made the attempt 
at domesticating the beaver have never yet been able to 
turn the matter to much account; for notwithstanding 
one person with whom I was acquainted succeeded in 
increasing his stock to upwards of twenty (having com- 
menced with a couple, male and female), he soon after- 
wards gave it up as hopeless, the attention they required 
being so great, particularly during winter ; and he also 
found that the fur of all the younger ones, bred in 
captivity, was considerably inferior to the fur of those 
found in a wild state. Though they frequently produce 
three, and even four, at a birth, this gentleman's tame 
ones never produced more than a couple, and many of 
the young died shortly after their birth. He was well 
acquainted with their tastes and habits previous to his 
embarking in this business, for he had been a fur-trader 
in the remote fur-districts for many years ; and he took 
care to provide them with plenty of water, and built for 
them similar dwellings to those he had witnessed in the 
beaver colonies, yet, after all his labour and expense, he 
was obliged to relinquish the hope of making a fortune 
by beaver-breeding. 

In some parts of the country, indeed in almost every 
part of it where the surface is somewhat hilly or broken, 
those swampy pieces of ground universally called 
Beaver-Meadows are found in the American forests. 
In many places I have seen them occupying nearly every 
little hollow or valley between the various headlands of 
branch brooks and streams ; so that if they ever have 
really been, as is generally believed, the abodes of colonies 
of beavers at some past and remote period, we may rea- 
sonably conclude that, in those situations so peculiarly 
adapted for the haunts of these animals, their numbers 
must have been very considerable indeed when these 
meadows were inhabited by them. From the hilly 
districts bordering upon the river and gulf of St. Law- 
rence westward through New Brunswick and all the 
upland country, from thence through all that section of 
the United States until we reach the great valley of the 
Mississippi, beaver-meadows are more or less numerous ; 
although through all this vast range of country, a great 
portion of which has become peopled by the human race, 
at the present day but very few beavers are found. Most 
of them have undoubtedly been destroyed ; but in some 
cases they have sought for safety in the yet unreclaimed 
forest, constantly receding at the approach of man. 

It seems, however, very doubtful that all those swamps, 
marshes, or grassy ponds were reduced to the condition 
we find them in by beaver at all ; but rather that they 
are the original and natural features of the country, since 
many of them show nothing like the remains of beaver- 
dams, which once must have existed where they are really 
beaver-meadows. With some the case is different, for 
even at the present time the remains of something in the 
nature of dams or embankments can still be traced. 

But here it must be observed that in no situation or single 
instance could I ever discover the remains of a beaver- 
dam of any great extend—nothing approaching the di- 
mensions that have sometimes been assigned them. The 
situation of these dams is, however, invariably the very 
best that human judgment or beaver sagacity could pos- 
sibly have made, that is, the dams have been built in 
situations where the smallest amount of labour produced 
the greatest effect. Their efforts, however, as far as I 
have been able to extend my observations, have never ex- 
tended to the stopping up of deep channels or broad or 
rapid streams. Generally they have only undertaken to 
obstruct the passage of gentle brooks or infant streamlets, 
where the prostration of a few young trees or saplings, at 
the season of the year when the timber is in full leaf, was 
no inconsiderable step towards the completion of their 
object. And since the small streams are many of them 
nearly dried up during the latter part of summer, the 
completion of their labours would have little or nothing 
to retard it. But these beaver-meadows, or the greater 
portion of them, must originally have been meadows or 
low places, else a dam with an elevation not exceeding 
three or four feet (and I am inclined to believe that few 
of them have exceeded this) could not have laid a con- 
siderable space under water. And what strengthens the 
opinion of many, that what are considered as beaver- 
meadows never have been such, are the small deep 
ponds and pools often existing in various parts of them, 
which, if they had been dry land originally, could not 
have been the case. 

In those sections of country devoid of prairies, the 
beaver-meadows are the only places destitute of timber 
when the forests are first explored, and some of them yield 
the first settlers a supply of coarse grass during the period 
they are subduing a portion of the woods, when they have 
no means of procuring a better sort. They are not, how- 
ever, invariably covered with coarse grass or flags, for 
some of them are overgrown with dwarf alders ; while 
others again present an almost impenetrable grove of the 
large-leaved laurel or rhododendron. Where there is a 
considerable fall in the streams that flow from or through 
the beaver-meadows a little below their outlets, as the 
country becomes settled, in many instances, dams are 
erected, and they thus become again overflowed ; and, at 
some short distance down the valley, grist and saw mills 
are built, but particularly the latter ; and although they 
never again become the resort of beaver, they are often 
converted into useful reservoirs, the contents of which are 
applied to sundry useful purposes. When laid dry by 
draining, and afterwards cultivated, the beaver-meadows 
become the most valuable lands in the upland districts. 

Advice to Cottagers.— The following extract from the 
' Useful Hints 1 published monthly by the Labourer's Friend 
Society shows the way to make au humble cottage the abode 
of cheerfulness and content • — " Nature is industrious in 
adorning her dominions, and the man to whom this duty is 
addressed should feel and obey the lesson. Let him too be 
industrious in adorning his dominion— in making his home, 
the dwelling of his wife and children, not only convenient 
and comfortable, but pleasant. Let him, as far as circum- 
stances will permit, be industrious in surrounding it with 
pleasing objects; in decorating it, within and without, with 
things that tend to make it agreeable and attractive. Let 
industry make it the abode of neatness and good order ; a 
place which brings satisfaction in every inmate; and which, 
in absence, draws back the heart by the fond associations of 
comfort and content. Let this be done, and this sacred 
spot will surely become the scene of cheerfulness, kindness, 
and peace." 

• # » The Offict of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge ie et 

59, Lincoln's Iuu Fields. 

Printed by William Clowis & Softs, Stamford-Street. 

Digitized by 



or THB 

Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. 



[Maach 21, 1840 


[Edward IV.] 

Chivalry, which formed so distinguishing a feature in 
the manners of the middle ages, and which had flourished 
greatly in England in the fourteenth century, began 
sensibly to decline at the period at wbich we hare now 

In the fifteenth century the people were so much en- 
gaged in real warfare, that its mimic representations in 
tilts and tournaments were neglected ; and during the 
unfortunate contests between the houses of York and Lan- 
caster, when the kingdom was almost depopulated by its 
internal dissensions, the minds of the contending parties 
became so vitiated, and the animosity entertained by each 
against the other raged with such fury, that all chivalric 
feelings appear to have been' totally banished. The de- 
moralization produced by these wars was not at all con* 
fined to the lower orders ; it exhibited itself with even 
greater violence among the higher classes ; and nobles 
and princes promulgated sentiments not only at variance 
with their vows of knighthood and honourable bearing, 
but opposed to the principles of justice and the first laws 
Vol. IX 

of humanity. Of Edward IV., whom Philip de Comines 
describes as " a man of no great forecast, but very valiant, 
and the beautifulest prince of his time," the historian re- 
lates the following anecdote : — " Now you shall understand 
that the custom in England is, after the victorie obtained 
neither to kill nor ransoume any man, especially of the 
vulgar sort, knowing all men then to be ready to obey 
them, because of their goode Buccesse. Notwithstanding, 
King Edward himself told me, that in all battels that he 
wan, so soon as he had obtained the victory, he used to 
mount on horsebacke, and cry, c Save the people, but kill 
the nobles.' " This anecdote receives confirmation from 
the number of nobles and men of family who lost their 
lives in these wars, a number so large that a suffi 
ciency of gentlemen could with difficulty be found to 
carry on the civil government of the country. It has 
been said that from sixty to eighty nobles and princes of 
the blood-royal lost their lives in this quarrel, either in 
battle or on the scaffold. 
But the decline of chivalry in the fifteenth century, con* 

Digitized by 




[March 21, 

sequent on the internal disquiets of the kingdom, as well 
as on the French wars, was much influenced in the reign 
of Edward hy the habits and disposition of the king. 
Although there is ample proof that Edward was a Warrior 
of great valour and address, and not at all wanting in 
energy when the time came for exertion, it is equally 
admitted that naturally he was more inclined to the quiet 
of peace, when he could indulge his disposition for plea- 
sure and gallantry, for wkich his handsome figure, engag- 
ing manners, and elegant address more fitted him than 
for the rough and laborious employments of war. It 
would have been well had such a disposition been inno- 
cently indulged ; but it is difficult for all men to keep 
their passions within reasonable bounds, and a prince, to 
whom the gratification of his desires is more practicable 
than to most others, finds a corresponding increase in the 
difficulty of curbing them. Edward allowed himself no 
reflection ; he plunged into the greatest excesses, and 
almost all the disorders of his reign and the calamities 
that befel his friends and family may be traced to the 
extravagances into which he was hurried by the gaiety 
of his disposition and his love of pleasure. But the con- 
sequences of such conduct, however observable they may 
be*n after-times, are not appreciated at the moment ; end 
thus the courtiers, who followed the example of the king, 
gave no thought to the future. 

The decline observable in the chivalric bearing of the 
age was a natural consequence of the vices generated by 
idleness ; and Caxton, when he endeavours to recal the 
knights of his time to a sense of their duty, feelingly 
laments their dissolute behaviour. " O, ye knightes of 
England !" exclaims he, " where is the custome and 
usage of noble chivalry that was used in those dayes ? 
What do ye now but go to the baynes and play at dyse ? 
And some, not well advyscd, use not honest and good 
rule, again all ordre of knyghthode. Leve this, leve it, 
and lead the noble volumes of St. Graal, of Lancelot, of 
Galaad, of Trystram, of Perse Forest, of Percyval, of 
Gawayn, and many mo ; ther shal ye see manhoode, 
curtosye, and gentylness. I would deinaunde a question, 
yf I should not displease : how many knyghtes ben ther 
now in England, that have th' use and th' exercise of a 
knyghte ? that is to wite, that he knoweth his horse and 
his horse him. I suppose, and a due serche should be 
made, there sholde be many founden that iacke; the 
more pyte is. I wold it pleased our souverayne Lord, 
that twvse or thryse a-yere, or at the lest ones, be wold 
do cry justis of pies [jousts of peace], to th* ende that 
every knyghte shold have hors and barneys, and also the 
use and craft of a knyghte, and also to toumaye one 
against one, or two against two, and the best to nave a 
prys, a diamond, or jewel, such as should please the prince." 

But if the true chivalric spirit, which had before ren- 
dered the actions of knights alike gallant, honourable, 
and commendable, no longer animated them with the 
desire of rendering themselves famous for the purity and 
bravery of their enterprises, — the ambition of surpassing 
each other in dress aud the splendour of their equip- 
ments, which had now become a ruling passion with 
most young noblemen, caused them to continue in some 
degree the jousts and tournaments which in the preceding 
century had been patronised from different motives. 
Accordingly many tournaments were held in this reign, 
not so much for the purpose of exercising the knights in 
the use of arms, or to exhibit the prowess of the combat- 
ants, as to dazzle the eye with the splendour of. their ar- 
mour, the decorations of the lists, and the beauty and 
dresses of the ladies. It is therefore in this reign that 
the desire to enrich the armour with engraved work &c. 
appears to have originated, although it was not until 
some time after the period of which we now speak that 
the practice was carried to any great extent. 

The figure of Edward IV. in the Tower is in a com- 
plete suit of tournament armour of this period, exhibit- 

ing nearly all the changes and improvements which had 
taken place during the fifteenth century. These we shall 
proceed to enumerate, continuing our previous account, 
which terminated with the reign of Henry VI. 

The breastplates were now made very globular, the 
elbow-plates were worn of a great size, and large tuilles, 
terminating in a sharp angle, covered the thighs. As the 
shoes were made with very long toes, the sollerets partook 
of the same form, and were called cracowes, but by a 
statute passed in the 3 Edward IV., they were limited to 
two inches, The visored salade was the prevailing head- 
piece, helmets being seldom worn, except at tournaments, 
but the skull-caps of steel, called easquetels, which had 
been introduced in the reign of Henry VI., were gradu- 
ally acquiring popularity: these were furnished with 
round or oval plates over the ears, called orcillets> and 
sometimes with a spike at the top, called a charnel. 
The surcoat and jupon were seldom worn, but then- 
place was supplied frequently by a loose tabard of arms 
like a herald's. 

The halbert, voulge (a variety of the glaive or 
guisarme), and the zenetaure, or janetaire, a kind of 
Spanish lance, were the weapons employed at this period, 
in addition to those before mentioned ; and to these may 
be added the hand-gun, in form like a small cannon, 
fire-arnis having been introduced in the reign of Ed- 
ward III. The armour of Edward IV. in the Tower 
has the additional pieces termed grand-guard, volant- 
piece, and garde~de~bras. 

The grand-guard was a large plate of steel fastened 
over the left side of the breastplate, in form something 
like a shield, for which it was designed as a substitute. 

The volant-piece was a steel plate covering the beaver 
or lower part of the helmet, and presenting a very sharp 
angle in front. It was so difficult to strike this with 
effect, that it often formed part of the agreement at tour- 
naments that it should not be used. The garde-de-bras 
was, as its name implies, a piece designed as an addi- 
tional protection for the arm : it was screwed to the elbow- 
pieces, and extended as low as the gauntlet. 

The figure of Edward carries in its hand a long lance, 
having a vamplate of very peculiar form, and has the 
feet encased in the large stirrups of the time, which, 
covering the foot, did not require sollerets or steel shoes. 

The crimson velvet housing of the horse is powdered 
with suns and white roses, the badges of the king. 

The date of the armour is believed to be about 1470. 


[Goucluded from No. 510.] 

Thp residence of the emir of the Druses is ahout an 
hour's march from Deir-el-Kamr, and stands on a 
hill which rises in the valley like an immense natural 
tower, the summit or plateau of which is crowned by the 
palace. It consists of an extensive pile of buildings, and 
resembles in some respects the castle of a great feudal 
chieftain of the middle ages. Two thousand persons re- 
side in and about it, scribes, soldiers, slaves, retainers, 
carpenters, bricklayers, blacksmiths, and other artisans. 
Spacious courts extend from the top to the fortifications 
at the base. M. de Lamartine, who visited this place 
during his pilgrimage in the East, gives a graphic ac- 
count of its oriental character. When he visited it, the 
massive gate of the first court was guarded by Arabs 
armed with muskets and long slender swords. In one of 
the courts he saw five or six hundred Arab horses, many 
of them richly caparisoned, and fastened by the head and 
feet to ropes stretched across the court, and there were 
groups of camels within the same enclosure. In one of 
the interior courts young pages mounted were practising 
feats of horsemanship. The arrival of visitors being 
announced to the emir, they were conducted to apart- 
ments looking upon a handsome court adorned with 
arabesque pilkw, with a fountain, in the centre, whose 

Digitized by VjOOQ IC 




waters murmured in a marble basin. The windows were 
without glass, the rooms destitute of furniture ; the un- 
even floor was composed of rude earth mixed with 
chopped straw, and lizards and rats had occasionally 
taken up their abode in the decaying walls. Presently 
rush mats were brought in by slaves, who spread them 
on the floor and covered them with damask carpets, and 
afterwards refreshments were served. M. de Lamartine 
and his friends, being summoned to the presence of the 
emir, were introduced to him in a splendid saloon paved 
wiih marble, and the walls and ceiling ornamented with 
arabesques and Arabic inscriptions. Jn the corners of 
this apartment were small fountains, and in one of the 
farthest recesses, in a grated enclosure, an enormous 
tiger was reposing. Secretaries in flowing robes, Arabs 
in rich attire, and negroes and mulattoes, stood before the 
emir, who reclined on a divan at one end of the saloon, 
which was raised about a foot above the other part. The 
visitors were shown the bath?, consisting of five or six 
small ornamental rooms supplied by pipes with cold and 
tepid water, and then proceeded to the emir's stud, con- 
sisting of between two and three hundred beautiful Ara- 
bians. Some were lying in the dust in the spacious 
court, or were kept in check by iron rings fastened to long 
ropes stretched across the court, while young black slaves 
in scarlet vests were in attendance upon others. The 
evening closed with the performances of musicians, sing- 
ers, and extemporaneous bards. The scenes which M. 
de Lamartine describes are worthy of the Arabian 
Nights' Entertainments, and probably they are also rather 
too highly coloured. But Dr. Hogg, an English physi- 
cian, who visited the same place three or four years after- 
wards, gives an account of the emir's palace nearly as 
animating. Aleppo had just surrendered to Ibrahim 
Pasha, with whom the emir had formed an alliance, and 
he found the front of an extensive pile of newly-erected 
barracks thronged with soldiers^ with tbeir piles of arms, 
accoutrements, and baggage, and here and there a camp- 
fire was blazing. Swarms of attendants, soldiers, and 
peasants, with cumbrous equipments, banners, and mar- 
tial music, gave a rich confusion to the scene. In an 
inner court were two hundred mountaineers in gay and 
varied costume, with curious embossed arms, which they 
were ever and anon firing off in honour of the day. The 
emir can collect 30,000 armed men, it is said, at a very 
short notice, and for a campaign a still larger number. 

What is better than this barbaric magnificence is 
the spirit of industry which characterises the Druse po- 
pulation. Cotton and silk are the staple of their looms. 
In the towns and villages almost every family weaves 
cotton-cloth for domestic consumption, which is used for 
shirts, and, when dyed, for robes or gowns. Silk is pro- 
duced, and some quantity is exported by way of Beyrout. 
The plains produce corn and grain, and good pasturage is 
found in the upper ranges of the Libanus. The industry 
of man does much to render the soil fruitful. Wherever 
a space of twenty square feet of soil is to be found, 
it la made to produce millet and other crops, and ter- 
races are formed on the slopes to level the ground and 
prevent the earth being swept away by the rains. Here 
the' vine and the mulberry, the fig, and various other 
frtik-trees are made to flourish, trenches for irrigation 
conducting the water from the mountain summits. 
Dfe Mogg, in his tour through this country, was 
Tlted with the scenes of industry which he wit- 
We cannot help taking a glance at one or 

"of them : — " A well near the road was thronged 
with peasants of both sexes supplying water to oxen and 
thfeto. Heap3 of produce were piled round the entrance 
of' tne village. Men, women, children — all were in 
mjfement. Some were threshing and winnowing accord- 
ing to Eastern fashion, others housing the corn already 
dlftngaged from the straw. A clumsy machine, some- 
times drawn by a horse and sometimes by two bullocks, 

was driven round the threshing-floor by a man, who flou- 
rished a long goad and had often children riding, highly 
delighted, by his side." In another place he saw " large 
herds of cattle quietly feeding with troops of brood 
camels, all guarded by Bedoween attendants, whose 
simple tents were little superior to a gipsey encampment." 
And again, when on his road to the palace of the emir— 
"A brilliant sunshine threw an air of cheerfulness 
around, cultivation and care weTe everywhere visible, the 
dissonant crenk of the silk-wheel was frequently heard, 
and we joyfully hailed the exhilarating indications of ease 
and industry : the habitations, though small, exhibited an 
appearance of neatness and comfort." 

The children of the Druses are generally good looking, 
with fair complexions, red lips, fend black eyes. The 
men are handsome, well dressed, clean, and polite. 
Their usual dress is a coarse Woollen cloak, with 
white stripes, thrown over a waistcoat and loose breeches 
of the same stuff, tied round the waist by a sash ; the 
turban is flat at the top and swells out at the sides. The 
women wear a coarse blue jacket and petticoat, without 
any stockii fid hanging down in 

tails behin< adolescence they wear 

a singular tantoor.' It is a hol- 

low tube a gradually diminishing 

in thickness until u terminates m the form of a truncated 
cone. The larger end is fixed on the forehead like a 
horn, and over the smaller projecting extremity the veil 
is thrown. The ' tantoor * worn by girls is made of stiff 
paper or some similar material, but on being married the 
nridegroom presents the bride with one of silver or silver- 
tinsel. Mr. Jowett was informed that females brought up 
at Damascus and in the pities do not wear this ornament, 
which he conjectures is a relic of the ancient costume 
of the mountains. Dr. Hogg had an opportunity of 
examining the ' tantoor ' worn by the wife of his host :— 
" In length it was perhaps something more than a foot ; 
but in shape had little resemblance to a horn, being a 
mere hollow tube, increasing in size from the diameter 
of an inch and a half at one extremity to three inches at 
the other, where it terminated like the mouth of a trum- 
pet. This strange ornament, placed on a cushion, is 
securely fixed to the upper part of the forehead by two 
silk cords, which, after surrounding the head, hang be- 
hind, nearly to the ground, terminating in large tassels." 
The material was s-ilver, rudely embossed with flowers, 
stars, and other devices ; and sometimes the large tassels 
are capped with the same metal. 

Deir-el-Kamr, the capital of the Druses, is situated in 
a beautiful valley on the west of Libanus, where it slopes 
towards the Mediterranean, and is about nine hours* 
march from the coast, south-cast of Beyrout. It contains 
about 700 or 800 houses, and resembles a town of 
similar size in some parts of southern Europe. The houses 
are formed of mud, and each family occupies one or at 
most two rooms. The inhabitants are in easy circum- 
stances, but are not rich. In some parts of the country 
of the Druses the houses arc built entirely of blocks of 
stone without a particle of wood. Those at Deir-el- 
Kamr are but ill adapted to the cold and rainy season. 
Mr. Jowett, who was at this place, on the 8th of October, 
notices the approach of this season in his diary : — " In 
the morning of this day — not an hour too soon — the 
master of the house had laid in a stock of earth, which 
was carried up and spread evenly on the roof of the house, 
which is flat. The whole roof is thus formed of mere 
earth, laid on and rolled hard and flat. On the top of 
every house is a large stone roller, for the purpose of 
hardening and flattening this layer of rude soil, so that 
the rain may not penetrate." It is to grass growing on 
the house-top that the Psalmist alludes (Ps. exxix. 6). 
As the windows have no glass, the lattices are closed in 
stormy weather, and for three months in the year the 
inmates often live whole days by candle-li^ht. 

Digitized by VjO\jQ IC 





[From a Gonwpondrat] 

[CasuVof LiDebonne.— General view of Rains, Church, Ac] 

Going from Havre up the Seme you pass on your left 
the now decayed village once known as " the riche and 
mightie citie of Harfleur," and thence in little more than 
an hour the steamer brings you in front of the Cha- 
teau de Tancarville, the old abode of one branch of the 
great family of Montmorency, the Sires de Tancarville. 
Here the river suddenly contracts to one half its former 
width, hemmed in by the projecting promontory on your 
right, upon the extremity of which is placed the old 
town of Henriqueville* or Quilleboeuf. The singular 
situation of the town, its antique roofs and church towers, 
engross the attention of voyagers, and few in passing give 
more than a glance at the opposite shore, the wooded 
valley opening between the Chateau de Tancarville and 
the village of Notre Dame de Gervachon, and the dis- 
tant view of the elegant spire and ruined castle of Lille- 
bonne. But although thus passed unnoticed, Lillebonne 
possesses much that will repay the examination of the 
traveller. Its situation would be considered striking in 
any country, and is singularly lovely for a land so desti- 
tute of beauty as France in general. The town contains 
remains of Roman and baronial buildings of great interest, 
and Lillebonne was the scene of one of the most import- 
ant events in modern history. Situated about two miles 
from the eastern bank of the Seine, and approached from 
the water side by a rugged lane, the town is seldom if 
ever visited by travellers from the river ; and although 
the high road to Rouen passes through the place, the bad 
accommodation furnished by the small inns occasions 
it to be as little noticed by those who travel on land. 
We shall therefore preface our account with some par- 
ticulars of the approach to and general appearance of the 
place. Coming from H& vre the traveller descends into the 
valley of Lillebonne by a road winding through a hill- 
side coppice — what White of Selborne calls a hang< 

* Henri IV. added to the buildings of Quilleborof, and com- 
manded that the town should be called Henriqueville. But the 
royal power proved impotent to change the old well-known appel- 
lation of Quillebcenf. 

commanding on his left a view of the wooded valley and 
the streamlet winding down from Le Valasse, overlook- 
ing the pleasure-grounds of a new country-house almost 
under his feet; as he advances, another woody vale 
opens before him, and, in the middle of the wider valley, 
formed by the junction of the two others, before him lie 
the clustered houses of Lillebonne, the fretted spire rising 
above the house tops, still higher the ruined walls and 
towers of the castle, and below the town the valley open- 
ing on the broad waters of the Seine, and the high grounds 
of the opposite shore showing upon th« horizon. The 
scenery much resembles that in the valleys of South 
Devon which look upon the sea. It wants the varied 
outline and richly coloured soil of the Devonshire valleys, 
but they afford scenery that in its own kind is not 
equalled in Europe. 

An Englishman can hardly approach the abode of 
William the Conqueror — the scene of the most solemn 
and important acts of that monarch's eventful life, with- 
out feeling, even in spite of himself, his attention quickened 
and his imagination somewhat excited. The writer of 
this sketch must acknowledge that such at least was his 
case when, leaving the little Hotel des Trois Marchandes, 
he threaded his way under the market-house, and 
through the narrow streets, to the Castle of Lillebonne. 
It was probably this feeling that caused him to observe 
with peculiar interest a little square of coloured paper, 
containing a written notice commencing — " Terrein a 
fieffer," which was affixed to the door-post of a notary's 
office. It seemed strange to meet this phrase of the by- 
gone feudal time, " a fieffer," under the castle walls of him 
who had bound the feudal system upon England. After 
the lapse of centuries, and countless changes, the impress 
of his spirit seemed yet visible under the walls of his old 
abode. The castle, as you approach it from the town, is 
surrounded by a broad enclosed piece of ground, formerly 
the moat, but now used as an orchard. A long wall of 
cut stone running down on the right is surmounted by the 
shrubs and trees of a raised garden within. At the corner 

Digitized by 





next you is a small round tower, capped by a cupola-top 
of slatework, itself probably of no recent construction, but 
newer by centuries than the tower it covers. Next this is 
a high wall, once forming the side of the ancient living- 
rooms of the castle, but of which this alone remains. 
Having lost much of its original height, the rough ashler 
work at the top between the outer courses of stonework 
became exposed to the weather, and has recently been 
protected, with more care than taste, by a pent roof of 
slate. Adjoining this is the modern house, in which the 
proprietor, M. Levesque, resides ; separated from which by 
another portion of ruin is the most remarkable remain of 
the old pile, a lofty circular tower at the south-eastern 
corner of the building. It is of considerable circum- 
ference, in perfect preservation as high as the third story, 
and surrounded at the base by a circular fosse, and deco- 
rated at the top by the waving grasses and shrubs that 
have rooted amongst the loosened stonework of the higher 
parts of the structure. Next this tower, on the third side, 
from which the sketch is taken, is a large square mass of 
masonry. In this is the principal gate of approach to the 
house. This has none of the characteristics of the ap- 
proach to an ancient castle ; it appears rather to have 
oeen a way pierced through the enormous thickness of 

3ie wall after the castle ceased to be used as a place of 
efence, and in part filled up afterwards when the arch- 
way gave signs of its inability to bear the mass above. 
Next the gateway is the lofty but slender remain of an- 
other tower. On this side the towers are seen for some 
distance mixed with trees ; upon the fourth side the 
ground suddenly sinks to a depth of thirty feet ; and at 
the foot of the wall runs the road to Rouen. The space 
within the oblong enclosure is used as garden and plea- 
sure-ground for the house. In the view, the house and 
roofed wall are lost behind the circular tower. They lie 
between that and the cupola tower, which is seen at the 
farther corner. On some of the buildings are still visible 
the armorial bearings of the D'Harcourt family, who long 
possessed the property. From that family the chateau 
passed to the Princes de Croi, and was sold by them to 
the present possessor, M. Levesque. But, through all 
changes, the old castle has been ever known as Le Manoir 
de Guillaume le Conquerant. 

In 1825 the Prince de Croi, in levelling the ground 
next the fosse on the west side of the castle, discovered a 
large collection of Roman vases, rings, medals, &c, some 
distance below the surface; so that it seems probable the- 
old palace of William the Conqueror was raised on the 
remains of an older building erected by the Romans on 
the same elevated site. Few more agreeable situations 
could be found in the whole of his dominions than that 
chosen by the rough and haughty Duke William for his 
residence. His palace commanded a near view of se- 
cluded valleys and hanging woods, and caught a glimpse 
of the busy world beyond by the prospect over the cur- 
rent of the Seine. 

On learning the death of King Edward the Confessor, 
and that the Saxon Harold had assumed the English 
crown, William summoned the principal persons of Nor- 
mandy to a council in his palace at Lillebonne. In the 
hall of the castle were assembled, says the Chronicle of 
Normandy, warriors, churchmen, and merchants from all 
parts of the country. The duke explained to this assembly 
his plans for the invasion and conquest of England, and 
solicited their assistance. The assembly then retired to^ 
deliberate. The discussion was hotly maintained ; the 
members of the council left their seats, separated into 
groups, and talked and gesticulated with great noise. 
William FitzOsbert, the seneschal of Normandy, pro- 
posed that they should aid the duke with ships, provi- 
sions, and money. " For," said he, " if you refuse him, 
and he succeeds without your help, he will remember it." 
" We owe the duke no aid," said the others, " to go 
beyond sea ; he has already injured us by his wars, and 

if he fails in his new enterprise, our country is ruined." 
It was at last agreed that FitzOsbert should speak for 
them to the duke, and excuse the smallness of their 
offered aid. They returned to the duke's presence, and 
FitzOsbert, addressing him, declared that his faithful 
subjects agreed to give all he asked. " No, not so," shouted 
the others ; the disorder recommenced, the assembly dis- 
persed, and the members left the castle. The council of 
Lillebonne had apparently confounded William's schemes 
of conquest ; there should be no attempt to enslave an- 
other people; the Anglo-Saxon nation should be left 
under an Anglo-Saxon king — and England should be at 

But William called the chiefs of the meeting sepa- 
rately to his presence, and entreated each as his good 
friend to aid him in the invasion of England. What all 
were bold to refuse together, each separately yielded to 
the personal solicitations of his sovereign. With the aid 
thus at length granted by the council assembled in the 
castle of Lillebonne, William sailed for the invasion of 
England. And now, after seven centuries, the conse- 
quences of that assembly at Lillebonne may be traced in 
the constitution, the laws, language, and manners of 

Fourteen years after the conquest of England, William 
summoned another council at Lillebonne. The Norman 
bishops and barons alone attended this meeting; his 
necessities being past, William forgot the merchants. In 
this assembly were promulgated the collection of Norman 
laws known as the Statutes of Lillebonne. 

[To be continued.] 


The substance called saffron is obtained from the Crocus 
sativus, a perennial bulbous plant, much cultivated in 
some parts of Essex and Cambridgeshire, though not to 
so great an extent as formerly. This plant flowers in 
October, but in this country never produces any seeds, a 
sufficient proof that it is not indigenous here, as some have 
supposed it to be. The corolla is of a purple colour, and 
pleasantly scented : it has three stamens, terminated by 
arrow-pointed summits, and one pistil, the slender style 
of which rises to half the length of the petal, and is 
crowned with three oblong stigmata of a bright yellow 
colour, spreading asunder. These stigmata are the only 
valuable parts of the flower, and, when prepared in the 
manner we shall presently describe, form saffron. 

The Arabian name of this plant is Zahafram, and the 
terms used for the dried product in the English, French, 
Dutch, German, and Russian languages, appear to have 
been derived from that source. The medicinal virtues 
of saffron were early known to the Romans ; and we read 
of its being recommended, by the Ciiician physicians 
who attended Antony and Cleopatra, for clearing the com- 
plexion, by relieving the liver from an excess of bile. It 
was likewise made use of to allay inflammation, especially 
that of the eyes, and was considered efficacious in the re- 
moval of coughs, pleurisy, &c. We are told by Pliny 
that the plants from which the best saffron was obtained 
grew on Mount Corycus, in Cilicia ; the next in quality 
on Mount Olympus, in Lycia ; and the third quality at 
Phlegra, in Macedonia. Sicily also abounded with the 
plant ; and Sicilian saffron was much esteemed by the 
Romans, and used as a perfume. It was their custom to 
steep it in wine, and sprinkle their theatres with the in- 
fusion, so that the odour should pervade the whole of 
the building. 

The time of the introduction of the plant into this 
country is not known, but it is conjectured that the Ro- 
mans brought it with them ; and although its multipli- 
cation here cannot be so rapid as in those countries where 
it is propagated both by seeds and offsets, yet the bulbs 

Digitized by 




[March 21, 

increase considerably in number in the space of two or 
three years ; so that to make the most of a saffron planta- 
tion, it is necessary to take up the plants, separate their 
roots, and plant them afresh every three years. This 
being the case, it is not improbable that the plant gradu- 
ally spread in the neighbourhood where it was left by the 
Romans, so as to have been mistaken for a native species 
of crocus. The earliest accounts of it make mention of 
its growing near a Roman road running through Essex ; 
and in 1586 the fields about Walden, according to Cam- 
den, made a show with this plant. It is well known 
that the town of Saffron Walden derived its name from 
the early cultivation of the saffron crocus, and that it was 
formerly the chief market for saffron. 

The following is the method pursued in the cultiva- 
tion of this plant, and in the preparation of the stigmata 
for use. The soil chosen for a saffron-ground is a good 
light mould on a substratum of chalk. The land is 
exposed, and is at a distance from plantations, which 
would prevent the free passage of air. Two or three 
months are employed in the preparation of the ground, 
by manuring and frequent ploughing. This process is 
completed by Midsummer, and at the beginning of July 
the planting begins. Small narrow trenches are dug for 
the reception of the bulbs, and these are placed at about 
three inches distance from each other. The same space 
only is allowed between each trench, so that a great quan- 
tity of bulbs must be provided for the saffron-ground, 
though it does not often exceed three acres in extent. It 
is said that 128 bushels of roots are required for one 
acre. In September the young plants begin to make 
their appearance, when they are carefully weeded ; and 
in the following month the flowers appear. The owner 
of the plantation then collects a number of assistants, and 
the gathering commences early in the morning, before 
the flowers have expanded. The blossoms are thrown by 
handsful into baskets, and at eleven o'clock the work 
ceases, and the flowers are carried home. 

They are then spread upon a table ; the stigmata, 
with a portion of the style, are carefully picked out of the 
flower, and the rest is thrown away. A portable kiln of a 
peculiar construction is made use of for drying the stig- 
mata, which are laid thickly between sheets of white 
paper, and placed on a haircloth stretched over the kiln. 
When the fire is lighted, a coarse blanket, five or six 
times doubled, is. pressed down by a loaded board 
on the paper containing the saffron. The heat is at 
first strong, that the moisture of the saffron may be well 
exuded ; and when it has lasted thus for two hours, 
during which time the saffron has been turned once, the 
temperature is reduced, and a moderate heat is kept up 
for twenty-four hours, the saffron being turned every 
half-hour. It is then fit for the market. By this pro- 
cess the saffron is formed into cakes ; But when hay- 
saffron, as it is called, is to be made, the stigmata are 
dried in their separate form, aud possess a finer quality. 
Five pounds weight of fresh saffron is required to pro- 
duce one pound of dry. The first crop yields a much 
smaller supply than the two following ones, and at all 
times the produce of a saffron-ground is very precarious. 
Sometimes the returns are not sufficient to pay the expense 
of planting, hoeing, gathering, and drying. 

English saffron is superior to that which is imported 
from other countries : the blades are much broader, and 
it is more carefully dried. French or Sicilian saffron 
comes next ; but that from Spain is of a very inferior 
quality, badly dried, and greasy. It is said that a portion 
of oil is mixed with it for its better preservation. There 
are many ways of adulterating saffron, and considerable 
temptations to make use of some of them, since the price 
is rather considerable. The petals of marigold and of 
BafBower are sometimes used for this purpose ; and occa- 
sionally saffron from which the colouring matter has 

genuine. ' Fine sand is also" sometimes added to increase 
the weight. The best sort of saffron, commonly sold 
under the name of Crocus anglicus, is of a rich and detp 
orange-red, with a small admixture of paler fibres. Its 
taste is slightly bitter and aromatic, and its odour strong, 
peculiar, and diffusive. Infusions of- it should be of a 
bright and very deep golden-yellow colour. 

The medicinal effects of saffron were highly extolled in 
former times, especially its power of exhilarating the 
spirits and removing hysterical depression. An old pro- 
verb thus alludes to one of a merry disposition : — Dortnirit 
in sacco croci — " He hath slept in a bag of saffron." 
Gerard tells us that the " moderate use of it is good for the 
head, maketh the sences more quicke and lively, shaketh 
off heavie and drowsie sleepe, and maketh a man merrie." 
He also states it to be good in diseases of the lungs, and 
as a strengthener of the heart. Saffron was formerly 
worn suspended in small bags under the chins of those 
who were suffering from small- pox, as it was said to pro- 
mote the eruption and relieve the patient. It was like- 
wise recommended to be worn in sea-voyages, as a remedy 
against nausea. In Culpeper's ' Herbal ' we meet with 
the following curious account of the virtues of saffron :— 
" It is an herb of the sun, and under the lion, and there- 
fore you need not demand a reason why it strengthens 
the heart so exceedingly. Let not above ten grains be 
given at a time ; for the sun, which is the foundation of 
light, may dazzle the eyes ; and a cordial being taken in 
an immoderate quantity, hurts the heart instead of helping 
it. It quickeneth the brain, for the sun is exalted in 
Aries, as well as he hath his house in Leo." This astro- 
logical botany was much in favour in Culpeper's time. 
We may however remark that the importance of confining 
the use of saffron to small doses has been recommended 
from various quarters. Galen says that when saffron is 
used too freely, it either destroys the patient's reason or 
procures his death. Boerhaave classed saffron among 
the narcotic poisons. From modern practice it has been 
nearly rejected, as being of small medicinal efficacy and 
of considerable expense. 

Saffron is now chiefly used as a colouring material in 
several tinctures, in the syrup of saffron, and in aromatic 
confections. It is also used in cookery, and in colouring 
articles of confectionary, liqueurs, and varnishes. An 
infusion of it is often given to moulting birds ; but here 
also it should be used with caution, as too large a dose 
may prove fatal. The root of the saffron crocus is subject 
to a disease called by us the rot, by the French la morL 
This disease, which has sometimes laid waste a whole 
plantation, is found to proceed from a minute parasitical 
plant which grows on the bulb, and draws away through 
its slender filamentous roots the nourishment which 
belongs to the crocus. The only method of stopping the 
progress of this disease is said to be the digging of 
trenches between the healthy and ,the infected part of 
the field. 


[From a Correfpondeut.") 

There is probably no other bird, in a wild state, so gene- 
rally and familiarly known as the Rook, throughout the 
whole extent of our island of Great Britain ; and it has 
long been a matter of controversy amongst those best 
acquainted with their general habits, namely, farmers 
and persons employed in agricultural affairs, whether or 
not rooks are useful or detrimental to the general interests 
of the farming community. Without any prejudice 
against these gentry in glossy black, I think it must be 
admitted that their enemies have ever been more nume- 
rous than their friends; but I am inclined to believe 

that a great majority of them belong to a class of per 
already been extracted is fraudulently mixed with the sons who seldom take the trouble to trace effects to first 

Digitized by 





causes. They witness the rooks pulling up a little 
grain, or stealing a few potatoes ; and without taking 
time to reflect upon any little services they may pre- 
viously have performed, in a feeling of ignorant viudic- 
tiveness they exclaim, " The whole of the rascals ought 
to be shot !" — and declare war against them accord- 
ingly. In very severe winters they are sometimes driven 
to attack corn-stacks, but only extreme hunger will drive 
them to do this. Farmers, angry at beholding their lands 
pilfered of a little grain, or a few of the smaller 
sized potatoes (for rooks rarely attempt to fly off with 
large ones), totally forget how assiduous these very birds 
were, when the lands they now pilfer were being ploughed, 
in strutting along the furrows after the plough had turned 
up the soil — first turning their heads cunningly on one 
side, and then on the other, in search of grubs, worms, 
and insects, — letting nothing escape with life that their 
keen eyes could discover ; all of which would, in some 
degree or other, have been prejudicial to the succeeding 
crops, and hence to the interests of the farm and the 
farmer. Then again, their enemies declare that rooks 
not only pilfer the wool from the backs of their sheep, 
but that they sometimes destroy lambs, and even attack 
full-grown sheep which happen to be weak, or such as 
chance to get ' cast,' as it is called, that is, accidentally 
placed in a position with their backs lower than their 
feet, from which they are not able to rise without assist- 
ance, when it is asserted the rooks will tear out their 
eyes. Now here i3 a grand mistake, — one of those vul- 
gar errors still common in many parts of the country, and 
mainly arising from rooks being generally termed crows. 
It is well known that the carrion crow will occasionally 
attack lambs, and tear out the eyes of sheep as above 
stated (magpies will do the same thing), and hence 
arises the vulgar prejudice against all crows ; for when 
these people wish to make a distinction between the two 
sorts, rooks are called white-billed and the real carrion 
kind black-billed crows. 

Though rooks almost invariably live in communities — 
sometimes larger, and sometimes smaller— there are occa- 
sions where a pair (invariably young ones, it is believed) 
single themselves out, and, like the cunning and solitary 
magpie, build their nest alone. Not unfrequently those 
solitary nests lay the foundation for future rookeries ; for 
although many of the largest rookeries have existed in 
the places where we now find them for more than a cen- 
tury, in situations where they are much molested and 
anuoyed during the building and breeding season, it is 
no uncommon thing to find a few of them deserting then- 
old haunts, and selecting some other place, and there 
founding a new colony ; and the largest colonies of rooks 
are necessarily broken up when the trees that have 
borne their nests are cut down. When rooks build 
in trees that have not attained their full growth, 
there can be no doubt but the timber is somewhat in- 
jured by them, for when building new nests, or repair- 
ing the old ones, they break off the young shoots and 
small branches that happen to be near at hand and suited 
to their purpose, by which means the growth of the tim- 
her is more or less retarded and injured. 

Long and careful observation of the rooks has fully 
proved that parties composed of the same individual 
rooks daily leave the rookery together and repair to their 
ordinary haunts; while other parties take a contrary 
direction, never interfering, apparently, with each other's 
districts of feeding- ground. Another peculiarity is very 
striking, namely, that after leaving the rookery they do 
not take an accidental course, as it were, in their flight, 
hut have a particular track they daily travel by, 
scarcely deviating to the right hand or the left, unless 
driven out of their course by some violent storm or 
tempest, — and even then, by lowering their flight, and 
skimming along the surface of the ground, they com- 
ttwnly contrive to keep within a trifling distance of their 

ordinary track. They frequently journey several miles 
before they halt at all; indeed, their morning flight often 
takes them to the extreme extent of their customary 
haunt, from whence, after resting and seaching for food, 
they begin to draw towards home by short and varied 
flights ; being engaged several hours during the day in 
catering for a somewhat precarious subsistence. It is a 
rare circumstance to find two parties of rooks belonging 
to different rookeries feeding in the same vicinity ; appa- 
rently not being disposed to encroach upon each other's 
haunts. Private quarrels occasionally take place among 
themselves, for it is quite a common occurrence to witness 
a couple of rooks pouncing upon each other, particularly 
in their evening flights towards their roosting-place. 
Quarrels likewise take place in the rookery during the 
building season ; and the rapidity with which they de- 
molish each other's nests is truly astonishing. It would 
seem that they have certain laws or regulations by which 
their colony is governed, respecting the limits, &c. to 
which their nests may extend. On several occasions I 
have watched their proceedings in this respect, and have 
known a few of them to assemble and attack and pull to 
pieces any nest that some young or foolish colonist had 
constructed outside the limits. I have also seen a pair 
of rooks persevere and rebuild their nest two or three 
times ; but it was always in vain, for the general com- 
munity teemed determined to coerce into obedience any 
wilful or perverse member. 

That they are strongly attached to their usual haunts 
is very evident, for even after they have been attacked 
with fire-arms, day after day, and several of them killed 
or wounded, they will return again and again, though 
evidently more shy and distrustful ; and should they, 
after cautiously examining the scene, discover no enemy 
near, they will then commence a search for food upon the 
very ground of their previous disasters. Neither do we find 
that they desert those rookeries where it is annually the 
custom to shoot the- greater portion of the young rooks : 
a day's rook-shooting on some gentleman's domain is 
looked upon by many of the ueighbouriug farmers as a 
sort of set-off against any damage their crops may have 
sustained from the rooks during the previous season. 

It is a pretty general opinion with country-people, that 
at whatever farm a colony of rooks establish them&elves 
and form a rookery, it is a certain omen of prosperity 
and good luck to the occupier of the land, whether 
he be owner or only tenant; and on the contrary, 
that when a colony of rooks quit and desert a regu- 
larly established rookery without any apparent cause, 
their desertion betokens poverty and misfortune to 
those who reside on the premises. These opinions, of 
course, are founded in error, like many of a similar 
character that we still find prevailing in country places ; 
they are the remnants of the superstition of past ages. 

One of the largest rookeries to be met with in the 
north of England is that at Dallam Tower, near Miln- 
thorp in Westmoreland, the seat of George Wilson, Esq. 
And what renders this large rookery peculiarly remark- 
able is, its close proximity to a heronry. In fact the 
rooks and herons both occupy the same extensive grove, 
their nests, however, not at all intermingling with each 
other. The annexed account of them was drawn up by 
a gentleman of undoubted veracity who resided in the 
vicinity,* and there can be no doubt of its general cor- 
rectness, since I have heard many of the oldest of the 
inhabitants relate the same circumstances, individuals 
who lived close by during the time of the war, as they 
called it, between the two parties. The following is the 
account alluded to : — 

" There were two groves at Dallam Tower adjoining 
to the park, one of which for many years had been 
resorted to by a number of herons, which there built and 

• Dr. Heysham of Carlisle, published iu Bewick's \JiirtU, 
vcl. ii, p. 11. 

Digitized by 




[March 21, 1840 

"bred. The other was one of the largest rookeries in the 
country. The two tribes lived together for a long time 
without any disputes. At length the trees occupied by 
the herons, consisting of some very fine old oaks, were 
cut down in the spring of 1775, when the young brood 
perished by the fall of the timber. The parent birds 
immediately set about preparing new habitations in order 
to breed again, but as the trees in the neighbourhood of 
their late nests were only of a late growth, and not suffi- 
ciently high to secure them from the depredations of boys, 
they determined to make a settlement in the rookery. 
The rooks made an obstinate resistance, but after a very 
violent contest, in the course of which many of the rooks 
and some of the herons their antagonists lost their lives, 
the herons at last succeeded in their attempt, built their 
nests, and brought out their young. 

" The next season the same contests took place, which 
terminated, like the former, by the victory of the herons. 
Since that, peace seems to have been agreed upon between 
them. The rooks have relinquished that part of the 
wood the herons occupy. The herons confine themselves 
to those trees they first seized upon, and the two species 
live together in as much harmony as they did before the 

The above account was written many years ago, but 
from its date up to the present time nothing very remark- 
able has happened between these two colonies at Dallam 
Tower. The rooks occupy all that part of the grove or 
wood fronting the park and road leading to and past the 
mansion, while the herons seem perfectly contented to 
occupy the rear part of the grove, which is very retired and 
secluded, and apparently better suited to the solitary habits 
and views of these birds. Notwithstanding the herons 
are neither molested while young, nor any of them 
shot, as happens yearly to the young rooks, nor 
hunted by tame hawks and falcons, as was the case in 
olden times, yet the colony at Dallam Tower has scarcely 
varied in the number of nests during the last fifty years. 
This is the more remarkable, as they do not, like 
the rooks, occasionally commit depredations upon the 
farmer's crops, for which they are doomed to suffer 
death; since their haunts are the sedgy brooks and 
rivers in the silent meads, or the boggy ditches so 
numerous iu the morasses or peat-mosses adjoining the 
head of the neighbouring (estuary, Morecambe Bay, near 
to which the heronry is situated. Formerly, indeed, 
they were more commonly and wantonly shot than they 
are now, when the use of fire-arms is more restricted than 
was once the case. Not that they were considered of any 
value, for the lower orders of the inhabitants of those 
parts would far sooner think of eating an old tough rook 
than a heron, provincially called a heron-sew. 

Though rooks usually select a grove of deciduous or 
leaf- shedding trees in which to form a colony, they never- 
theless do not object to evergreens ; since at Old Hall, 
distant about four miles from Dallam Tower, there is a 
rookery of some magnitude in some rows of Scotch firs 
of very moderate size and elevation. 

A Hint to Coffee Growers and Drinkers.— The plant 
which produces the Mocha coffee is the same as the West 
Indian ; the only difference is in the mode of rearing it and 
the process of cultivation ; but the difference in the quality of 
the coffee, I should think, depends chiefly on the mode of 


reparinsj the produce for the market in the West Indies. 

n Jamaica, when the berries become of a deep red colour, 
they are picked from the plant; and as the industry of the 
negro is estimated by the quantity he picks in a day, a good 
deal of unripe coffee is generally mixed with that which is 
fully mature. In Arabia, the produce is gathered by 
shaking the ripe berries from the plant, and then exposing 
them to the sun with the husks on till they are dried, after 
which the outer husk is removed, and they are again dried 
in the sun ; but the husk is not removed till the coffee is 
required for the market: but in the mean time it is kept in 

bags on elevated platforms, to allow a free circulation of air 
to prevent its absorbing moisture and consequently heating. 
The plan in Jamaica is just the opposite to this: the husk 
is removed too early, and the coffee is exported too soon. 
Perhaps the dampness of the climate, and the difficulty of 
drying, arising from the suddenness of the fall of rain, 
may render it necessary to adopt this mode. But there is 
another circumstance on which the inferiority of the West 
India coffee may depend. Dr. Mosely observes, and I be- 
lieve correctly, that •• coffee berries are remarkably disposed 
to imbibe exhalations from other bodies, and thereby ac- 
quire an adventitious and disagreeable flavour." The ex- 
halations from rum, sugar, and pimento, with which produce 
coffee is frequently exported from the West Indies, cannot 
fail to be injurious to a substance whose aroma is so ex- 
ceedingly delicate as coffee ; and perhaps housekeepers are 
not sufficiently aware of the necessity of keeping coffee, in 
substance as well as in powder, in vessels closely shut and 
separate from spices and other domestic stores. — Maddens 
West Indies. 

The Pilgrim's Road through the Desert.— The high road 
to Mecca (from Cairo) was indicated by a white border of 
blanched bones — a strange sight, indeed, that set our curio 
sity on the qui vive. I called out to my guide, but he in 
tercepted the question I was about to put to him, for the 
astonishment my very look expressed was an index to him 
of what was uppermost in my thoughts. " The dromedary," 
said he, placing himself beside me as I rode forward, " is 
far from being so unquiet and mettlesome a creature as the 
horse. He journeys onwards without halting or eating or 
drinking, and leaves you to discover of yourself when he is 
ailing, or craving food, or exhausted. The Arab, who de- 
tects the roaring of a lion, or the neighing of a horse, or 
the step of a man, at so inconceivable a distance, has no 
other key to his € haghin's ' condition than the shortness or 
slowness of his breathing: none has ever heard him vent a 
note of complaint. But when he is about to sink under 
exhaustion or can no longer hold up against privation, and 
finds life at its last ebb, the poor dromedary falls on his 
knees, stretches his neck out, and closes his eyes, an infal- 
lible hint to his rider that all is over with him. What is 
to be done ? The rider, well aware that the animal never 
kneels down out of laziness or from disinclination to toil 
on, makes no attempt to get him up again, but takes off his 
saddle, lays it across some other dromedary's back, and 
leaves the creature to his fate. At night the jackal and 
hyaena, allured by the effluvia, hurry to the spot, and tear 
the wretched animal to pieces, leaving not a vestige of his 
carcass behind them but the bones. We are travelling 
along the high road from Cairo to Mecca ; caravans for this 
last place go and come back by this route twice a year, and 
the bones that line it accumulate so rapidly and are 
replaced with such abundant regularity, as to baffle the 
storms of the desert, which would otherwise scatter them 
far and wide. They serve as a guide to the wayfarer to 
find his way to the wells and oases, where he may refresh 
in the shade and slake his thirst, and are a clue to his pro- 
gress until he reaches the very tomb of the Prophet. The 
bones before you are not merely the bones of dromedaries 
who perish in the desert, for you will perceive a smaller 
kind of bones among them, and these are the bones of the 
Faithful who have set out, in obedience to the Prophet's 
injunctions, on their pilgrimage to Mecca, but having 
wasted their days on the cares and vanities of this world, 
and postponed their obedience until their sun was about to 
set, have been called hence to close their pilgrimage in 
heaven. Many a one has fallen asleep when he ought to 
have kept his eyes open ; one has fallen from his saddle 
and broken his neck ; and when you come to add to these 
casualties the plague, which frequently thins the caravan's 
ranks, and the simoom, which carries numbers off, you will 
have no difficulty in accounting for the preservation of a 
line of landmarks which show children the path which 
their fathers have trodden." — Dumas and DouzaVs Quinze 
Jours au Sinai. 

%• The Office of the Societv for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge U m 
69, Lincoln'* Inn Fields. 

Printed by William Clowxs and 80m, Stamford Street, 
Digitized by UOOQ IC 



Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. 



[March 28, 1840. 


[Arab Dance and Costume.— From De Laborde's 'Syria.'] 

Dancing is capable of expressing so many different feel- 
ings, that we do not wonder to find it practised among 
nations of every variety of character and in every state of 
civilization. The natives of Australia, who are in the 
lowest stage of humanity, find in their peculiar dance, 
called the M corrobora," a rude enjoyment resembling in 
some degree that which a dramatic entertainment affords 
to a more intellectual people. The dances of savage 
nations are also the medium by which they express 
defiance of their enemies or the triumph which crowns 
their battles with success. " The poetry of motion," for 
such dancing has been termed, is significant of religious 
feelings, of joy, love and hatred, of social harmony, and 
gracefulness of spirit ; and next to speech' it is the most 
ancient means by which these varied movements of the 
soul were displayed. Touching the connection of dancing 
with the ceremonies of religion, we must be careful in not 
drawing hasty conclusions. The editor of the * Pictorial 
Bible' (vol. i., p. 667), remarks : " We must not always 
conclude an act to have a religious intention because it 
always take place in the season of a religious festival, 
any more than the festal observances of Easter and Christ- 
mas may be considered to form any essential part of the 
celebration. A festival occurs; and after attending to 
its prescribed observances, people fall upon their custom- 
ary recreations, particularly when the festal season is of 
several days' duration." 

Of dancing amongst the Jews the same writer gives 
the following account : — " Dancing seems to have been a 
very general recreation among the Jews — the sexes danc- 
ing apart, both in their ordinary entertainments and 
Vol. IX 

greater festival occasions. Dances were also sometimes 
performed more distinctly on a religious account. Thus 
Miriam and the women of Israel celebrated with music, 
songs, and dancing, the overthrow of the Egyptians ; and 
thus David c danced before the ark with all his might,' 
when it was conveyed to Jerusalem in triumph from the 
house of Obed-edom. Dancing accompanied with music 
was, in fact, among the Jews and other ancient nations a 
general mode of expressing joy and exultation, whether reli- 
gious, secular, or domestic ; but among some other nations it 
was more formally and distinctly associated with religious 
worship than among the Jews, whose dances did not 
form any part of their worship, but was an act of joy on 
particular occasions, some of which were religious. The 
distinction is important." After some further remarks 
the writer continues : — " In the time of our Saviour, all 
the elders, the members of the Sanhedrin, the rulers of 
the synagogues, and the doctors of the schools, and other 
persons deemed venerable for their age and piety, danced 
together in the court of the Temple, to the sound of the 
Temple music, every evening while the Feast of Taber- 
nacles lasted. The balconies around the court were 
crowded with women, and the ground with men, as spec- 
tators." Dr. Jennings, in his c Jewish Antiquities,' says, 
somewhat irreverently — " All the sport was to see these 
venerable fathers of the nation skip and dance, clap their 
hands and sing; and they who played the foot most 
egregiously, acquitted themselves with the most honour." 
The ceremony was in commemoration of David's dancing 
before the ark. 

The connection of the mimetic dance of the ancients 


Digitized by 




[Maicr 2^ 

with the services and most sacred mysteries of heathenism 
are touched upon in an erudite little work by the Rev* 
Robert Nares, written when a young man, and entitled 
• Remarks on the Ballet of Cupid and Psyche.' The 
dance, he observes, being used in the service of religion, 
acquired a dignity which in modern times it never pos- 
sessed. " Apollo, in a passage of Pindar, is called c the 
Dancer ;' and there is a Greek line extant which repre- 
sents Jupiter himself in the very act of dancing. Even 
at Rome, where the dance was on the whole much less 
respected, the priests of Mars were, from their customary 
and solemn dances, denominated * salii' (from salio)" Mr. 
Nares says that Aristotle ranked the imitative dance with 
the art of poetry ; Plutarch considered it worthy of dis- 
tinct discussion ; and Lucian preferred it to the speaking 
drama. Mr. Nares quotes Athenaeus, who says—" The 
Greeks had brought their dances to such perfection in 
the art of imitating the passions, that the most eminent 
sculptors thought their time not ill employed in studying 
and designing the attitudes of public dancers; and to 
this study (he adds) they owed, undoubtedly, some of the 
transcendent beauties of their works." 

The modern ballet of the opera-houses of London, 
Paris, and Italy has lost the gracefulness and dignity of 
the ancient orchestic drama, and is now reduced to a 
" divertissement" without subject or connection. " Even 
good grouping is generally neglected ; and vaulting, 
spinning, and distortion of limb threatening dislocation 
are the only exhibitions that gain any applause, and con- 
sequently the only attainments to which a performer's 
labours are directed."* 

In Eastern countries there are considerable numbers 
of musicians and dancers in the towns, who acquire o 
livelihood by atteuding for hire public entertainments 
and occasions of rejoicing. The music is performed by 
men, and the dancers are females ; and the guests and 
members of a family, instead of joining the festivity in an 
active manner, as with us, are simply auditors ana spec- 
tators. Niebuhr, who is an excellent authority on the 
customs of the East, remarks in his * Travels * that " a 
respectable Mohammedan who should indulge in dancing 
would disgrace himself in the estimation of his country- 
men;" and "among the Turks and Arabs, a man of 
rank would think it a disgrace to learn music." M. 
Niebuhr and one of his companions were in the habit of 
occasionally amusing themselves with playing on the 
violin, and as it was thought they were musicians by pro- 
fession, a rich merchant sent for them to his house to 
play for his entertainment. The invitation being declined, 
be came himself, when the two travellers played several 
airs for his gratification, and on parting he offered them 
each a piece of money, which was declined to his great 
astonishment, for the Arabs never refuse presents, " and 
he could not conceive what inducement any person could 
have to learn music, if not to gain by it." 

In further illustration of our subject we again draw 
upon the varied stores of Eastern manners and customs 
contained in the ' Notes' to the « Pictorial Bible.' In the 
note to v. 19, c. 12 of the Book of Judges, which relates 
to the stratagem adopted by the Benjamites, who, in order 
to obtain wives, laid in wait for the women of Shiloh 
on their coming to dance and enjoy themselves in a 
place where they were accustomed to resort on occasions 
of religious festivity, the author [jives the following in- 
teresting information: — "The Orientals generally have 
no places in their towns where assemblies may be held 
for festivity and dancing. It is therefore customary to 
hold such assemblies in some pleasant places in the 
neighbourhood, in the gardens and plantations, or in 
small valleys, if there be any. This is a favourite plan 
of the women when they desire to enjoy themselves. 
There are certain occasions of annual recurrence in 
which the women are allowed this indulgence in the 

, • • Penny Cyclopwdia,' art. Ballbt. 

fullest extent, and thus they form large parties which go 
out to amuse themselves with music, dancing, and such 
other recreations as are common among females. The 
approaches to the place where they assemble are now 
usually guarded by eunuchs, to prevent intrusion. The 
different saxes never participate in each other's amuse- 
ments ; this was the case in the times of the Bible; for 
we never read of any amusement or festivity in which 
they mingled. The Oriental women have a great passion 
for suburban festivities, and have many contrivances for 
securing its enjoyment." Traces of this Oriental habit 
exist in Malta, and the right of attending festivals of this 
kind is usually stipulated before marriage. It is the cus- 
tom at Aleppo to send the women out into the neighbour- 
ing gardens and plantations when an earthquake is ap- 
prehended ; and not long since they hired an astrologer 
to go to the pasha to predict such an event, when they 
succeeded in obtaining the indulgence of a holiday ; but 
the trick having become known through the exultation of 
the ladies, the astrologer lost his head. 

The women have also their in-door amusements in 
dancing. They frequently dance before their husbands 
for their amusement ; and they vie with each other in 
dancing among themselves ; and this is customary both 
in Turkey and Arabia, as well as Syria. No males are, 
of course, present at these times ; but a person from 
Tripoli, who had the account from his wife, gave M. 
Niebuhr some information on the latter point, which we 
subjoin, as the English translation of this excellent tra- 
veller is but little known :• — " If the entertainment happen 
to be in the house of a family of rank, fifty of the greatest 
beauties in the city assemble, all dressed out in great 
splendour. In then- train they bring their handsomest 
slaves, who attend in a separate room to take care of the 
coffers containing their mistress's clothes. After the 
ladies have been seated for some time, and have been 
served with refreshments, young girls are called in to di- 
vert the company with vocal and instrumental music. 
The most distinguished lady in the company then rises, 
dances for a few miuutes, and passes into the next apart- 
ment, where her slaves are in waiting to change her dress. 
She lays all aside, even her slippers, embroidered with 
gold and silver, and retains only her head-dres and 
bracelets, which are richly ornamented with jewels. In 
the meantime the rest dance, and in their turns leave the 
room to change their dress ; and this is successively re- 
peated, so long, that a lady will sometimes change her 
dress ten times in one night, and put on so many different 
suits, every one richer than another. " Any details ob- 
tained in the manner these were collected might be true 
or otherwise ; but of course M. Niebuhr had corroborative 
evidences of probability, and he mentions that the Greek 
women had fully adopted this Eastern style of luxury 
and display. 

Our cut, however, taken from De Laborde"s wotte, re- 
presents a man dancing. This is a rare occurrence in the 
East, and as the letter-press accompanying M. de La- 
borde's pictorial illustrations is not yet published, wc 
despaired of obtaining any trustworthy information ou a 
case which comparatively few even of those who have 
travelled in the East have met with. This difficulty, how- 
ever, happening to become known to a friend intimately 
acquainted with Eastern countries by residence and travel, 
he has been kind enough to furnish the following note, 
without which, we must confess, it would not have been 
possible to have given any satisfactory information on the 
subject of the illustration :^-"Boys and youths, disguised 
as women, dance, but men in their proper character very 
rarely. In fact, it is not generally considered a creditable 
accomplishment for a man. I do not know of a single 
authority for an Arab dance of men ; but I have myself 
seen what seems the same dance which the cut represents. 

• ' Travels through Arabia/ Ac, translated by R. Heron, 2 vol*. 
Perth, 1799. 

Digitized by 





In a voyage down the Tigris, it was usual to * lie-to ' 
during the night, and also occasionally by day, under 
particular circumstances. As much of the voyage was 
performed by tracking, there was a considerable body of 
Arabs connected with the vessel. They managed to pass 
their evenings very pleasantly, forming a very picturesque 
group, in the fore part of the vessel. Sometimes one of 
their number, and then another (but only one at a time), 
danced in the midst of them. It was tome time before I 
discovered that it was intended for a dance, the motions 
being rather those of an animated speaker, or of an actor, 
than of a dancer. There was more motiou with the arms 
and the body than with the feet. There was no musical 
instrument among the men, but they beat time with their 
hands with much animation, slapping them together. I 
observed that, in the first instance, the man who danced 
threw over hi aich had 

recently beei was then 

cooking for m at Arabs 

are unusually I in pre- 

paration. A dding is 

not a happier s felicity 

than the Ara lutton or 

goat's flesh it iave also 

a war-dance, nstances, 

they work thi citement 

before commencing em wav*. * never a»w mis men* 
tioned in books, but I know it to be true." 


In a recent Number (507) we directed attention to the ad- 
vantages which had been experienced in several of our large 
towns by exhibitions of Mechanics' Institutes, in which 
works of art and natural curiosities, plans and models, and 
other objects of interest, were collected together for a limited 
period, and shown to visitors at a very moderate sum. We 
thought such a plan might be followed by many small 
towns in which Mechanic* Institutes were established ; but 
it did not strike us at the time that an interest of a similar 
nature might be created in districts purely agricultural by 
annual competitions in the various branches of rural indus- 
try and the arts which are immediately connected with 
them. In the Olenkens, a retired district of the stewartry 
of Kirkcudbright, in Scotland, containing a rural population 
amounting to 4000 souls, a plan of this kind has been 
adopted which might with great advantage be acted upon 
in England. A society commenced in 1830, called the 
Glenkens Society, has established annual competitions 
amongst the young men, and the result has been to promote 
a scientific as well as practical knowledge of their respective 
pursuits. The Report of the Glenkens Society shows not 
only the novelty, but the success of the plan :— 

** For a number of years we have had annual competitions 
of joiners' apprentices, assigning a two-inch mortise and 
tenon at right angles as the task of the junior class, and a 
mortise and tenon at an angle of 45 deg. for the senior class. 
We also instituted an annual competition of blacksmiths' 
apprentices in the operation of norse-shoeing. In the 
opinion of all the tradesmen of the country, these compe- 
titions have been productive of the greatest benefit. Such 
is the importance attached to them, that on three several 
occasions joiners' apprentices have come to them from jobs 
in which they were engaged, at a distance of eighteen or 
twenty miles; and on the suggestion of one of our most in- 
telligent master blacksmiths, we have further instituted an 
annual competition in flat filing* which has proved quite as 
satisfactory. In fact, we believe no agricultural district of 
the kingdom is now supplied with better tradesmen. One 
of our master carpenters has been contractor for various 
works of considerable extent, and given perfect satisfaction 
to his employers ; ind some of our young men have gone to 
Manchester, and even there have been considered excellent 

"The prises given by us to both classes of joiners, and 
also to the class of blacksmiths for flat filing, have alwavs 
consisted of works on mechanics, requiring a considerable 

knowledge of mathematics in order to be read with profit. 
Our tradesmen were, in general, quite unacquainted with 
this branch of study when our competitions commenced ; 
but, since that period, they have given themselves to ma- 
thematical studies in private, with such energy, that our 
books are now perused by them with much interest ; no 
doubtful proof, we humbly apprehend, of the excellence of 
the foundation which has been laid at school. 

"We have had an annual plough ing-match, which has 
been attended by about thirty ploughs. The whole popula- 
tion have turned out on these occasions, and given proof of 
the estimation in which these contests aie held by liberal 
contributions, which have been increasing every year. They 
have had the same effect with us as everywhere else. The 
display of implements, harness, and cattle has been alike 
creditable to the district, and we are informed by judges 
that there is a visible imnrovement in the cultivation of the 
land. One circumstam \ showing the 

proficiency which may be sans at a very 

early age. Two years aj pas won by a 

lad little more than fouru w , /mu , *,, « 6 », ...d this year, at 
the age of little more than sixteen, the same young man 
has proved himself the best ploughman in a field of thirty- 

"We have also had competitions in spade-work and dyke- 
building,* and the awards in both gave perfect satisfaction. 
But our dyke-builders are much spread over the country, 
and our premiums have hardly been of sufficient amount to 
collect them." 

Canal Wngh~Lock.*-The object of the greatest interest 
to me in Utica was a weigh-look, an American invention, if 
I am not mistaken. The toll for freight on the canal is 
proportionate to weight. To arrive at the weight of a cargo, 
gauges are commonly used: this is the process of weighing, 
for instance, in England : another means is used here. A 
steelyard on a gigantic scale is constructed; the scale, 
formed in a manner that the bottom of a vessel fits conve- 
niently in it, hangs by three pairs of iron rods on a strong 
iron beam, which rests and plays on three nice points of 
steel. To this large iron beam another is fastened perpen- 
dicularly in a horizontal plane, forming the arm from which 
the scale destined for the weights depends. The whole is 
so balanced, that one pound in this latter scale balances 
one hundred pounds in the large scale ; and, with such a 
degree of nicety is the whole machinery made, that quarter 
pounds are used as weights, which of course counterbalance 
twenty- five pounds in the large scale. This hangs down 
into a small basin communicating with the canal, with 
which it can be disconnected by a lock. Whenever a boat 
is to be weighed, the lock is opened, and the vessel floats 
into the basin between the iron rods of the scale, which is 
now under its bottom. The lock is closed, and by another 
lock the water is discharged from the basin, so that within 
a short time the whole boat hangs dry in the scale. Weights 
are now placed in the weighing scale ; the original burden 
of the boat, the testimony of which every boatman carries 
with him, is deducted from the gross weight, and the toll is 
paid accordingly. The weight of the boat and cargo on 
which I saw the operation performed was sixty-two tons, or 
136,000 pounds: much heavier cargoes, however, are 
weighed. When the whole was balanced, I was able lite- 
rally to move by my little finger 136,000 pounds up and 
down. When the lock has admitted again a sufficient 
quantity of water, and the boat is once more set afloat, the 
first lock is opened, and the boat floats out The operation 
of weighing, which I witnessed, lasted, from the time the 
boat entered the lock to its sailing out again, nine minutes ; 
but three or four minutes must be deducted, as the weigh- 
master had to fetch a lantern, it having grown dark. He 
assured me that when the people on board the boat under- 
stood the details of the whole operation, and no unnecessary 
delay takes place, he can weigh any boat in less than four 
minutes. I could not learn the name of the author of this 
invention, the more interesting as it is the bold application 
of a simple principle known to everyone.— Francis Lieber'i 
Stranger in America. 

• Stone fences are called dykes in S cotlan d and some parts of 
the north of England. 

Digitized by 






ft from No. IU 

[Remains of the Roman Amphitheatre at Lillebonne.J 

In the commencement of this sketch we mentioned 
that Lillebonne abounded in Roman antiquities. Many 
statues, medals, &c, dug up on this spot, are now depo- 
sited in the museums of Rouen and Paris. There are 
some remains of baths, and on an height to the south of 
the castle, commanding all the three valleys, is a Roman 
encampment in perfect preservation. Below the castle, 
on the side towards the Seine, and close by the road to 
Rouen, are the remains of a Roman circus.* An in- 
clined road made of the rubbish and ruins of the old 
building, leads down from the highway into the arena, 
the level of which appears clearly marked by some pave- 
ment in one of the ancient entrances of the circus. The 
shape of the ruin is nearly semicircular ; three tiers of 
seats rise one- above another, and above the highest of 
the three the wall rises for a few feet in broken masses. 
On each side of the circus is an opening leading into a kind 
of side chamber, which appears to have been roofed, but 
has no outlet except that into the arena. This curious 
remain was entirely overgrown with wood ; but a few 
years since the government purchased the wood, cut it 
down, and excavated the ground so as to expose the ruin 
to view. 

Lillebonne was the capital of the ancient Caletes, who 
inhabited the modern Pays de Caux. After the conquest 
of Gaul by the Romans, Lillebonne became a place of 
importance, under the name of Julia Bona, or Juliobona, 
whence its modern name Lillebonne appears to be de- 
rived. Six Roman roads met at Julia Bona: 1st, from 
Rouen; 2nd, from the Roman Caracotinum, near the 
modern town of Harfleur; 3rd, from Boulogne; 4th, 
from the Roman Breviodurum, now Pont Audemer, on 
the other side of the Seine; 5th, fromEvreux; 6th, a 
Roman road to the seaside, near the modern town of 
Fecamp. The Caletian capital, the Roman station of 

* The French antiquaries, who hare better opportunities of 
examining thU ruin than any passing traveller can hare, declare 
that this building was a circus. 

Julia Bona, the favourite ducal residence, has long since 
sunk into insignificance. Lillebonne is now a little vil- 
lage : its close streets have recently been thronged by the 
workmen of the manufactories (of Prussian blue and 
printed cottons) that have ju6t sprung up on the banks of 
the little Riviere de Bolbec, which flows by the town. 
And such is the want of all communication by land or 
water from Lillebonne to the Seine, that English coal 
passes in front of the town up the Seine, is landed twenty 
or thirty miles higher up the stream, and brought back 
again by land-carriage for the use of the manufactories 
at Lillebonne. 

In addition, therefore, to the more immediate interest 
which the remains of the ancient residence of William the 
Conqueror are calculated to inspire, Lillebonne is connected 
with ages yet more remote. The pageantry of these two 
thousand years, if it could pass before the traveller who 
visits this place, would disclose to him scenes which 
would teach him how fugitive are things which once 
seemed impressed with the seal of immutability. The 
thick forests which witnessed the rites of the Druids have 
disappeared ages ago, and only now and then the plough- 
share brings to light a relic of the Roman city or 
the broken spur of a knight of the middle ages. The 
reflections which such occurrences suggest are apt to be- 
come vague, and we Bhall therefore endeavour to give 
a brief sketch of the Roman period in the history of this 
portion of France, which formed part of the Gallia or 
Gaul of ancient history. 

Little was known of this part of Europe until the time 
of Caesar, who found it principally occupied by three races 
— theBelgae, who inhabited the north and north-east; the 
Celts, living in the west, the centre, and the south; and 
the Aquitani, who dwelt in the south-western parts. The 
Celts were probably the most ancient inhabitants, and it 
is believed that they settled in the country about 600 b.c. 
To this country the Romans turned their conquering 
arms, and so early as 104 b.c. their armies were signally 
defeated. Julius Csesar, however, reduced the whole coun* 

Digitized by 





try about fifty years before the commencement of tbe 
Christian sera, and thus made himself more or less master 
of the territory comprised between the Pyrenees, the 
Alps, the Rhine, and the ocean. Augustus, his successor, 
divided it into separate parts according to its physical 
geography and the natural distinctions of the inhabitants. 
The district in which Lillebonne is situated was in Bel- 
gica, which extended from the Seine to the Rhine. 

The Roman sway, though firm, was tolerant in spirit, 
and the countries subjected to it usually became prosper- 
ous ; but in Gaul the power of the Druid priesthood was 
so directly inimical to the Roman domination, that, as 
Gibbon remarks, " under the specious pretext of abolish- 
ing human sacrifices, the emperors Tiberius and Claudius 
suppressed the r of the Druids, next the 

priests themse: emd their altars subsisted 

in peaceful o final destruction of pa- 

ganism." Bui oppressed by the greedy, 

ignorant, and parity which has distin- 

guished less enlightened conquerors, and cities sprung up 
in Gaul which rivalled those of Italy. Marseilles, Aries, 
Nismes, Toulouse, Lyon, Bordeaux, and some others 
might, according to Gibbon, so far imitated the ele- 
gance and wealth of Italy as to sustain an equal com- 
parison with the state of these places at the time he wrote 
his famous history. The chief Roman cities of Belgica 
were Treves, Metz, Verdun, Beauvais, Amiens; Boulogne,* 
Arras, St. Quentin, Soissons, Senlis, Rheims, Chalons, 
Strasburg, Mayence, Leyden, Cologne. The total num- 
ber of cities which Gaul could boast of is said to have 
been twelve hundred, but the number is probably exag- 
gerated, and some of these cities, particularly in the 
northern parts, not even excepting Paris, were " little 
more than the rude and imperfect townships of a rising 
people.'** Some of them, as already observed, soon be- 
came adorned and embellished with public buildings, 
temples, theatres, and baths. 

It was also a part of the Roman policy to construct 
roads in the countries which they subjugated. These 
facilitated the march of the legions, and enabled them to 
concentrate their forces with great rapidity upon any 
point on which their power was threatened. From the 
forum of Rome roads commenced which, traversing Italy, 
penetrated the most distant provinces, and only termi- 
nated at the extremities of the empire. Au embank- 
ment formed for laying down a railway, if it were wider 
and paved with stone, would resemble one of these 
roads, which were constructed in the most careful man- 
ner, of substantial materials, and in the neighbourhood 
of the capital were paved with granite. They connected 
one city with another and all with Rome, and ran in a 
direct line from one place to another, the distances be- 
tween each being marked by mile-stones. Mountains 
and rivers were no impediments, for the former were 
cut through and bridges were thrown across the latter. 
These roads were traversed by couriers on public business 
as regularly and with as much despatch as the post in 
many parts of Europe in the present day. Relays were 
always provided at houses erected five or six miles from 
each' other, at which forty horses were obliged to be 
constantly kept ; and thus, from the wall of Antoninus 
in the north of Britain, to Rome, and from thence to 
Jerusalem, a distance altogether of 3740 English miles, it 
was easy to travel at the rate of one hundred miles a day. 
: But it was not in creating merely the skeleton of a 
System of civilization that the Romans benefited Gaul. 
They introduced the vine into the southern provinces; 
and though in the time of Strabo the cold of the northern 
provinces was so intense that it was considered the grape 
would not ripen, yet this was not long considered an 
obstacle. The olive was in like manner transplanted into 
Gaul, and the cultivation of flax was introduced from 
Egypt. For several centuries the arts of Rome continued 
• Gibbon. 

to civilise and benefit the inhabitants ; and the decline of 
the Roman power was the commencement of a period of 
oppression, terror, and degradation. 

In the third century the Roman empire was assailed on 
every side, by the Franks, the Alemanni, the Goths, and the 
Persians. Gaul, menaced by the Franks, a confederacy 
of the inhabitants of the Lower Rhine and the Weser, 
was successfully defended by Posthumus, who acquired 
the title of the ' Saviour of Gaul.' In the reign of Cara- 
calla, who died in 217, the Suevi appeared on the banks 
of the Maine and in the neighbourhood of the Roman 
provinces, u in quest either of food, or plunder, or glory."* 
They came from Upper Saxony, beyond the Elbe, and 
their name and valour were familiarly known in all the 
interior countries of Germany from the Oder to the Vis- 
tula. Their army being composed of many tribes, the 
confederacy assumed the name of Alemanni. Caracalla 
encountered these hordes, and after much blood had been 
shed, he purchased a peace with money, a policy which 
in course of time proved fatally disastrous. The emperor 
Gallienus, who died in 268, was more fortunate, and de- 
feated the Alemanni in a great battle near Milan. The 
alliance which he formed with the daughter of one of 
their chiefs or kings, the citizens of Rome were still suf- 
ficiently haughty to treat with scorn. After the death of 
the emperor Aurelian in 274, Gaul was for some time 
ravaged with impunity by the barbarians ; but the im- 
pending catastrophe was again averted by a deliverer, 
Probus, who, in 277, successively defeated the Franks, 
who came from the flat maritime country between the 
Rhine and the Elbe; the Burgundians, who had wandered 
in quest of plunder from the Oder to the Seine ; and the 
Lygians, a people from the frontiers of Poland and Silesia. 
Probus carried the calamities of war into the countries of 
these various tribes from the Neckar to the Elbe. But 
the ravages of the barbarians and the civil dissensions of 
the empire were rapidly hastening the ruin of one of its 
finest provinces, and only one crowning event seemed ne- 
cessary to complete its fate. During the fourth century the 
power of the Romans was still sufficient to keep the Ale- 
manni, the Franks, and other people, from settling in Gaul ; 
but in the following century the crisis of Roman power 
arrived, and Italy was invaded by the Goths. 

A few words are necessary respecting this people, who 
broke the dominion of Rome, sacked the capital of the 
world, and afterwards established themselves in the fairest 
portions of Europe— Gaul, Spain, and Italy. They are 
said to have emigrated originally from Asia, and fixed 
themselves in Scandinavia, but had wandered from that 
peninsula and spread themselves along the Vistula, the 
Oder, and the coasts of Pomerania and Mecklenburgh. A 
second time they emigrated, wandering towards the Euxine, 
following the course of the rivers, where they found water 
and pasturage for their herds. Towards the close of the 
fourth century they had become the most formidable ene- 
mies of the Roman empire, and since he middle of the third 
century they had frequently assailed its power. In 403 
they at length invaded Italy ; in 409 a host of barbarians 
crossed the Rhine, who never repassed that frontier stream. 
They destroyed many cities and ravaged the open country, 
and, with the exception of Armorica (the present Bretagne), 
Gaul lost its independence. In 410 the Goths were 
again in Italy, and this time they pillaged Rome. In 
419 these victorious tribes settled, by treaty, between the 
Garonne and the Loire, and Toulouse became the seat of 
their authority. About the same time the Burgundians 
and the Franks also obtained a permanent seat in Gaul. 
The most fertile lands were assigned to them and divided 
with the antient possessors, on whom, Gibbon says, a ran- 
som was imposed. The Empire of the West was now 
rapidly falling to pieces. Iu 435 the Goths besieged 
Narbonne, the southern province of Gaul, and the Belgic 
or northern provinces were invaded by the Burgundians, 
* Gibbon 
' Digitized by VjOOQ IC 



[March 28, 

Hostilities took place from time to time between the Ro- 
man troops and the newly-settled people in Gaul ; but in 
451 the invasion of Gaul, by Attila, king of the Huns, 
united all parties, and Attila was defeated with immense 
slaughter at Chalons-sur-Marne, and obliged to evacuate 
the country. 

The next page in the history of Gaul exhibits the pre- 
dominance of the Franks. Forming originally a con- 
federacy of German people, each tribe maintaining its own 
independence and electing its own king, they were for 
some time in alliance with the Empire, and their subdivi- 
sion into tribes did not render their power formidable. The 
right bank of the Rhine was their original territory, but 
by treaty or conquest they had also established themselves 
on the left bank of the Scheldt and the Meuse. Towards 
the close of the fifth century, Clovis, who had been elected 
king of one of the Frankish tribes, commenced his vic- 
torious career, and in time extended his empire from the 
Lower Rhine, the cradle of his power, to the Loire, the 
Rhone, and the ocean. He was the real founder of the 
French monarchy, and died in 511. After his death this 
territory was dismembered, and each of the four sons 
of Clovis had a share; and still further subdivisions 
subsequently took place, until Pepin, who reigned from 
152 to 762, reunited the empire of Clovis ; and his son 
Charlemagne established it more firmly between the years 
768 and 814. But the Frankish empire was not re- 
tained longer than the life of Louis-le-Debonnaire, son of 
Charlemagne, who died in 840. A period of incon- 
ceivable misery next ensued. Divisions and subdivisions 
of territory were made by various parties, and war and 
rapine rendered France an easy prey to the Northmen, 
or Norman^ who in 911 acquired a portion of the 
country since known as Normandy. The establishment 
of the Normans in France brings this part of our sketch 
to a close, as our notice of Lilleboune in the last number 
began at this period. 


[Prom the • Penny Cydopaxtta.*] 

Proper names are words by which single objects are de- 
noted, as countries, rivers, towns, men, &c. 

But when we speak of proper names, we mean, more 
usually, the names of men ; and on this subject, to which 
little attention has hitherto been paid, and especially 
such proper names as appear among ourselves, it is our 
intention to offer a few observations. 

In the primitive state of society, as soon as men were 
so far advanced as to find the convenience of having a 
verbal denotation of the individuals who composed a tribe, 
the rule would undoubtedly be, " one man, one word :" 
we see this to be the case in the uncivilised tribes ; and 
as man is presented to us in very early historic periods, 
we still see the same system prevailing. In the Hebrew 
genealogies, which ascend much higher than any which 
possess the slightest claim to our respect in any other na- 
tion, we find a single word, as Terah, Abraham, Reuben, 
Aaron, David, Solomon, the onlv designation of the per- 
sons whom those words call up before us ; and if in any 
instance there is any deviation from the rule, it is for 
some special reason, and we see it to be an exception to 
what was the usual practice. 

In the other nations, the fathers of European civiliza- 
tion, it was the same, Egypt, Syria, Persia, and Greece ; 
one person, one word : and so in the earliest periods to 
which we can ascend in the history of the Latin nation, 
we have rarely more than one word to denote one indi- 
vidual, or if there is a second word employed, it bespeaks 
an origin in something which is apart from the simple, 
colloquial, and usual designation of him. 

In the Celtic and Oerman nations it appears to have 
been the same ; Arminius, Ariovistus, and the like ; aud 
in Britain, Curactacus. The Saxons were a nation in 

whom this, the primitive system, was still prevalent, not 
only when they first established a colony in Britain, but 
during the whole period when the descendants of Hen- 
gist held the supreme authority in this island. Persons 
do, to be sure, present themselves in the pages of his- 
torians with such additions as Harefoot, Ironside, but it 
may be reasonably doubted whether these terms can be 
properly regarded as names, and if it is admitted that 
they may be such, still these are only exceptions, the great 
mass of the Saxon population, of whatever rank, having 
but one single word by which the individual was denoted, 
such as Edwin, Alfred. Gurth, Ulf, Tosti, Harold, and 
the like. 

As nations advanced in refinement, the names of the 
individuals comprising them became more complex. 
Amongst the Romans, for instance, we have Publius 
Cornelius Scipio Africanus, Caius Julius Ccesar, Pub- 
lius Ovidius Naso ; and names of this class formed the 
rule, at least in families which were free. The slaves, 
probably, remained with the single word only. 

We have not room to enter into an examination of the 
principle on which this new form of personal denomina- 
tion was constructed. A uniform principle, like that 
very valuable one on which our own personal nomencla- 
ture is at present constructed, perhaps did not exist, so 
that our present system is rather to be regarded as the 
invention of modern nations, than as borrowed by them 
from any of the nations of more ancient civilization. 

The principle of the modern system of personal no- 
menclature in our own nation is this : to have one name 
for the individual, joined to a second name, which is 
common to some particular stirps (or stem) in the great 
English family to which he belongs. We call the two the 
name and the surname. We think in these davs much 
more of the latter than of the former. But in the more 
solemn acts of our lives we find the proper consequence 
given to that which is indeed the name ; in baptism, in 
elementary Christian instruction, at marriage, when the 
name is the thing in question, it is that which is pro- 
perly the name, and not the surname, which is pro- 
nounced; John, Richard, Anne. We may find in books, 
even down to the close of the seventeenth century, that 
catalogues and indexes are sometimes so constructed, that 
the names, and not the surnames, are ranged in alpha- 
betical order. Philips's * Theatrum Poetarum ' presents 
a late instance. 

The value of this principle lies here : that it is a simple 
and easy mode of showing, to some extent, to what 
family an individual belongs ; it promotes family union ; 
but its chief advantage lies in the facilities which it 
affords for conducting inquiries into the condition of the 
ancestors of persons who may feel any curiosity on the 
subject, which, without the indications afforded by identity 
of surname, could be attended with very little success, 
when it was attempted to descend beyond the recollections 
of persons still living. 

This' mode of designation, we believe, prevails in 
most other countries of modern Europe. In England it is 
almost the universal plan. The royal house of England 
forms an exception, an unchangeable surname having 
never been adopted by them. In this respect the house 
of Brunswick is like the houses of Saxe, Nassau, Bour- 
bon, Orleans, and a few others, springing from the per- 
sons who were of prime note in that state of society 
when the rule was, " one person, one word," and being 
afterwards too conspicuous by rank and station to need 
any such ordinary mode of distinction as that which the 
adoption of an invariable addition to the name would 
have given them. This was once not peculiar to the 
royal house of England in this island (the Stuarts, it may 
be observed, and perhaps the Tudors, but not the Planta- 
genets, were a temporary exception, being families of in- 
ferior rank, who were raised by circumstances to the 
possession of the regal dignity), for the earls, in the first 

Digitized by 





two or three centime*, seem also to have disdained a 
practice which assimilated them too nearly to the classes 
next below them. Thus the persons distinguished in 
Domesday Book as Comites, are Comes Hugo, Comes 
Rogerus; and never, we believe, with names of addition 
which descended to their posterity. But all these great 
houses have become long ago extinot. * 

There is also an exception to the modem rule, of ano- 
ther kind. There are still some remote and rudely * cul- 
tivated districts in which the inhabitants are better 
known by some by-name, as of the house in which they 
live, or as the son of some person well known, than by 
any unvarying addition to their name properly so called. 
This is said still (or at least very lately) to be the case 
in some parts of Yorkshire and Lancashire, and is cer- 
tainly the case in some parts of Wales ; but it is probable 
that the extension of education will bring all parts of this 
island into subjugation to a plan which has such obvious 

If it is inquired when the system on which we now A 
proceed was first adopted, the fact which has just been 
stated, that even now the system is not universally preva- 
lent, will show, what is indeed the fact, that, like many 
other things, it has made its way by degrees. There is 
not, we.believe, a single instance before the Conquest of 
persons in genealogical succession bearing the same sur- 
name ; and it is also quite certain that in the mass of the 
population of England after the Conquest, the descendants 
of the Saxon population, there can rarely, if ever, be 
shown an instance of successive individuals of the same 
family being distinguished by the same surname in the 
two centuries immediately succeeding the Conquest. We 
have, indeed, but imperfect means of pursuing the inquiry 
for those two centuries. The names of the people of those 
centuries he buried in unprinted records and cnartularies. 
But if there are exceptions, and Saxon families in these 
centuries to be traced using an invariable as well as a 
variable name, it is in that remarkable class, who still 
exist in no very small number, who have one of the old 
Saxon appellatives in the place of the surname, such as 
Thorold, Swaine, Aldred, Thoroughgood (Turgot), God* 
win, and the like. 

But we find in Domesday Book that several of the 
Normans and other people from the Continent, who be- 
came settled in England at the Conquest, and soon after 
that event, are distinguished by names of addition, which 
are not merely personal, but names which were borne by 
themselves and their posterity after them. Such are 
Darcy, Arundel, Devereux, Balliol, Burun, Lad, Perci, 
and others, people just below the rank of the comites, and 
who, gaining great possessions and great power, were 
afterwards very conspicuous in English history. These 
are the persons, we conceive, who first set the example of 
the practice which has since become all but universal 
among us. 

The disposition which always more or less exists to 
imitate what is done by a superior, is probably the prin- 
ciple to which we are to refer the change in this point 
which we find to have taken place by the middle of the 
fourteenth century. 

By that time the present system may be said to have 
been pretty generally established in ail the well-settled 
portions of the island. The statute of additions of the 
1st Henry V., by requiring that the name and description 
of the party should be exactly set forth in any writ or in- 
denture, would do something to consolidate the system : 
and when it was required that in all parishes a register 
should be kept of baptisms, marriages, and burials, which 
was one of tlie acts of the Reformers, there was a new 
check presented to any attempts at relaxation in the prac- 

But even at the beginning of the fifteenth century there 
was much that was unsettled in the personal nomencla- 
ture of England, even in families to whom pertained por- 

tions of the soil. Thus in 1406 a person describes him- 
self as Willielmus filius Ada Emmotson, who in 1416 is 
Willielmus Emmotson ; and more remarkably about the 
same time, a person who is described as Johannes filius 
Willielmi filii Johannis de Hunshelf appears soon after 
as Johannes Wilson. About the same time we had 
Willielmus Johnson Wilkinson, Willielmus Adamson 
Magotson, and Thomas Henson Magot, showing the 
present system then in its rudiments. 

As the system at present existing made its way by de~ 
grees, and with much of casualty, so there seems to have 
been much also of accident in respect of the name of ad- 
dition which marked the distinction of the stirpes. There 
are some of the surnames in common use among us for 
the adoption of which it is difficult now to assign any 
satisfactory reason. This is partly to be attributed to the 
corruption which many names have undergone, and partly 
to the strange additions which we find in the place of 
surnames in early documents of undoubted authenticity. 
One of these is Adam that God made, whose addition, if 
he lived at the period when his race first began to con* 
form themselves to the system, would appear now in some 
form which would probably foil the sagacity of the most 
skilful inquirer. Sometimes there is a difficulty arising 
out of a wrong apprehension of the origin. Thus we 
have the names Spring, Summer, Winter ; there is no 
Autumn. It is difficult to conceive how the names of 
the seasons should become the names of families ; but in 
fact it is not so, Spring being a word denoting a small 
grove of trees, so that the name classes with Wood, Holt, 
and others concerning which there is no difficulty ; while 
Summer and Winter are Summoner and Vintner, names 
derived from occupations. 

But the great mass of our surnames may be easily ex- 
plained. We cannot enter here at large into the subject ; 
but it may be useful to those who are inclined to prose- 
cute it, to say that nearly the whole of them may be re- 
ferred to one of the five following classes : — 

1. Foreign names brought in by settlers from other 
countries, including the Scotch and Irish names. These 
designate a very large section of the whole population ; 
and there is a constant accession being made to them by 
the tide of population setting towards England. Very 
few of the names of this class introduced in the early 
periods remain ; the great majority being of families who 
have become settled in England in the course of the last 
century and a half. 

2. Names of locality. — These are divisible into two 
great portions : those which are derived from places of 
generic names only, such aa Hill, Dale, Cliff, Slack, 
Combe, Grove, Shaw, Frith, and many others, mostly mo- 
nosyllabic, which wpuld originally appear as John de la 
Hill, &c. ; and those which are derived from some specific 
place, as At her ton, Burton, Denby, and thousands of 
others, there being scarcely a town, village, or hamlet 
which has not given its name to some English family. 

3. Names of occupation.— Of thiB class the number is 
very great. We have Brewer* Barber, Smith, Mason, 
in short every trade and every other occupation in which 
men engage. Lost trades, or trades which have changed 
their names, are preserved in the names of families 
whose ancestor was engaged in them at the time when 
his family fell into the system. Thus we have Fletcher \ 
Girdler, Furbishtr, Stringfellow, Lister, Walker, Par- 
giter, Webster, Taverner, and the like. We have also 
Palliser, Lander, Foster, Palfreyman, Page, Woodruffe, 
Reeve, Hunter, which were evidently at the beginning 
names of occupation. It is difficult to account for such 
names as Bishop, Baron, Earl, Lord, Priest, King. 

4. A large portion of our personal nomenclature ia 
made up of surnames which are formed upon those 
which we call Christian names. Nearly all these ap- 
peared originally in the form of Filius, &c , as John son 
of William. This mode of designation has taken various 

Digitized by 




[March 28, 1840. 

forms. Thus on this name of William there are founded 
Williams, Williamson, Wills, Wilson, Wilks, Wilkins, 
Wilkinson, WilHs, Wtllison, Bill, Bilson, Willet, Willi- 
mot, Willmot, Till, Tilly, Tillot, Tilson, Tillotson, Willy, 
each of which, if written by a scribe of the middle ages 
in Latin, would be expressed by the same phrase, Filius 
Willielmi. Other names have an equally numerous pro- 
geny. To this class may be referred Ives and Iveson, 
which are Filius Judei ; Clarkson, Cookson, Wriahtson, 
which are names formed not indeed on the name, but the 
profession of the parents. 

It would, however, be to extend this article to an in- 
ordinate length, even to touch upon the subordinate classes 
to the five great classes. 

5. The fifth and last is that of names which indicate 
something peculiar in the personal appearance or mental 
qualities of the person to whom they are first given. Such 
are Swift, Long, White, Black, Crump, Rouse, Wise, 
Good, &c. 

Of the proportions in which names of the five classes 
enter into the composition of English society, some idea 
may be formed by the following analysis of 896 names, 
found in what was called the ' Fashionable ' class of the 
inhabitants of Bath. Throwing out 162 as of uncertain 
origin, there remained 734 surnames, which give the fol- 
lowing results : — 

1. Foreign names, 142. 

2. Names of locality. Generic, 57 ; specific, 249. 

Total, 306. 

3. Names of occupation, 79. 

4. Patronymical, 172, of which 43 were Saxon 


5. Descriptive, 35. 

The results would be somewhat different in a popula- 
tion of a different kind. There are six families who have 
names of occupation in the English peerage. The num- 
ber of the individuals bearing the names varies greatly in 
the five classes. The ratio of the number of persons 
bearing the name to the name itself is the lowest in the 
first and second classes. 

The nations who contributed the 142 foreign names 
were these : — 

Scots, 44 German, 9 Italian, 2 Poles, 1 
French, 39 Dutch, 6 Portuguese, 2 
Irish, 32 Welsh, 5 Cornish, 2 

Thus much for the surname. 

The names of the ancient Saxon population of England 
were nearly all descriptive of some quality of mind or 
body. Thus Edward is truth-keeper; Winfred, win- 
peace ; Alfred, all-peace ; Edmund, truth-mouth ; Ail- 
win, of all beloved ; Ulf, wolf. But a great change took 
place soon after the Conquest. We see in the names of 
the Normans who became settled in England many which 
continued for ages favourite names of the English nation ; 
Roger, Ralph, Hugh, Humphrey, Geffrey, Gilbert. To 
them also we owe the introduction amongst us of names 
of religion. If these names existed at all in England 
before the Conquest, they were exceedingly rare. In the 
catalogues of Saxon bishops not one occurs. Even 
amongst the first race of Normans they did not abound. 
We find Adam, John, Stephen, David, Peter, Matthew, 
and perhaps a few others. But in the century and a half 
after that event names of this class began to prevail in a 
great degree. It was a period of extraordinary Chris- 
tian devotion : the exertions in founding monasteries, 
building churches, and maintaining the war against the 
infidels show it. In this state of the public mind the 
new system of taking names of religion spread and 
strengthened. The names of religion were almost wholly 
from the Old and New Testament, a few only being taken 
from the names of persons who have been eminent in 
later times for their Christian virtues. 

Since then little change has taken place. A few names 

once common have lost their popularity ; a few othera 
have been introduced. There have been periods when 
names somewhat fantastic have had a popularity ; such 
as the names of the virtues, as Patience, Truth, Pru- 
dence, Faith, by which women have been named ; Thank- 
ful, Faithful, Sabbath, and others more extraordinary, 
have been giron to men. Some went for a time into 
another extreme, and we had Hannibal, Scipio, Ccesar, 
and Hercules. 

We have, however, not been sufficiently attentive to 
the importance of keeping up a stock of what we call 
Christian names. Our population has increased to a 
very great extent, while our surnames have rather di- 
minished than the contrary. We should, therefore, if we 
wish that names should be what they are intended to be, 
Notamina, increase the number of those names out of 
which we have the power ourselves of selection. As it 
is, with a population of 20 or 30 millions, we have but 
53 names of men which can be used without some ap- 
pearance of singularity. Of these, 12 are in more fre- 
quent use than the rest : — 

John William Henry George James Robert 
Thomas Frarcis Charles Edward Richard Samuel 

Of these, 4 are names of religion ; 4 are names intro- 
duced at the Conquest ; 3 names introduced at a later 
period from the nomenclature of other countries; 1 is 
pure Saxon. Of the 41 names of secondary frequency, 
28 are names of religion ; so that of the 53 names of 
men in ordinary use, 32 are names of religion, or consi- 
derably more than one-half, and they are all taken from 
the Scriptures. 

Again, looking at the 53 names in respect of the Ian* 
guages from which they are derived, it appears that 

25 are of Hebrew origin, 

19 from the various dialects of Western 

5 from the Greek, and 

4 from the Latin. 
There are a multitude of names, once in use in England, 
which might easily be revived, and it would be a matter 
of some public convenience to do bo. Few persons 
have not found inconvenience in some form or other from 
the want of sufficient distinctness in the name he bears. 
Thus a little time ago there were two antiquarian Chal- 
mers ; two Parkes upon the bench ; two Whitakers, both 
clergymen, and both writers on Lancashire topography : 
some time ago there were two Dr. John Thomas's, both 
chaplains to the king, and both bishops ; and two Dr. 
Grays, both divines, both writers in their own profession, 
both connected with historic literature and poetry, and 
both engaged in controversies with Warburton. This 
occasions confusion. To change a surname is a difficult 
and expensive process ; the cheapest and simplest remedy 
is to give a name at baptism which will be marked and 
remembered, as Basil Hall. Of neglected names there 
are, Austin, Allan, Aubrey, Arnold, Baldwin, Blase, 
Barnard, Fabian, Ferdinand, Josceline 9 Miles, Sylvester, 
Theobald, Theodore, and a host of others. But it might 
be worth the consideration of government, whether some 
facilities should not be afforded for increasing our very 
scanty stock of surnames, by the revival of many which 
are now extinct and lost, in persons who descend from 
those who bore them. 

Truth. — Truth is always consistent with itself, and needs 
nothing to help it out It is always near at hand, and aits 
upon our lips, and is ready to drop out before. we are aware ; 
whereas a lie is troublesome, and sets a man's invention 
upon the rack ; and one trick needs a great many more to 
make it good.— Tillotson. 

V The Office of the ScHety ft* the Diffusion ot Useful Knowledge Is at 
89, Lincoln's Inn Field*. 


Printed by William Cfaowsi fc Sent, *»mfafd-8feeet. 

Digitized by 


monWV S:\ippUmt\xt of 


or TBB 

Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. 


February £9 to March 31, 1840. 



[The Central Compartment taken from Cotton MS., Tiberias. B. v. ; the other* from Cotton MS* Nero, D. rr. ; and the ornaments 

from various Saxon Calendars.] 

In treating this subject popularly, as we proposed doing 
at the commencement of our present series of agricultural 
articles, we would wish our readers to bear in mind, that 
when we have occasion to speak of the state of agriculture 
at any particular period, during the present as well as the 
previous centuries, that our observations must be under- 
stood as applying in a general sense, unless they are 
otherwise expressed. It appears obvious that our readers 
should clearly comprehend this, because the 'Penny 
Magazine' finds its way into districts of country where 
few innovations upon old modes and customs, in matters 
appertaining to farming affairs, have yet been tolerated. 
Moreover, persons who happen to be novices in agricul- 
ture, in travelling through such parts of the country as 
our general remarks do not apply to, might naturally 
enough conclude that there was something at least ano- 
malous in our account of the present state of agriculture, 
drawing conclusions from what actually appeared to be 
the case in one or more insignificant localities, without 
being aware that these were exceptions from the existing 
state of things, taken in a general sense, throughout the 
whole kingdom. But, admitting that we possessed the 
power of presenting our readers with the precise state to 
which agriculture has attained up to the present period, 
not only in each county in our island, but also in every 
Vol. IX. 

local and isolated district — to introduce the merest epi- 
tome of the state of farming affairs would exceed beyond 
measure the limits we purpose devoting to this interesting 
subject. By way of illustration we will observe, that in 
our supplemental number for last month we introduced 
some remarks upon the state to which agriculture had 
attained during the sixteenth century, and there stated 
that " the rotation of crops usually followed during this 
period indicated but little advancement in the art of agri- 
culture." Now, were this not taken in a general sense, 
the observation would not be an apposite one, because we 
are aware that even at the present day there are local 
districts where the very same rotation of crops that called 
forth the remark, bad as it certainly is, would be an im- 
provement upon the management (or rather mismanage- 
ment) of lands in those districts, since it is no uncommon 
sight to witness the dale-farmers in the north and north- 
west of England breaking up a green sward, in the middle 
or some other quarter of a meadow, about the close of 
this month, or the beginning of April, and sowing it with 
oats upon the grass furrow, at the rate of from seven or 
eight bushels of seed per acre ; and if in harvest-time the 
ground returns a three-fold crop, the farmer appears quite 
satisfied. About the same period the following spUng the 
same piece of ground receives another single ploughing, 

Digitized by VjOOQ IC 




when fcofflethiftg near the like quantity of corn is again 
expected. The third, and, probably, the fourth year, it 
is managed iu precisely the same way, and indeed for a 
longer period if the grass and weeds do not absolutely 
prevail over an attempt at another miserable crop of oata ; 
for as lon§ as the unambitious farmer gets something be- 
yond the seed in return, he consoles himself for the de- 
ficiency in corn by supposing that the straw, being mixed 
with so great a quantity of grass, will prove an ex- 
TJCllent substitute for hay. When the soil is at last suffered 
to rest for ten, fifteen, or twenty years, until it has again 
become mossed over for want of good management, it is 
once more subjected to the same sort of treatment. But 
on laying it down, that is, ceasing to plough it, no attempt 
is made to introduce any kind of grasses ; but this, in- 
deed, would be useless upon these nexo leys, as they are 
called, for there is already such an abundance of wild 
grass, docks, thistles, and other weeds, that it would be in 
vain for any sown grasses to contend with the rubbish 
already in possession of the soil. The quantity of hay 
yielded by new leys of the above description may not be 
so much deficient in quautity as it is in quality, and it is 
notorious to the parties who thus abuse parcels of good 
meadow land, that it requires several years to bring the 
new leys back to a state to yield hay of a quality even 
approaching that which they originally produced. 

In those parts of the country where such deplorable 
management as that above narrated is still permitted to 
exist, the mode of living and the domestic arrangements 
generally, seem scarcely, if at all, to have made greater 
advances than agriculture. For although at the present 
day we may not commonly find the farmers' wives and 
daughters engaged in the manufacture of woollen, linen, 
and tow cloths and clothing, some of them still continue 
to spin the yarn for a linen web during the autumn and 
winter, and nearly all of them card and spin the material 
for coarse stockings for the family, while here and there, 
in the valleys and hill districts, may still be seen an an- 
cient yeoman or farmer habited in the original " grey- 
coat," the garment being made of undyed wool, the 
produce of his own black and white sheep, carded and 
spun in his own family, woven by some country weaver 
or wabster, and fashioned into a coat by some itinerant 
tailor, who does not object to trudge several miles to a 
farmer's house, and there pursue his craft at the rate of a 
shilling or fourteen pence per day. Neither does the fe- 
male part of the farmer's family object to assisting in the 
hay and harvest fields, as well as on some other particular 
occasions. The maid-servants and the daughters of small 
farmers may still be seen assisting to load the dung-cart, 
in the planting and digging. up of potatoes, in taking 
batches of corn to the mill, in driving carts to some neigh- 
bouring market, and sundry other matters of a similar 
masculine character, all of which, in those parts of the 
country where agriculture has made the greatest progress, 
are now considered as exclusively belonging to the 
duties of the male part of our population. Indeed, the 
very term housewife, or huswife, which in many parts 
A the country is exclusively applied to the wives of 
urmers, clearly seems to apply to domestic or in-door em- 
ployment ; and the good or bad success of most farmers, 
particularly that class coming under the name of small 
farmers, very greatly depends upon housewifery :— 

" Of huswife, doth huawifery challenge that name ; 
Of huswifery, huswife doth likewise the same ; 
Where husband and husbandry joineth with these* 
There wealthiuess gotten is holdeu with ease. 

The name of a huswife, what is it to say ? 
The wife of the house, to the husband a stay j 
If huswife doth that as belongeth to her, 
If husband be witty, there needeth no stir. 

The huswife is she that to labour doth fall, 
* The labour of her I do huswifery call ; 
If thrift by that labour be honestly got, 
Then is it good huswifery, else it is not. 

The woman the name of a huswife doth win 
By keeping her house and of doings therein ; 
* And "She that with husbftfid will quietly dwell, 
Must think on this lesson, and follow it well.*** 

There is one duty in particular attached to most fanning 
establishments, but of more or lew importance according 
to the purposes to which farms are principally devoted : 
we refer to that of milking the cows. On dairy-farms this 
fa a matter scarcely of secondary consideration to any 
other, since, besides the necessary labour that it requires 
twice a day, morning and evening, a certain attention to 
the operation of milking being performed carefully and 
honestly is not only desirable, but often really essential, 
and this devolves upon some trustworthy individual who 
occasionally superintends and ascertains that the whole 
of the milk has been extracted from the cows. We men- 
tion this subject here because custom, that arbitrary 
teacher, seems to define who shall be employed, and who 
shall not, in milking the cows. We will not attempt to 
define limits to the localities in which contrary customs 
prevail, for that is unnecessary to the elucidation of the 
object we have in view, namely, that in certain parts of 
the country cow-milking is exclusively assigned to the 
male part of the farm establishment ; in other districts 
females are invariably employed at the milk-pail, while 
elsewhere we find both men and maidens, apparently 
without any preference, employed in the same cow- 
yard in this material part of the business of dairying. 
Bloom field, that poet of Nature, in referring to this 
domestic duty, speaks, no doubt, of the custom pre- 
vailing in the part of the country where he was 
early employed as a <; farmer's boy," and in that part 
of England ( Suffolk), although we find milking the 
cows more generally performed by females, yet it is not 
exclusively restricted, as it is in many places, to them 
alone. Hear the poet describe what he himself used 
to take a part in, under the familiar appellation of 
Giles, when, having driven home the cow3 from the 
distant meadow, for the purpose of being milked he 

" At home the yard affords a grateful scene ; 
For Spring makes e'en a miry cow-yard clean. • 
• • « • « 

Forth comes the maid, and like the morning smiles; 

The mistress too, and followed close by Giles. 

A friendly tripod forms their humble seat, 

With pails bright scourM, and delicately sweet. 

Where shadowing elms obstruct the morning ray, 

Begins their work, begins the simple lay ; 

The full-charged udder yields its willing streams, 

While Mary sings Rome lover's amorous dreamx ; 

And crouching Giles, beneath a neighbouring tree. 

Tugs o'er his pail and chants with equal fflee, 

Wlnose hat with tattered brim, of nap so bare, 

From the cow's side purloins a coat of hair, 

A mottled ensign of his harmless trade, 

An unambitious peaceable cockade. 

As unambitious, too, that cheerful aid 

The mistress yields beside her rosy maid ; 

With joy she views her plenteous reeking store, 

And bears a brimmer to the dairy door ; 

Her cows dismissed, the luscious mead to roam, 

Till eve again recall them loaded home." 

Having introduced the subject of milking cows, it may 
not be out of place to follow up the suggestions that 
naturally present themselves, and introduce some few par- 
ticulars connected with cattle and cattle-breeding, parti- 
cularly as there is no other month in the year equal to 
the present one, March, for the pioduction of calves, if 
we take the whole country into our calculation. But the 
breeding of cattle differs materially from the breeding of 
sheep; for notwithstanding that, in a few instances, 
farmers can manage to have a small portion of their ewes 
yielding their lambs as early as December, or in the 
beginning of January, the usual lambing season in the 
warmer and more fertile districts is February, and, in 
the colder and more inhospitable regions of our island, 

Digitized by VjOOQ IC 




during this month and the following one : the ewes be- 
longing to the mountain flocks would not yield nourish- 
ment sufficient to sustain their tender progeny until that 
period of the spring when the early vegetation afforded 
them a little food of a more succulent and nutritious 
nature than the dry and scanty pittance they had been 
accustomed to during the winter months. Cows, on the 
contrary, will propagate their species at any period of the 
year ; and it consequently depends in most cases upon 
the views of the farmer or grazier regarding the ultimate 
profits arising from cattle of this description that we every- 
where find some cows producing calves at one season of 
the year and some at another. Spring, however, is the 
principal season with breeders of stock in general, since 
calves produced early in spring commonly make out 
better, and are more profitable upon the whole (except 
such as are intended for the butcher), than those pro- 
duced at any other season ; whereas cows that calve 
several months before there is pasturage to supply them 
with grass, scarcely ever yield so much milk during the 
succeeding summer, as if the case had been otherwise, 
and hence the profits are lessened to whatever purpose 
the milk may be converted. However, in large and 
populous towns and communities there is a constant 
demand for milk (and butter too) throughout the whole 
year ; so that those persons who keep dairies, and supply 
their customers during the summer months, are under 
the necessity of meeting the demand during the winter 
ones also, and hence a portion of their cows are always 
such as are in full milk — that is, newly calved. Much, 
however, is now effected by the use of turnips,, mangel- 
wurzel, cabbages, carrots, and other succulent roots or 
vegetables, in the way of causing either cows or sheep to 
furnish a plentiful supply of milk during the wiuter ; but 
then it is a well-ascertained fact that these vegetable 
productions cannot be cultivated but at a greater cost to 
the farmer than summer grass, and hence the system of 
forcing milk, as this might be called, is but little resorted 
to, except in situations where it at any time commands a 
remunerating price to the dairyman. 

In the principal districts where cheese is made in large 
quantises, as for instance, Cheshire, Derbyshire, Glou- 
cestershire, Dorsetshire, &c, the dairy-farmers invariably 
contrive to have their cows calving just sufficiently early 
in the season, so as to enable them to commence cheese- 
making at the period there is sufficient grass for the 
cows being turned out to pasture ; and this process of 
cheese-making is regularly continued into the autumn ; 
and in the early part of the winter the cows are no 
longer milked, as there exists a somewhat general opinion 
that cows that, are allowed to go dry for three or four 
months before calving are apt to yield a greater quantity 
of milk during the next season. Besides, there is a 
saving in the expense of maintaining dry cows, for it is 
the general custom in the dairying districts to feed these 
cows upon straw and a small quantity of hay, or else a 
few turnips, after they no longer yield milk, until within 
a short period of their calving. In a future article we 
shall introduce the subject of cheese and butter making, 
and at a more congenial season than during the cold 
month of March. 

The small kyloe cattle in some parts of Scotland are, 
at the present day, treated in a manner that appears one 
of peculiar kindness ; but it rather, probably, proceeds 
from a view of greater convenience, as incurring less 
labour and expense than if they were treated in the ordi- 
nary way ; since one rude dwelling is often found giving 
shelter to the family of a small farmer and two or three 
small cows. Garnet, in his ' Tour through the High- 
lands,* gives the following account of this circumstance 
or custom ; and after describing the privations of the 
peasant, he continues — " Nor are his cattle in a better 
situation ; in summer they pick up a scanty support 
fTnong the morasses and heathy mountains; but in 

winter, when the ground is covered with snow,"and when 
the naked wilds afford them neither shelter nor sub- 
sistence, the few cows, small, lean, and ready to drop for 
want of pasture, are brought into the hut where the 
family resides, and frequently share with them their little 
stock of meal, which had been purchased or raised for the 
family only, while the cattle thus sustained are bled occasion* 
ally to afford nourishment for the children after the mingled 
oatmeal and blood has been boiled or made into cakes." 
In our last month's agricultural article we were in- 
duced to remark upon the excellence of most of Tusser's 
hints and advice, in his c Five Hundred Points of Good 
Husbandry;' and notwithstanding it might probably be 
better to accord with his views, even in this instance — 
*• To hunters and hawkers take heed what you say, 
Mild answer with courtesy drives them away; 
So where a man's betters will open a ™>, 
Resist not with rudeness, for fear of mishap" — 

it must be admitted that hunting — for hawking is no 
longer practised — at times severely exercises the farmer's 
patience and good-nature in curbing those feelings which 
naturally arise on witnessing a numerous held of sports- 
men, among whom there probably may be several that 
cannot be considered his betters, wholly regardless of his 
interests, and seemingly unconscious of his forbearance- 
dashing directly across his farm, breaking down hedges 
and fences of all descriptions, injuring seriously his crops 
of young grain, and making outlets and inroads, so that 
his own and neighbour's farm-stock have opportunities of 
committing depredations ou all sides with perfect impu- 
nity. In those parts of the country where the soil is of a 
heavy and clayey nature, inclining to wet, after the 
breaking of hard frost (particularly during February 
and March), and before the ground becomes settled 
and consolidated, the hoofs of the horses of forty or 
fifty sportsmen — or perhaps double that number — 
ploughing and plunging hock deep along the entire 
length of a field of young wheat, where the soil is of the 
character above alluded to, inflict almost incalculable 
mischief upon unoffending parties, without a shadow of 
right or authority to trespass upon them or their property 
in any way whatever. An eminent and modern poet, 
himself a keeu sportsman, makes the following allusion 
to the subject :— • 

" Ste, where yon simple fences meet, 

A field with autumn's blessings crowned ; 
See prostrate at the Wildgrave's feet 

A husbandman with toil embrowned. 
* O mercy, mercy, noble lord ! 

Spare the pour's pittance,' was his cry ; 
' Earned by the sweat these brows have poured, 

In scorching hour of fierce July.' 
' Away, thou hound ! so basely born, 

Or dread the scourge's echoing blow I' 
Then loudly rung his bugle horn, 

' Hark forward, forward, holla, ho I' 
So said, so clone : — a single bound 

Clears the poor labourer's humble pale ; 
Wild follow man, and horse, and hound, 

Like dark December's stormy gale. 
And man, and horse, and hound, and horn, 

Destructive sweep the field along; 
V~hi1e, joying o'er the wasted corn, 
Fell Famine marks the* maddening throng."* 

This being the season for sowing spring corn, a few 
words may be said regarding the injuries farmers are 
supposed by some to suffer from the depredations of 
birds, particularly rooks. This matter has been the 
subject of controversy from time immemorial, although 
most of the older writers are decidedly in favour of de* 
stroying rooks, daws, magpies, ravens, &c. 

" Kill crow, pie, and cadow, rook, buzzard, and raven, 
Or else go desire them to seek a new haven. 
In scaling the youngest, to pluck off his beak, 
Beware how you clamber, for breaking your neck.f 

• Sir Walter Scott— translation of the < Wild Huntsman' by 
Burger, f Tusser; 'March's Hwbaaury.' 

Digitized by VjOOQ IC 



[March 31, 

But with the exception of rooks, none of the birds here 
mentioned can be fairly accused of committing depreda- 
tions on the recently sown seed ; and even they infinitely 
prefer a grub or a lob-worm to a few grains of oats or 
barley. Where farmers have antipathies towards any of 
the others, they arise rather from the general character 
these birds bear than from the actual depredations they 
are known to commit ; for although magpies, crows, and 
ravens have been known to attack young lambs and 
sheep that were too weak to defend themselves, these 
instances are but of rare occurrence, and, therefore, do 
not amount to any really serious grievance. As for buz- 
zards, they are very scarce in most parts of the country ; 
and iu those districts where they are occasionally seen, 
their most heinous crimes consist in stooping to pick up 
a poult or chicken, which they carry off to regale their 
young ones upon. And even they seem to give a pre- 
ference to a fine speckled frog, or a basking adder, and 
do not apparently interfere with the poultry-yard until 
hard pressed by hunger, and a tempting opportunity 
presents it- elf. Dr. Mavor, who edited the best edition 
of Tusser's ' Five Hundred Points of Good Husbandry,' 
makes the following observations upon the foregoing 
stanzas quoted from the poet- farmer : — 

" In our moist climate, which naturally generates in- 
sects, if it were nut for birds, and even some of those 
which are proscribed by vulgar prejudice, the fruits of 
the earth would be almost wholly destroyed. No doubt 
some species of the feathered tribes may become too 
numerous, if protected ; but it is only during seed-time 
and harvest that birds do any injury, while their import- 
ant services are continued the year round. Were parishes 
to pay for the destruction of vipers and of rats, it cer- 
tainly would be more sensible and beneficial than setting 
a price upon the heads of sparrows. As for rooks, they 
are of the first utility to the farmer ; and even the crow 
and the cadow, or jackdaw, are not destitute of valuable 
qualities, which may indeed be affirmed of the predaceous 
race in general, the least favoured of any." 

As the art of agriculture has continued to advance 
until it has attained the comparatively perfect condition 
in which we find it at present, the condition of the 
farmer (except in some particular districts) has likewise 
continued to improve, — while that of the farm-servant 
and labourer has been nearly stationary ; or, indeed, in 
some instances, it has absolutely retrograded : we refer 
only to his mode of living and general comforts. 

" I grant indeed that fields and flocks have charms 
For him that gases, or fur him that farms ; ' 
But when amid such pleasing *cene» trace 
The pour laborious natives of the place, 
And see the mid-day sun, with fervid ray, 
On their bare heads'and dewy temples play, 
While some, with feebler heads and fainter hearts, 
Deplure their fortune, yet sustain their parts j 
Then shall I dare these real ills to hide, 
In tinsel trappings of poetic pride?*'* 

Two hundred years ago persons occupying farms which 
are now rented at 150/. or 200/. a-year, associated at the 
domestic fireside, as well as at the daily family board, 
with the household servants, both males and females; 
nor was it considered any degradation, those easy, free, 
and familiar terms existing between master and man, 
and mistress and maid. In those days the generality of 
farm-houses were but little calculated for separate tables, 
and distinct places of accommodation for two parties; 
since the large hall, or house, or kitchen, or serving- 
room, as the principal apartment was named, according 
to the provincial usage of terms in different parts of the 
country, with a large chamber above, open to the thatch 
or tiling, often constituted the only two habitable rooms 
upon the premises. There was, indeed, besides the hall, 
the buttery or pantry; and the place of all-work devoted 
to baking, brewing, washing, &c, but very frequently 

• Crabbe:' The. Village.' 

these were buildings added to the principal one, and but 
one story high, and consequently admitting of no loft or 
chamber over head. Notwithstanding this scarcity of 
accommodation, according to our present ideas of such 
matters, in those days fewer labourers were employed, 
and hence it necessarily followed that more farm-servants 
were kept in the house. It will readily be conceived 
that this state of things tended to render the ordinary 
intercourse between master and man of a close and fami- 
liar nature ; and the attachment of servants to the fami- 
lies in which they resided was often so uowerful, deep, 
and lasting, that it ended but with their lives. But this 
will cease to be surprising when we reflect how matters 
stood, for the servants, in fact, were considered as forming 
part and parcel of the common household ; and it was 
only the more worthless class of them that ever thought 
of seeking new places when once they had become do- 
mesticated in some farmer's family. In those days there 
is but little doubt that they had many and greater in- 
dulgences than farm-servants at present enjoy, and 
it is sincerely to be regretted that such is the case, 
since little indulgences and attentions bestowed upon 
dependents are usually more than repaid, for only rood 
can be produced by the attachment of servants to their 
employers. This state of things, however, has been a 
consequence of the more marked distinction between the 
rank of the employer and the employed, arising from the 
greater necessity of capital by the former. Still the la- 
bourer has many compensating advantages over his pre- 
decessors, in the wider spread of mental instruction, and 
thence a far greater possibility of advancement to a higher 
rank than they could ever hope to obtain ; nor is he, like 
them, any longer almost bound to the soil; but there is 
no doubt the household servants of an earlier age had an 
advantage in merely physical enjoyments. In the six- 
teenth century we find the " Ploughman's Holidays " 
thus enumerated, namely, " Plough Monday," " Shrove- 
tide," "Sheep-shearing," "the Wake-day/' « Harvest- 
Home," " Seed-cake," and " Twice a-week Roast :" 
these were commonly styled the " Plough-man's Feast- 

In speaking of these " feasting-days" Tusser makes 
the following observations, from which it is evident they 
were then old customs : — 

" Thii would not be slipt, 
Old guise must be kept. 

Good huswives whom God has enriched enough, 
F»rget not the feasts that belong to the plough : 
The meaning is only to joy and be glad, 
For comfort with labour is fit to be had." 

" Plough Monday" has long since ceased to be a day 
of peculiar observance amongst the farming community ; 
but when the festivities of Christmas were celebrated 
among all classes, this was a memorable day with the 
rustic ploughman. Dr. Mavor remarks, " Till after 
Twelfth-day, very little country business of any kind 
used to be carried on. Feasting and visiting filled up 
the period between Christmas and that day, which was 
always observed with due solemnities. Plough Monday, 
which speedily followed, was to remind the cultivators of 
the earth of their proper business; and a spring was 
given to the activity of domestics by some peculiar ob- 
servances. The men and maid servants strove to outvie 
each other in early rising on Plough Monday. If the 
ploughman could get any of the implements of his voca- 
tion by the fire-side before the maid could put on the 
kettle, she forfeited her shrovetide-cock. The evening 
concluded with a good supper." 

" Plough Monday, next after that Twelfthtide is past, 
Bids out with the plough ; the worst husband is last : 
If ploughmen get hatchet or whip to the screen, 
Maids loseth their cock, if no water be seen. 1 '* 

" Shrovetide, which usually falls in the early part of 

! Tuner: < Ploughman's Feasting-Dsyi/J 

Digitized by 





the present month, or in the latter part of February, con- 
tinues to this day, in some parts of England, a sort of 
holiday rather than feast-day among domestic servants. 
When cock-fights were more in vogue than they are at 
present, in many country towns and villages these rude 
sports were celebrated on Shrove-Tuesday, and were at- 
tended by vast numbers of farming people — masters as 
well as men. In some parts of Northumberland, as well 
as the counties of Durham, York, and some others, this 
day, or at all events the afternoon, is still a holiday among 
the ploughmen and other agricultural labourers ; and one 
of their chief recreations consists in foot-ball playing. 
The young men of the surrounding neighbourhood assem- 
ble at some appointed place in the town or village, when 
a person, delegated for that purpose, throws a foot-ball 
perpendicularly into the air, and it no sooner reaches the 
earth than the surrounding multitude commence an ardu- 
ous and (very frequently) most severe struggle at this 
ancient game. The young men belonging to particular 
township or districts unite in kicking it (driving, as it is 
called) in one direction, while their opponents, represent- 
ing some other local districts, endeavour to kick it in a 
contrary one. The game is understood as being limited 
by certain boundaries in every direction, these being 
usually at the distance of a mile or two from the starting 
post ; and unless one of the parties succeeds in driving 
the ball, probably after several hours 9 violent exercise, 
across the limits, the game remains undecided, and no 
victory is claimed. A dance in the evening often suc- 
ceeds the foot-ball match, when the maid-servants join 
in the shrovetide holiday's amusements. Our space will 
not allow us to refer to other pastime and customs that 
seem to be remnants of the ancient modes of celebrating 
this once popular festival.* 

44 Sheep-shearing," another of the " ploughman's 
feasting days," though still necessarily returning with 
each returning year, has, and that even within the last 
thirty or forty years, sunk into a matter of mere ordinary 
farming business ; and altogether ceased, except on some 
gentleman's estates, and in a few particular sheep-farm- 
ing districts, to be a day of jollity and feasting as it waa 
in olden times. 

The " Wake-Day " is one of those partial rather than 
general observances, for while every small country town, 
or village that can boast a parish church, in some of 
our local districts, still continues to celebrate the Saint's 
day to which their church is dedicated, there are places 
where nothing of the kind prevails. Frequently, how- 
ever, they are not called Wakes, but Feasts or Fairs. 
Again, in other parts of the country the inhabitants 
celebrate their Feast-Sunday, — that is, the Sunday 
nearest the Saint's day to whom the church is dedicated, 
and the feast will continue for two or three days after- 
wards. These feasting days, however, are not absolutely 
holidays among the farm-servants and labouring classes, 
although for the most part the afternoons, or a portion 
of them, and probably the whole night, are devoted to 

Of all the " fea8ting-days" the ploughman of former 
times seems to have been entitled to, that of the " Har- 
vest-Home" is now the only one that still continues pretty 
general throughout the country at large. The " Harvest- 
Sapper," provided for all those who have taken a part in 
securing the summer crops, and which generally con- 
cludes with dancing, is a custom so common in most rural 
districts, that it requires no further comment. 
f For all this good feasting, yet art those not loose, 
Till ploughman thou gtvest his harvest-home goose. 
Though goose go in stubble, I pass not for that, 
Let goose have a goose, be she lean, be she fat.'t 

* a It appears," says Dr. Mavor, " that a goose used 
formerly to be given at harvest-home to those who had 

* See account of " Foot-ball Play at De by/' in Penny liaga- 
an*,* No. 450, p. 131, volume for 1839. 
i Tuster: Ploughman's Feasting-days. 

not overturned a load of corn, in carrying, during harvest 
Thus the shame of privation before his equals was wisely 
superadded to the sense of duty, in order to induce care- 
fulness. We have lost the principle, but the practice of 
a good supper on finishing harvest is still continued, and 
no occasion can be more proper." 

The ploughman's feast of the " Seed-cake," that is, an 
entertainment at the conclusion of seed-time, is now nearly 
if not wholly obsolete in every part of the kingdom. 
Tuaser refers to it as follows : — 

" Wife, sometime this week, if the weather held clear, 
The end of wheat-sowing we make for this year ; 
Remember thou, therefore, though I do it not, 
The seed-cake, the pasties, and furmenty pot" 
" Twice a-week Roast," though classed among the 
u ploughman's feasting-days," can hardly be said to have 
been the joyous and festive occasions similar to those 
already referred to, although no doubt they were wel- 
come to those for whom the roasts were thus regularly 

" Good plowmen look weekly, of custom and right, 

Leaving holidays and feasting again for work, we may 
state that this month ought to be considered as terminating 
the season for farmers' getting their fences into proper 
order, as also their hedging and ditching, the neglect of 
which invariably betokens slovenliness, if not something 
worse, and the destruction of crops is often consequent 
thereon. A few remarks upon fencing may not be con- 
sidered irrelevant to our present purpose. 

It seems to have been an almost universal custom in 
former times, at a period when the present improved 
system of farming was entirely unknown, to plant trees, 
of one sort or another, in most of the hedge-rows ; and 
even now, when new division-fences are made, we some- 
times find this old custom resorted to, and by parties who 
cannot plead in excuse that they are ignorant of the ill 
effects produced to the various crops by these hedge-row 
trees. The bad effects from trees thus planted are strik- 
ingly obvious ; for to whatever distance they send forth 
their roots, to that extent the crop of grain or grass is 
greatly impoverished, if not absolutely ruined. The hedge 
too suffers from the roots of the forest-trees, and the 
shadow they cast in various directions cannot but retard 
the maturing of the crops thus secluded from the sun's 
rays. However, in districts where farming is in the most 
flourishing condition, the farmers seem quite aware that 
the less the fences shade the crops, the better they are 
likely to prove. 

The most common sorts of hedges are planted either 
with hawthorn, crab-tree, holly, blackthorn, or whitethorn, 
usually called quicks; but willow, elder, and furze are 
sometimes employed where the soil seems adapted to 
their gfbwth ; and maple and hornbeam are found in * 
many of the old hedge-rows. 

In planting hedges, the nature of the soil should be 
considered, for it would be perfectly absurd to plant holly 
in swampy ground, or willows in dry and stony places. 
In most parts of the country the whitethorn is more used , 
than any of the other sorts, being more rapid in its growth, 
and more easily propagated, and hence requiring a shorter 
time to be protected from the cattle by what may be 
termed artificial means. Blackthorn and crab-tree form 
good fences, particularly for the boundaries of farms ; 
but the soil should be of a tolerable quality, else they 
rarely attain a perfect state. Blackthorn possesses some 
excellent properties ; it is far more durable than white- 
thorn, ana its branches are therefore well calculated for 
making dead hedges or mending gaps. Neither are 
blackthorn hedges liable to be cropped by cattle; but it 
is not so easily or quickly raised as whitethorn, and its 
roots penetrate the ground to a much greater extent, 
* Tusser : ' Ploughman s Feasting-days,' 

Digitized by 




[March 31, 

Holly makes an excellent as well as beautiful fence, a 
better in fact than almost any species of thorn ; but there 
is a difficulty in getting it to grow, and it grows but 
slowly. When it does grow, however, it makes ample 
amends by its strength, thickness, and durability. It 
delights in a strong soil ; but if it once take root, it will 
thrive even among rocks and stones. Except upon dry 
sandy banks, furze is seldom planted hedge-row fashion ; 
but since it will thrive in such a situation, where most 
other hedging materials would perish, it iB sometimes 
found desirable to plant hedges of furze. Willows and 
elders are adapted for moist and marshy soils ; the latter, 
particularly, may be planted on the margins of brooks 
and rivers to great advantage, for the moisture will cause 
them to thrive, while their numerous roots and suckers 
will have the effect of preventing the stream undermining 
its banks. 

Hedges formed of quicks, or, indeed, all hedges, while 
the plants are young, should be kept clean by frequent 
weedings ; and where young quicks get stunted in their 
growth, so that the shoots are weak, it is usually the best 
plan to cut them off within an inch or two of the ground, 
the effect of which is causing them to throw out much 
stronger shoots than before. Hedges of this sort are 
commonly ready to plash at the end of nine or ten years 
after their being planted; but much depends, in this re- 
spect, upon the nature of the soil and the form of the 
ground upon which the hedge-rows stand. The best 
time for plashing is during October or February. A 
practical writer makes the following remarks upon plash- 
ing hedges : — " Two extremes are to be avoided in the 
plashing of quicks ; the first is the laying the plashes 
down too low and too thick, because that makes the sap 
run wholly into the shoots, and leaves the plashes without 
nourishment, which, with the thickness of the hedge, kills 
them ; the second is not to lay them too high, because 
this draws all the sap into the plashes, stints the shoots 
at the bottom, and renders the hedge so thin, that it will 
neither hinder cattle from going through nor from cropping 
it. When the shoot designed to be plashed is bent, give 
it a small cut with a bill, half through, slanting a little 
downward ; then weave it about the stakes, and trim off 
the small superfluous branches that straggle too far out on 
either side of the hedge." 

Thorn hedges that have been properly managed will 
last almost for ages with a little care in constantly sup- 
plying gaps that are caused by the failure of old stocks 
with younger plants ; but indeed the thorn is one of the 
most durable of all our deciduous trees or shrubs, as the 
sturdy but time-worn stem of many an ancient thorn, 
to be met with in the domains belonging to our nobility 
and gentry, bears ample testimony. 

" Yon thorn — perchance whose prickly speaw 
Have fenced him for three hundred years 
, While fell around his green compeers— 

Yon lonely thorn, would he could tell 
The changes of his parent dell, 
Since he, so grey and stubborn now, 
Waved in each breeze a sapling bough ; 
Would he could tell how deep the shade, 
A thousand mingled branches made ; 
How broad the shadows of the oak, 
How clung the rowan to the rock, 
And through the foliage showed his head, 
With narrow leaves and berries red ; 
What pines on every mountain sprung, 
O'er every dell what birches hung, 
In every breeze what aspens shook, 
What elders shaded every brook ! "• 

We stated in a preceding supplementary number that 
farming could not be carried on without capital ; the ne- 
cessary amount of capital, however, in some measure 
depends upon the nature and character of the farm, that 
is, whether it be a grass or a grain-growing farm. A 
grass farm requires a little more outlay in farm-stock 

f Sir Wi SwUiJMsnnion/ introduction to canto ii, 

in the first onset ; but then there is a smaller outlay in 
wages and farming implements ; and if the incoming 
tenant has to pay the outgoing one for the crops of grain 
in the ground, then a larger sum will be found necessary 
to meet the first year's expenses for an arable farm than 
of one devoted to grazing. And here we venture to make 
a somewhat general remark, which is this, that in agri- 
cultural districts generally, wherever we observe more 
than ordinary bad management upon any particular farm 
or farms, in a great majority of such cases, depend upon 
it, it proceeds from a want of funds to enable such farmers 
to farm as well as their neighbours. In almost any case 
a sum of 500/. would be amply sufficient, with proper 
management, for him who rents a farm of 100/. per 
annum; but as rents increase, the amount of capital ue- 
cessary in farming affairs would not increase in quite a 
corresponding ratio, since certain expenses, such as house- 
hold expenses, farming implements, &c, would not require 
to be doubled, although the rent should be fully twofold. 
Thus, if a farm, as above stated, of 100/. a year rent, re- 
quires 500/. capital to stock and manage it, a farm of 200/. 
a year would require something less than a 1000/., or 
double the amount of the other. Supposing the farm of 
100/. per annum to be an arable one, a farmer beginning 
the world would be called upon to make the following 
disbursements the first year: — household and kitchen 
furniture, 10/. ; farm stock, including four or dve horses, 
averaging 16/. or 18/. each, a couple of cows and some 
young cattle of different ages, with probably a few sheep, 
altogether amounting to 160/. ; farming implements, in- 
cluding two ploughs, as many harrows, a roller, drill, &c, 
with one waggon and two carts, or a couple of waggons, 
amounting to 65/. ; servants' and labourers' wages, 35/. ; 
provisions, 50/. (exclusive of what might be derived from 
the farm during the second half-year) ; sundries, 20/. ; 
and half a year's rent, 50/. Thus we have an outlay 
of 450/., without applying anything towards the value 
of the crop of grain in the ground at the time of coming 
into possession of the form. Neither have we included 
more than half a year's rent, because upon arable farms 
there is sufficient time to get a portion of the grain to 
market before the second half year's rent falls due. 
However, it is infinitely better for the farmer to keep a 
little within the limits of his capital, be it what it may,' 
since a little surplus capital affords him an opportunity 
of taking advantage of the markets, instead of being 
compelled, no matter how low prices of corn may happen 
to be, to send his produce to market in order to meet 
his engagements. The same thing would partially apply 
to dairy farms, but not so decidedly ; for as the produce 
of these farms, cheese and butter, is of a more perishable 
nature than corn, the farmer cannot wait an extra year, 
ot indeed half a year, in order to obtain higher rates for 
his farm products. 

Many landlords object to granting leases of farms, 
preferring to let them from year to year, in order that 
they may ever have an opportunity of taking advantage 
of the times, but not always feeling disposed to lower their 
rents, even when a pressing necessity demands it. This plan 
generally cannot be condemned in too strong terms ; and 
except in cases where the land has previously been 
brought into a state of peculiar productiveness, and the 
object is to keep it in the best possible condition, this 
custom of letting farms from year to year has not any- 
thing to recommend it. But if, as above stated, a tenant 
enters upon a farm in excellent cultivation, should it be 
discovered that he is either a bad manager, or that lie 
would impoverish the soil if allowed to remain upon it, 
this letting by the year affords an opportunity of getting 
rid of such a tenant before he does much injury to the 
property. Very long leases are equally objectionable, 
since they afford the tenant an opportunity of enjoying 
advantages over the landlord (if the contracts contain no 
restrictive clauses) ; for when the leases extend to terms of 

Digitized by 





twenty-one or more years, the best farm may become 
greatly reduced in value before the expiration of the 
lease. Under certain cases the tenant may be the suf- 
ferer ; for should rents be high when a long lease is 
entered upon, with all the privileges it allows him of cul- 
tivating the soil in any way he pleases, such a deprecia- 
tion in the value of farm products may take place during 
so long a period, that the long lease may effect his utter 

Although farms at the present day are divided, gene- 
rally speaking, into arable and grass farms, yet the latter 
sort may properly be divided again into two distinct 
kinds, namely dairy and grazing farms, the fanner pro- 
ducing butter and cheese, while the latter are devoted 
to the pasturing of lean or fat stock, or probably a por- 
tion of both. In some sections of the country the farms 
have no decided character, being partly devoted to graz- 
ing and partly to dairying, while some portion of them 
is always kept under tillage ; whereas in several other 
parts of the country they are exclusively devoted to one 
or other of the above peculiar distinctions. There can be 
no doubt but rich meadow land is better adapted to grass 
than to grain ; but it is frequently a very doubtful matter 
whether soils of an inferior grade are more profitable 
when kept under the plough in an arable state, or laid 
down to grass and grazed. This depends, however, in a 
great measure upon the price of corn in comparison with 
farm stock ; and very materially upon the local situation 
of such farms ; for since indifferent soils require a con- 
siderable quantity of manure of one sort or another, to 
insure tolerable crops of grain, should a farm be situated 
inconveniently for procuring the requisite supply, then 
most likely it would yield a better profit to the occupier 
if kept under grass, and so applied to grazing. It therefore 
commonly happens that when the price of corn continues 
high for a few seasons, that a greater breadth of acres is 
brought under the plough ; but when the reverse occurs, 
that is, when corn sells at a low rate for a few years', 
these indifferent corn soils are again laid down to grass 
and grazed. It is, however, an unusual thing to find 
more than solitary instances of change of this sort, even 
when the greatest fluctuations in the value of the different 
kinds of farm produce take place ; for where whole dis- 
tricts have changed their systems of husbandry, the 
changes have been slow and gradual, and brought about 
by an improved knowledge of the peculiar properties of 
the soil, its adaptation to the production of certain crops, 
rather than to any change from time to time in the rela- 
tive value of the different sorts of farm products. A 
knowledge of the peculiar properties of soils in persons 
connected with farming is almost as necessary as an ac- 
quaintance with the nature and qualities of medical drugs 
and their preparations in persons practising the profession 
of physic. Hear the opinion of the ancients : — 

" To know the culture, habit of the grounds, 
What this refuses, and in what abounds ; 
.Nature on each her nursing care bestows, 
Here springs the corn, there the rich vineyard glows ; 
While fruit-trees bud to deck another place, 
And grasses flourish with unbidden grace.'* # 

It is no more than reasonable to suppose that fanners 
in general cannot he ignorant of the fact, that to farm 
land of a rich soil at double the rent of that which is 
poor, is invariable to be preferred ; and yet it actually 
happens that numbers of what we should call smart intel- 
ligent farmers seem to prefer acting directly the reverse 
of this, being only anxious to occupy a large breadth of 
acres. Now, to cultivate an acre of poor land requires, at 
the least, as great an amount of labour as an acre of 
richer soil, and yet the amount of produce probably will 
not exceed one-half. Suppose the crop to be wheat, the 
poor soil will probably yield two quarters per acre, the 
superior soil four quarters ; and calculating that wheat 

• Virgil's * Georgics/ book i. 

is worth *\s. 6d. per bushel, or 3*. a quarter, there would 
be a clear excess of 6/. an acre in favour of the good soil, 
while the probability is that the extra rent would not be over 
twelve or fifteen shillings, or twenty shillings at the most 
It is true that somebody must rent lands of an inferior qua- 
lity ; but what is here intended to be strongly urged is 
this — that where a farmer has the option of renting 200 
acres of good land, or 400 acres of poor land, in most 
cases it would be greatly to his advantage to engage the 
former. It may be true that large profits have occasion- 
ally been reaped from large farms that have originally 
been poor ; but this has been effected where the occupants 
possessed the means of investing considerable sums in 
reclaiming and improving these poor soils, and who not 
only possessed the means, but also the practical know- 
ledge necessary to bring about the desired beneficial 
results. Long leases too, in 6uch cases, are absolutely 
necessary ; and the times, as the farmers express them- 
selves, must be on the whole favourable. 

Before we close this month's agricultural article, we 
will make a few observations, which, with all due de- 
ference and respect for the farming community at large, 
we are disposed to believe might be of service if duly 
attended to. Now, with regard to early and late sowing, 
each of which has numerous advocates and supporters, 
but upon which, among first-rate practical agriculturists, 
there is still a diversity of opinions, very few writers 
appear to have taken what we consider the proper view 
of the case ; since nearly all of them are the advocates or 
opponents of early sowing. How a novice in farming 
affairs would be puzzled, after reading a dozen authors 
who recommended this, and a like number, equally 
intelligent, who declare it to be wrong. To us it seems 
quite clear, that in a climate so variable and uncertain 
as ours, that it is a piece of perfect absurdity to iusist 
upon getting spring crops into the ground at any parti- 
cular dates ; for suppose, for instance, the time appointed 
by the advocates for early sowing to be the 20th of 
February, it is not at all improbable that frost or snow 
might prevent it, or there might be a succession of con- 
tinued rains ; and every farmer is awaTe of the irapro - 
priety of sowing or planting when the" ground is in an 
unfit state But the advocates for early sowing, being too 
anxious to keep to their adopted dates, would, under 
such circumstances, be likely to seed their ground while 
it was in an unfavourable condition, rather than wait 
until a change of weather brought it into a better state, 
and hence the great probability of an indifferent crop ; 
since all must admit the great advantage of sowing when 
the soil is in a favourable condition for the reception of 
the seed. Under such circumstances it is more than 
probable that the advocate for later sowing would surpass 
his neighbour in the productiveness of his crops in Buch 
a season. The next season the case here supposed might 
happen to be reversed, for an early and long continuance 
of dry weather might favour the advocate for early sow- 
ing, and his crops in consequence would probably turn 
out superior to his neighbour's. The nature of the soil 
also ought to be considered, since so much depends upon 
its quality and condition, that what would be a prudent 
plan to pursue upon one kind of soil might be an equally 
imprudent one to adopt upon soils of a totally different 
character. Thus it is that the prudent manager of farm- 
ing affairs, though possessing all practical knowledge 
connected with his art, permits himself to be governed 
in a great measure by circumstances over which he has 
no control, and does not, in opposition to reason and 
common sense, persist in forcing nature out of her ordi- 
nary course, but rather watches with a judicious observa- 
tion the times and the seasons, always prepared to act 
when a favourable opportunity occurs. Linnaeus has 
said, " Perhaps we cannot promise ourselves a happy 
success by any means so likely as by taking our rule for 
sowing from the leafing of the trees. We must for this 
Digitized by VjOOQIC 



[March 31, 1840. 

end observe in what order every tree puts forth its leaves, 
according to its species, the heat of the atmosphere, and 
the quality of the soil. Afterwards, by comparing toge- 
ther the observations of several years, it will not be dif 
ncult to define from the foliation of trees, if not certainly, 
at least probably, the time when annual plants ought to 
be sown. It will be necessary likewise to observe what 

sowings made in the different parts of the spring produce 
the best crops, that by comparing these with the leafling 
of trees, it may appear which is the most proper season 
for sowing ; nor will it be amiss in like manner to note 
at what time certain plants, especially the most remark- 
able in every province, blow ; that it may appear whether 
the year makes a quicker or slower progress." 

A Journal of the Arrival of the Migratory Summer Birds at Wokingham in Berkshire, from 1829 to 1839 

inclusive, noticed by J. R. JVheeler, 


Day of 



of the 

26 Su 

27 M 

28 Tu 

29 VV 

Sundays and 
Remarkable Days. 

5 Sunday in Lent. 
Old Lady-Day 

Camb. Lent Term endi. 
Oxford Lent Term ends 
6 Sun in Lent. PalmSun 

Easter term begins. 

• • • 
Good Friday. 

• . • 
Easter Day. 
Easter Monday. 
Barter Tuesday. 
Easter Wednesday. 
St. George. 

. |b. 1776 
St .Mark . Duch. ofGloun. 

1 S. aft. East. Low Sund. 

Oxf. and Camb. Easter 
[Terms begin. 


h. m. 
5 37 
5 35 
5 3* 
5 31 

5 28 
5 26 
5 24 
5 22 
5 17 
5 15 
5 13 
5 11 
5 8 
5 G 
5 4 
5 2 
5 I) 

4 43 
4 41 
4 40 
4 38 
4 36 

Eq. Time. 

3 53 

3 35 

3 17 

2 59 

2 42 

2 24 

2 7 

1 50 

1 33 

1 17 




after 2 





1 12 
1 25 
1 37 

1 49 

2 11 

2 21 

2 31' 

2 40 

2 49 

2 57 



6 32 
6 33 
6 35 
6 37 

6 38 
6 40 
6 42 
6 43 
6 45 
6 46 
6 48 

6 50 
6 51 
6 53 
6 55 
6 56 

6 58 




7 10 
7 11 
7 13 
7 15 
7 16 
7 18 









22 9 

25 9 

7 19127-9 


h. m. 
5m 3 
5 16 
5 30 

5 47 

6 11 

6 46 

7 36 

8 43 

10 3 

11 27 

2 10 

3 25 

4 40 

5 54 

7 8 

8 22 

9 36 

10 48 

11 53 



h. m. 
6 50 

8 18 

9 52 

11 22 


1 51 

2 36 

3 7 
3 29 

5 19 

5 47 

6 26 

7 18 

8 22 

9 34 
10 51 


1 30 

2 51 

4 15 

5 43 


Barometer. Ins. 
Mean height 29-881 
Highest • 30-540 
Lowest . 29-200 

Mean dew-point 43*5 
Highest . 58 

Lowest . 27 

Mean dryness 6-4 

Mean greatest do L 

of day . 12*8 

Greatest dryness 26 

Mean temperature 49*9 
Highest . 74 

Lowest 29 

Mean great, of Sun 28*1 
Greatest power 47 
Mean cold of terrest. 6*2 
Greatest ditto 14 


Mean qty. of rain 1*786 
Metfnofevap. 2*290 

TnUe of the triads. 

Days. Dew-P. 
'" 40° 

April • morhiwo. 
5 5Sun.lnLt.Exod. 3.... Acts t 
12 6 „ „ » Mtt.86 

17 Good Frldy GnJttto t.20 Johnl* 
19 Easter day Ex. IS Roto. 6 
26 1 altr East. Nb. 16 Acts 23 


AprilSExod. 5... Heft. 7 
..12 ,. 10 
» 17 Isaiah 53 1 Fet~2 
,. 19 Exod. 14 Acts 2 to y. 82 
N 96Nomb2? Un.8 


2 * 

N.E. . 




S.R. . 




S.W. . 




N.W. . 


New /. . 2d day. 3h. 21m. aft- 
First Quart. 9th day. 6h. 29m. mo* 
Full . . . 16th day. 7h.55m.aft. 
*" - * .llh.47m.aft 

Last Quart. SMth day. 1 

>*- en — o — I •£-»* 

ib» «t CO CO CO N>?" 

o — tc co£ t*0 

o> o» os en cj» on ?" 

Cn 0> ***( 00 <C OJ3 

to bo tocococoF 

<o <o to 00 00 00?" 


«M C0<O CT> CO tO0 






CnS* C* en In 5> I g g> 
cn en o» en en I T°. 

>,• The Office of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge is at 59. Lincoln's Inn Fields, 
Printed by Whuam Ciowia and Sows, Stamford Street* 

Digitized by 




Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. 



[April 4, 1840. 

public procession.— the bey's inauguration.— the vdivan.— nuptial doings. 

[From the Rer. J. Ewald's • Journal,' j 


Tunis; October 15.— Great apprehensions have been 
entertained here for some months in consequence of the 
report that the Turks intended to proceed against Tunis 
in the same manner as against Tripoli, and that the 
Grand Seignior was fitting out a fleet destined for this 
place. In confirmation of the rumour, nothing had been 
beard of the Sachab Ettaba, who had gone to Constantinople 
some time since, to fetch a caftan for the new Bey. His 
arrival, however, a few days ago, banished all these fears, 
particularly as he had concluded his business to the en- 
tire satisfaction of the Bey. His quarantine having ex- 
pired, he this moining made his public entry, and pro- 
ceeded to his country-house, Sidi Ismael, which is situated 
between Tunis and Bardo, the residence of the Bey. The 
chief members of the divan met him on horseback, about 
half way between this jriace and Gouletta. Three thou- 
aand men also advanced to welcome him and to conduct 
the ambassador to his own dwelling. The procession was 
beautifully arranged ; in front came the members of the 
divan, aged venerable-looking men ; next appeared the 
Sachab Ettaba, on a richly caparisoned horse, in the new 
uniform of a general, blue with gold epaulettes, bearing 
in his right hand a blue silk bag, containing the firman 
°f the Turkish emperor, and in his led another blue silk 
hag, in which was a sword, sent to the Bey by the Grand 
Seignior. Yesterday the solemn recognition of the Bey 
took place, and, wishing to see it, I went to Bardo, the 
residence. The throne was set up in the great fore-court 
Vol. IX. 

of the castle, and towards eight o'clock the Bey appeared, 
surrounded by the princes, who were followed by his five 
headsmen, in red uniforms. When the Bey sat down on 
the throne, the princes ranged themselves on the right, 
and the headsmen with the nobility on the left. The 
chief headsman then pronounced a blessing, in a loud 
voice, upon which the nobles approached and kissed the 
Bey's hand. All the members of the divan, consisting of 
three hundred autopashas and four hundred bulkpashas, 
now made their appearance. The whole govemment is 
of Turkish origin, for which reason all the members of 
the divan must be soldiers and of Turkish descent. 
Immediately on the birth of a boy whose father is of 
Turkish blood, he receives a pension of a nasri daily. 
After he has at^aiped the age of fifteen, he is enrolled as a 
soldier, and has four nasri per day. After having served 
for some time he is raised to the dignity of autopasha, and 
afterwards to that of bulkpasha, which constitutes him a 
member of the divan. Formerly the standing army was 
entirely composed of Turks ; no Moors were admitted 
into it, and even now all the fortresses of the country 
are garrisoned with Turks. But as the army has now 
been reorganised, and consists of about five thousand 
men of all nations, the Turkish militia is losing its influ- 
ence, and will, in all probability, be gradually abolished. 
The members of the divan were formerly dressed in a 
very singular manner, but their present costume, which 
is according to the pattern set by the Grand Seignior, is 


Digitized by 




[April 4, 

very simple ; they all appeared without turbans, but wore 
the red caps, or schaschia. When the divan had entered, 
all the officers and subalterns of the two new standing 
regiments came in, followed by the European consuls. 
Only the members of the divan had seats. As soon as 
the various persons were assembled round the throne, the 
flags and the horse-tails were brought in. The Sachab 
Ettaba now made his appearance, with the robe of honour 
which he had brought from Constantinople, consisting of 
an upper coat or cloak, which the Bey immediately put 
on. He then decorated him with the sultan's order, 
which was composed of brilliants, and girded him with 
the new sword ; the firman was read aloud, together with 
numerous other congratulatory letters which the Bey had 
received from Constantinople. The assembly was then 
permitted to kiss the hand of his Mohammedan highness, 
an honour which was extended to the European consuls. 
The military band played, and coffee was handed round. 
It is customary at all the great festivities to invite the 
European consuls to court. Some years back this was 
the case, at the nuptials of a prince, the son of the Bey, 
who, in addition to his four wives, was going to marry 
the daughter of the Sasch Mufti, chief of the ecclesias- 
tics. The consuls were invited the day before the wed- 
ding, but the English consul, who did not mean to be 
present, lent me his carriage, and I proceeded with the 
rest of the consuls to the residence. On arriving at the 
court we drove through a covered archway, which led to 
the entrance of the fore-court, where a crowd of armed 
Mamelukes were stationed. We alighted in the grand 
square in front of the palace, and found a great number 
of Arabs and Moors, who had come to congratulate the 
Bey. We were conducted into the chamber of the chief 
secretary of state, and soon informed that the Bey was 
ready to receive us. We were then led into the interior 
of the palace, to the Bey's great state-chamber, before the 
entrance of which sat numerous female slaves, singing 
and playing on musical instruments. The hall into 
which we were ushered had no window, and was illu- 
mined only by a single wax-light. I could scarcely 
see auy thing, and groped about like a blind person. 
This darkness lasted, however, but a moment, and by 
the feeble glimmer of the wax taper I perceived the 
Bey in the back-ground, seated upon his throne. He 
was dressed in blue silk, wore a gold dagger in his 
girdle, and a large brilliant on his finger, which, in the 
obscurity of the apartment, showed a magnificent play 
of colours. The consuls approached his highness and 
kissed the flat side of his hand, an honour which is granted 
only to the Christians, and which was also extended to 
me. The Mohammedans always kiss the hollow of the 
hand. When we had seated ourselves to the right and 
left of the Bey, I had leisure to look about me a little. 
What a surprise ! for the first moment I fancied myself 
translated to a fairy palace. The walls of the saloon 
were hung with tapestry embroidered in gold, and a mul- 
titude of richly-adorned females were ranged along the 
tides of the room. Daggers, sabres, guns, ornamented 
with gold and precious stones, were hung all round. 
Clocks, fine porcelain, and all sorts of rich European 
furniture were scattered about in strange confusion, and 
the rloor was covered with a most costly carpet. The 
obscurity of the dimly-lighted saloon, the dazzling glitter 
of the gold and precious stones, the incessant ticking and 
striking of the clocks, the presence of the whole court, of 
the Christian consuls, the Bey with all his family, com- 
bined to make altogether a wonderful impression upon 
me. After a short pause, refreshments were handed 
round, and while we partook of them, the military band, 
stationed outside, struck up. 

The Bey put several insignificant questions to the con- 
suls, to which they made similar replies. We had passed 
about half an hour in this enchanted hall, when the Bey 
arose, which was a signal that the audience was over. 

We were conducted through the various apartments of 
the harem, and saw all the costly articles they contained. 
The bride's chamber was distinguished by its beauty and 
richness. When we had finished our wanderings, we 
found the Bey and his court standing in a great hall, 
where he dismissed us very graciously. The same day, 
at three o'clock, the bride made her entry into the palace. 
The road from Tunis to Bardo was lined on both sides 
with crowds anxious to see the procession. The Arabs 
had horse-races, and diverted themselves with their na- 
tional games, even upon the public road. The game 
consisted chiefly in mounting their horses with the ra- 
pidity of an arrow, and loading and filing their long guns 
while riding. About three o'clock the procession, with 
the bride, left the gate of Tunis, and slowly took the 
road to Bardo. It was opened by twenty-eight covered 
carriages, containing the female relations of the bride, 
followed by the carriage of the bride, drawn by eight 
mules, each led by two of the body-guard, large parties 
of whom also surrounded the carriages. The procession 
was closed by a crowd of carriages and horses. The 
next morning the consuls' ladies were invited to visit the 
bride, a favour never granted to the men. They were 
sumptuously entertained, and conducted to her apartment, 
where she was seated on an elevated throne. She was 
laden with precious stones, and, not being permitted to 
move, or even to lift up her eyes, she sat the whole day 
like a statue, looking on the ground, to be quietly gazed 

Soon after this wedding, I was present at that of the 
Sachab Ettaba, to whom the Bey gave one of his daughters 
in marriage, on which occasion a very singular circum- 
stance occurred. When the Sachab Ettaba for the first 
time entered a room with his bride, she trod upon his 
toe, which is a sign of content, and implies that the 
husband is to be the slave of the wife, she being a 
princess both by birth and authority. It was so un- 
derstood by the proud minister, who left the apartment 
in a rage, and instantly repaired to the Bey to demand 
vengeance for the insult. The Bey and his whole 
court were thrown into the greatest consternation, and 
he immediately summoned all his wives to ascertain 
which of them had urged the young princess, who was 
only thirteen years of age, to this step. It turned out 
to be her sister, who was in like manner married to a 
person in high rank, who had raised himself from a 
state of slavery. The women were punished, and the 
offended minister left Tunis the same day, and repaired 
to the interior to extort money from the Bey's subjects. 


The application of machinery to manufactures is valuable 
in proportion to the number of articles of one kind re- 
quired to be produced ; since if there be no likelihood of 
a large demand arising for any one article, it is not often 
that the expense of fitting up machinery is willingly in- 
curred : but let it be an article for which a demand is at 
all likely to arise, and nothing is too trifling to be consi- 
dered unworthy of the application of machinery. It is 
probable that some of our commonest children's toys 
would present instances of this ; but the articles of pro- 
duction to which the present paper refers, though trifling 
in individual value, have collectively an importance which 
renders them worthy of a brief notice. 

Ships' biscuits are now made by machinery ; and one 
of the reasons for this has been that the manual prepara- 
tion of them was too slow and too costly during the last 
war. A landsman knows very little of the true value of 
a biscuit : to him it is a trifle — an occasional apology for 
a meal ; and whether he calls it " Abernethy," " butter," 
" fancy," or " sponge " biscuit, he deems it nothing but 
a trifle. With a seaman it is far different : to him biscuit 
is tread— the guly bread that be cats for mouths tog*: 

Digitized by 





ther. There are many reasons why common loaves of 
bread could not be used during a long voyage ; the prin- 
cipal is, that, containing a fermenting principle, or leaven, 
they would soon become musty and unfit for food, if made 
previous to the voyage ; while the preparation of them 
on board ship would be subject to numerous objections, 
which we need not stop to explain. Biscuits contain no 
leaven, and being well baked throughout,* they suffer 
but little change during a long voyage. 

The allowance of biscuit to each seaman on board a 
king's ship is, we believe, about a pound per day (aver- 
aging six biscuits to the pound). The supply of a man- 
of-war for several months is consequently very large ; 
and it often happened during the last war that the dif- 
ficulty of making biscuit fast enough was so great that at 
Portsmouth waggon-loads were unpacked in the streets 
and conveyed on board ships just on the point of leaving 
the harbour, there not being sufficient time to convey the 
biscuit from the contractors to the victualling-department 
in the usual way. Some of the biscuits were baked in 
the Royal yards, and some contracted for. 

We shall now describe the mode of making biscuits by 
hand ; and afterwards speak of the improved method. 
The bakehouse at Gosport contained nine ovens, and to 
each was attached a gang of five men — the furner, the 
mate, the driver, the breakman, and the idleman. The 
requisite proportions of flour and water were put into a 
large trough, and the driver with his naked arms mixed 
the whole up together into the form of a dough — a very 
laborious operation. The dough was then taken from 
the trough and put on a wooden platform called the 
break. On this platform worked a roller, called the 
break-staff, five or six inches in diameter, and seven feet 
long. One end of this was loosely attached by a kind of 
staple to the wall, and the breakman, riding or sitting on 
the other end, worked the roller to and fro over the 
dough, by an uncouth jumping or shuffling movement. 
When the dough had become kneaded by this barbarous 
method into a thin sheet, it was removed to the mould- 
ing board, and cut into slips by means of an enormous 
knife ; these slips were then cut into pieces, each large 
enough for one biscuit, and then worked into a circular 
form by the hand. As each biscuit was shaped it was 
handed to a second workman, who stamped the king's 
mark, the number of the oven, &c, on the biscuit. The 
biscuit was then docked, that is, pierced with holes by an 
instrument adapted to the purpose. The finishing part 
of the process was one in which remarkable dexterity was 
displayed. A man stood before the open door of the 
oven, having in his hand the handle of a long shovel 
called a peel, the other end of which was lying flat in the 
oven. Another man took the biscuits as fast as they 
were formed and stamped, and jerked or threw them 
into the oven with such undeviating accuracy that they 
should always fall on the peel. The man with the peel 
then arranged the biscuits side by side over the whole 
floor of the oven. Nothing could exceed (in manual 
labour alone) the regularity with which all this was 
done. Seventy biscuits were thrown into the oven, and 
regularly arranged in one minute, the attention of each 
man being rigorously directed to his own department ; 
for a delay of a single second on the part of any one man 
would have disturbed the whole gang. The biscuits do 
not require many minutes' baking ; and as the oven is 
kept open during the time that it is being filled, the bis- 
cuits first thrown in would be overbaked were, not some 
precaution taken to prevent it. The moulder therefore 
made those which were to be first thrown into the oven 
tager than the subsequent ones, and diminished the size 
by a nice gradation. 
The mode in which, since about the year 1833, ships' 

* Biscuits were originally •* twice-baked f hence the French 
and German names, " biscuit," and " zwei-baek." 

biscuits have been raade by machinery is this:— The 
meal or flour is conveyed into a hollow cylinder four or 
^t feet long and about three feet in diameter, and the 
water, the quantity of which is regulated by a gauge, ad- 
mitted to it. A shaft, armed with long knives, works 
rapidly round in the cylinder, with such astonishing effect 
that, in the short space of two minutes, five hundred- 
weight of dough is produced, infinitely better made than 
that mixed by the naked arms of a man The dough is 
removed from the cylinder and placed under the break- 
ing-rollers. These latter, which perform the office of 
kneading, are two in number, and weigh fifteen hundred- 
weight each. They are rolled to and fro over the surface 
of the dough by means of machinery, and in five mi- 
nutes the dough is perfectly kneaded. The sheet of 
dough, which is about two inches thick, is then cut into 
pieces half a yard square, which pass under a second set 
of rollers, by which each piece is extended to the size of 
six feet by three, and reduced to the proper thickness for 

This sheet of dough is now to be cut up into biscuits, 
and no part of the operations is more beautiful than the 
mode by which this is accomplished. The dough is 
brought under a stamping or cutting-out press, similar 
in effect, but not in detail, to that by which circular pieces 
for coius are cut out of a sheet of metal. A series of 
sharp knives are so arranged that by one movement they 
cut, out of a piece of dough a yard square, about sixty 
hexagonal biscuits. The reason for a hexagonal (six- 
sided) shape is, that not a particle of waste is thereby 
occasioned, as the sides of the hexagonals accurately fit 
into those of the adjoining biscuits; whereas circular 
pieces cut out of a large surface always leave vacant 
spaces between. That a flat sheet can be divided into 
hexagonal pieces without any waste of material, may be 
seen from the annexed cut. Each biscuit is stamped 

with the king's mark, the number of the oven, &c, as 
well as punctured with holes, by the same movement 
which cuts it out of the piece of dough. 

The hexagonal cutters do not sever the biscuits com- 
pletely asunder ; so that a whole sheet of them can be 
put into the oven at once on a large peel or shovel 
adapted for the purpose. About ten or twelve minutes 
are sufficient to bake them : they are then withdrawn, and 
broken asunder by the hand. 

The corn for the biscuits is purchased at the markets, 
and cleaned, ground, and dressed at the government 
mills ; in quality it is a mixture of fine flour and mid- 
dlings, the bran and pollard being removed. The ovens 
for baking are of wrought-iron, with an area of about a 
hundred and sixty square feet. About 112 lbs. weight 
of biscuits are put into the oven at once ; this is called a 
suit, and is reduced to about 100 lbs. by the baking. 
From twelve to sixteen suits can be baked in each oven 
every day, even by the hand process ; but it is probable 
that the machine-made biscuits might be baked with 
much greater rapidity when required. The men engaged 
are dressed in clean check shirts, and white linen trowscrs, 
apron, and cap ; and every endeavour is made to observe 
the most scrupulous cleanliness. 

We may now make a few remarks on the comparative 

Digitized by VjOOQ IC 



merits of the hand and the machine processes. If the 
meal and the water with which the hiscuite are made 
be not thoroughly mixed up, there will be some parts 
moister than others. Now it was formerly found that 
the dough was not well mixed by the arms of the work- 
man; the consequence of which was that the dry parts 
became burnt up, or else that the moist parts- acquired a 
peculiar kind of hardness which the sailors called 
" flint :" these defects are now removed by the thorough 
mixing and kneading which the ingredients receive by 
the machine. We have said that 500 lbs. of dough is 
mixed by the machine in two minutes, and kneaded in 
four or live minutes; we need hardly say how much 
quicker this is than men's hands could effect it. The 
biscuits are cut out and stamped sixty at a time, instead 
of singly, and thrown into the oven a sheet at a time, 
instead of singly : besides the time thus saved, the biscuits 
become more equally baked, by the oven being more 
speedily filled. The nine ovens at Gosport used to em- 
ploy 45 men to produce about 1500 lbs. of biscuit per 
hour : 16 men and boys will now produce, by the same 
number of oveus, 12,000 biscuits per hour. 

The comparative expense is thus stated : — Under the 
old system, wages, and wear and tear of utensils, cost 
about Is. 6'i. per cwt. of biscuit : under the new system, 
the cost is 5t/. The bakehouses at Deptford, Gosport, 
and Plymouth could produce seven or eight thousand 
tons of biscuits annually, at a saving of 12,000/. per 
annum from the cost under the old system. The advan- 
tages of machine-made over hand-made biscuits, there- 
fore, are many : — quality, cleanliness, expedition, cheap- 
ness, and independence of government contractors. 


Among the numerous subjects which have engaged the 
attention of ingenious men since the beginning of the 
present century, that of artificial illumination is not the 
least deserving of attention. Oil, supplied with a wick 
in order to separate it into minute streams, was probably, 
for thousands of years, almost the only means employed 
to procure light in the absence of the sun. At a later 
period, candies, made of a substance capable of yielding 
flame, came into use. The wax, spermaceti, tallow, &c, 
employed for their fabrication, however different in their 
nature, gave out light on precisely the same principles ; 
the following being the steps of the process: — 1. The 
neat applied to the wick melts a portion of the upper 
part of the tallow, &c, converting it into a kind of liquid 
oil. 2. This liquid ascends between the fibres of the 
wick in the same manner, and by the operation of the 
same principle, of capillary attraction, as water ascends 
through a lump of sugar. 3. The melted tallow, coming 
in contact with the flame, is converted into vapour, 
which ascends in the form of a cone ; its temperature 
being sufficiently elevated to allow it to combine with the 
oxygen of the surrounding air; while the carbon, or 
charcoal, of the vapour is separated in a minutely divided 
state, and, being brought to a white heat, renders the 
flame much more luminous. The subject of combustion, 
or the combined production of light and heat, is beset 
with many difficulties, into which we purposely avoid 
entering here, and have contented ourselves with enume- 
rating the more obvious steps in the conversion of solid 
tallow into luminous flame. Where oil lamps are used, 
all these steps, except of course the melting, occur ; and 
they follow in the same order. 

Such were the means employed for the production of 
light until the beginning of the present century, when a 
most important application of chemical knowledge was 
made. A piece of coal contains, among other elements, 
those which are met with in a tallow candle, although 
in different proportions, and combined in a different 
manner. We all know from experience, how often, in 

[A*BIL 4 • 

winter, a cheerful fire makes us forget that our candles 
are not yet lighted ; and the light conduces quite as much 
as the heat to the satisfaction we feel : the flame thus 
produced being fully equal to that from a candle. These 
facts suggested the happy idea of decomposing coal into 
its component parts, of conveying the gases thus produced, 
after purification, from place to place, and of kindling 
them without the aid of any wick— constituting the 
modern gas-light. The history of this invention and 
the mode of proceeding are detailed in the ' Penny Maga- 
zine,' vol. iii.,pp. 373, 421, &c. 

After the adoption of gas-lights in the public streets, 
the circumstance which seems to have contributed most 
to further inquiries on the subject was the necessity for 
an intense light in lighthouses. The principal object of 
those buildings, as is well known, is to point out to ma- 
riners the exact locality of some spots dangerous to 
navigation ; and in order that this may be effected by 
night as well as by day, a strong light is indispensable. 
The old custom was to kindle large coal fires in the 
upper part of the lighthouse, and this plan was adopted 
at the Lizard Point as late as the year 1812. But this 
rude and wasteful system had been long before superseded 
at most lighthouses. The Eddystone, up to the year 
1811, was lighted by twenty-four wax-candles ; while at 
some other places an enormous lamp with a wick twelve 
inches broad was employed. To aid the illuminating 
power of these candles and lamps, polished reflectors, 
consisting of a number of facets, or flat surfaces, were 
placed behind them, so that the rays of light which issued 
in that direction should be reflected back, and directed 
seaward. But all these plans were laid aside some years 
ago for another in every way superior, namely, Argand 
lamps and parabolic reflectors — respecting each of which 
we shall say a few words. 

The flame yielded by a common lamp or candle is 
superficial only ; its centre being occupied by vapour not 
yet ignited. As a proof of this, we have seen a little 
cup of gunpowder held in the middle of the flame of a 
candle without being ignited. The reason of this is, that, 
in consequence of the form of the wick, no atmospheric 
air can reach the centre of the flame, and that there- 
fore the combustion of the inflammable vapour cannot 
take place at that part. Now the Argand lamp (so 
named from its inventor) was a great improvement in 
this respect ; for its wick being hollow, the lamp admitted 
of being so constructed as that a current of air could 
always pass up through the middle of the wick: and 
as the rising vapour was ignited both within and without, 
a more brilliant light was produced, and the quantity of 
smoke (which is actual waste of combustible matter) was 
diminished. This was the lamp in use in most of our Lon- 
don shops twenty or thirty years ago ; as will be recog- 
nised from the annexed cut (Fig. 1) : the reservoir of oil 
is above the level of the wick, and the latter has a hollow 
channel in the middle of the wick. 

The parabolic reflector consists of two plates of silver 
and copper united by intense pressure, and then hammered 
out into that curved form called a paraboloid, of which 
the small end of an egg may afford a tolerable idea. The 
silver side being concave, and the light placed at or near 
the focus, a few inches in front of the centre of the concave 
surface, all the rays of light which fall on the paraboloid 
are reflected back, either in parallel rays, or diverging like 
a cone, according to the position of the lamp. 

Such has been the principle adopted in nearly all our 
lighthouses. A parabolic reflector, from twenty to thirty 
inches in diameter, has a powerful Argand lamp in front 
of it, the illumination from which it so much augments, 
that the light at Beachy Head has been known to be visible 
at a distance of forty miles. As the reflected light does not 
diverge very widely, it is necessary to have several reflect- 
ors, with a lamp to each, in order to render it available for 
u wide circuit of sea. What is called a revolving light is 

Digitized by 





The reservoir A terminates in a neck, which screws into the 
upper part of the oil-cistern B ; when it is unscrewed and in- 
rtrted, the oil is poured into the reservoir at the hole N ; by mov- 
ing the handle L, the short tube O is made to cover this hole and 
prevent the oil from ruuning out, and the reservoir is then screwed 
into its place, and the handle depressed so as to uncover the hole 
and to allow the passage of the oil into the cistern B. Within 
the perpendicular tube P there is placed a smaller tube Q, and 
both are closed at bottom and open at the top ; the space between 
these contains oil and the wick R, stretched over the short tube S, 
riling a little above the tubes at T. The outer surface of the 
tube Q has a spiral groove formed round it, and a tooth in the ring 
or gallery G entering this groove, when it is turned round, causes 
the tube and wick attached to it to ascend or descend, so as to re- 
gulate the flame. On account of the nature of the reservoir 
which contains the oil, a constant supply will be kept up at the 
level marked by the dotted line U, both in the cistern B and in 
the wick-tubes F and Q. 

a contrivance by which the frame-work containing the 
lamps and reflectors revolves on a central axis once in a 
minute or more. The object of this is to prevent the light 
from the lighthouse being mistaken for the fire produced 
by any kiln, &c. on shore — a mistake which has some- 
times led to the loss of shipping. Once or twice in 
every revolution the lamps of the revolving light are 
invisible at sea, and the identity of the lighthouse is thus 

In the year 1824, the House of Commons determined 
on a new survey of Ireland, in which Lieutenant Drum- 
rnond was to be engaged. Operations of this kind are 
conducted by parcelling out the country into very large 
triangles, the three angles or corners of which are fre- 
quently seventy or eighty miles distant from each other ; 
and some means have to be adopted for making those sta- 
tions visible at these great distances. Sometimes the light 
of the sun is reflected from a surface of polished tin ; 
sometimes Bengal lights are fired at night ; and at other 
times, a powerful Argand lamp is placed in front of a 
parabolic reflector, or behind a convex lens. Still some* 
thing more powerful was required, and Lieutenant Drum- 
raond suggested the happy expedient of employing what 
is called the Lime light — a suggestion which had, we 
believe, also been made by Professor Hare and Mr. 
Gurney. As this lime light, or Drummond light, is 
one of considerable importance, we shall here explain 
the nature of it. 

When some of the earths, such as lime, magnesia, &c, 
are exposed to intense heat, they become brilliantly 
luminous, to an extent that can scarcely be conceived by 
those who have not actually witnessed the experiment. 
Now, it has been long known that if a stream of oxygen 
gas be thrown in a jet on a flame produced from spirit 
of wine or alcohol, a very intense heat is produced. 
Lieut. Drummond accordingly selected different sub- 
stances, such as lime, zirconia, magnesia, oxide of zinc, 
&c, and placed small pieces of them so that they might 
be acted upon by the name of spirit, aided by a jet of 
oxygen gas. It was thus found that a little ball of lime, 
less than half an inch in diameter, afforded a light equal 
to that of thirty-seven Argand lamps : the other sub- 
stances were less brilliant than lime. 

These experiments were so satisfactory that an appa- 
ratus was speedily fitted up. A parabolic reflector was 
placed behind a small arrangement, in which a ball of 
lime was acted upon by a spirit flame and a jet of oxygen, 
so as to produce light which, when aided by reflection 
from the paraboloid, should be visible at a great distance. 

In Fig. 2, is seen the reflector, with a little reservoir of 
spirit behind it, a lime-ball in the focus, and several jets 
passing up nearly close to the ball. 

As an instance of the power of such a light as this, we 
may mention the following circumstance : — Two of the 
stations in the Irish survey were 67 miles asunder ; one 
being a few miles from Londonderry, and the other near 
Belfast From August 23rd till October 26th, Colonel 
Colby and the other officers engaged were totally unable 
to see at one station an elevated object erected on the 
other, on account of the intervening haze. It was there- 
fore proposed to try the lime light ; and after much dif- 
ficulty, on account of tempestuous weather and the ex- 
posed situation of the hill, the apparatus was brought 


Lieut. Drummond's Light. 

into action ; and the light produced was instantly seen 
by the officers at the Belfast station. It is not a little 
calculated to excite surprise that a piece of lime not 

Digitized by 





larger than a boy's marble should, when exposed to the 
action of a flame which in itself is scarcely luminous enough 
to read by, yield a light capable of being seen 67 miles 
off; a distance almost equal to that from London to 
Portsmouth ! 

In 1826, Lieut. Drummond communicated the result 
above noticed to the Royal Society, and at the same time 
suggested that the same light might possibly be available 
for lighthouses. Shortly after this, a proposal was made 
by the Brethren of the Trinity House (in whom the ma- 
nagement of most British lighthouses is vested) that a 
series of experiments should be made on the availability 
of the lime light for such purposes. Such experiments were 
accordingly made; and they are described in the * Philoso- 
phical Transactions ' for 1830. The intense heat before 
applied to the lime was, as we have said, obtained by 
directing a stream of oxygen gas through a flame of 
spirit of wine. But although the necessary apparatus 
was very portable, it was rather too costly for a perpetual 
light, such as is required in a lighthouse. It was there- 
fore resolved by Lieut. Drummond to substitute hydrogen 
gas for spirit of wine, and the result was highly success- 
ful. The arrangement of the apparatus was this : — The 
two gases, oxygen and hydrogen, were prepared by che- 
mical processes, and kept in two gasometers. From these 
gasometers pipes conveyed the respective gases to a small 
Fig. 3. 

Parabolic Reflector, 
reservoir, where the two gases united. The united gases 
then passed through wire-gauze screens, and through a 
very fine tube in two branches, and issued directly upon 
a ball of lime placed between the ends of the tubes. The 
greater part of the apparatus was placed behind a para- 
bolic reflector, but the lime-ball and the fine tube were in 
front oi it, and in the focus of the curve. 

In order to compare the light produced by such an 
arrangement with others previously known, a temporary 
revolving lighthouse was erected on a hill at Purfleet, so 
as to be visible at Trinity wharf, Blackwall, ten miles and 
a quarter distant. This lighthouse had four sides or 
faces, which were provided with lights of different kinds : 
— in the 1st was an Argand lamp before a parabolic re- 
flector ; in the 2nd were seven lamps and seven reflectors ; 
in the 3rd was a powerful lamp with a convex lens before 
it ; in the 4th was the lime light. Lieut. Drummond super- 
intended the experiments at Purfleet, and Captain Basil 
Hall observed the effects at Blackwall. The Argand 
lamp produced a small but good light : — the seven Argand 
lamps produced a light of the same character, but obvi- 
ously more brilliant : — the lamp behind a lens produced 
a light whiter and more intense than the seven reflected 
lamps : — the last of the four, that is, the lime or Drummond 
light, greatly surpassed all the others in vividness and 
brilliant whiteness ; indeed a distinct shadow was thrown 
by it of the hand and fingers against a brick wall. The 
Drummond light was then exhibited in company with 
each of the others in succession ; when its comparative 
intensity was rendered still more obvious. 

The experiments which Lieut. Drummond made, led 
him to the conclusion that the absolute quantity of light 
emitted by a ball of lime three-eighths of an inch in dia- 
meter, is equal to that from thirteen Argand burners ; 
while the intensity of the light at any one given spot is in 
the lime-ball 264 times that of the Argand burner. 

[To be oontinued.] 


The Orkney Islands are a group of islands belonging to 
Great Britain. They are situated north of the north-easiem 
extremity of Scotland, between 58° 44' and 59° 24' N. 
lat, and between 2° 22' and 8° 25' W. long. They are 
divided from the mainland of Great Britain by the Pent- 
land Frith, which is 5* miles wide at its eastern entrance 
between Duncansby Head and Borough Point in the 
island of South Ronaldsha. The flux and reflux of the 
water during the run of the tides through this strait is 
broken by the Pentland Skerries, which lie a little mor e 
than 4 miles to the north-east of Duncansby Head, and 2} 
miles south of the island of South Ronaldsha ; and farther 
westward by the islands of Swona and Stroma, the latter 
of which lies within H mile of the shore of Caithness. 
A strong current is thus produced running at the rate of 
from three to nine miles an hour in various parts of the 
Frith at one and the same time ; a circumstance which 
causes so much sea in gales of wind as to render the 
strait very dangerous to deep-laden vestels. There are 
two lighthouses erected on the Great Pentland Skerry, 
and another on Dun net Head, on the south side of the 
western entry to the Frith, with the assistance of which 
the strait may be navigated with comparative safety in 
moderate weather. 

The group consists of 67 islands and islets, 27 of which 
are inhabited; the remainder, called holmes, are only 
visited during the summer for the preparation of kelp or 
as pasture-grounds. The largest of these islands, called 
Pomona, or Mainland, extends from south-east to north- 
west, about 18 miles, and divides the group into two por- 
tions. The islands between Pomona and the mainland 
of Great Britain are called the South Isles, aud those 
north of Pomona, the North Isles. Eight of the South 
Islands and three Skerries and fifteen of the North Isles 
are permanently inhabited. They contained in 1831 a 
population of 28,847, viz. : — 

South Isles. Inh 

Swona and Pentland Skerry . 80 

South Ronaldsha . . . 2,265 

Burra 357 

Flota and Fara ... 369 

Digitized by 


J 640.] 



South Isle*. 


Hoy . 







• • 


Pomona, or Mainland 


Hunda . 



North IkM. 


• • 


Gairsa . 



Weir . 




• • • 


Rousa . 



• • • 


Eda and Fara 



Stronsa, Papa Stronsa, and Ling- 


• . 


Sanda . 

• • • 


North Ronaldsha 

• • • 


Papa Westra 

. . • 



• • • 



Some of the islands have rocky shores presenting 
abrupt precipices towards the west, and rise in low rounded 
hills covered with heath, and with a considerable depth 
of peat-mould. Others are low and flat, with sandy 
shores. There are no trees on any of the islands, with 
the exception of a few of small size in the neighbourhood 
of the town of Kirkwall, although at some remote period 
they would appear to have been covered with wood, 
from the numerous remains found imbedded in the peat 

The geological character of these islands is very simple; 
the whole group, with the exception of a small granitic 
district near Stromness, consisting of jocks belonging to 
the old red-sandstone formation. The prevailing rock is 
a species of sandstone flag, much charged with argilla- 
ceous matter. It occurs in distinct strata, usually slightly 
inclined, forming hills of small elevation inland, which 
however often present very magnificent cliffs round the 
coasts. The colour varies from pale greenish to blackish 
grey. Occasionally it contains bitumen, and it is the 
repository of remarkable fossil fishes. 

Connected with the sandstone flag are beds of common 
sandstone of a yellowish or tile-red colour. It forms the 
chief part of the mountains of Hoy, the highest point in 
Orkney, and also several headlands in Pomona and Eda. 
Dykes of basalt and greenstone traverse these rocks in 
Hoy, Pomona, &c, and a bed of basalt was noticed by 
Dr. Traill in Hoy. 

The granite tract appears in the form of a chain of 
moderate hills, occupying a length of six miles, and 
a breadth of from one to half a mile, and ends at 
Stromness. It is everywhere in immediate contact with 
a coarse conglomerate, consisting of nodules of quartz, 
and fragments of granite and sandstone, imbedded in an 
arenaceous base. The granite, conglomerate, and sand- 
stone flag, above noticed, strikingly resemble the corre- 
sponding rocks in Caithness and Sutherland. Fossil 
fishes occur rather plentifully in Pomona, in the lower 
beds of a quarry of sandstone flag. The fishes from 
Caithness and Orkney approach one another very nearly, 
hut among the latter are several new species and even 
genera. Two of the most remarkable are named, 
by Agassiz, Cheiracanthus and Cheirolepis. (Traill 
and Agassiz, Reports of the British Association, for 

According to a rough estimate, the surface of the 
islands is 150,000 acres, of which less than one-third is 
cultivated and used as pasture ; the remainder is a waste 
or covered with water. The island of Sanda, which is 
fiat and low, is the most fertile, and accordingly is called 
the -granary of the Orkneys. Wart Hill, on the island of 

Hoy, has m deration gf 1556 feet, and is considered the 

highest land in the islands ; Wideford Hill on Pomona 
also rises to a considerable elevation. The coasts of 
Pomona and the South Isles are very irregular in their 
outline, and contain several secure and spacious har- 

As the Orkneys lie open to the wide expanse of the 
Atlantic, and are exposed to the western gales, which are 
the prevalent winds, the climate is rather wet than cold. 
Frost rarely continues for several days in succession, and 
the harbours are open all the year round. The winter is 
disagreeable on account of the frequent rains, sleet, and 
storms, and it is usually prolonged far into the spring, 
which season also is very damp. The summer is gene- 
rally fine and pleasant, the heat being very moderate and 
the weather steady. The early part of the autumn is 
likewise agreeable, but in November the bad weather 

The soil of some of the islands is of inferior quality, 
but that of others is excellent. Agriculture is limited to 
the raising of oats, and that kind of barley which in 
Scotland iB called bear, or big, and to the cultivation of 
potatoes, turnips, and a few other vegetables. Owing to 
the proprietors having turned their attention for many 
years exclusively to the kelp manufacture, agriculture has 
been greatly neglected ; but of late great improvements 
have taken place, and the opening of a regular steam 
communication with Aberdeen and Edinburgh has given a 
great stimulus to the raising of green crops and rearing 
of cattle, for which the islands are peculiarly adapted. 
Owing to the wetness of the climate and the lateness of 
the summer, wheat is not found to answer, but oats, 
barley, and big or bear, are exported in considerable 
quantities. Cattle are numerous, but small : on several 
of the larger farms the Angus and short-horned breeds 
have been introduced with success. Horses are abundant, 
but small. Sea-fowl abound on most of the smaller 
islands. Many families subsist entirely on the produce 
of their fishing ; cod, herrings, and lobsters abound along 
the coast, and seals are common. It has been conjectured 
that the islands derive their name from the seal, ore, in 
the language of the Northmen, signifying a seal. A few 
years ago the inhabitants derived a great profit from the 
preparation of kelp. But for the last five or six years 
the manufacture has been almost extinct, the article 
having been quite superseded in the soap and glass 
works by the carbonate of soda made from common salt. 
During the war the price of kelp has been so high as 20/. 
a ton, and for many years it was never below 12/. 
Latterly it has sold for about 3/. or 4/. a ton, which 
hardly pays the labour of making it and sending to 
market. The little kelp which is still made is used chiefly 
in the preparation of iodine. Owing to the extinction of 
the kelp manufacture, a complete change has taken place 
in these islands. Under the old system the mass of the 
population were, in all but name, serfs attached to the 
soil, being bound to labour at kelp-making for the land- 
lord in exchange for a miserable cottage and little patch 
of land, and living from year to year without hope or 
prospect of bettering their condition. The failure of the 
market for kelp in fact emancipated them, as their labour 
ceasing to be valuable to the landlord, they were left at 
liberty to employ it in any occupation which they found 
most advantageous. The consequence has been a great 
extension of agriculture, and the rise of the herring- fishery, 
which had been entirely neglected, into a branch of in- 
dustry of great importance. Upwards of 700 boats, with 
six men each, and of the average value, with their nets, 
of 130/. or 140/*, are now employed in this fishery, and 
the number is rapidly increasing. In favourable years 
from 30,000 to 50,000 barrels of herrings are exported, 
and from 20,000/. to 30,000/. are divided among the 
fishermen and their families. The cod-fishery also, 
which is prosecuted in the months of May and June, 
before the great ihoals of herrings appear on the coast, it 

Digitized by 




|April 4, 1840. 

fast rising into importance, and already brings from 
5000/. to 7000/. annually into the country. The lob- 
ster-fishery is also carried on, but is of minor import- 

The inhabitants are of Scotch and partly of Norwegian 
descent. While the islands belonged to Norway and 
Denmark, many Norwegians settled on them, and their 
language was exclusively in use. But since the islands 
have been annexed to Scotland, a great change has taken 
place, and the Norse language has been long extinct. A 
few relics of the Udal tenure, the universal tenure of 
land among the free nations of the north, may still be 
found ; and there are instances of families who occupy 
small patches of ground which have descended from 
father to son from time immemorial. In character, man- 
ners, and language, the inhabitants of those islands now 
differ little from the Scotch lowlanders. They are gene- 
rally intelligent, educated, and moral. The competition 
between the United Seceders, who constitute about a third 
part of the population, and the established church, haB 
done much of late years to extend the means of education 
and diffuse a spirit of religious zeal. There are few 
parishes which have not at least two schools. The 
women find some occupation in straw-platting. A num- 
ber of young men leave the country to enter the merchant 
navy, and often rise to be masters and mates of vessels, 
being in general sober, honest, and able to read and write. 
Formerly a considerable number went to America in the 
service of the Hudson's Bay Company, but since the 
junction of the Hudson's Bay Company with the North- 
West Company, Canadians have been exclusively em- 
ployed. A few men also go every year with the whale- 
ships to Davis's Straits, but, owing to the rapid increase 
of the herring and cod fisheries of late years, the number 
who leave the islands in search of employment is con- 
siderably diminished. 

It appears that the Orkneys were early taken posses- 
sion of by the Normans, and they remained subject to 
the kings of Norway and Denmark till the year 1468, 
but had their own kings or earls, who governed them as 
independent sovereigns. The Orkneys were the general 
rendezvous of the piratical fleets which so often devastated 
the coasts of England and France. Rollo, the conqueror 
of Normandy, and ancestor of William the Conqueror, 
was an earl of Orkney. In 1468 the islands were pawned 
to Scotland for 50,000 florins, and the pledge has never 
been redeemed. From the year 147 1 the earls of the 
island became dependent on Scotland, and from that 
time were considered like other chieftains of the Scottish 

Kirkwall, situated on a bay on the north coast of 
Pomona, is the capital of the islands. The cathedral of 
St. Magnus at Kirkwall is one of the most remarkable 
specimens of middle age architecture in Scotland ; it was 
built by Olave, king of Denmark. It is in good repair 
and still used as the parish church. Close to the cathe- 
dral are the ruins of the bishop's palace, and of the 
palace of Earl Patrick Stewart, the last feudal earl of 
Orkney, who was executed for high treason in the reign 
of James I. The town consists of one long narrow street, 
but contains several good houses and shops. It has been 
recently lighted with gas. The population in 1831 was 
3721. It has ten schools, and a considerable trade in 
the produce of the island. In 1835, 78 vessels, of 4238 
tons, navigated by 326 seamen, belonged to this port. 
In 1834 the shipping which left the port amounted to 
8248 tons, and 10,304 tons entered. The town has some 

Stromness, situated towards the south-western extre- 
mity of Pomona, has also a good harbour. It contained 
in 1831 a population of 2521, and it has considerable 
trade : about 300 vessels annually enter the harbour. 

Though there are several other good harbours, they 
are not used, except by fishing-boats j the best in 

Orkney is Inganes Bay for all classes of vessels. The 
principal stations for the herring-fishery are St. Mar- 
garet's Hope in South Ronaldsha and Strenzic in Strongs. 
On the island of Hoy there is an excellent and spacious 
harbour, called Long Hope. The stewartry of Orkney 
and Shetland, consisting of this group and the Shetland 
Isles, sends one member to parliament, and the town 
of Kirkwall, which is a royal borough, returns a member 
together with Wick, Dingwall, Tain, Cromarty, and 
Dornoch. ' 

Improvement of Corn and Grain.— Might not the culti- 
vation of the various kinds of grain purposely for seed be 
more generally practised, and form a distinct branch of 
agriculture ? And would not this be well adapted to small 
occupiers, and cottagers who may have had allotments of 
land given or let to them to enable them to live by their 
own labour and industry without parochial relief? Thus the 
good qualities of any grain (chevalier barley, &c. &c.) might 
be perpetuated, new varieties might be produced, and the 
defects corrected by cultivation, as is the case with horticul- 
tural plants.— Penny Cyclopaedia* 

Primitive Corn-Mill of Upper California, — These mills 
consist of an upright axle, to tne lower end of which is fixed 
a horizontal water-wheel placed under the building, and to 
the upper end the mill-stone ; and as there is no interme- 
diate machinery to increase the velocity, it is evident that 
the mill-stone can make only the same number of revolu- 
tions as the water-wheel. This makes it necessary that the 
wheel should be of very small diameter, otherwise no power 
of water thrown upon it could make it go at a rate sufficient 
to give the mill-stone the requisite velocity. A set of what 
is called cucharas (spoons) are stuck into the periphery of 
the wheel, which serve in place of float-boards. They are 
made of pieces of timber in something of the shape of 
sjyoons, the handles being inserted into mortices on the edge 
of the wheel, and the bowls of the spoons made* to receive 
the water, which spouts on them laterally, and forces round 
the small wheel with nearly the whole velocity of the water 
which impinges upon it This mill is erected at a very 
small expense.— Forbes y s California. 

The Past and the Future to the Freeman and the Slave. 
— Freemen have a love for the past and an anticipation of 
the future. Brought up by the tender care of their own 
parents, they are immediately connected with the genera- 
tion before them ; rearing up their own children with equal 
care, they are connected no less with the generation that 
is to follow them. And as every generation of freemen is 
so linked with the one before and after it ;— and as they have 
works of their hands and much more of their minds, which 
live through many generations, so freemen are, as becomes 
them, " Beings of large discourse, looking before and 
after." What is ancient is not so much distant from them 
as consecrated to their minds by having been known and 
loved by so many of their fathers in so many ages ; — what is. 
remote in futurity is that high blessing, to which, if they 
forfeit not a freeman's privileges, their children, helped by 
their care and institutions, may one day be enabled to at- 
tain. But how is it with the slave ? Alas ! in the stern 
but true language of law, he is " nullius filius," the son of 
nobody; he has no parent and can have no children* 
What is the past to him, or what the future, so far as earth, 
is concerned, more than to the beasts ? Ancient buildings*, 
ancient birth, ancient usages, ancient laws, are to him but 
words without a meaning. All behind him is a blank, and 
so is all before him. And thus when we hear men talk witb 
indifference or with hatred of all our best institutions,— when 
we find them perfectly ignorant and careless of history* — 
and as incapable of carrying forward their view beyond the 
immediate present, — we see the certain marks of slaves,— 
we hear a language which, in all but slaves, is insanity. 

• # * The Office of the Society for the Diffusion of UwfUl Knowledge fee* 
59, Lincoln'* Inn Fields. 

Piintedby WiluamCuowu *nd Sovi, SUmfcrd 8irett. 

Digitized by 




Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. 



[April 11, 1840. 


[Royal Arcade.] 

Richard Grainger was born in 1*798, in High Friar 
Chase, Newcastle-upon-Tyne. His father was a porter 
employed on the quay. His mother, a native of Gib- 
raltar, earned a subsistence for her children, after her 
husband's death, by stocking-grafting, glove-making, and 
clear-starching. At the time of the birth of Richard, 
the third son, the family lived in two small rooms : the 
only prospect of education for the children was from the 
charity-schools of the town. Richard had no other 
schooling than what he got at the parish charity-school 
of St. Andrews, whose course of study was comprised in 
the Bible, Tin well's * Arithmetic,' ' Tom Thumb,' and a 
spelling-book. Some of the inhabitants of Newcastle 
can recal the appearance of the boy in those days in his 
green badge-cout, with his round, ruddy, smiling face, 
and his quiet manner. He was then remarkable for 
nothing but his serenity, his characteristic through life. 
He now looks back with great affection to his school-days, 
and likes to speak of his humble home, and the com- 
panions with whom, from his easy temper, he was always 
on good terms. 

When he was twelve years old a change of import- 
ance took place in the town. The shambles had been 
till then in the open street. At that time a commodious 
covered market was erected in the Dean, in a low but 
central situation, at a cost to the corporation of 17,000/. 
This improvement seems to have struck his mind. 

He was also earlv impressed with the inconvenience 
occasioned to the inhabitants of the town by a great space 
in the centre being wholly useless for purposes of com- 
munication, and the principal streets being therefore 
Vol. IX. 

widely circuitous. North of the High Bridge, where the 
Dean widened, leaving a space of twelve acres, there had 
been a convent of Franciscan Friars, and the nunnery men- 
tioned before, with the holy well. This space was, in Grain- 
ger's youth, occupied by an old mansion (once the prison- 
house of Charles I.), surrounded by gardens and planta- 
tions, which were rendered unproductive by the smoke 
of the surrounding town. This extent of twelve acres, 
serving no purpose of either use or ornament, early in- 
terested Grainger's imagination as the scene of vast future 
improvements ; and he hoped the day might come when 
it would be in the hands of some one who would sell it. 
That time arrived, as we shall see, when he himself was 
able to be the purchaser. Meanwhile he saw in vision, 
as he now declares, the new town as it has arisen under 
his hands — terraces, squares, long ranges of streets, all 
fronted with polished stone, instead of the peculiarly ugly- 
brick of which the old town was built. He noted the 
extent of the Quarries in the neighbourhood, and the 
quality of the stone, and rightly concluded that the pre- 
judices which had hitherto interfered with the use of 
this abundant natural treasure were unfounded. 

All these thoughts occupied his mind during his ap- 
prenticeship. His master was a house-carpenter and 
builder, of the name of Brown, who has since been em- 
ployed as a journeyman on some of his pupil's erections. 
Grainger won some attention at this time by the remark- 
able steadiness and easy composure of his character, 
giving promise of respectability and indications of power 
of mind. He belonged to the Methodist body, and was 
pointed out to Mr. Fenwick, who was afterwards his 

Digitized by 




[Apeil I J, 

attorney, as a fit person to be employed in collecting the 
monies of the Tract Society. He brought in the sub- 
scriptions weekly with entire regularity ; and Mrs. Fen- 
wick, seeing him on one of these occasions, asked who he 
was, saying that she had " never seen such a bonny 

When he was out of his time, his elder brother, George, 
who was a bricklayer, engaged him to join in an enter- 
prise of his own, pulling down and rebuilding a small 
house next their mother's, in High Friar Chase. This 
humble abode is now an object of some curiosity as the 
fi^t work of Richard's hands after beginning business on 
his own account. This brother George fell ill, and be- 
came incapable of business many years ago, and then 
died, or, it is possible, his name might have risen with 
his brother's. 

Mr. Batson, an opulent member of the religious society 
to which Richard Grainger belonged, became early in- 
terested in him, and afforded him the first opportunity 
of distinguishing himself. Mr. Batson was employing 
some of his capital in the erection of Higham Place 
when Grainger set up for himself, and he employed the 
young man to build some of the houses. The older 
builders, who were engaged in other parts of the new 
erections, laughed to scorn the idea of the proprietor em- 
ploying " a raw lad like Grainger." Grainger, however, 
did his work thoroughly well. He gave his whole mind 
to it, rising at three or four in the morning, and working 
till nine at night. 

Soon after, Grainger married well. At class-meetings 
he had become acquainted with Rachel Arundale, and 
they became attached, and married. She has been an 
excellent wife, aiding him not only by providing him the 
asylum of a comfortable home, but by the goodness of 
her taste, and by her talents for business. She has as- 
sisted him throughout his years of enterprise by managing 
his accounts and conducting his correspondence. She 
had a fortune of 5000/. 

The first undertaking which Grainger entered into 
from his own resources was building two houses in Percy 
Street. Then he erected nearly the whole of the east side 
of Carliol Street, a part of New Bridge Street, and the 
whole of Blackett Street, except eight houses. This street, 
not planned by him, was considered a grand affair at the 
time of its erection, from its width and regularity, though 
the houses are of brick, and have no pretensions to ar- 
chitectural beauty. 

From these works, Grainger now proceeded to a more 
ambitious enterprise, — the erection of Eldon Square. 
Blackett Street runs along one side of this square. 
The other three sides are composed of handsome stone 
houses, of a solid, plain, uniform style of architecture, 
the corner houses next Blackett Street and the Club- 
house in the centre projecting, and showing somewhat 
more ornament than the rest. The whole was Grainger's 
work, with the exception of four houses. The specula- 
tion was so successful as to enable him to proceed to yet 
larger enterprises. Eldon Square was begun in 1826. 

Mr. Grainger next opened to Mr. Fenwick, his friend 
and attorney, a scheme for erecting the Leazes Terrace 
and Crescent, containing together seventy first-class and 
sixty second-class houses, with polished stone fronts, more 
highly ornamental than anything that had yet been seen 
in the town. His friend, alarmed by the extent of the 
speculation, advised him to retire upon the 20,000/. he 
had now realised, instead of risking all in so vast an en- 
terprise. Grainger received the remonstrance with his 
usual placidity, and proceeded to exhibit his calculations. 
Nothing could be more perfect. There was not a risk 
left unconsidered. He satisfied his friend of the pru- 
deuce of the undertaking, built the Terrace and the Cres- 
cent, and was enriched by them. 

The Leazes are a wide grazing-ground to the north of 
the town, adjoining the moor, The ground is high, and 

the situation of the terrace open and airy. It consists of 
a block of seventy lofty houses, in form an oblong square, 
and surrounded by a paved terrace walk on the outside 
of the small gardens in front of the houses. It is de- 
servedly the pride of the town, even now, since the crea- 
tion of what is commonly called " the new town." So 
much has to be said of these later improvements, that we 
abstain from entering into details of the architectural 
character of any of Grainger's erections prior to 1834. 
All that he did before that time may be considered as 
merely introductory to the great work of his life. 

One other enterprise only remains to be mentioned as 
belonging to this early stage of his career, — the Arcade, — 
perhaps the least successful of his works, though he has 
lost neither credit nor money* by it. The corn -merchants 
of Newcastle were greatly in want of a Corn-exchange, 
and there had been much planning and some action about 
erecting one in front of St. Nicholas church. After 
dragging on for a long time, the affair came to a stand, 
and the corn-merchants requested Grainger to provide 
them a place to meet in. He began to build for the pur- 
pose in Pilgrim Street. As soon as this was known, the 
projectors of the other Corn-exchange bestirred themselves 
again, and Grainger -was obliged to alter the destination 
of his building. He desired to concentrate as many 
public offices as possible on this spot, and to make of the 
remaining part a sort of inn of court, a collection of all 
the lawyers' offices in the town. In this he has partly 
succeeded, but only partially, from the Arcade not being 
a necessary thoroughfare, one end only opening into a 
busy part of the town. In the Arcade, howe? er, are the 
Post-Onlce, the Stamp, Excise, and Permit Offices, the 
Savings' Bank, the North of England Joint-Stock Bank, 
and many lawyers, engineers, and architects' offices, 
some auction-rooms, and shops. 

The handsome stone front, occupied by the two banks, 
is 94 feet long and 75 feet in height. The interior, 
lighted by eight conical glass domes, is 250 feet long, 20 
feet wide, and 35 feet high. This pile of building was 
begun in June, 1831, and opened in May, 1832. The 
entire cost is stated by Mr. Grainger to be 40,000/. 

Already, before beginning his " new town," Mr. 
Grainger had enriched his native place with property of 
the value of nearly 200,000/., viz. :— 

Early erections, worth . . . £45,000 

Eldon Square 30,000 

Leazes Terrace and neighbourhood . 80,000 

Royal Arcade 40,000 


The town now began sensibly to feel the effects of 
Grainger's activity in the rise of a large body of prosper- 
ous artisans, in the importation of Baltic timber, and 
the increased demand for dwelling-houses, shops, and 
warehouses, which kept the other builders of the place 
busier than they were before their great townsman arose. 
All that we have related, however, was but the beginning 
of Grainger's achievements. 

(To be continued.] 


The Khanate of Chiva, in its original dimensions, 
scarcely exceeds seventy miles from east to west, and 
one hundred and twenty from north to south : it is 
situated south of Lake Aral, and encompassed by de- 
serts or steppes, one of which, that of Gasnak, sepa- 
rates it from Bokhara on the east and south-east ; while 
on the south-west and west it has Turcomania, or the 
wild regions inhabited by the Turcomans, for its neigh- 
bour. The banks of the Amu-Derja, or Oxus, form the 
greater part of its north-eastern frontier. But the Khan^ 

Digitized by 





ate in its present extent embraces many surrounding 
districts, such as portions of Persia, Bokhara, and Turko- 
mania, which fear or conquest have rendered partly sub- 
ject and partly tributary to it. The Amu-Derja is its 
only river ; it comes down from the mountains north of 
India, traverses Bokhara, and skirting Chiva, flows into 
Lake Aral, where it closes a course of twelve hundred 
miles, after fertilising the several countries which lie 
upon its banks. It is the great aliment of the agricul- 
tural prosperity of Chiva, the surface of which, like that 
of its Bokharian neighbour, is intersected by natural or 
artificial canals, many of which are of considerable 
breadth (above thirty feet), and constructed with much 
skill upon solid embankments, with here and there an 
aqueduct to lead the waters across lower lines of canals 
which run in contrary directions. The soil produces 
gTain, fruit, and other vegetable crops in superabundance, 
besides two plants, the Kundjut, whence oil is extracted, 
and the Djogan, on which the horses are fed. The people 
graze large herds and flocks of camels, oxen, and sheep, 
the latter of which attain a great size. Their horses are 
remarkably strong, performing a distance of eight days' 
journey at the rate of eighty miles a day, and frequently 
pass whole days without drinking, and with no food 
but five or six handfuls of djogan during the four and 
twenty hours. The principal wild animals are the jackal, 
wolf, and fox, the eagle, stag, and djeran, which is a 
species of antelope. There is a chain of mountains in 
the eastern districts called the " Cheki-Djeri," which ex- 
teud to the shore of Lake Aral northwards, and is said to 
contain rich mines of silver, copper, lead, and sulphur ; 
the copper and lead are however the only metals which 
(he Chi vans raise. The climate is represented as being 
temperate and healthy, with little rain or snow, and a 
short winter. 

The number of inhabitants is variously estimated ; by 
some travellers at 350,000, and by others at 500,000 ; 
they are of various races, at the head of which stand 
the " Uzbegs " (or independents), the conquerors of the 
country, and its despotic rulers, as the Mandshoos are in 
China. The one, like the other, hold the natives in utter 
contempt and servitude; indolent and intractable at 
home, but active and indefatigable where an opportunity 
is afforded them of indulging their predatory predilec- 
tions ; and proud of their warlike ancestry, from whom 
they have pTobably inherited their constant boast — " We 
live by our arms and our bravery." Their leading 
characteristic is frankness, and scorn of deceit and lying. 
The ** Sarty," or " Padshiks," who are the aboriginal 
people of Chiva, chiefly dwell in the towns, and devote them- 
selves especially to the pursuits of trade ; they are a cun- 
ning, treacherous, and cowardly race of men, and addicted 
to gambling and drinking, in which their general affluence 
enables them freely to indulge. The " Kara-Kalpaks," 
in number about 100,000, form the agricultural portion 
of the community, and are in great indigence, as well as 
cruelly oppressed by both Uzbeg and Padshik; they 
travel about the country in quest of a livelihood, and 
would prove formidable allies to an invader who would 
deliver them from their masters' yoke. In addition to 
the three preceding classes, there are about 30,000 Persian 
and from 2000 to 3000 Russian captives (6000, accord- 
ing to the Russian accounts), who drag out a miserable 
existence among the Chivians. The Turkoman tributa- 
ries, a roving race, must also be numbered among the 
Khan's subjects. 

There are 15 towns and villages in the country ; the 
former, five in number, consist of Chiva, surrounded by 
a wall of earth, and defended by a massive round-shaped 
citadel, but of slate-clay, on the Amu-Derja, with 5000 
inhabitants, where the Khan resides ; tf ew-Urgendshe, or 
Orgundsh, to the north of Chiva, with 10,000 ; both are 
places of considerable trade. In the south are Chezarist ; 
in the north, near the westernmost mouth of the Amu- 

Derja, Churat ; and on the Caspian Sea, Mangishlank, 
situated on the peninsula of that name, which is fre- 
quented by the Russian merchantmen. 

Its last sovereign, Mohammed Rahim Khan, who 
figures in Russian despatches under the designation of 
" sovereign highness," and " Mighty Lord of the regions 
of the East," inherited the sovereignty in 1802; he was 
a prince of distinguished talent and gigantic stature— 
another Barbarossa ; for his red beard, according to 
Eastern convictions, not merely entitled him to the name, 
but was an appendage symbolical among them for prowess 
and capacity. Chiva was an insignificant state when 
this man came to rule over it; but wading through all 
kinds of cruelties, of which the extinction of every rela- 
tive and rival was not the least, putting an end to the 
power of the leading Uzbeg families, who had reduced 
the authority of his predecessors to a mere shadow, and 
waging successful war, with the aid of his Turkman and 
Kirgisian allies, against Persia and Bokhara, he raised 
his dominions to a pitch of ascendancy which they had 
not enjoyed for centuries before. A vigorous and discreet 
organization of his internal resources powerfully seconded 
his ambitious views, which were, however, arrested by 
the hand of death in the year 1826. Of his successor, 
Alia Khul Khan, it is enough to say that he inhe- 
rited his territory with little of the ability by which 
it had been rendered extensive and formidable. 

Alia Khul, the reigning khan, now in his 45th year, 
is a peaceably disposed and gentle -hearted character, 
for whom neither hunting, foraging, nor cruelties have any 
charm ; in fact he is very severe towards all plunderers 
and thieves, and for this reason not only is he unpopular 
among his Uzbeg and Turkoman liege?, but was disin- 
herited by his father, who endeavoured, but without effect, 
to secure the succession to his second sou, Rahman Khul. 
The latter, to whom the oligarchs of the country are much 
attached on account of his warlike and freehootiug pro- 
pensities, retired to Chezarist upon Alia Khul's accession, 
threw off all subjection to him, collected tribute from the 
surrounding districts, and is said to have joined the Rus- 
sian expedition against his brother. 

Alia Khul resides in the citadel of Chiva, is attended 
by a troup of fifteen guards, and wears a bent sabre at 
his side as his constant companion. His troops are said 
to amount to 20,000 men, all mounted ; the private, on 
his departure for a campaign, receives 25 ducats (ahout 
nine pounds sterling), one-half in bread, and the re- 
mainder in money ; besides forage and meal while in the 
field. Their baggage, ammunition, Ac. are borne on 
camels* backs. The officers, or Jusboshi, receive from 
40 to 70 ducats each, according to their rank, independ- 
ently of provisions : and it is his special duty to see the 
horses kept in good condition. One- half of the spoils of 
war belong to the khan ; and the prospect of enjoying 
the other half induces numbers of volunteers to join every 
marauding expedition : a part of them cousists in the 
heads and ears of their enemies, the khan paying them 
ten ducats for the former and five for the latter. Their 
arms are swords and lances, and here and there a firelock, 
to which the Turkomans add a long knife ; the leaders wear 
coats of mail, and the few firelocks seen among them are 
a distinction peculiar to the Uzbeg nobles, who have them 
made in the country, and receive their ball and powder 
from Chiva, where it is manufactured and preserved in 
chambers of brick. The ordnance of the whole khannate 
does not exceed fifteen pieces, cast by Russian prisoners, 
and mounted on carriages also constructed by them, but 
unfit for almost any service. Cannon balls are also cast 
in Chiva, but the use of cartridges seems to be unknown. 
Although the khan possesses a revenue of more than one 
hundred thousand pounds, which would enable him to 
increase his forces considerably, his soldiery are totally 
unfit to contend against the most insignificant regular 
troops accustomed to European discipline and warfare. 

Digitized by 




[April 11, 

The principal object which the khan has in view in his 
foreign inroads is the capture of slaves; these hapless 
beings are condemned tb the hardest labours, with the 
exception of those who are Sunnites, that is, of the same 
sect of the Mohammedan religion as the Chivans ; these 
more fortunate captives are placed in their ranks. As the 
natives never submit to any heavy work, whether in their 
fields or gardens, they force their prisoners to do it ; in- 
deed the Chi van is not only indisposed to, but so 
ignorant of, agnculture or horticulture, that if they had 
no Kara-Kalpaks, Russians, Persians, or Calmucks 
amongst them, it seems probable that they would die of 
sheer starvation. In aggravation of the severity of their 
toil, the captives are doomed to scanty nourishment ; even 
the khau himself allows his own slaves no more than at 
the rate of 120 pounds of meal per month, out of which 
they must wholly feed and clothe themselves. The prisoners 
on their arrival are conducted to Chiva, where they are 
sold like beasts in the open bazaar, at the rate of 60 to 
70 ducats per head (about twenty-four to twenty-seven 
pounds sterling) if in the prime of life and health. These 
slaves manufacture all the articles of clothing, &c. which 
the natives require ; among others, cottons and silks, 
camlets, felt, and carpets, copper ware, &c. The trade 
with Russia is considerable, and carried on by caravans, 
which, even in time of war, are allowed to travel unmo- 
lested ; and next in value is the trade with Bokhara. 

The form of government is despotic in its worst sense ; 
for the council, who assist the khan in judicial and some 
few other matters, are relentless oligarchs, infinitely 
more tyrannical than the tyrant whose will is here the 
only law. The punishments inflicted for offences are ex- 
ceedingly severe; empaling, which the offender often 
survives for two whole days, is an ordinary penalty, and 
burying alive, the offender being compelled to dig his 
own grave, is not of uncommon occurrence. 

The female sex in Chiva lead a wretched life; their 
husbands exercise the mo-st rigid mastery over them, and 
they have no mercy to expect at their hands if even a 
semblance of infidelity can be brought home to them. 
Their fare is of the scantiest, and the daily allow- 
ance even to the khan's wives is weighed out to them. 
His household has each day for its subsistence 120 
pounds of wheat meal, eighty of rice, forty of flesh, and 
twenty of hard butter. So rigid indeed is the system 
pursued, that the very ladies of the prince are frequently 
obliged to sell the remains of their meals in the bazaar 
in order to obtain wherewith to buy silk or other neces- 
saries. The khan's kitchen is besieged twice a day by 
the people of the household, who bear away the prescribed 
rations for officers, females, and servants, in earthen 
vessels. The largest of these rations is laid before the 
khan himself, and much of it remains unconsumed ; but 
what is left makes a subsequent meal for his ministers 
and household officers, who may be seen dancing eager 
attendance for it in the antechamber, where the scram- 
ble for their prince's " leavings " occasions scenes savour- 
ing little of courtly refinement. 

The khaness, Alia Khul's eldest wile, is a Kirghisian 
princess, and from her consort's quiet pliable character, 
no less than her own violent temper, exercises uncon- 
trolled sway over him. All her domestics are captives, 
and kept in good order by a thong, in the use of which 
she is no mean adept. — Helmersen's Report ; Letters of 
an Officer on the Expedition, 1839 ; Muravief's Jour- 
nal, #c. 

Ploughing in Upper California.— From the construction 
of the plough, there being no mould- board or feathered 
shear, the furrow cannot be cut up and turned over as with 
an English plough, a rut only being made ; consequently 
the soil can only be broken by successively crossing and re- 
crossing the field many times ; and it is evident that how- 
*"pr often crossed by a machine of this kind, the root weeds 

of any tenacity can never be cut, so that this mode of 
ploughing must always be very imperfect The necessity 
of giving so many crossings is a great waste of labour. It 
is no uncommon thing to see on the large maize estates in 
some parts of Mexico upwards of one hundred ploughs at 
work together. With these ploughs it is not necessary to 
divide the field into ridges, and they have only to begin at 
one side of the field and follow one another up and down, as 
many as can be employed together without interfering ia 
turning round at the end, which they do in succession, like 
ships tacking in a line of battle, and so proceed down the 
same side as thev came up. — Forbes's California. 

Steams— If the wild tribes of Lake Huron were even at 
this moment to be told that the white man's recipe for con- 
quering the waves of the great lake before them was to 
take up a very small portion of it and boil it — if, sixty years 
ago, Dr. Johnson had been (as, exhausted by a hard day's 
literary labour, he sat ruminating at his fire-side, waiting 
for his favourite beverage) told that the tiny volume of 
white smoke he was listlessly gazing at, as it issued from 
the spout of his block-iron tea-kettle, was a power compe- 
tent to rebuke the waves and set even the hurricane at de- 
fiance — the red children of nature would listen to the 
intelligence with no greater astonishment than our venera- 
ble lexicographer would have received it On 

salt water as well as on fresh — reeking and fuming under 
the line, as well as freezing in Canada — on crowded rivers, 
as well as on those whose shores are desolate — on large 
streams as well as on small ones— in bays, harbours, friths, 
actuaries, and channels — on the small lakes of Ireland, 
Scotland, and Switzerland — on the large ones in Ame- 
rica — on the Red Sea — on the Black Sea— on the Mediter- 
ranean — on the Baltic — in fair weather, in foul weather—in 
a calm as well as in a hurricane — with the current, or against 
it — this power, when tested, has most successfully answered 
the great purpose for which it was beneficenlly created; 
and it is impossible to reflect on the thousands of human 
beings who at this moment are being transported by it— it 
is impossible to summon before the imagination the various 
steamers, large and small, which, in all directions, in spite 
of wind and weather, are going straight as arrows to their 
targets, without feeling most deeply that after all there ii 
nothing new in the discovery that" the spirit of God moves 
upon the face of the waters." — Quarterly Review. 

Clearing Land in Canada. — The process is be*un by 
cutting with a heavy bush-hook the shrubs and slender sap- 
lings, which are then piled in large heaps; the axe follows 
and cuts down the young trees, the larger ones being left 
for the present: the felled ones are cut in lengths and 
piled with the limbs on the brush-heaps. All these have 
been cut quite close to the ground, so that the stumps may 
offer no obstruction to the harrow : all being piled, nothing 
remains but to fell the large trees, which is done at about 
two feet from the ground, the stumps being permitted to 
remain till the gradual decomposition of the roots allows of 
their extraction— a work of years. The trunks of the trees 
are now chopped into lengths ; those which are useful for 
fencing placed by themselves, to be removed; and the re- 
mainder, by the efforts of oxen with chains and men with 
levers, are piled one upon another, and the tops thrown into 
heaps as before. In this state everything remains during 
the summer exposed to the burning sun of July, August, 
and September, which dries up a good deal of the moisture, 
and makes the heaps fit to burn. In the fall (autumn), advan- 
tage is taken of a dry time to put fire to the logs and brush, 
which burn rapidly, and are usually consumed, with the ex- 
ception of some remnants of the log- heaps, which are piled to- 
gether for a final burning. The run ning of the fires over the 
ground kills every vegetable, and the fertilising ashes make 
the whole in good order for culture. The plough is not put 
into the ground for some years, until the small stumps and 
roots have decayed ; it is merely harrowed over, the virgin 
earth being soft and mellow ; and grain is sowed with grass- 
seed. After the first crop, it remains in grass for several 
years. Such is the ordinary practice, slightly varying ac- 
cording to circumstances.— Gosse's Canadian Naturalist. 

Digitized by 






[Henry VII.J 

Passing over the short nominal reign of Edward V., 
we must pause to describe some remarkable additions 
made in the succeeding reign, that of Richard III., which, 
although not of long duration, was remarkable for 
the great change made in the fashion of the armour. 
This change consisted not only in the greater richness of 
the suits, but in the shape of the different portions, which 
were greatly altered, and in the addition of various pieces 
hitherto unknown. 

The most striking peculiarities consist of the enlarged 
dimensions of the knee and elbow pieces, which, being 
generally of a fan-like shape, project from the body with 
a very grotesque effect ; and the pauldrons rise on the 
shoulders so as almost to present the appearance of the 
later pass-guards. These characteristics are not, however, 
exhibited in the Tower armoury, as that collection does 
not possess a suit of the period we are now speaking of ; 
but they may be seen in the effigy of Sir Thomas Peyton 
in Isleham Church, Cambridgeshire, which affords one 
of the best authorities for armour of the reign of Richard 
III. The salade, and the hausse-col, or gorget of steel, 
were still worn, the former being surmounted by the 
knight's cap and crest, or, as in the preceding reigns, sur- 
rounded by a roll of silk or linen of the wearer's colours, 
with a feather at the side. 

The sword is belted so as to hang almost in front of 
the wearer, while the dagger is attached to the right hip. 
Every variety of fantastic shape was adopted for the 
shields in tournaments, but in battle they were almost 
constantly of a pentangular form. 
The portions of iron covering which the archers and 

military men of inferior rank had been accustomed to 
wear, but which had been gradually becoming less com- 
mon, were at this period almost entirely laid aside; 
leather jacks, jazerine jackets, and short linen or cloth 
doublets, the latter most frequently white with St. George's 
cross upon them, being generally worn by archers, bill- 
men, and guisarmiers. They however retained the salade, 
or wore in its stead a round iron pot- helmet, or skull-cap. 

The outre* and somewhat ludicrous appearance pre- 
sented by the richer suits of armour of this reign was 
greatly modified in the reign of Henry VII., when it 
assumed a more simple and more elegant form, retaining 
however the richness imparted to it by engraving and 
other ornamental effects, which indeed were even carried 
to a greater length. Armour ribbed and fluted in many 
places was very commonly worn, being besides orna- 
mented by the engravers, the most eminent and skilful 
of whom were sought for by the princes and noblemen of 
the age. The armour was principally imported at this 
time from Germany, and many specimens of the work of 
the best German artists yet remain to attest the care taken 
by the wearers to ensure the utmost perfection in the 
decoration of their iron panoply. Gold and silver were 
also profusely employed, being inlaid in the steel in pic- 
torial or arabesque designs ; and in some cases, where 
engraving was employed, the interstices, or marks of the 
graver, were filled up with a black composition called 
niello by the Italians, and much used by the goldsmiths 
of those times to give effect to such of their productions 
as had been ornamented by the chaser. 

The breastplate in the time of Henry VII. had acquired 

Digitized by 




[April II, 

a'globular form, bulging out from the breast with no very 
beautiful effect, and was composed of but one piece, as in 
the time of Edward IV. The helmet fitted close to the 
head, and was provided with moveable lames or plates 
at the back, to guard the neck and yet to allow the head 
to be thrown back with ease, in a manner similar to the 
casquetels of the reigns of Henry VI. and Edward IV. 
It opened to receive the head by throwing up the raen- 
tonntere, or lower part that guarded the chin and 
throat, as well as the visor, which turned upon the same 
screw. Towards the latter end of this reign the panache, 
which had first appeared ou the apex of the bascinets of 
Henry V.'s time, was changed for the plume, inserted 
in a pipe affixed for the purpose to the back of the 
helmet, just above the neck-plates, and instead of con- 
sisting of, at the most, but three, was now composed of 
a profusion of magnificent feathers that streamed down 
the shoulders almost to the crupper of the horse. The 
helmet used at tournaments was generally oval-shaped 
with a salient angle in front, and was surmounted with 
the orle, or chaplet and crest. An additional protection 
for the neck was introduced about this time called pass- 
guards, being plates rising perpendicularly from the 
shoulders so as to ward off the thrust or blow of a weapon 
directed to the side of the neck. These are very con- 
spicuous in the armour in the Tower placed on the figure 
intended to represent Henry VII., and may be seen in 
the engraving from that figure at the head of the present 

But the new feature in the armour of this period is 
the lamboys (from the French lambeaux), a sort of pet- 
ticoat of steel, intended to supersede the use of the tassets 
and tuiles hitherto worn, and made in imitation of the 
cloth or velvet petticoats much worn by civilians of the 
time. These at first were but of small dimensions, but 
as they became popular, they increased in length and 
width until (as we shall see when we come to the reign 
of Henry VIII.) they descended to the knees, and were 
formed into folds similarly to a very wide piece of drapery 
tied round the waist. The sollerets were formed in imi- 
tation of the shoes of the period, which, with the proverbial 
fickleness of fashion, had become so extremely wide at 
the toes, that it was considered proper tq restrict their 
dimensions by an act of parliament. 

The tabard, or coat of arms, which had once been so 
important an article in military costume, was now but 
seldom worn, or only on state occasions ; indeed the por- 
tions of armour which it would have covered were just 
those parts which were the most highly ornamented, and 
consequently the parts which the warriors were the most 
desirous to present to the public view ; and even if the 
armour was not fluted or engraved or otherwise orna- 
mented, it was considered more noble and warlike to 
expose the highly polished steel than to hide it by a gar- 
ment having so little the appearance of anything con- 
nected with " high deeds of arms and well -contested 
fields." Henry VII. is, however, represented on his 
great seal as habited in it. 

The shields were so various in shape and dimensions, 
that it would be perfectly useless to attempt to designate 
any particular form as the prevailing character of this 
article of defence at the time of which we are now speak- 
ing. The swords, which were made very long, taper to 
a point, and have a ridge down the centre on both 
sides the blade. Of the inferior weapons, the halberd, 
introduced in the reign of Edward IV., was becoming 
very popular in the English army, in which companies of 
halberdiers were formed, and held a distinguished rank 
Among the infantry. But the hand-gun was quickly 
superseding all other weapons in the hands of the com- 
mon soldiery, and in this reign it received an impetus 
from the introduction of the arquebus (corrupted from 
arc-a-bouche or arc-a-bousa), which differed from the 
original hand-gun in having a sort of lock attached to 

the iron tube, with a cock to hold the match; this 
being in the form of the letter S reversed, was called the 
serpentine ; it turned on a pivot in the centre, and the 
upper end, which held the match, was brought down to 
the pan by pulling back the lower end. When Henry 
VII. established the body of yeomen of the guard in 
1485, he armed half of them with bows and arrows, and 
the other half with arquebusses. 


Ik our last paper on this subject we collected the most 
important facts concerning the origin and use of the 
Drummond light. The experiments there detailed were 
made nearly ten years ago. The intensity of the light is 
beyond dispute ; but we are not aware what other diffi- 
culties may have prevented its adoption in our light- 
houses. On this subject Lieut. Drummond, in his com- 
munication to the Royal Society in 1830, says: — "It 
now only remains for me to perform the agreeable task 
of bearing testimony to the liberal spirit evinced by the 
Trinity Corporation on this occasion, and to the desire 
which they have manifested of facilitating, by every 
means in their power, the introduction of this method of 
illumination into lighthouses. Indeed I hesitate not to 
express my belief that, if this do not take place, it will 
arise from some insurmountable difficulties in the way of 
its practical application, and not from the want of a full 
and impartial trial on the part of that body, to whom 
these establishments are entrusted." As the subject of 
this paper merely relates to the production of the light 
itself, we shall not offer any remarks on lighthouse ar- 
rangements in other respects ; but we shall merely observe 
that the non-employment of the lime light is probably 
due to the dangerous nature of the mixed gases employed. 
When mixed, there is da'nger of an explosion of a very 
awful kind, which nothing but the most perfect apparatus, 
and the most careful attention from the persons employed, 
can avert. Lieut. Drummond devised a very ingenious 
mode of supplying the lime balls as fast as they were 
needed; but the supply of the gases is a source of some 

It may be proper here to describe the nature of a power- 
ful light which has been employed in most of the French 
lighthouses for some years past, and which differs totally 
from our English arrangements. A very powerful lamp 
on the Argand principle is placed in the centre of the 
upper part of the lighthouse : this lamp was, we believe, 
suggested by M. Fresnel, and has four concentric wicks, 
the outer one more than three inches in diameter, with 
air passing up between the wicks to feed the flame. 
Around this strong light eight lenses, thirty inches in dia- 
meter, are arranged, touching each other at the edges (being 
square), and forming a hollow octagonal space about 
the lamp. Above these, smaller lenses of a similar 
construction are arranged ; but so shaped, that bv in- 
clining inwards, they all meet towards the centre of the 
building, leaving only an opening for smoke, &c. to 
escape. The light yielded by the lamp, therefore, strikes 
upon glass lenses in sixteen different directions : through 
eight of these lenses the light is refracted and focalised 
at a long distance off; while that portion of the light 
which falls on the oblique over-hanging lenses is after- 
wards reflected downwards so as to become nearly pa- 
rallel with the other rays. By the revolving of this ap- 
paratus, every lens in turn throws the rays out to sea, 
while only one single lamp is employed for the whole. 
Each lens is too large to be made from one piece of glass ; 
it is therefore built up of several concentric zones or rings, 
and called a polyzonal lens, a form suggested by Sir D. 
Brewster thirty years ago. 

About two years ago, the French journals spoke with 
great commendation of an intense light which had been 
recently proposed by M. Gaudin. This light was capable 

Digitized by 





of being produced with any desired degree of intensity ; 
and its employment was suggested in lighthouses as well 
as other public places. We are not aware whether any 
useful application of this light has yet been made ; but 
it appears to have been in its nature a modification more 
or less remote of the lime light employed in Ireland. 

We have now to speak of another mode of illumina- 
tion, which, from circumstances that have recently oc- 
curred, seems as if it would be brought into profitable 
employment; we mean that light which is called the 
" Bude," the " Oxy-oil," and the " Gurney Light ;" the 
first name derived, we believe, from the residence of the 
inventor in Cornwall, the second from the mode of action, 
and the third from the name of another inventor. The nature 
of ibis light is as follows : — In an Argand lamp, as we 
have before stated, the wick is cylindrical, in order that a 
current of air should pass up through the centre, and 
feed the inflammable vapour and volatilised carbon which 
exists in the middle of the flame; and it is this part of 
the arrangement that constitutes the peculiar merit of 
the Argand lamp over the other forms which preceded 
it. Now the principle of the Bude light consists mainly 
in passing up a current of oxygen gas, instead of one of 
common air, through the wick of an Argand lamp. The 
lamp employed is an Argand, with a wick of any required 
diameter, say one inch. Inside this is carried up a tube, 
nearly to the top of the wick. This tube is in connexion 
at the lower end with a gasometer containing oxygen gas, 
which is easily obtained from an oxide of manganese, 
plentifully found in many parts of England. When the 
lamp is trimmed with its wick and a sufficient supply 
of oil, it is kindled, and the oxygen gas made to pass up 
through the middle of the flame. In so doing it pro- 
motes the rapidity of the combustion, and the result is a 
large increase in the intensity of the flame. We have wit- 
nessed the brilliancy of the flame thus produced at the 
Polytechnic Institution a few months ago. 

Such then is the nature of the Bude or Oxy-oil light, 
and two circumstances contributed to bring it into notice, 
viz. 1st, an inquiry into the lighthouse system ; and 2nd, 
the erection of the temporary House of Commons. We 
have said that the Drummond light produced very fa- 
vourable results when used at the temporary lighthouse 
at Purfleet ; but as the choice of lights for those buildings 
rests rather with the Trinity House than with the go- 
vernment, no steps seem to have been taken by the latter, 
while there were probably some other circumstances 
which prevented the adoption of the plan by the Trinity 
House. In 1834, however, a committee of the House of 
Commons was appointed to inquire into the whole subject 
of lighthouses, both with respect to the light employed, 
and to the whole system of management. A great deal 
of valuable evideuce was received on various parts of the 
subject ; and the Committee recommended to the Trinity 
House that another series of experiments should be made 
on the ** lime " light. These experiments were placed 
under the guidance of Mr. Gurney, who had, eleven years 
before, suggested the possibility of applying the lime 
light to lighthouse purposes. In the course of the ex- 
periments thus prosecuted, it was found that there were 
certain serious obstacles to the use of the lime light ; and 
these obstacles led to the suggestion of sending up a 
stream of oxygen gas through the wick of an Argand 
lamp. A series of experiments were afterwards made, by 
scientific men engaged for that purpose, on the compa- 
rative merits of the Argand lamp, the French or Concen- 
tric-wick lamp, and the Bude lamp, without reference to 
the Drummond light. The results were given in a Report 
sent to the Trinity House ; and the most prominent points 
in those results were the following : — that a French lamp, 
by consuming eighteen times as much oil, produced 
about ten times as much light as a common Argand 
lamp; and that a Bude lamp will yield nearly twice as 
much light as a French lamp. 

This Report on the availability of the Bude lamp for 
lighthouses was made in 1838 ; but there has not yet, as 
far as we are aware, been any actual application either 
of the Drummond or Bude lights to lighthouses now in 

We proceed to the other circumstances connected with the 
public use of the Bude light. After the burning of the 
Houses of Parliament a few years ago, there was a tempo- 
rary building erected for the sittings of the House of Com- 
mons, until the permanent building, from the plan of Mr. 
Barry, is completed. In this temporary building there 
have been some new methods adopted for warming and 
ventilating the house, for admitting pure warm air, and 
expelling impure air. The nature and the success of 
these contrivances it does not form part of our present 
subject to consider. It was, however, found that the 
unconsumed carbon, the carbonic acid, &c, arising from 
the wax candles burnt during the evening and midnight 
sittings of the House, greatly interfered with the plan of 
ventilation adopted by Dr. Reid ; and it was determined 
that an attempt should be made to employ gas instead of 
wax candles, and that a screen of some Kind should en- 
tirely separate the flames of gas from the body of the 

Accordingly towards the conclusion of 1837, the ne- 
cessary arrangements were made for bringing the gas to 
the house and arranging the jets in proper order ; and on 
a certain evening in the early part of the following year, 
after a preliminary trial bad been made, the gas-lights 
were ignited during the evening sitting of the House. 
The arrangements were as follows: — There were two 
ceilings to the house, namely, the flat lath and plaster 
ceiling connected with the roof, and a second ceiling 
placed a few feet below it. This lower ceiling had been 
introduced to facilitate the arrangements for hearing and 
ventilating, and it was now made available for lighting. 
It was not flat, but was divided into three portions run- 
ning lengthwise, the central portion being highest and 
quite horizontal, and the side portions inclining down- 
wards, till they met the walls. The sloping portions were 
glazed with ground-glass throughout their length, and 
above the glass were placed three rows of gas-pipes, each 
pipe perforated with holes about two or three inches apart 
for the purpose of throwing out several hundred jets of 
gas. These jets were then lighted, by means of tapers, 
from end to end of the pipes, and a brilliant illumination 
spread through the whole house; the light, although 
intensely strong in itself, being subdued by descending 
through the ground glass. 

This was the nature of the experiment made, and the 
light produced appeared to be satisfactory ; but the ex- 
pense was very great, it being estimated that the gas 
would cost 30/. per night; whereas the wax candles 
(about 240 in number) cost 5/. per night. From this 
circumstance chiefly the plan of lighting the house by gas 
was abandoned. 

Nothing farther was decided on until last year, when, 
in consequence of the experiments which had been made 
at t