Full text of "The every-day book and Table book : or, Everlasting calendar of popular amusements, sports, pastimes, ceremonies, manners, customs, and events, incident to each of the three hundred and sixty-five days, in past and present times; forming a complete history of the year, months, and seasons, and a perpetual key to the almanac ... for daily use and diversion. With four hundred and thirty-six engravings"

f>e Clog 3 perpetual aimanacfe.

jrplamrtr in tTje preface.

THE

EYERY-DAY BOOK

TABLE BOOK;

OR,

EVERLASTING CALENDAR OF POPULAR AMUSEMENTS,

SPORTS, PASTIMES, CEREMONIES, MANNERS,
CUSTOMS, AND EVENTS,

INCIDENT TO

of tf>e

^unfcretf an* btxty-ffbe

IN PAST AND PRESENT TIMES ;

FORMING A

COMPLETE HISTORY OF THE YEAR, MONTHS, AND SEASONS,

AND A

PERPETUAL KEY TO THE ALMANAC;

/NCt/tlDINU

ACCOUNTS OP THK WEATHER, RULES FOR HEALTH AND CONDUCT, REMARKABLE AND
IMPORTANT ANECDOTES, FACTS, AND NOTICES, IN CHRONOLOGY, ANTIQUITIES, TOPO-
GRAPHY, BIOGRAPHY, NATURAL HISTORY, ART, SCIENCE, AND GENERAL LITERATURE ;
DERIVED FROM THE MOST AUTHENTIC SOURCES, AND VALUABLE ORIGINAL COMMU-
NICATIONS, WITH POETICAL ELUCIDATIONS, FOR DAILY USE AND DIVERSION.

BY WILLIAM HONE

I tell of festivals, and fairs, and plays,

Of merriment, and mirth, and bonfire blaze ;

I tell of Christmas-mummings, new year's day,

Of twelfth-night king and queen, and children's play ;

I tell of valentines, and true-love's-knots,

Of omens, cunning men, and drawing lots :

I tell of brooks, of blossoms, birds and bowers,

Of April, May, of June, and July-flowers ;

I tell of May-poles, hock-carts, wassails, wakes,

Of bridegrooms, brides, and of their bridal cakes ;

I tell of groves, of twilights, and I sing

The court of Mab, and of the fairy king.

HERRTCK.

WITH FOUR HUNDRED AND THIRTY-SIX ENGRAVINGS.

IN THREE VOLUMES?

VOL. II.

LONDON :
PRINTED FOR THOMAS TEGG,

73, CHE APS IDE.

LONDON :
J. BADDON, PRIHTBIt, CA8TLK STREET, FINSBI'Ry.

trt

THE RIGHT HONOURABLE

r I 1 HE EARL OF DARLINGTON,

LORD LIEUTENANT AND VICE-ADMIRAL OF THE COUNTY
PALATINE OF DURHAM, &c. &c. &c.

MY LORD,

To YOUR LORDSHIP as an encourager of the old country sport?
and usages chiefly treated of in my book, and as a maintainer of the ancient
hospitality so closely connected with them, which associated the Peasantry
of this land with its Nobles, in bonds which degraded neither

I RESPECTFULLY DEDICATE THIS VOLUME ;

not unmindful of your Lordship's peculiar kindness to me under difficulties,
and not unmoved by the pride which I shall have in subscribing myself,

MY LORD,

YOUR LORDSHIP'S HIGHLY HONOURED,
. MOST OBEDIENT,

AND VERY HUMBLE SERVANT,

WJMJAM HONE.

Atomy 27, 1827.

PREFACE.

BEFORE remarking on the work terminating with this vo.ume, some notice should be
token of its Frontispiece.

I. The " Clog" or " Perpetual Almanack" having been in common use with our
ancient ancestors, a representation and explanation of it seemed requisite among
the various accounts of manners and customs related in the order of the calendar.

Of the word "clog," there is no satisfactory etymology in the sense here used, which
signifies an almanack made upon a square stick. Dr. Robert Plot, who published the
" History of Staffordshire," in 1686, instances a variety of these old almanacks then
in use in that county. Some he calls " public," because they were of a large size,
and commonly hung at one end of the mantle-tree of the chimney ; others he calls
'* private," because they were smaller, and carried in the pocket. For the better
understanding of the figure? on these clogs, he caused a family clog " to be represented
in piano, each angle of the square stick, with the moiety of each of the flat sides be-
longing to it, being expressed apart." From this clog, so represented in Dr. Plot's
history, the engraving is taken which forms the frontispiece now, on his authority,
about to be described.

There are 3 months contained upon each of the four edges ; the number of the days
in *hem are represented by the notches ; that which begins each month has a short
,pread ; ng stroke turned up from it ; every seventh notch is of a larger size, and stands
for Sunday, (or rather, perhaps, for the first day of each successive natural week in
the year.)

Against many of the notches there are placed on the left hand several marks or
symbols denoting the golden number or cycle of the Moon, which number if under 5,
is represented by so many points, or dots ; but if 5, a line is drawn from the notch, or
day, it belongs to, with a hook returned back against the course of the line, which, if
cut off at due distance, may be taken for a V, the numeral signifying 5. If the golden
number be above 5, and under 10, it is then marked out by the hooked line, which is
5 ; and with one point, which makes 6 ; or two, which makes 7 ; or three, for 8 ; or
four, for 9; the said line being crossed with a broad' stroke spreading at each end,
which represents an X, when the golden number for the day, over against which it is
put, is 10; points being added (as above over the hook for 5,) till the number arises
to 15, when a hook is placed again at the end of the line above the X, to show us that
number.

The figures issuing from the notches, towards the right hand, are symbols or hiero-
glyphics, of either, 1st, the offices, or endowments of the saints, before whose festivals
they are placed ; or 2dly, the manner of their martyrdoms ; or 3dly, their actions,
vr the work or sport, in fashion about the time when their feasts are kept.

For instance: 1. from the notch which represents January 13th,' on the feast of St.
Hilary, issues a cross or badge of a bishop, as St. Hilary was ; from March 1st, a harp,
showing the feast of St. David, by that instrument ; from June 29th, the keys for St.
Peter, reputed the Janitor of heaven ; from October 25th, a pair of shoes for St
Crispin, the patron of jshoe-makers. Of class 2, are the axe against January '25th, the
feast of St. Paul, who was beheaded with an axe; the ? \ord igainst June 24th,

Yin PREFACE.

the feast of St. John Baptist, who was beheaded ; the gridiron against August 10th, the
feast of St. Lawrence, who suffered martyrdom on one ; a wiieel on the 25th of Novem
her, for St. Catherine, and a decussated cross on the last of that month, for St. An.
drew, who are said also to have suffered death by such instruments. Of the 3d kind, are
the star on the 6th of January, to denote the Epiphany ; a true lover's knot against the
14th of February, for Valentine's-day ; a bough against the 2d of March, for St.
Ceadda, who lived a Hermit's life in the woods near Litchfield ; a bough on the 1st of
May, for the May-bush, then usually set up with great solemnity ; and a rake on the
llth of June, St. Barnabas'-day, importing that then it is hay-harvest. So, a pot is
set against the 23d of November, for the feast of St. Clement, from the ancient custom
of going about that night to beg drink to make merry with : for the purification, an-
nunciation, and all other feasts of our lady, there is always the figure of a heart : and
lastly, for December 25th, or Christmas-day, a horn, the ancient vessel in which the
Danes use to wassail, or drink healths ; signifying to us, that this is the time we ought
to rejoiae and make merry.

II, Respecting this second volume of the Every-Day Book, it is scarcely necessary
to say more than that it has been conducted with the same desire and design as the
preceding volume ; and that it contains a much greater variety of original information
concerning manners and customs. I had so devoted myself to this main object, as to
find no lack of materials for carrying it further ; nor were my correspondents, who had
largely increased, less communicative : but there were some readers who thought the
work ought to have been finished in one volume, and others, who were not inclined to
follow beyond a second ; and their apprehensions that it could not, or their wishes
that it should not be carried further, constrained me to close it. As an " Everlasting
Calendar" of amusements, sports, and pastimes, incident to the year, the Every-Day
Book is complete ; and I venture, without fear of disproof, to affirm, that there is not
such a copious collection of pleasant facts and illustrations, " for daily use and diver-
sion," in the language ; nor are any other volumes so abundantly stored with original
designs, or with curious and interesting subjects so meritoriously engraven.

III. Every thing that I wished to bring into the Every-Day Book, but was compelled
Co omit from its pages, in order to conclude it within what the public would deem a
reasonable size, I purpose to introduce in my Table Book. In that publication, I have
the satisfaction to find myself aided by many of my " Every-Day " correspondents, to
whom I tender respectful acknowledgments and hearty thanks. This is the more due
to them here, because I frankly confess that to most I owe letters ; I trust that those
who have not been noticed as they expected, will impute the neglect to any thing
rather than insensibility of my obligations to them, for their valuable favours.

Although I confess myself to have been highly satisfied by the general reception of
the Every-Day Book, and am proud of the honour it has derived from individuals of
high literary reputation, yet there is one class whose approbation I value most especi-
ally. The " mothers of England " have been pleased to entertain it as an every-day
assistant in their families ; and instructors of youth, of both sexes, have placed it in
school-libraries : this ample testimonial, that, while engaged in exemplifying " man-
ners," I have religiously adhered to " morals," is the most gratifying reward I could
hope to receive.

February, 1827. W. HONE

THE

EVERY-DAY BOOK.

JANUARY.

Then came old January, wrapped well
In many weeds to keep' the cold away ;
Yet did he quake and quiver like to quell ,
And blow his nayles to warm them if he may ;
For they were numb'd with holding all the day
An hatchet keene, with which he felled wood,
And from the trees did lop the needlesse spray ;
Upon a huge great earth-pot steane he stood,
From whose wide mouth there flowed forth the Romane flood.

Spenser
JUtO ! was the first entry by entries to the days, and months, and sea-

merchants and tradesmen of our fore-
fathers' days, in beginning their new
account-books with the new year. LAUS
DEO ! then, be the opening of this T ;o-
ume of the Every-Day Book, wherein we
lake further " note of time." and make
Vet.

sons, in " every varied posture, place,
and hour/''

JANUARY,
mentioned,*

besides the
was called by

names already
the Anglo-

* In vol. i. p. 2.

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK.-JANUARY 1,

Saxons Giuli aftera, signifying the second
Giul, or Yule, or, as \ve should say, the
second Christmas.* Of Yule itself much
will be observed, when it can be better
said.

To this month there is an ode with a
verse beautifully descriptive of the Roman
symbol of the year :f

Tis he ! the two-fac'd Janus comes in view ;
Wild hyacinths his robe adorn,
And snow-drops, rivals of the morn

He spurns the goat aside,

But smiles upon the new

Emerging year with pride :
And now unlocks, with agate key,
The ruby gates of orient day.

CLIMATE.

Mr. Luke Howard is the author of a
highly useful work, entitled " The Climate
of London, deduced from Meteorological
Observations, made at different places in
the neighbourhood of the Metropolis :
London, 1818." 2 vols. 8vo. Out of this
magazine of fact it is proposed to extract,
from time to time, certain results which
may acquaint general readers with useful
knowledge concerning the weather of our
latitude, and induce the inquisitive to
resort to Mr. Howard's book, as a careful
guide of high authority in conducting their
researches. That gentleman, it is hoped,
will not deem this an improper use of his
labours : it is meant to be, as far as re-
gards himself, a humble tribute to his
talents and diligence. With these views,
under each month will be given a state of
the weather, in Mr. Howard's own words :
and thus we begin.

JANUARY WEATHER

The Sun in the middle of this month
continues about 8 h. 20 m. above the hori-

zon. The Temperature rises in the day,
on an average of twenty years, to 40-28*
and falls in the night, in the open country
to 31-36 the difference, 8'92, repre-
senting the mean effect of the sun's rays
for the month, may be termed the solar
variation of the temperature.

The Mean Temperature of the month, if
the observations in this city be included,
is 36-34. But this mean has a range, in
ten years, of about 10-25, which may be
termed the lunar variation of the tempera-
ture. It holds equally in the decade,
beginning with 1797, observed in Lon-
don, and in that beginning with 1807, in
the country. In the former decade, the
month was coldest in 1802, and warmest
in 1812, and coldest in 1814. I have
likewise shown, that there was a tendency
in the daily variation of temperature
through this month, to proceed, in these
respective periods of years, in opposite
directions. The prevalence of different
classes of winds, in the different periods,
is the most obvious cause of these pe-
riodical variations of the mean tempera-
ture.

The Barometer in this month rises, on
an average of ten years, to 3-40 in., and
falls to 28-97 in. : the mean range is there-
fore 1-43 in.; but the extreme range in
ten years is 2;38 in. The mean height
for the month is about 29-79 inches.

The prevailing Winds are the class from
west to north. The northerly predomi-
nate, by a fourth of their amount, over the
southerly winds.

The average Evaporation (on a total of
30-50 inches for the year) is 0-832 in.,
and the mean of De Luc's hydrometer 30.

The mean Rain, at the surface of the
earth, is 1-959 in. ; and the number of
days on which snow or rain falls, in this
mouth, averages 14, 4.

A majority of the Nights in this month
have constantly the temperature at or
below the foregoing point.J

Long ere the lingering dawn of that blythe morn
Which ushers in the year, the roosting cock,
Flapping his wings, repeats his larum shrill ;
But on that morn no busy flail obeys
His rousing call ; no sounds but sounds of joy
Salute the ear the first-foot's entering step,
That sudden on the floor is welcome heard,
Ere blushing maids have braided up their hair ;
The laugh, the hearty kiss, the good new year

Sayers. t See vol. i. p. ]. j Howard on Climul*.

The first vUitant who enters a house on New-year's day is called \hejlrst-foot.

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. JANUARY 1.

Pronounced with honest warmth. In village, grange,
And burrow town, the steaming flaggon, borne
From house to house, elates the poor man's heart,
And makes him feel that life has still its joys.
The aged and the young, man, woman, child,
Unite in social glee ; even stranger dogs,
Meeting with bristling back, soon lay aside
Their snarling aspect, and in sportive chace,
Excursive scour, or wallow in the snow.
With sober cheerfulness, the grandam eyes
Her offspring round her, all in health and peace ;
And, thankful that she's spared to see this day
Return once more, breathes low a secret prayer,
That God would shed a blessing on their heads.

1 .

The Saints of the Roman calendars and
martyr ologies.

So far as the rev. Alban Butler, in his
every-day biography of Roman catholic
saints, has written their memoirs, their
names have been given, together with
notices of some, and especially of those
retained in the calendar of the church of
England from the Romish calendar.
Similar notices of others will be offered in
continuation ; but, on this high festival in
the calendar of nature, particular or fur-
ther remark on the saints' festivals would
interrupt due attention to the season, and
therefore we break from them to observe
that day which all enjoy in common,

$*to gear's? Bap.

Referring for the " New-year's gifts,"
the " Candlemas-bull," and various ob-
servances of our ancestors and ourselves,
to the first volume of this work, wherein
they are set forth " in lively pourtraie-
ture," we stop a moment to peep into the
" Mirror of the Months," and inquire
" Who can see a new year open upon
him, without being better for the pros-
pect without making sundry wise reflec-
tions (for any reflections on this subject
must be comparatively wise ones) on the
step he is about to take towards the goal
of his being ? Every first of January that
we arrive at, is an imaginary mile-stone
on the turnpike track of human life ; at
once a resting place for thought and me-
ditation, and a starting point for fresh
exertion in the performance of our jour-
ney. The man who does not at least
propose to himself to be better this year
than he was last, must be either very

Grahame

good, or very bad indeed ! And only to
vropose to be better, is something; if
nothing else, it is an acknowledgment of
our need to be so, which is the first step
towards amendment. But, in fact, to
propose to oneself to do well, is in some
sort to do well, positively ; for there is no
such thing as a stationary point in human
endeavours ; he who is not worse to-day
than he was yesterday, is better ; and he
who is not better, is worse."

It is written, " Improve your time," in
the text-hand set of copies put before us
when we were better taught to write than
to understand what we wrote. How often
these three words recurred at that period
without their meaning being discovered !
How often and how serviceably they have
recurred since to some who have obeyed
the injunction ! How painful has reflec-
tion been to others, who recollecting it,
preferred to suffer rather than to do!

The author of the paragraph quoted
above, expresses forcible remembrance of
his youthful pleasures on the coming in
of the new year. " Hail! to thee, JANU-
ARY! all hail! cold and wintry as thou
art, if it be but in virtue of thy first day.
THE DAY, as the French call it, par excel-'
lence, ' Le jour de Tan.' Come about
me, all ye little schoolboys that have
escaped from the unnatural thraldom of
your taskwork come crowding about
me, with your untamed hearts shouting
in your unmodulated voices, and your
happy spirits dancing an untaught mea-
sure in your eyes! Come, and help me
to speak the praises of new-year's day '.
your day one of the three which have,
of late, become yours almost exclusively,
and which have bettered you, and have
been bettered themselves, by the change.

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. JANUARY 1.

Christmay-day, which was ; New-year's-
day, which is; and Twelfth-day, which
is to be; let us compel them all three
into our presence with a whisk of our
imaginative wand convert them into one,
as the conjurer does his three glittering
balls and then enjoy them all together,
with their dressings, and coachings, and
visitings, and greetings, and gifts, and
" many happy returns" with their plum-
puddings, and mince-pies, and twelfth-
cakes, and neguses with their forfeits,
and fortune-tellings, and blindman's-buffs,
and sittings up to supper with their
pantomimes, and panoramas, and new
penknives, and pastrycooks' L'hops in

short, with their endless round of ever
new nothings, the absence of a relish for
which is but ill supplied, in after life, by
that feverish lingering and thirsting after
excitement, which usurp without filling
its place. Oh ! that I might enjoy those
nothings once again in fact, as I can in
fancy ! But I fear the wish is worse than
an idle one ; for it not only may not be,
but it ought not to be. u We cannot
have our cake and eat it too," as the
vulgar somewhat vulgarly, but not less
shrewdly, express it. And this is as it
should be; for if we could, it would
neither be worth the eating nor the
having.''*

WASSAIL!

Health, my lord king, the sweet Rowena said,
Health, cry'd the chieftain, to the Saxon maid ;
Then gayly rose, and 'midst the concourse wide,
Kis&'d her hale lips, and plac'd her by his side :
At the soft scene such gentle thoughts abound,
That health and kisses 'mongst the guests went round
From this the social custom took its rise,
We still retain, and must for ever prize.

Now, on New-year's- day as on the pre-
vious eve, the wassail bowl is carried
from door to door, with singing and mer-
riment. In Devonshire,

A massy bowl, to deck the jovial day,
Flash'd from its ample round a sunlike ray.
Full many a cent'ry it shone forth to grace
The festive spirit of th* Andarton race,
As, to the sons of sacred union dear,
It welcomed with lambs' woo/ the rising year.
Polwhele.

Mr. Brand says, " It appears from
Thomas de la Moore,* and old Havillan,f
that u-as-haile and drinc-heil weve the

* Vita Edw. II. f la Architren. lib. 2.

usual ancient phrases of quaffing among
the English, and synonymous with the
' Come, here's to you,' and I'll pledge
you/ of the present day."

In the " Antiquarian Repertory," a
large assemblage of curious communica-
tions, published by Mr. JefFery, of Pall-
mall, in 4 vols. 4to. there is the followino
paper relating to an ancient carving re-
presented in that work, from whence the
above engraving is taken. The verses
beneath it are a version of the old lines
in Robert, of Gloucester's chronicle, by
Mr. Jeffery's correspondent.

Mirror of the Months.

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. JANUARY 1.

For the Antiquarian Repertory. hearth with their cheerful neighbours,

In the parish of Berlen, near Snodland, and then in the spicy wassell-bowl (which
in the county of Kent, are the vestiges of testifies the goodness of their hearts)
a very old mansion, known by the name drowned every former animosity an ex-
of Groves. Being on the spot before the ample worthy modern imitation. Wassell,
began to pull down the front, was the word ; Wassell, every guest return-
ed as he took the circling goblet from his
friend, whilst song and civil mirth
brought in the infant year. This annual
custom, says Geoffrey of Monmouth, had
its rise from Rouix, or Rowen, or as some
will have it, Rowena, daughter of the
Saxon Hengist; she, at the command of
her father, who had invited the British
king Voltigern to a banquet, came in the
presence with a bowl of wine, and wel-
comed him in these words, Louerd king
wass-heil ; he in return, by the help of an
interpreter, answered, Drinc heile; and,
if we may credit Robert of Gloster,

l)in antt Sttte $ia attoune antf glafc ttronfee ijtre fyil
tljat foaS tfjo in fl)iS lautf ti)e berSt foa&f)*tt
in language of J^ajrojme tf)at toe mtgjt ebere tfotte
So toell ije pattf) tf)e Me about, tf)at je is gut borgute.

with such sort of work before the four-
teenth century. T. N.

workmen

I had the curiosity to examine its interior
remains, when, amongst other things well
worth observation, appeared in the large
oak beam that supported the chimney-
piece, a curious piece of carved work, of
which the preceding is an exact copy. Its
singularity induced me to set about an
investigation, which, to my satisfaction,
was not long without success. The large
bowl in the middle is the figure of the
old wassell-bowl, so much the delight of
our hardy ancestors, who, on the vigil of
the new year, never failed (says my
author) to assemble round the glowing

Thomas De Le Moor, in his " Life of
Edward the Second," says partly the
same as Robert of Gloster, and only
adds, that Wass-haile and Drinc-hail
were the usual phrases of quaffing amongst
the earliest civilized inhabitants of this
island.

The two birds upon the bowl did for
some time put me to a stand, till meeting
with a communicative person at Hobar-
row, he assured me they were two hawks,
as I soon plainly perceived by their bills
and beaks, and were a rebus of the
builder's name. There was a string from
the neck of one bird to the other, which,
it is reasonable to conjecture, was to note
that they must be joined together to
show their signification ; admitting this,
they were to be red hawks. Upon in-
quiry, I found a Mr. Henry Hawks, the
owner of a farm adjoining to Groves ; he
assured me, his father kept Grove farm
about forty years since, and that it was
iuilt by one of their name, and had been
m his family upwards of four hundred
years, as appeared by an old lease in his
possession.

The apple branches on each side of the
bowl, I think, means no more than that
they drank good cider at their Wassells.
Saxon words at the extremities of the
beam are already explained ; and the
mask carved brackets beneath correspond

The following pleasant old song, in-
serted by Mr. Brand, from Ritson's col-
lection of " Antient Songs," was met with
by the Editor of the Every-day Book, in
1819, at the printing-office of Mr. Rann,
at Dudley, printed by him for the Was-
sailers of Staffordshire and Warwick-
shire. It went formerly to the tune of
" Gallants come away.

A CARROLL FOR A WASSELL-BOWL.

A jolly Wassel-Bowl,

A Wassel of good ale,
Well fare the butler's soul,
That setteth this to sale 5

Our jolly Wassel.
Good Dame, here at your door

Our Wassel we begin,
We are all maidens poor,
We pray now let us in,

With our WasseL
Our Wassel we do fill

With apples and with spice,

Then grant us your good will

To taste here once or twice

Of our good WasseL
If any maidens be

Here dwelling in this house,
They kindly will agree
To take a full carouse

Of our Wassr 1.

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. JANUARY 1.

But here they let us stand

All freezing in the cold ;
Good master, give command,

To enter and be bold,

With our Wassei

Much joy into this hall

With us is entered in,
Our master first of all,

We hope will now begin,

Of our Wassei .

And after his good wife

Our spiced bowl will try,
The Lord prolong your life,

Good fortune we espy,

For our Wassei.

Some bounty from your hands,

Our Wassei to maintain .
We'll buy no house nor lands

With that which we do gain,

With our Wassei.

This is our merry night

Of choosing King and Queen r

Then be it your delight

That something may be seen
In our Wassei.

It is a noble part

To bear a liberal mind,
God bless our master's heart,

For here we comfort find,

With our Wassei.

And now we must be gone,
To seek out more good cheer ;

Where bounty will be shown,
As we have found it here,

With our Wassei.

Much joy betide them all, "^

Our prayers shall be still,
We hope and ever shall,

For this your great good will,
To our Wassei.

From the " Wassail " we derive, per-
haps, a feature by which we are distin-
guished. An Englishman eats no more
than a Frenchman; but he makes yule-
tide of all the year. In virtue of his
forefathers, he is given to " strong drink."
He is a beer-drinker, an enjoyer of " fat
ale ;" a lover of the best London porter
and double XX, and discontented unless
he can get " stout." He is a sitter withal.
Put an Englishman " behind a pipe" and
a full pot, and he will sit till he cannot
stand. At first he is silent ; but as his
liquor gets towards the bottom, he inclines
towards conversation ; as he replenishes,
his coldness thaws, and he is conversa-
tional ; the oftener he calls to " fill again,''
ihe more talkative he becomes; and when

thoroughly liquefied, his loquacity is de-
luging. He is thus in public-house par-
lours: he is in parties somewhat higher,
much the same. The business of dinner
draws on the greater business of drinking,
and the potations are strong and fiery;
full-bodied port, hot sherry, and ardent
spirits. This occupation consumes five
or six hours, and sometimes more, after
dining. There is no rising from it, but
to toss off the glass, and huzza after the
" hip ! hip ! hip \" of the toast giver. A
calculation of the number who customa-
rily " dine out" in this manner half the
week, would be very amusing, if it were
illustrated by portraits of some of the
indulgers. It might be further, and more
usefully, though not so agreeably illus-
trated, by the reports of physicians, wives,
and nurses, and the bills of apothecaries.
Habitual sitting to drink is the " besetting
sin" of Englishmen the creator of their
gout and palsy, the embitterer of their
enjoyments, the impoverisher of their
property, the widow-maker of their wives.

By continuing the " wassail" of our an-
cestors,we attempt to cultivate the body as
they did ; but we are other beings, culti-
vated in other ways, with faculties and
powers of mind that would have astonished
their generations, more than their robust
frames, if they could appear, would asto-
nish ours. Their employment was in
hunting their forests for food, or battling
in armour with risk of life and limb. They
had no counting-houses, no ledgers, no
commerce, no Christmas bills, no letter-
writing, no printing, no engraving, no
bending over the desk, no " wasting of the
midnight oil " and the brain together, no
financing, not a hundredth part of the
relationships in society, nor of the cares
that we have, who " wassail" as they did,
and wonder we are not so strong as they
were. There were no Popes nor Addi-
sons in the days of Nimrod.

The most perfect fragment of the " was-
sail" exists in the usage of certain cor-
poration festivals. The person presiding
stands up at the close of dinner, and
drinks from a flaggon usually of silver
having a handle on each side, by which
he holds it with each hand, and the toast-
master announces him as drinking " the
health of his brethren out of the * loving
cup.' The loving cup, which is the an-
cient wassail-bowl, is then passed to the
guest on his left hand, and by him to his
left-hand neighbour, and as it finds its
way round the r-cvm to each guest in his

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. JANUARY 1.

turn, so each stands up and drinks to the
president " out of the loving cup."

The subsequent song is sung in Glou-
cestershire on New-year's eve :

Wassail ! Wassail ! over the town,
Our toast it is white, our ale it is brown :
Our bowl it is made of a maplin tree,
We be good fellows all ; I drink to thee.

Here's to *****, and to his right ear,
God send our maister a happy New Year ;
A happy New Year as e'er he did see
With my Wassailing bowl I drink to thee.

Here's to * * * *, f and to his right eye,
God send our mistress a good Christmas pie :
A good Christmas pie as e'er I did see
With my Wassailing bowl I drink to thee.

Here's to Filpail, J and her long tail,
God send our measter us never may fail
Of a cup of good beer ; I pray jou draw near,
And then you shall hear our jolly wassail.

Be here any maids, I suppose here be some ;

Sure they will not let young men stand on the cold stone

Sing hey O maids, come trole back the pin,

And the fairest maid in the house, let us all in.

Come, butler, come bring us a bowl of the best :
I hope your soul in Heaven may rest :
But if you do bring us a bowl of the small,
Then down fall butler, bowl, and all.

Of this usage in Scotland, commencing
on New-year's eve, there was not room in
the last sheet of the former volume, to in-
clude the following interesting communica-
tion. It is, here, not out of pi ace, because,
in fact, the usage runs into the morning
of the New Year.

DAFT DAYS. HOGMANY.

Jo the Editor of the Every-Day Book.

Sir,

The annexed account contains, I believe,

the first notice of the acting in our Daft

Days. I have put it hurriedly together,

but, if of use, it is at your service.

I am, Sir, &c.

JOHN WOOD REDDOCK.
Falkirk, December, 1825.

During the early ages of Christianity,
when its promulgation among the barba-

rous Celts and Gauls had to contend with
the many obstacles which their ignorance
and superstition presented, it is very
probable that the clergy, when they were
unable entirely to abolish pagan rites,
would endeavour, as far as possible, to
twist them into something of a Christian
cast ; and of the turn which many heathen
ceremonies thus received, abundant in-
stances are afforded in the Romish
church.

The performance of religious MYSTE-
RIES, which continued for a long period,
seems to have been accompanied with
much licentiousness, and undoubtedly
was grafted upon the stock of pagan ob-
servances. It was discovered, how-
ever, that the purity of the Christian reli-
gion could not tolerate them, and they
were succeeded by the MORALITIES, the
subjects of which were either historical, or
some existing abuse, that it was wished

* The name of some horse.

t The name of another horse.

I The name of a cow.

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. JANUARY 1.

to aim a blow at. Of this we have an in-
teresting instance in an account given by
sir William Eure, the envoy of Henry
the Eighth to James the Fifth, in a letter
to the lord privy seal of England, dated
26th of January 1 540, on the performance
of a play, or morality, written by the cele-
brated sir David Lindsay. It was enti-
tled The Satire of the Three Estates, and
was performed at Linlithgow, " before
the king, queene, and the whole counsaill,
spirituall and temporall," on the feast of
Epiphany. It gives a singular proof of
the liberty then allowed, by king James
and his court witnessing the exhibition of
a piece, in which the corruptions of the
existing government and religion were
treated with the most satirical severity.

The principal dramatis persona were a
king, a bushop, a burges man, " armed in
harness, with a swerde drawn in his
hande," a poor man, and Experience,
" clede like ane doctor." The poor man
(who seems to have represented the peo-
ple) "looked at the king, and said he was
not king in Scotland, for there was an-
other king in Scotland that hanged Johne
Armstrong with his fellows, Sym the
laird, and mony other mae." He then
makes ' a long narracione of the oppres-
sion of the poor by the taking of the corse-
presaunte beits, and of the herrying of
poor men by the consistorye lawe, and of
mony other abusions of the spiritualitie
and church. Then the bushop raised and
rebuked him, and defended himself. Then
the man of arms alleged the contrarie, and
commanded the poor man to go on. The
poor man proceeds with a long list of the
bushop's evil practices, the vices of clois-
ters, &c. This is proved by EXPERIENCE,
who, from a New Testament, showes the
office of a bishop. The man of arms and
burges approve of all that was said against
the clergy, and allege the expediency of a
reform, with the consent of parliament.
The bushop dissents. The man of arms
and burgea said they were two and he but
one, wherefore their voice should have the
most effect. Thereafter the king in the
play ratified, approved, and confirmed all
that was rehearsed."

None of the ancient religious observ-
ances, which have escaped, through the
riot of time and barbarism, to our day,
have occasioned more difficulty than that
which forms the subject of these remarks.
It is remarkable, that in all disputed ety-
mological investigations, a number of
words got as explanatory, are so pro-

vokingly improbable, that decision is ren-
dered extremely difficult. With no term
is this more the case, than HOGMENAY. So
wide is the field of conjecture, as to the
signification of this word, that we shall
not occupy much space in attempting to
settle which of the various etymologies is
the most correct.

Many complaints were made to the
Gallic synods of the great excesses com-
mitted on the last night of the year and
first of January, by companies of both
sexes dressed in fantastic habits, who ran
about with their Christmas boxes, calling
tire lire, and begging for the lady in the
straw both money and wassels. The chief
of these strollers was called Rollet Follet.
They came into the churches during the
vigils, and disturbed the devotions. A
stop was put to this in 1598, at the repre-
sentation of the bishop of Angres ; but
debarred from coming to the churches,
they only became more licentious, and
went about the country frightening the
people in their houses, so that the legisla-
ture having interfered, an end was put to
the practice in 1668.

The period during the continuance of
these festivities corresponded exactly with
the present daft days, which, indeed, is
nearly a translation of their French name
f$tes de fous. The cry used by the ha-
chelettes during the sixteenth century has
also a striking resemblance to the still
common cry " hogmenay trololay gi'us
your white bread and nane o' your grey,"
it being " au gui menez, Rollet Follet, au
gui menez, tire" lire, mainte du blanc et
point du bis."

The word Rollet is, perhaps, a corrup-
tion of the ancient Norman invocation of
their hero, Rollo. Gui, however, seems to
refer to the druidical custom of cutting
branches from the mistletoe at the close of
the year, which were deposited in the
temples and houses with great ceremony.
A supposition has been founded upon
the reference of this cry to the birth of our
Saviour, and the arrival of the wise men
from the east ; of whom the general belief
in the church of Rome is, that they were
three in number. Thus the language, as
borrowed from the French may be " hom-
me est ne, trois rois allois !" A man is
born, three kings are come !

Others, fond of referring to the dark
period of J;he Goths, imagine that this
name had*ts origin there. Thus, minne
was one of the cups drunk at the feast of
Yule, as celebrated in the times of hea-

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. JANUARY 1.

thenism, and oel is the general term for
festival. The night before Yule was called
hoggin-nott, or hogenat, signifying the
slaughter night, and may have originated
from the number of cattle slaughtered on
that night, either as sacrifices, or in pre-
paration for the feast on the following
day. They worshipped the sun under the
name Thor. Hence, the call for the ce-
lebration of their sacrifices would be
" Hogg-minne ! Thor ! oel ! oel !" Re-
member your sacrifices, the feast of Thor !
the feast !

That the truth lies among these various
explanations, there appears no doubt; we
however turn to hogmenay among our-
selves, and although the mutilated legend
which we have to notice remains but as a
few scraps, it gives an idea of the exist-
ence of a custom which has many points
of resemblance to that of France during
the fetes dufous. It has hitherto escaped
the attention of Scottish antiquaries.

Every person knows the tenacious ad-
herence of the Scottish peasantry to the
tales and observances of auld lang syne.
Towards the close of the year many super-
stitions are to this day strictly kept up
among the country people, chiefly as con-
nected with their cattle and crops. Their
social feelings now get scope, and while
one may rejoice that he has escaped diffi-
culties and dangers during the past year,
another looks forward with bright antici-
pation for better fortune in the year to
come. The bannock of the oaten cake gave
place a little to the currant loaf and bun,
and the amories of every cottager have
goodly store of dainties, invariably includ-
ing a due proportion of Scotch drink. The
countenances of all seem to say

" Let mirth abound ; let social cheer
Invest the dawnin' o' the year,
Let blithsome Innocence appear

To crown our joy,
Nor envy wi' sarcastic sneer,

Our bliss destroy.

When merry Yuleday comes, I trow
You'll scantlings find a hungry mou ;
Sma* are our cares, our stomacks fu*

O' gusty gear
An' kicksliaws, strangers to our view

Sin' fairnyear.

Then tho' at odds wi' a' the warl,
Among oursels we'll never quarrel
Though discard gie a canker'd snarl

To spoil our glee,
As lang's there pith into the barrel

We'll drink and gree !"
Ferguson's Daft Days.

It is deemed lucky to see the new moon
with some money (silver) in tne pocket.
A similar idea is perhaps connected with
the desire to enter the new year rife 6*
roughness. The grand affair among the
boys in the town is to provide themselves
v?iih fausse faces, or masks ; and those with
crooked horns and beards are in greatest
demand. A high paper cap, with one of
their great grandfather's antique coats,
then equips them as a guisard they thus
go about the shops seeking their hogme-
nay. In the carses and moor lands, how-
ever, parties of guisards have long kept up
the practice in great style. Fantastically
dressed, and each having his character al-
lotted him, they go through the farm
houses, and unless denied entrance by
being told that the OLD STYLE is kept, per-
form what must once have been a con-
nected dramatic piece. We have heard
various editions of this, but the substance
of it is something like the following :

One enters first to speak the prologue
in the style of the Chester mysteries, call-
ed the Whitsun plays, and which appear
to have been performed during the may-
oralty of John Arneway, who filled that
office in Chester from 1268 to 1276. It
is usually in these words at present

Rise up gudewife and shake your feathers ;

Dinna think that we're beggars,

We are bairns com'd to play

And for to seek our hogmenay ;

Redd up stocks, redd up stools,

Here comes in a pack o' fools.*

Muckle head and little wit stand behint the
door,

But sic a set as we are, ne'er were here be-
fore.

One with a sword, who corresponds
with the Rollet, now enters and says :

Here conies in the great king of Macedon,
Who has conqtier'd all the world but Scot-
land alone.
When I came to Scotland my heart grew so

cold

To see a little nation so stout and so bold,
So stout and so bold, so frank and so free I
Call upon Galgacus to fight wi' me

If national partiality does not deceive
us, we think this speech points out the
origin of the story to be the Roman in-
vasion under Agricola, and the name of
Galgacus (although Galacheus and Sain^

* The author of Waverly, in a note to the Abbot,
mentions three Moralities played during the time of
the reformation The Abbot of Unreason, The Bt)
Bishop, and the Pepe o' Fools may not pack o'joolt
be a corruption of this last i

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK^-JANUARY 1.

Lawrence are sometimes substituted, but
most probably as corruptions) makes the
famous struggle for freedom by the Scots
under that leader, in the battle fought at
the foot of the Grampians, the subject of
this historical drama.

Enter Galgacus.
Here comes in Galgacus wha doesna fear

my name ?
Sword and buckler by my side, I hope to win

the game !

They close in a sword fight, and in the
"hash smash" the chief is victorious.
He says :
Down Jack ! down to the ground you must

Oh O ! what's this I've done ?
I've killed my brother Jack, my father's

only son !
Call upon the doctor.

Enter Doctor (saying)
Here comes in the best doctor that ever
Scotland bred.

Chief. What can you cure ?
The doctor then relates his skill in sur-
gery.

Chief. What will ye tak to cure this
man?

Doctor. Ten pound and a bottle of
wine.

Chief. Will six not do ?
Doctor. No, you must go higher.
Chief. Seven?

Doctor. That will not put on the pot,
&c.

A bargain however is struck, and the
Doctor says to Jack, start to your feet and
stand !

Jack. Oh hon, my back, I'm sairly
wounded.

Doctor. What ails your back ?
Jack. There's a hole in't you may turn
your tongue ten times round it !
Doctor. How did you get it?
Jack. Fighting for our land.
Doctor. How mony did you kill ?
Jack. I killed a' the loons save ane,
but he ran, he wad na stand.

Here, most unfortunately, there is a
" hole Vthe ballad,' a hiatus which irre-
parably closes the door upon our keenest
prying. During the late war with France
Jack was made to say he had been " fight-
ing the French," and that the loon who
took leg bail was no less a personage than
NAP. le grand ! Whether we are to re-
gard this as a dark prophetic anticipation
of what did actually take place, seems

really problematical. The strange event-
ful history however is wound up by the
entrance of Judas with the bag. He says :

Here comes in Judas Judas is my name,
If ye pit nought sillar i'my bag, for gude-

sake mind our wame !
When I gaed to the castle yett and tint at

the pin,
They keepit the keys o' the castle wa , and

, wad na let me iu.
I've been i' the east carse,
I've been i* the west carse,
IVe been i' the carse o' Cowrie,
Where the clouds rain a' day wi' peas and

wi' beans !
And the farmers theek houses wi' needles

and prim!

I've seen geese ga'in* on pattens !
And swine fleeing i' the air like peelings o'

onions !
Our hearts are made o' steel, but our body's

sma' as ware,
If you've ouything to gi' us, stop it in there!

This character in the piece seems to
mark its ecclesiastical origin, being of
course taken from the office of the betrayer
in the New Testament ; whom, by the way,
he resembles in another point ; as extreme
jealousy exists among the party, this per-
sonage appropriates to himself the contents
of the bag The money and ivassel, which
usually consists offarles of short bread, or
cakes and pieces of cheese, are therefore
frequently counted out before the whole.

One of the guisards who has the best
voice, generally concludes the exhibition
by singing an " auld Scottish sang." The
most ancient melodies only are consi-
dered appropriate for this occasion, and
many very fine ones are often sung that
have not found their way into collections :
or the group join in a reel, lightly tripping
it, although encumbered with buskins of
straw wisps, to the merry sound of the
fiddle, which used to form a part of the
establishment of these itinerants. They
anciently however appear to have been ac-
companied with a musician, who played
the kythels, or stock-and-horn, a musical
instrument made of the thigh bone of a
sheep and the horn of a bullock.

The above practice, like many customs
of the olden time, is now quickly falling
into disuse, and the revolution of a few
years may witness the total extinction of
this seasonable doing. That there does
still exist in other places of Scotland the
remnants of plays performed upon similar
occasions, and which may contain many
interesting allusions, is very likely. Thji

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. JANUARY f.

noticed above, however, is the first which
we remember of seeing noticed in a par-
ticular manner.

The kirk of Scotland appears formerly
to have viewed these festivities exactly as
the Roman church in France did in the
sixteenth century ; and, as a proof of this,
and of the style in which the sport was an-
ciently conducted in the parish of Falkirk,
we have a remarkable instance so late as
the year 1 702. A great number of farmers'
sons and farm servants from the " East
Carse " were publicly rebuked before the
session, or ecclesiastical court, for going
about in disguise upon the last night of
December that year, " acting things un-
seemly ;" and having professed their sor-
row for the sinfulness of the deed, were
certified if they should be found guilty of
the like in time coming, they would be
proceeded against after another manner.
Indeed the scandalized kirk might have
been compelled to put the cutty stool in
requisition, as a consequence of such pro-
miscuous midnight meetings.

The observance of the old custom of
" first fits " upon New-year's day is kept
up at Falkirk with as much spirit as any
where else. Both Old and New Style
have their " keepers," although many of
the lower classes keep them in rather a
" disorderly style." Soon as the steeple
clock strikes the ominous tivelve, all is
running, and bustle, and noise; hot-pints
in clear scoured copper kettles are seen
in all directions, and a good noggin to the
well-known toast, " A gude new year, and
a merry han'sel Monday," is exchanged
among the people in the streets, as well
as friends in the houses. On han'sel
Monday O. S. the numerous colliers in
the neighbourhood of the town liave a
grand main of cocks ; but there is nothing
in these customs peculiar to the season.

Falkirk, 1825. J. W. R.

ANNUAL JOCULAR TENURE.

The following are recorded particulars
of a whimsical custom in Yorkshire, by
which a right of sheep-ivalk is held by the
tenants of a manor :

Hutton Conyers, Com, York.

Near this town, which lies a few miles
from Ripon, there is a large common,
called Hutton Conyers Moor, whereof
William Aislabie, esq. of Studley Royal,
(lord of the manor of Hutton Conyers,)
is lord of the soil, and on which there is a

large coney-warren belonging to the lord.
The occupiers of messuages and cottages
within the several towns of Hutton Co-
nyers, Baldersby, Rainton, Dishforth, and
Hewick, have right of estray for their sheep
to certain limited boundaries on the com-
mon, and each township has a shepherd.

The lord's shepherd has a preeminence
of tending his sheep on every part of the
common ; and wherever he herds the
lord's sheep, the several other shepherds
are to give way to him, and give up their
hoofing-place, so long as he pleases to
depasture the lord's sheep thereon. The
lord holds his court the first day in the
year, to entitle those several townships to
such right of estray ; the shepherd of each
township attends the court, and does
fealty, by bringing to the court a large
apple-pie, and a twopenny sweetcake,
(except the shepherd of Hewick, who
compounds by paying sixteen pence for
ale, which is drank as after mentioned,)
and a wooden spoon ; each pie is cut in
two, and divided by the bailiff, one half
between the steward, bailiff, and the te-
nant of the coney-warren before men-
tioned, and the other half into six parts,
and divided amongst the six shepherds of
the above mentioned six townships. In
the pie brought by the shepherd of Rain-
ton an inner one is made, filled with
prunes. The cakes are divided in the
same manner. The bailiff of the manor
provides furmety and mustard, and deli-
vers to each shepherd a slice of cheese
and a penny roll. The furmety, well
mixed with mustard, is put into an earthen
pot, and placed in a hole in the ground,
in a garth belonging to the bailiff's house;
to which place the steward of the court,
with the bailiff, tenant of the warren, and
six shepherds, adjourn with their respective
wooden spoons. The bailiff provides
spoons for the stewards, the tenant of the
warren, and himself. The steward first
pays respect to the furmety, by taking a
large spoonful, the bailiff has the next
honour, the tenant of the warren next,
then the shepherd of Hutton Conyers, and
afterwards the other shepherds by regular
turns ; then each person is served with a
glass of ale, (paid for by the sixteen pence
brought by the Hetvick shepherd,) and the
health of the lord of the manor is drank ;
then they adjourn back to the bailiffs
house, and the further business of the
court is proceeded in.

Each pie contains about a peck of
flour, is about sixteen or eighteen inches

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. JANUARY I.

diameter, and as large as will go into the a plentiful dinner in the servants' hall ;

mouth of an ordinary oven. The bailiff' and after dinner they also receive prizes

of the manor measures them with a rule, " "" '

and takes the diameter ; and if they are

not of a sufficient capacity, he threatens

to return them, and fine the town. If

they are large enough, he divides them

with a rule and compasses into four equal

parts ; of which the steward claims one,

the warrener another, and the remainder

Li divided amongst the shepherds. In

respect to the furmety, the top of the dish

in which it is put is placed level with the

surface of the ground ; all persons present

are invited to eat of it, and those who do

not, are not deemed loyal to the lord.

Every shepherd is obliged to eat of it, and

for that purpose is to take a spoon in his

pocket to the court ; for if any of them

neglect to carry a spoon with him, he is

to lay him down upon his belly, and sup _ . . - -_

the furmety with his face to the pot or On the head of each bald P ated tree -

dish at which time it is usual by way of Now wild duck and wid abound

sport, for some of the bystanders to dip Snipes sit by the half frozen rills

his face into the furmety; and sometimes Where woodcocks are frequently found,

a shepherd, for the sake of diversion, will That sport such amazing long bills.

purposely leave his spoon at home.*

The winds blow out shrilly and hoarse,

And the rivers are choking with ice ;
And it comes as a matter of course,
That Wallsends are rising in price.

for their good conduct as teachers, and
their diligence as scholars.

I am, &c.

J.S.

ODE TO THE NEW YEAR.
BY

A Gentleman of Literary Habits and Means.
For the Every-day Book.

All hail to the birth of the year,
See golden haired Phoebus afar ;
Prepares to renew his career,
And is mounting his dew spangled car.

Stern Winter congeals every brook,
That murmured so lately with glee ;
And places a snowy peruke,

NEW-YEAR S DAY IN SUSSEX.

To the Editor of the Every-Day Book.

Sir,

A practice which well deserves to be
known and imitated is established at
Maresfield-park, Sussex, the seat of sir
John Shelley, bart. M. P. Rewards are
annually given on New-year's day to such
of the industrious poor in the neighbour-
hood as have not received parish relief,
and have most distinguished themselves
by their good behaviour and industry, the
neatness of their cottages and gardens,
anil their constant attendance at church,
&c. The distribution is made by lady
Shelley, assisted by other ladies ; and it
is gratifymg to observe the happy effects
upon the character and disposition of the
poor people with which this benevolent
practice has been attended during the few
years it has been established. Though
the highest reward does not exceed two
guineas, yet it has excited a wonderful
spirit of emulation, and many a strenuous
effort to avoid receiving money from the
parisn. Immediately as the rewards are
given, all (he children belonging to the
Sunday-school and national-school lately
established in the parish, are set down to

* Bloum's Dug. Antiq. by Beckwith.

Alas ! for the poor ! as unwilling
I gaze on each famishing group ;
I never miss giving a shilling,
To the parish subscription for soup.

The wood pigeon, sacred to love,
Is wheeling in circles on high ;
How charming he looks in the grove '
How charming he looks in the pie '

Now gone is St. Thomas's day,
The shortest, alas ! in the year.
And Christmas is hasting away,
With its holly and berries and beer,

And the old year for ever is gone,
With the tabor, the pipe, and the dance ;
And gone is our collar of brawn,
And gone is the mermaid to France.

The scythe and the hour glass of time,
Those fatal mementos of woe,
Seem to utter in accents sublime,
" We are all of us going to go !"

We are truly and agreeably informet
by the " Mirror of the Months," thai
" Now periodical works put on their best
attire ; the old ones expressing their deter-
mination to become new, and the new

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. JANUARY 2, 3.

ones to become old ; and each makes a
point of putting forth the first of some
pleasant series (such as this, for example !),
which cannot fail to fix the most fugitive
of readers, and make him her own for
another twelve months at least."

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.

Under this head it is proposed to place
the " Mean temperature of every day in
the Year for London and its environs, on
an average of Twenty Years," as deduced
by Mr. Howard, from observations com-
mencing with the year 1797, and ending
with 1816.

For the first three years, Mr. Howard's
observations were conducted at Plaistow,
a village about three miles and a half
N. N. E. of the Royal Observatory at
Greenwich, four miles E. of the edge of
London, with the Thames a mile and a
half to the S., and an open level country,
for the most part well-drained land,
around it. The thermometer was attached
to a post set in the ground, under a Por-
tugal laurel, and from the lowness of this
tree, the whole instrument was within
three feet of the turf; it had the house
and offices, buildings of ordinary height, to
the S. and S.E. distant about twenty yards,
but was in other respects freely exposed.

For the next three years, the observa-
tions were made partly at Plaistow and
partly at Mr. Howard's laboratory at
Stratford, a mile and a half to the N.W.,
on ground nearly of the same elevation.
The thermometer had an open N. W.
exposure, at six feet from the ground,
close to the river Lea.

The latter observations were made at
Tottenham-green, four miles N. of London,
which situation, as the country to the N. W.
especially is somewhat hilly and more
wooded, Mr. Howard considers more
sheltered than the former site; the elevation
of the ground is a trifle greater, and the
thermometer was about ten feet from the
general level of the garden before it, with
a very good exposure N., but not quite
enough detached from the house, having
been affixed to the outer door-case, in a
frame which gave it a little projection,
and admitted the air behind it.

On this day, then, the average of these
twenty years' observations gives

Mean Temperature ... 36-57.

It is, further, proposed to notice certain
astronomical and meteorological pheno-
mena ; the migration and singing of
birds ; the appearance of insects ; the
leafing and flowering of plants ; and other
particulars peculiar to animal, vegetable,
and celestial existences. These observa-
tions will only be given from sources
thouMighly authentic, and the authorities
will be subjoined. Communications for
this department will be gladly received.

Sanuarp 2.

St. Concord.

Is said, by his English biographer Butler,
to have been a sub-deacon in a desert,
martyred at Spoletto, about the year 178 ;
whereto the same biographer adds, " In
the Roman Martyrology his name occurs
on the first, in some others on the second
of January." The infallible Roman church,
to end the discord, rejects the authority
of the " Roman Martyrology," and keeps
the festival of Concord on the second of
January.

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature ... 35 92.

Sfamtarp 3

THE RIDDLE OF THE YEAR,

By Cleobnlus.

There is a father with twice six sons ;
these sons have thirty daughters a-piece,
party-coloured, having one cheek white
and the other black, who never see each
other's face, nor live above twenty-four
hours.

Cleobulus, to whom this riddle is attri-
buted, was one of the seven wise men of
Greece, who lived about 570 years before
the birth of Christ,

Riddles are of the highest antiquity;
the oldest on record is in the book of
Judges xiv. 14 18. We are told by
Plutarch, that the girls of his times worked
at netting or sewing, and the most inge-
nious " made riddles."

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature . . . 35 60.

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK.-JANUARY 4, 5.

Sfanuarp 4.

Prepare for Twelftf^day.
The " Mirror of the Months," a reflector
of " The Months" by Mr. Leigh Hunt,
enlarged to include other objects, adopts,
" Above all other proverbs, that which
says, ' There's nothing like the time pre-
sent/ partly because * the time present '
is but a periphrasis for Now !" The se-
ries of delightful things which Mr. Hunt
links together by the word Now in his
" Indicator," is well remembered, and his
pleasant disciple tells us, " Now, then,
the cloudy canopy of sea-coal smoke that
hangs over London, and crowns her queen
of capitals, floats thick and threefold ; for
fires and feastings are rife, and everybody
is either ' out ' or * at home ' every night.
Now, if a frosty day or two does happen
to pay us a flying visit, on its way to the
North Pole, how the little boys make
slides on the pathways, for lack of ponds,
and, it may be, trip up an occasional
housekeeper just as he steps out of his
own door; who forthwith vows vengeance,
in the shape of ashes, on all the slides in
his neighbourhood, not, doubtless, out of
vexation at his own mishap, and revenge
against the petty perpetrators of it, but
purely to avert the like from others I
Now the bloom-buds of the fruit-trees,
which the late leaves of autumn had con-
cealed from the view, stand confessed,
upon the otherwise bare branches, and,
dressed in their patent wind-and-water-
proof coats, brave the utmost severity of
the season, their hard, unpromising out-
sides, compared with the forms of beauty
which they contain, reminding us of their
friends the butterflies, when in the chry-
salis state. Now the labour of the hus-
bandman is, for once in the year, at a
stand ; and he haunts the alehouse fire,
or lolls listlessly over the half-door of the
village smithy, and watches the progress
of the labour which he unconsciously en-
vies ; tasting for once in his life (without
knowing it) the bitterness of that ennui
which he begrudges to his betters. Now,
melancholy-looking men wander * by
twos and threes' through market-towns,
with their faces as blue as the aprons that
are twisted round their waists ; their in-
effectual rakes resting on their shoulders,
and a withered cabbage hoisted upon a
pole ; and sing out their doleful petition
of ' Pray remember the poor gardeners,
who can get no work !' "

Now, however, not to conclude mourn-
fully, let us remember that the officers
and some of the principal inhabitants of
most parishes in London, preceded by
their beadle in the full majesty of a full
great coat and gold laced hat, with his
walking staff of state higher than him-
self, and headed by a goodly polished
silver globe, go forth from the vestry
room, and call on every chief parishioner
for a voluntary contribution towards a
provision for cheering the abode of the
needy at this cheerful season : and now
the unfeeling and mercenary urge " false
pretences" upon " public grounds," with
the vain hope of concealing their private
reasons for refusing " public charity :"
and notv, the upright and kind-hearted
welcome the annual call, and dispense
bountifully. Their prosperity is a blessing.
Each scattereth and yet increaseth ; their
pillows are pillows of peace ; and at the
appointed time, they lie down with their
fathers, and sleep the sleep of just men
made perfect, in everlasting rest.

NATURALISTS CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature ... 36- 42.

TWELFTH-DAY EVE.

Agricultural Custom.
In the parish of Pauntley, a village on
the borders of the county of Gloucester,
next Worcestershire, and in the neigh-
bourhood, " a custom, intended to pre-
vent the smut in wheat, in some respect
resembling the Scotch Beltein, prevails."
" On the eve of Twelfth-day all the ser-
vants of every farmer assemble together
in one of the fields that has been sown
with wheat. At the end of twelve lands,
they make twelve fires in a row with
straw ; around one of which, made larger
than the rest, they drink a cheerful glass
of cyder to their master's health, and suc-
cess to the future harvest ; then, returning
home, they feast on cakes made of cara-
ways, &c. soaked in cyder, which they
claim as a reward for their past labours in
sowing the grain.''*

Credulity and Incredulity.
In the beginning of the year 1825, the
flimsiest bubbles of the most bungling

* Rudge's Gloucester.

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. DECEMBER 5.

projectors obtained the public confidence;
at the close of the year that confidence
was refused to firms and establishments
of unquestionable security. Just before
Christmas, from sudden demands greatly
beyond the amounts which were ready
for ordinary supply, bankers in London
of known respectability stopped pay-
ment ; the panic became general through-
out the kingdom, and numerous country
banks failed, the funds fell, Exchequer
bills were at a heavy discount, and public
securities of every description suffered
material depression. This exigency ren-
dered prudence still more circumspect,
and materially retarded the operations
of legitimate business, to the injury of all
persons engaged in trade. In several
manufacturing districts, transactions of
every kind were suspended, and manu-
factories wholly ceased from work.

EXCHEQUER BILLS.

To the Editor of the Every-Day Book.

Sir, ,

As just at this time it may be interest-
ing to many of your readers, to know the
origin of Exchequer bills; I send you the
following account

In the years 1696 and 1697, the silver
currency of the kingdom being, by clip-

Sing, washing, grinding, filing, &c. re-
uced to about half its nominal value,
acts of parliament were passed for its
being called in, and re-coined ; but
whilst the re-coinage was going on ex-
chequer bills were first issued, to supply
the demands of trade. The quantity of
silver re-coined, according to D'Avenant,
from the old hammered money, amount-
ed to 5,725,933^. It is worthy of remark,
that through the difficulties experienced
by the Bank of England (which had been
established only three years,) during the
re-coinage, they having taken the clipped
silver at its nominal value, and guineas
at an advanced price, bank notes were in
1697 at a discount of from 15 to 20 per
cent. "During the re-coinage," says

treasure, which the war and our losses at
sea had drawn out of the nation."

I am, &c.
J. G.

THE CHRISTMAS DAYS.
A Family Sketch.

Bring me a garland of holly,

Rosemary, ivy, and bays ;
Gravity's nothing but folly,

Till after the Christmas day

Fill out a glass of Bucellas ;

Here ! boys put the crown on my

head :

Now, boys ! shake hands be good fel-
lows,
And all be good men when I'm dead.

Come, girls, come ! now for your kisses.

Hearty ones louder loud louder '
How Fm surrounded with blisses !

Proud men may here see a prouder.

Now, you rogues, go kiss your mother :
Ah ! ah ! she won't let you ? pho !

pho !
Gently there, there now ! don't smo

ther :
Old lady ! come, now I'll kiss you.

Here take the garland, and wear it ;

' Nay, nay ! ' but you must, and you

shall ;
For, here's suck a kiss! come, don't fear it;

If you do turn round to the wall.

A kiss too for Number Eleven,

The Newcome the young Christmas

berry

My Alice ! who makes my girls seven,
And makes merry Christmas more
merry.

Another good glass of Bucellas,
While I've the crown on my head ;

Laugh on my good girls, and good fel-
lows,
Till it's off then off to bed.

D'Avenant, "all great dealings were
transacted by tallies, bank-bills, and gold-
smiths' notes. Paper credit did not only
supply the place of running cash, but December 30, 1825.
greatly multiplied the kingdom's stock ;
for tallies and bank-bills did to many
uses serve as well, and to some better than
gold and silver ; and this artificial wealth
which necessity had introduced, did
make us less feel the want of that real

Hey ! now, for the Christmas holly,

Rosemary, ivy, and bays ;
Gravity's nothing but folly,

Till after the Christmas days.

NATURALISTS CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature. . . 37 47.

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. JA NUAKY 6.

;v\

The bean found out, and monarch crown d,
He dubs a fool, and sends him round,
To raise the frolic when it's low
Himself commands the wine to flow.
Each watches for the king to quaff,
When, all at once, up springs the laugh ;
They cry " The king drinks !" and away
They shout a long and loud huzza!
And when it's ended conies the dance,
And thus is Twelfth-night spent in France.

Sanuarp 6.

Epiphany. Old Chrtstmas-dav.
Holiday at the Public-offices.

TWELFTH-DAY.

It is only in certain rural parts of
France that the merriments represented
above still prevail. The engraving is
from an old print, " I. Marriette ex."
inscribed as in the next column.

" L'HlVER.

Les Divertissements du Roi-boit.

Loin dicy mille soins facheux,
Que porte avec soy la coronne ;
Celle qua table Bacrhus donne
Ne fit Jamais de malheureux."

This print may be regarded a faithful
picture of the almost obsolete usage.

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. JANUARY 6.

During the holidays, and especially on
Twelfth-night, school-boys dismiss " the
cares and the fears" of academic rule ; or
they are regarded but as a passing cloud,
intercepting only for an instant the sun-
shine of joy wherewith their sports are
brightened. Gerund-grinding and pars-
ing are usually prepared for at the last

moment, until when " the master's chair"
is only u remembered to be forgotten."
There is entire suspension of the autho-
rity of that class, by whom the name of
" Busby" is venerated, till " Black Mon-
day" arrives, and chaises and stages con-
vey the young Christmas-keepers to the
" seat of government."

n. 54.

29n

Him ! sui generis, alone,

Busby ! the great substantive noun !

Whose look was lightning, and whose word

Was thunder to the boys who heard,

Is, as regards his long vocation,

Pictured by this his great location.

Look on it well, boys, and digest

The symbols ! learn and shun the rest !

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. JANUARY 6.

The name of Busby '.not the musical
d octor,but a late magisterial doctor of West-
minster school celebrated for severe dis-
cipline, is a "word of fear" to all living
who know his fame ! It is perpetuated
by an engraved representation of his

morning, fell asleep in his memento ; and
when he awoke, added, with aloud voice,
The king drinketh." This mal-apropos
exclamation must have proceeded from a
foreign ecclesiastic : we have no account
of the ceremony to which it refers having

chairTsaYd^oTaVbeen designed by sir prevailed in merry England.

Peter Lily, and presented by that artist

to king Charles II. The arms, and each

arm, are appalling ; and the import of the

otherdevices are, or ought to be, known by

every tyro. Every prudent person lays

in stores before they are wanted, and Dr.

Busby's chair may as well be " in the

house" on Twelfth-day as on any other ;

not as a mirth-spoiler, but as a subject

which we know to-day that we have " by

us," whereon to inquire and discuss at ~

An excellent pen-and-ink picture of
"Merry England"* represents honest
old Froissart, the French chronicler, as
saying of some English in his time, that
" they amused themselves sadly after the
the fashion of their country ;" Hprpnn tho

more convenient season. Dr. Busby was
a severe, but not an ill-natured man. It
is related of him and one of his scholars,
that during the doctor's absence from his
study, the boy found some plums ^ in it,

whereon the

portrayer of Merry England observes,
" They have indeed a way of their own.
Their mirth is a relaxation from gravity,
a challenge to ' Dull Care' to ' be gone ;'
and one is not always clear at first, whe-
ther the appeal is successful. The cloud
may still hang on the brow ; the ice may
not thaw at once. To help them out in
their new character is an act of charity.

and being moved by lickerishness, began Any thing short of hanging or drowning
to eat some ; first, however, he waggishly ig sometn i n g to begin with. They do not
cried out, I publish the banns of matn- enter into their amu sements the less
mony between my mouth and these Doggedly because they may plague others,
plums; if any here present know just They like a thing the better for hitting
cause or impediment why they should not them ft Qn the k nuc kies, for making their
be united, you are to declare it, or here-
after hold your peace ;" and then he ate.
But the doctor had overheard the procla-
mation, and said nothing till the next
morning, when causing the boy to be
" brought up," and disposed for punish-

blood tingle. They do not dance or
sing, but they make good cheer ' eat,
drink, and are merry. 7 No people are
fonder of field-sports, Christmas gambols,
1 or practical jests. Blindman's - buff,
hunt-the-slipper, hot-cockles, and snap-

ment, he grasped the well-known instru-
ment, and said, " I publish the banns of
matrimony between this rod and this boy:
if any of you know just cause or impedi- ......... ____________

ment why they should not be united, you pi ura -p U{ J(iing, the spiced ale and roasted
" -

dragon, are all approved English games,

publish the banns ot ^^ Q f i au gh a ble surprises and ' hair-
breadth 'scapes/ and serve to amuse the
winter fireside after the roast beef and

are to declare it." The boy himself call- cra ^ thrown (hissing-hot) into the foam-

ed out, "I forbid the banns!" "For i ng tankard. Punch (not the liquor, but

what cause ?" inquired the doctor. " Be- tne p u pp e t) is not, I fear, of English ori-

cause," said the boy, the parties are not gin . but there j s no p i ac e, I take it, where

agreed !" The doctor enjoyed the vali- he finds himself more at home or meets a

dity of the objection urged by the boy s more ; oyous welcome, where he collects
wit, and the ceremony was not performed.
This is an instance of Dr. Busby's admi-

ration of talent : and let us hope, in be-
half of its seasonableness here, that it was
at Christmas time.

The King drinks.

We recur once more to this subject, for
the sake of remarking that there is an ac-
count of a certain curate, '' who having
taken his preparations over evening, when
all men cry (as the manner is) The king
Jrinketh, chanting his masse the next

greater crowds at the corners of streets,
where he opens the eyes or distends the
cheeks wider, or where the bangs and

blows, the uncouth gestures, ridiculous
anger and screaming voice of the chief
performer excite more boundless merri-
ment or louder bursts of laughter among
all ranks and sorts of people. An Eng-
lish theatre is the very throne of panto-
mime ; nor do I believe that the gallery
and boxes of Drury-lane or Covent-gar

* Tr, the New Monthly Magazine, Dec. 1825

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. JANUARY 6.

den filled on the proper occasions with
holiday folks (big or little) yield the palm
for undisguised, tumultuous, inextinguish-
able laughter to any spot in Europe. I
do not speak of the refinement of the
mirth (this is no fastidious speculation)
but of its cordiality, on the return of these
long-looked-for and licensed periods ; and
I may add here, by way of illustration,
that the English common people are a
sort of grown children, spoiled and sulky,
perhaps, but full of glee and merriment,
when their attention is drawn off by some
sudden and striking object.

" The comfort, on which the English lay
so much stress, arises from the same
source as their mirth. Both exist by con-
trast and a sort of contradiction. The
English are certainly the most uncomfort-
able of all people in themselves, and
therefore it is that they stand in need of
every kind of comfort and accommoda-
tion. The least thing puts them out of
their w<ty, and therefore every thing must
be in its place. They are mightily of-
fended at disagreeable tastes and smells,
and therefore they exact the utmost neat-
ness and nicety. They are sensible of
heat and cold, and therefore they cannot
exist, unless every thing is snug and
warm, or else open and airy, where they
are. They must have all appliances
and means to boot.' They are afraid of
interruption and intrusion, and therefore
they shut themselves up in m-door enjoy-
ments and by their own firesides. It is
not that they require luxuries (for that
implies a high degree of epicurean indulg-
ence and gratification,) but they cannot
do without their comforts ; that is, what-
ever tends to supply their physical wants,
and ward oif physical pain and annoy-
ance. As they have not a fund of ani-
mal spirits and enjoyments in themselves,
they cling to external objects for support,
and derive solid satisfaction from the ideas
of order, cleanliness, plenty, property,
and domestic quiet, as they seek for di-
version from odd accidents and grotesque
surprises, and have the highest possible
relish not of voluptuous softness, but of
hard knocks and dry blows, as one means
of ascertaining their personal identity."

Twelfth-day, in the times of chivalry,
was observed at the court of England by
grand entertainments and tournaments.
The justings were continued till a period
little favourable to such sports.

In the reign of James I., when his son

prince Henry was in the 16th year of his
age, and therefore arrived to the period
for claiming the principality of Wales and
the duchy of Cornwall, it was granted to
him by the king and the high court of
parliament, and the 4th of June following-
appointed for his investiture : "the Christ-
mas before which," sir Charles Cornwallis
says, " his highnesse, not onely for his
owne recreation, but also that the world
might know what a brave prince they
were likely to enjoy, under the name of
Meliades, lord of the isles, (an ancient
title due to the first-borne of Scotland,)
did, in his name, by some appointed for
the same purpose, strangely attired, ac-
companied with drummes and trumpets,
in the presence, before the king and
queene, and in the presence of the whole
court, deliver a challenge to all knights of
Great Britaine." The challenge was to
this effect, " That Meliades, their noble
master, burning with an earnest desire to
trie the valour of his young yeares in
foraigne countryes, and to know where
vertue triumphed most, had sent them
abroad to espy the same, who, after their
long travailes in all countreyes, and re-
turne," had nowhere discovered it, " save
in the fortunate isle of Great Britaine :
which ministrincr matter of exceeding joy
to their young Meliades, who 'as they
said) could lineally derive his pedegre'e
from the famous knights of this isle, was
the cause that he had now sent to present
the first frurts of his chivalrie at his ma-
jesties' feete ; then after returning with a
short speech to her majestic, next to the
earles, lords, and knights, excusing their
lord in this their so sudden and shoi>
warning, and lastly, to the ladies ; they,
after humble delivery of their chartle con-
cerning time, place, conditions, number
of weapons and assailants, tooke their
leave, departing solemnly as they entered."
Then preparations brgan to be made
for this great fight, and each, was happy
who found himself admitted for a defend-
ant, much more an assailant. " At last
to encounter his highness, six assailants,
and fifty-eight defendants, consisting of
earles, barons, knights, and esquires, were
appointed and chosen ; eight defendants
to one assailant, every assailant being to
fight by turnes eight severall times fight-
ing, two every time with push and pike
of sword, twelve strokes at a time ; after
which, the barre for separation was to be
let downe until a fresh onset." The sum-
mons ran in these words :

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. JANUARY 6.

" To our verie loving good ffreind sir

Gilbert Houghton, knight, gea^e theis

with speed :

" After our hartie commendacions unto
you. The prince, his highnes, hath
comanded us tosignifie to you that whereas
he doth intend to make a challenge in his
owne person at the Barriers, with sixe
other assistants, to bee performed some
tyme this Christmas; and that he hath
made choice of you for one of the defend-
ants (whereof wee have comandement to
give you knowledge), that theruppon you
may so repaire hither to prepare yourselfe,
as you may bee fitt to attend him. Here-
unto expecting your speedie answer wee
rest, from Whitehall this 25th of Decem-
ber, 1609. Your very loving freindes,
Notingham. | T.Suffolke. '| E.Worcester."

On New-year's Day, 1610, or the day
after, the prince's challenge was pro-
claimed at court, and " his highnesse, in
his own lodging, in the Christmas, did
feast the carles, barons, and knights, as-
sailants and defendants, untill the great
Twelfth appointed night, on which this
great fight was to be performed."

On the 6th of January, in the evening,
" the barriers" were held at the palace of
Whitehall, in the presence of the king and
queen, the ambassadors of Spain and
Venice, and the peers and ladies of the
land, with a multitude of others assembled
in the "banqueting-house : at the upper
end whereof was the king's chair of state,
and on the right hand a sumptuous pa-
vilion for the prince and his associates,
from whence, " with great bravery and
ingenious devices, they descended into
the middell of the roome, and there the
prince performed his first feats of armes,
that is to say, at Barriers, against all
conimers, being assisted onlie with six
others, viz. the duke of Lenox, the earle
of Arundell, the earle of Southampton,
the lord Hay, sir Thomas Somerset, and
sir Richard Preston, who was shortly after
created lord Ding well."

To answer these challengers came fifty-
six earles, barons, knights, and esquiers.
They were at the lower end of the roome,
where was erected " a very delicat and
pleasant place, where in privat manner
they and their traine remained, which
was so very great that no man imagined
that the place could have concealed halfe
so many. From thence they issued, in
comely order, to the middell of the roome,
where sate the king and the queene, and
the court, " to behold the barriers, with

the several showes and devices of each
combatant." Every challenger fought
with eight several defendants two several
combats at two several weapons, viz. at
push of pike, and with single sword,
" The prince performed this challenge with
wonderous skill and courage, to the great
joy and admiration of the beholders," he
" not being full sixteene yeeres of age
untill the 19th of February." These feats,
and other " triumphant shewes," began
before ten o'clock at night, and continued
until three o'clock the next morning,
" being Sonday." The speeches at " the
barriers" were written by Ben Jonson.
The next day (Sunday) the prince rode in
great pomp to convoy the king to St James*,
whither he had invited him and all the
court to supper, whereof the queen alone
was absent ; and then the prince bestowed
prizes to the three combatants best de-
serving ; namely, the earl of Montgomery,
sir Thomas Darey (son to lord Darey),
and sir Robert Gourdon.* In this way
the court spent Twelfth-night in 1610.

On Twelfth-night, 1753, George II.
played at hazard for the benefit of the
groom porter. All the royal family who
played were winners, particularly the
duke of York, who won 3000/. The
most considerable losers were the duke
of Grafton, the marquis of Hartington,
the earl of Holderness, earl of Ashburn-
ham, and the earl of Hertford. The prince
of Wales (father of George III.) with
prince Edward and a select company,
danced in the little drawing room till
eleven o'clock, and then withdrew.-)-

Old Christmas-day.

According to the alteration of the
style, OLD Christmas-day falls on
Twelfth-day, and in distant parts is even
kept in our time as the festival of the na-
tivity. In 1753, Old Christmas-day was
observed in the neighbourhood of Wor-
cester by the Anti-Gregorians, full as
sociably, if not so religiously, as formerly
In several villages, the parishioners so
strongly insisted upon having an Old-
style nativity sermon, as they term it,
that their ministers could not well avoid
preaching to them : and, at some towns,
where the markets are held on Friday,
not a butter basket, nor even a Goose,
was to be seen in the market-place the
whole day.|

* Mr. Nichols's Progresses of James I.

t- Gentleman'* Magazine. t Ibid.

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. JANUARY 7.

To heighten the festivities of Christmas,
1825. the good folks of" London and its
environs" were invited to Sadler's Wells,
by the following whimsical notice, printed
and distributed as a handbill

< SOVEREIGNS WILL BETAKEN,

during the Christmas holidays, and as long
as any body will bring them to SADLER'S
WELLS ; nay so little fastidious are the
Proprietors of that delectable fascinating
snuggery, that, however incredible it may
appear, they, in some cases, have actually
had the liberality to prefer Gold to Paper.
Without attempting to investigate their
motives for such extraordinary conduct,
we shall do them the justice to say, they
certainly give an amazing quantum o
amusement, All in One Night, at the
HOUSE ON THE HEATH, where, be-
sides the THREE CRUMPIES, AND
THE BARON AND HIS BROTHERS,
an immense number of fashionables are
expected on MERLIN'S MOUNT, and
some of the first Cambrian families will
countenanceHARLEQUIN CYMRAEG,
in hopes to partake of the Living Leek,
which being served up the last thing be-
fore supper, will constitute a most excel-
lent Christmas carminative, preventing
the effects of night air on the crowds who
will adorn this darling little edifice. In
addition to a most effective LIGHT COM-
PANY engaged here, a very respectably
sized Moon will be in attendance to light
home a greater number of Patrons than
ever this popular petted Palace of Panto-
mime is likely to produce. We say no-
thing of warmth and comfort, acquired by
recent improvements, because these mat-
ters will soon be subjects of common con-
versation, and omit noticing the happi-
ness of Half-price, and the cheering qua-
lities of the Wine-room, fearful of wound-
ing in the bosom of the Manager that
innate modesty which is ever the conco-
mitant of merit ; we shall therefore con-
clude, by way of invitation to the dubi-
ous, in the language of an elegant writer,
by asserting that the Proof of the Pud-
ding it in VERBUM SAT."

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature- - - 37 12.

Sanuarg 7.

1826. Distaff's Day*

STANZAS ON THE NEW YEAR.

I stood between the meeting years,

The coming and the past,
And I ask'd of the future one,

Wilt thou be like the last ?

The same in many a sleepless night.

In many an anxious day ?
Thank Heaven ! I have no prophet's eye

To look upon thy way !

For Sorrow like a phantom sits

Upon the last Year's close.
How much of grief, how much of ill,

In its dark breast repose I

Shadows of faded Hopes flit by,

And ghosts of Pleasures fled :
How have they chang'd from what they
were !

Cold, colourless, and dead.

I think on many a wasted hour,

And sicken o'er the void ;
And many darker are behind,

On worse than nought employ'd.

Oh Vanity ! alas, my heart !

How widely hast thou stray d
And misused every golden gift

For better purpose made '

I think on many a once-loved friend

As nothing to me now ;
And what can mark the lapse of time

As does an alter'd brow ?

Perhaps 'twas but a careless word
That sever'd Friendship's chain ;

And angry Pride stands by each gap,
Lest they unite again.

Less sad, albeit more terrible,

To think upon the dead,
Who quiet in the lonely grave

Lay down their weary head.

For faith and hope, and peace, and trust,

Are with their happier lot :
Though broken is their bond of love,

At least we broke it not.

Thus thinking of the meeting years,

The coming and the past,
I needs must ask the future one,

Wilt thou be like the last ?

* See vol. i. p. 1

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. JANUARY 8.

There came a sound, but not of speech,

That to my thought replied,
" Misery is the marriage-gift

That waits a mortal bride :

' But lift thine hopes from this base earth,

This waste of worldly care,
And wed thy faith to yon bright sky,

For Happiness dwells there !"

L. E. L *

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature ... 35 85.

Sanuarp 8,

1826. First Sunday after Epiphany.
CHRONOLOGY.

Ou the 8th of January, 1753, died sir
Thomas Burnet, one of the judges of the
court of Common Pleas, of the gout in
his stomach, at his house in Lincoln's-inn
fields. He was the eldest son of the cele-
brated Dr, Gilbert Burnet, bishop of
Salisbury ; was several years consul at
Lisbon; and in November, 1741, made
one of the judges of the Common Pleas,
in room of judge Fortescue, who was ap-
pointed master of the rolls. On No-
vember 23, 1745, when the lord chancellor,
judges, and association of the gentlemen
of the law, waited on his majesty with
their address, on occasion of the rebellion,
he was knighted. He was an able and up-
right judge, and a great benefactor to the
poor.f

THE NEW YEAR NEW MOON

To the Editor of the Every-Day Book.

Sir,

Encouraged by your various expres-
sions of willingness to receive notices of
customs not already " imprinted" in your
first volume, I take the liberty of pre-
senting the first of several which I have
not yet seen in print.

I am, sir,

Your constant reader,
Chelsea. J. Q. W.

* New Monthly Magazine, January, 1826.
t Gentleman's Magazine.

MONEY AND THE MOON.

Gentle reader,

If thou art not over-much prejudiced
by the advances of modernization, (I like
a long new-coined word,) so that, even in
these " latter days," thou dost not hesi-
tate to place explicit reliance on ancient,
yet infallible " sayings and doings/' (an-
cient enough, since they have been handed
down to us by our grandmothers and who
would doubt the weight and authority of
so many years ? and infallible enough,
since they themselves absolutely believed
in their " quite-correctness,") I will tell thee
a secret well worth knowing, if that can
be called a secret which arises out of a
well-known and almost universal custom,
at least, in " days of yore." It is neither
more nor less than the possession through-
out " the rolling year" of a pocket never
without money. Is not this indeed a
secret well worth knowing ? Yet the
means of its accomplishment are exceed-
ingly simple (as all difficult things are
when once known.) On the first day of
the first new moon of the new year, or so
soon afterwards as you observe it, all that
you have to do is this : on the first
glance you take at " pale Luna's silvery
crest" in the western sky, put your hand
in your pocket, shut your eyes, and turn
the smallest piece of silver coin you pos-
sess upside down in your said pocket.
This will ensure you (if you will but trust
its infallibility!) throughout the whole
year that " summum bonum " of earthly
wishes, a pocket never empty. If, how-
ever, you neglect, on the first appearance
of the moon, your case is hopeless ; never-
theless and notwithstanding, at a future
new moon you may pursue the same
course, and it will be sure to hold good
during the then current month, but not a
" whit" longer.

This mention of the new moon and its
crest brings to mind a few verses I wrote
some time ago, and having searched my
scrap-book, (undoubtedly not such a one
as Geoffery Crayon's,} I copied them from
thence, and they are heie under. Although
written in the " merry merry month
of May," they may be read in the " dreary
dark December," for every new moon
presents the same beautiful phenomenon.

A Simile.

Hast thou ne'er marked, when first the crescent moon

Shines faintly in the western horizon,

O'er her whole orb a slight soft blush o'erspread,

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. JANUARY 9.

As though she were abashed to be thus seen

From the sun's couch with silver steps retreating ?

Hast thou ne'er marked, that when by slow degrees,

Night after night, her crescent shape is lost,

And steadily she gains her stores of light,

Till half her form resplendently proclaims

An envious rival to the stars around

Then mark'st thou not, that nought of her sweet blush

Remains to please the gazer's wistful sight,

And that she shines increasingly in strength,

Till she is fulLorb'd, mistress of the sky?

So is it with the mind, when silently

Into the young heart's void steals timorous love.

Then enter with it fancy's fairy dreams,

Visions of glory, reveries of bliss ;

And then they come and go, till comes, alas !

Knowledge, forced on us, of the " world without !"

How soon these scenes of beauty disappear !

How soon fond thought sinks into nothingness !

How soon the mind discovers that true bliss

Reposes not on sublunary things,

But is alone when passion's blaze is o'er

In that high happy sphere, where love's supreme.

Here it may not be out of place to en-
deavour to describe, as familiarly as pos-
sible, the cause of the lunar appearance.

justices at Westminster-hall, for personat-
ing various characters and names, and
defrauding numbers of people, in order to

Hold a piece of looking-glass in a ray of support his extravagance. It appeared

sunshine, and then move a small ball
through the reflected ray : it is easy to
conceive that both sides will be illumined ;
that side towards the sun by the direct
sunbeam, and the side towards the mirror,
though less powerfully, by the reflected
sunbeam. In a somewhat similar manner,
the earth supplies the place of the mirror,
and as at every new moon, and for several
days after the moon is in that part of her
orbit between the earth and the sun, the
rays of the sun are reflected from the
earth to the dark side of the moon, and
consequently to the inhabitants of that
part of the moon, (if any such there be,
and query why should there not be such ?)
the earth must present the curious appear-
ance of a full moon of many times the
diameter which ours presents.

J. O. W.

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature . . <. 36 05.

Sanuarp 9.

1826. Plough Monday.
The first Monday after Twelfth day.*

by the evidence, that he had cheated a
tailor of a suit of velvet clothes, trimmed
with gold; a jeweller of upwards of 100/.
in rings and watches, which he pawned ;
a coachmaker of a chaise ; a carver and
cabinet-maker of household goods ; a
hosier, hatter, and shoemaker, and, in
short, some of almost every other business,
to the amount of a large sum. He some-
times appeared like a gentleman attended
with livery servants ; sometimes as a no-
bleman's steward ; and, in the summer
time, he travelled the west of England, in
the character of Doctor Rock ; and, at the
same time, wrote to London for goods, in
the names of the Rev. Laroche, and the
Rev. Thomas Strickland. The evidence
was full against him ; notwithstanding
which, he made a long speech in his own
defence. He was sentenced to six months'
hard labour in Bridewell, and, within that
time, to be six times publicly whipped.

Such offences are familiar to tradesmen
of the present times, through many perpe-
trators of the like stamp ; but all of them
are not of the same audacity as Stroud,
who, in the month following his convic-
tion, wrote and published his life, wherein
he gives a very extraordinary account of

CHRONOLOGY. - .

On the 9th of January, 1752, William hls adventures, but passes slightly over

Stroud was tried before the bench o or palliates his blackest crimes "

_ bred a haberdasher of small

* See vol. i. p. 7 . Fleet-

He was
wares in
feet, married his mistress's sister

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. JANUARY 10.

before his apprenticeship determined, set
up in the Poultry, became a bankrupt, in
three months got his certificate signed,
and again set up in Holborn , where he
lived but a little while before he was
thrown into the King's Bench for debt,
and there got acquainted with one Play-
stowe, who gradually led him into scenes
of fraud, which he afterwards imitated.
Playstowe being a handsome man, usually
passed for a gentleman, and Stroud for
his steward ; at last the former, after many
adventures, married a girl with 4000/.,
flew to France, and left Stroud in the
lurch, who then retired to Yorkshire, and
lived some time with his aunt, pretending
his wife was dead, and he was just on the
brink of marrying advantageously, when
his real character was traced. He then
went to Ireland, passed for a man of
fashion, hired an equipage, made the most
of that country, and escaped to London.
His next grand expedition was to the
west of England, where he still personated
the man of fortune, got acquainted with a
young lady, and pursued her to London,
where justice overtook him ; and, instead
of wedlock, bound him in the fetters of
Bridewell.

On the 24th of June, 1752, Stroud re-
ceived " his last and severest whipping,

from the White Bear to St. James's church
Piccadilly."*

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature . . . 36-12.

Sannarp 10.

Winter in London.

On the 10th of January, 1812, it is
observed, that London was this day in-
volved, for several hours, in palpable
darkness. The shops, offices, &c., were
necessarily lighted up ; but, the streets not
being lighted as at night, it required nc
small care in the passenger to find his
way, and avoid accidents. The sky
where any light pervaded it, showed the
aspect of bronze. Such is, occasionally,
the effect of the accumulation of smoke
between two opposite gentle currents, or
by means of a misty calm. The fuliginous
cloud was visible, in this instance, from a
distance of forty miles. Were it not for
the extreme mobility of our atmosphere,
this volcano of a hundred thousand mouths
would, in winter, be scarcely habitable !f

* Gentleman's Magazine,
t Howard on Climate,

Winter in the Country.

All out door work

Now stands ; the waggoner, with wisp-wound feet,
And wheelspokes almost filled, his destined stage
Scarcely can gain. O'er hill, and vale, and wood,
Sweeps the snow-pinioned blast, and all things veils
In white array, disguising to the view
Objects well known, now faintly recognised.
One colour clothes the mountain and the plain,
Save where the feathery flakes melt as they fall
Upon the deep blue stream, or scowling lake,
Or where some beetling rock o'erjutting hangs
Above the vaulty precipice's cove.
Formless, the pointed cairn now scarce o'ertops
The level dreary waste ; and coppice woods,
Diminished of their height, like bushes seem.
With stooping heads, turned from the storm, the flocks
Onward still urged by man and dog-, escape
The smothering drift ; while, skulking at a side,
Is seen the fox, with close downfolded tail,
Watching his time to seize a straggling prey j
Or from some lofty crag he ominous howls,
And makes approaching night more dismal aM.

Grahamc.

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK JANUARY 10.

in fyt C&arartfr of JHr. ifeton.

" Just popp'd in, you know !"

LETTER

from
PA U L PRY.

To the Editor of the Every-Day Book.
Sir,

I hope I don't intrude I have
called at Lud gate-hill a great many
times to see you, and made many kind
inquiries, but I am always informed you
are " not at home ;" and what's worse, I
never can learn when you'll be " at home ;"
I'm constantly told, " it's very uncertain."
This looks very odd; I don't think it
correct. Then again, on asking your
people what the Every-Day Book is all
about ? they say it's about every thing ;
but that you know is no answer is it ?
I want something more than that. When
I tell 'em so, and that I'm so much en-
gaged I haven't time to read, they say the
book is as useful to people engaged in
business as to people out of business as

if / was in business ! I wish to acquaint
every body, that I am not in business, and
never was in business, though I've a dea
of business to do; but then it's for my
own amusement, and that's nobody's
business, you know as I also told 'em.
They say it's impossible to describe the
contents of the book, but that all the par-
ticulars are in the Index ; that's just what
I wanted ; but behold ! it is " not out"
that is, it is not in I mean not in the
book you take. Excuse my humorsome-
ness : I only wish to know when I can
get it ? They say in a few days, but, bless
you, I don't believe 'em ; for though I let
'em know I've a world of things to com-
municate to you, when you've time to sec
me, and let me ask you a few questions,
they won't credit me, and why should I
credit them I was not born yesterday,
I assure you. I'm of a very ancient
stock, and I've some notion you and I
are kinsmen don't you think we are ?
I dare say there's a likeness, for I'm sure

51 THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. JANUARY 10. 52

we are of the same disposition ; if you again, I'll be Liston ! They shall be

aren't, how can you find out so much matched, however, if you'll help me. I've

" about every thing." If I can make out copied out my song, and if you'll print it

that you are one of the Pry family, it will in the Every-Day Book, it will drive 'em

be mutually agreeable won't it ? How mad. I wish, of all things, that Mr.

people will stare won't they? Cruikshank could see me in the charactei

I suppose you've heard how I've been of Liston he could hit me I know don't

used by Mr. Lislon my private charac- you think he could ? just as I am

ter exposed on the public stage, and the "quite correct" like he did "Guy Faux"

whole town roaring at the whole of the last 5th of November. I never laughed

Pry family. But we are neither to be so much in all my life as when I saw that.

cried down nor laughed down, and so I'd Bless you, I can mimic Liston all to

have let the play -goers know,if the managers nothing. Do get your friend George to

had allowed me to sing a song on New- your house some day any day he likes

year's night, in imitation of Mr. Liston it's all one to me, for I call every day ;

when he's a playing me. Will you be- and as I'm an " every-day" man, you

lieve it they burst out a laughing, and know, why you might pop me at the head

would not let me go on the boards they of the song in your Every-Day Book

said the audience would suppose me to be that's a joke you know I can't help

the actor himself; what harm would that laughing so droll ! I've enclosed the

have done the theatre? can you tell? song, you see.
They said, it would hurt Mr. Liston's

feelings never Considering mv feelings ! [The wish of this correspondent is complied with,
It r . , ,, .,f . .1 c and the manner wherein, it is presumed, he would

Jt ever 1 try to Serve them Or their theatre have sung the song, is hinted at parenthetically.]

MR. PAUL FRY'S SONG,

Intended to have been sung by him at the Theatre,
In the Character of MR. LISTON,

ON NEW YEAR'S EVE.

TUNE Mr. Liston's.

(Pryingly} I hope I don't intrude !
{Fearfully.') I thought I heard a cough
(Apologetically.} I hope I am not rude
( Confidentially.} I say the Year's going off !

(Inquisitively.} Where can he be going to ?
(Ruminatively} It's very odd ! it's serious !
(Self -satisf actively} I'm rather knowing too !
(Insinuatively.} But isn't it mysterious ?

(Comfortably.} J Twas better than the other
(Informingly.} The one that went before ;
(Consolingly.} But then there'll be another
( Delightedly} And that's one comfort more !

(Alarmedly} I'm half afraid he's gone I
(Kindlily.} Must part with the old fellow !
(Hastily.} Excuse me I must run (Exit.}
(Returns.} Forgot my umbrella.

(Determinedly} I'll watch the new one though,
(Circumspectly.} And see what he'll be at (Exit.}
(Returns.} Beg pardon didn't bow (Bows and exit,}
'Returns.} Bid pardon left my hat

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. JANUARY 11.

(Lingeringfy.) It's always the wish of Paul,
(Seriously.) To be quite correct and right
(Respectfully.} Ladies and gentlemen all
(Retreatingly.) I wish you very good night !

(Recollectlvely.) And ladies and gentlemen all !
(Inter jectively.} You laugh so much, I declare
(Vexedly.} I'm not Mr. Listen ! I'm Paul /
(Lastly.) I wish you a happy New Year \(Exit finally :

If you print this in the Every-Day
Book it will send Listen into fits it will
kill him won't it ? But you know that's
all right if he takes me off I've a right
to take him off haven't I ? I say, that's
another joke isn't it? Bless you, I
co'd do as good as that for ever. But I
want to see you, and ask you how you go
on ? and I've lots of intelligence for you
such things as never were known in
this world all true, and on the very best
authority, you may take my word for it.
Several of my relations have sent you
budgets. Though they know you won't
publish their names unless they like it,
they don't choose to sign 'em to
their letters for private reasons, why
don't you print 'em ? They cann't give up
their authors you know, (that's impossi-
ble,) but what does that signify ? And
then you give 'em so much trouble to call
and make inquiries not that they care
about that, but it looks so. However, I'm
in a great hurry and so you'll excuse me.
Mind though I shall pop in every day
till I catch you. I hope you'll print the
song it's all my own writing, it will do
for Listen, depend on it. What a joke
isn't it a good one ?

Pryory Place, Yours eternally,
January 6, 1826. PAUL PRY.

P. S. Don't forget the Index I want
to learn all the particulars multum in
parvo all quite correct.

P. S. I'm told you've eleven children
is it true ? What day shall you have an-
other ?
would
don't
curious.

t true : w nat day snail you nave an-
er ? _ to-day ? Twelfthrfay 1 that
uld be zjoke wouldn't it? I hope I
i't intrude. I don't wish to seem

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature ... 36 07.

Sfanuarp n.

Feast Week.

This is a term in many parts of Eng-
and for an annual festivity celebrated on

the occasion described in the subjoined
communication.

For the Every-Day Book.

THE FEAST WEEK.

This festival, so called, is supposed to
be nearly coeval with the establishment
of Christianity in this island. Every
new church that was founded was dedi-
cated to some peculiar saint, and was
naturally followed by a public religious
celebration, generally on the day of that
saint, or on the Sunday immediately fol-
lowing. Whatever might be the origin,
the festival part is still observed in most
of the villages of several of the midland
and other counties. It is a season much
to be remembered, and is anticipated
with no little pleasure by the expecting
villagers. The joyful note of preparation
is given during the preceding week ; and
the clash, and splash, and bustle of
cleansing, and whitewashing, and dust-
ing, is to be seen and heard in almost
every cottage. Nor is the still more im-
portant object of laying in a good solid
supply for a hungry host of visitors for-
gotten. Happy those who can command
a ham for the occasion. This is a great
favourite, as it is a cut-and-come-again
dish, ready at hand at all times. But this
is mostly with the tip-topping part. Few
but can boast of a substantial plum-
pudding ! And now the important day
is arrived. The merry bells from the
steeple announce the event ; and groups
of friends and relations, not forgetting
distant cousins and children, are seen
making their way, long before the hour
of dinner, to the appointed spot. This is
Sunday ; and in the afternoon a portion
of these strangers, clean and neatly
dressed, are seen flocking to the village
church, where the elevated band in the
gallery, in great force both in noise and
number, contribute lustily to their edifi-
cation, and the clergyman endeavours to
improve the solemnity of the occasion by
an appropriate address. During the
early part of the ensuing week, the feast

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. JANUARY 12.

is kept up with much spirit : the village
presents a holiday appearance, and open-
housekeeping, as far as may be, is the
order of the day ; the bells at intervals
send forth an enlivening peal ; all work
is nearly suspended ; gay stalls of ginger-
bread and fruit, according to the season
of the year, together with swings and
roundabouts, spread out their allurements
to the children ; bowls, quoits, and nine-
pins, for the men ; and the merry dance in
the evening, for the lasses. Fresh visitors
keep dropping in ; and almost all who
can make any excuse of acquaintance are

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature ... 35-62.

Sfanuarp 12.

Leeches unhurt by Frost.
Among the cold-blooded animals whicl
resist the effects of a low temperature,
we may reckon the common leech, which
is otherwise interesting to the meteorolo-
gist, on account of its peculiar habits and
movements under different states of the
atmosphere. A group of these animals
left accidentally in a closet without a fire,

acknowledged, and are hospitably enter- du "ng the frost of 1816, not only sur-
vived, but appeared to suffer no iniury
from being locked up in a mass of ice for
many days.*

tained, according to the means of their
village friends. As the week advances,
these means gradually diminish ; and as
an empty house has few attractions, by
the end of the week the bustle ceases,
and all is still and silent, as if it had
never been.

SWEEPING RHETORIC.

Certain rewards allowed by act of
parliament to firemen, turncocks, and

Man naturally requires excitement and otl \ ei ; s .' wn fir st appear with their engines

relaxation ; but "it is essentially necessary and im plements at premises sworn to be

that they should be adapted to his situa- n ** were claimed at the public office,

tion and circumstances. The feast week, Marlboroiigh-street, in this month, 1826,

however alluring it may appear in descrip- and resist ed on the ground that the

tion, is in reality productive of greater chimn ey, which belonged to a brewery,

evil than good. The excitement lasts too and was more than ei g nt y feet high, was

long, and the enjoyment, whatever it not > and COVL \d not be on fire. A witness

may be, is purchased at the sacrifice of to **** end > 8 ave a lively specimen of

too great expense. It is a well-known fam i liar statement and illustration. He

fact, that many of the poor who have ^egan by telling the magistrate, that he

exerted every effort to make this profuse, w . as a sweep-chimney by profession a

but short-lived display, have scarcely P iece f information very unnecessary, for
bread to eat for weeks after. But there was as black an d sooty a sweep as ever

no alternative, if they expect to be mounte d a chimney-top, and then went

received with the same spirit of hospitality
by their friends. The alehouses, in the
interim, are too often scenes of drunken-
ness and disorder; and the labouring man
who has been idle and dissipated for a
week, is little disposed for toil and tem-
perance the next. Here, then, the illu-
sion of rural simplicity ends ! These
things are managed much better where
one fair day, as it is called, is set apart
in each year, as is the case in many coun-
ties ; the excitement, which is intense for
ten or twelve hours, is fully sufficient for
the purpose ; all is noise and merriment,
and one general and -simultaneous burst
and explosion, if it may be so expressed,
takes place. You see groups of happy
faces. Every one is willing " to laugh
he knows not why, and cares not where-
fore ;" and one day's gratification serves
him for every days pleasing topic of re-
ference for weeks to come.

S. P.

on in this fashion" This here man,
(pointing to the patrol,) your wortship,
has told a false affidavit. I knows that
ere chimley from a hinfant, and she
knows my foot as well as my own mother.
The way as I goes up her is this I goes
in all round the boiler, then I twistes in
the chimley like the smoke, and then up
I goes with the wind, for, your wortship,
there's a wind in her that would blow you
out like a feather, if you didn't know her
as well as I do, and that makes me al-
ways go to the top myself, because there
isn't a brick in her that doesn't know my
foot. So that you see, your wortship, no
soot or blacks is ever in her : the wind
won't let 'em stop : and besides they
knows that I go up her regular. So that
she always keeps herself as clean as a new
pin. I'll be bound the sides of her is as
clean this minute as I am (not saying
much for the chimney); therefore, your

* Howard on Climate.

THE E VERY-DAY BOOK. JANUARY 12.

wortship, that ere man as saw two yards
of fire coming out of her, did not see no
such thing, I say ; and he has told your
wortship, and these here gentlemen pre-
sent, a false affidavit, I say. I was brought
up in that chimley, your wortship, and I
can't abear to hear such things said lies
of her; and that's all as I knows at pre-
sent, please your wortship."*

AMUSEMENTS.

The London Christmas evenings of
1826, appear to have been kept out of
doors, for every place of entertainment
was overflowing every night.

At this season, from six o'clock in the
evening, a full tide of passengers sets in
along every leading street to each of the
theatres. Hackney coaches drawl, and
cabriolets make their way, and jostle each
other, and private carriages swiftly roll,
and draw up to the box door with a
vigorous sweep, which the horses of hired
vehicles are too aged, or too low in con-
dition to achieve. Within a hundred
yards of either playhouse, hands are con-
tinually thrust into each coach window,
with " a bill of the play," and repeated
cries of " only a penny !" The coach-
door being opened, down fall the steps
with a sharp clackity-clack-click, and the
companies alight, if they can, without the
supernumerary aid of attendant pliers, who
offer their over-ready arms to lean upon,
and kindly entreat " Take care, sir !
mind how you step ma'am this way if
you please this way," all against your
will, and ending with " I hope you'll
please to remember a poor fellow !" the
" poor fellow" having done nothing but
interrupt you. When past the " pay
place/' great coats, umbrellas, shawls or
other useful accompaniments to and from
"the house," though real encumbrances
within it, may be safely deposited with
persons stationed for their reception, who
attach tickets to them, and deliver corres-
ponding numbers, which ensure the return
of your property on your coming out ; six-
pence or a shilling being a gratuity for the
accommodation. Then, when the whole is
over, there is the strict blockade of
coaches further than the eye can reach ;
servants looking out for the parties they
came with, and getting up their masters'
carriages ; and a full cry of hackney coach-
men and their representatives, vociferating

* The Time*, 5th January, 1826.

" Want a coach, sir? Here's your coach
sir ! Which is it, sir ? Coach to the city,
sir ! West end, sir ! Here ! Coach to the
city ! Coach to Whitechapel ! Coach to
Portman-square ! Coach to Pentonville !
Coach to the Regent's Park ! This way !
this way ! Stand clear there ! Chariot, or
a coach, sir? No chariots, sir, and all the
coaches are hired ! There's a coach here,
sir just below ! Coachman, draw up !"
and drawing up is impossible, and there
is an incessant confusion of calls and
complaints, and running against each
other, arising out of the immediate wants
of every body, which can only be succes-
sively gratified. Pedestrians make their
way home, or to the inns, as fast as pos-
sible, or turn in to sup at the fish-shops,
which, in five minutes, are more lively
than their oysters were at any time.
"Waiter! Waiter! Yes, sir ! Attend to
you directly, sir ! Yours is gone for, sir !
Why, I've ordered nothing ! It's coming
directly, sir ! Ginger-beer why this is
poison ! Spruce why this is ginger-beer !
Porter, sir ! I told you brandy and water!
Stewed oysters ! I ordered scolloped !
When am I to have my supper ? You've
had it, sir I beg your pardon, sir, the
gentleman that sat here is gone, sir!
Waiter ! waiter !" and so on ; and he who
has patience, is sure to be indulged with
an opportunity of retaining it, amidst
loud talking and laughter ; varied views
of the new pantomime ; conflicting testi-
mony as to the merits of the clown and
the harlequin ; the " new scenery, dresses,
and machinery;" likings and dislikings
of certain actresses ; " the lovely v Miss
So-and-so, or " that detestable" woman,
Mrs. Such-an-one, that clever fellow,
" Thing-a-merry," or that stupid dog,
" What-d'ye-call-um." These topics fail-
ing, and the oysters discussed, then are
stated and considered the advantages of
taking something "to keep 'em down ;'' the
comparative merits of Burton, Wind-
sor, or Edinburgh ale; the qualities of
porter ; the wholesomeness of smoking ;
the difference between a pipe and a segar,
and the preference of one to the other ;
whether brandy or rum, or the clear spi-
rit of juniper, is the best preservative of
health ; which of the company or their
friends can drink most; whether the last
fight was " a cross," and who of all the men
in the fancy is most "game ;" whether the
magistrates dare to interfere with " the
ring ;" whether if fighting should be " put
an end to" Englishmen will have half

the courage
years ago
isted ;

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. JANUARY 12.

they had three hundred
before prize fighting ex-
whether Thurtell was not

sitters after the play, till they adjourn to
" spend the evening" at the " flash-and-
foolish" houses which " keep it up" all

good one" to the last, and whether there's night in the peculiar neighbourhood of

a better " trump" in the room. On these the public office, Bow-street. This is

points, or to points like these, the con- more than mere animal gratification, as

versation of an oyster room is turned by the police reports exemplify.

Capital oysters, I declare !
Excellent spruce, and ginger beer !
Don't you take vinegar ? there's the bread
We'll just have a pipe and then to bed.

Why should not this be deemed a real
scene, and as respectable as that just de-
scribed. It is quite as lively and as in-
tellectual. The monkey eats, and accord-
ing to many accounts can catch fish as
well as man. It is told of this animal,
that from love of the crab and experience
of his claws, he gently shakes his tail be-
fore the hole of the crab, who, as soon as
he begins to *' pull him by his long tail,"

is drawn out by that dependancy and falls
a prey to his decoyer. It is related that a
party of officers belonging to the 25th
regiment of infantry, on service at Gibral-
tar, amused themselves with whiting fish-
ing at the back of the rock till they were
obliged to shift their ground from being
pelted from above, they did not know
by whom. At their new station they
caught plenty of fish, but the drum having

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. JANUARY 13.

unexpectedly beat to arms, they rowed
hastily ashore, and drew their boat high
and dry upon the beach. On their re-
turn they were greatly surprised to find it
in a different position ashore, and some
hooks baited which they had left bare. In
the end it was ascertained that their pelt-
ers while they were fishing were a party
of young monkeys. They were driven off
by two or three old ones who remained se-
cretly observing the whiting fishing of the
officers till they had retired. The old mon-
keys then launched the boat, put to sea,
baited their hooks, and proceeded to work
The few fish they caught,they hauled up with
infinite gratification, and when tired they
landed, placed the boat as nearly as they
could in its old position, and went up the
rock with their prey. General Elliot,
while commander at Gibraltar, never
suffered the monkeys with which the rock
abounds to be molested or taken.

The faculty of imitation in monkeys is
limited, but not so in man ; a remark-
able instance of this is lately adduced
in a pleasant little story of perhaps the
greatest performer on our stage.

Garrick.

At a splendid dinner-party at lord

's they suddenly missed Garrick, and

could not imagine what was become of
him, till they were drawn to the window
by the convulsive screams and peals of
laughter of a young negro boy, who was
rolling on the ground in an ecstasy of de-
light to see Garrick mimicking a turkey-
cock in the court yard, with his coat-tail
stuck out behind, and in a seeming flutter
of feathered rage and pride. Of our party
only two persons present had seen the
British Roscius ; and they seemed as will-
ing as the rest to renew their acquaint-
ance with their old favourite. This anec-
dote is new : it is related by the able
writer of a paper concerning " Persons
one would wish to have seen,"* as an in-
stance of Garrick's singleness of purpose
when he was fully possessed by an idea.

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature ... 34 45.

13.

1826, Hilary Cambridge Term begins.
St. VERONICA.

Some curious circumstances are con-
nected with the name of this saint, who
appears to have been a poor ignorant
girl, born near Milan, where she worked
in the fields for her living. Conceiving a
desire to become a nun, she sat up at
night to learn to read and write, which,
her biographer says, for want of an in-
structor, was a great fatigue to her. He
proceeds to tell us, that she was relieved
from labour of that kind in the following
manner: " One day, being in great
anxiety about her learning, the mother of
God, in a comfortable vision, bade her
banish that anxiety, for it was enough if
she knew three letters." So Veronica
became a nun, seeking " the greatest
drudgery," desiring " to live always on
bread and water," and dying " at the
hour which she had foretold, in the year
1497, and the fifty-second of her age.
Her sanctity was confirmed by miracles."
We gather this from Alban Butler, who
subjoins, by way of note, thus :

" The print of the holy face of our
Saviour on a linen cloth is kept in St.
Peter's church at Rome, with singular
veneration. Some private writers and
churches have given the name of St.
Veronica to the devout woman who is
said to have presented this linen to our
divine Redeemer, but without sufficient
warrant."

Before saying any thing concerning the
earlier St. Veronica, or " this linen "
whereon Romish writers allege Christ
impressed his own portrait by wiping his
face with it, mention may be made of
another portrait of him which Romish
writers affirm he miraculously executed
in the same manner, and sent to Abgarus,
king of Edessa, in the way hereafter
related. They have further been so care-
ful as to publish a print of this pretended
portrait, with representations around il-
lustrating the history they tell of it. An
engraving from it immediately follows.
The Latin inscription beneath their print
is placed beneath the present engraving

* In the New Monthly Magazine, Jan. 1826.

THE EVERY-D/VY BOOK. JANUARY 13.

Cftrfeti Bomfnf.

Ex ipsomet Divino Exemplari AD ABGARUM missa Genuas in Ecelesia S'. 1 Bartolomcei
Clericorum Reg. S 1 . 1 Pauli Summa Veneratione asservato

amiratfe&tme

No circumstance is more remarkable
than the existence of this pretended re-
semblance, as an object of veneration in
the Romish church. Being one of the
greatest curiosities in its numerous cabi-
nets of relics, it has a place in this work,
which, while it records manners and cus-
toms, endeavours to point out their origin,

and the means by which they have been
continued. Nor let it be imagined that
these representations have not influenced
our own country ; there is evidence to the
contrary already, and more can be adduced
if need require, which will incontestably
prove that many of our present popular
customs are derived from such sources.

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. JANUARY 14.

NATURALISTS CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature . . . 35 27.

Sanuarg 14.

1826. Oxford Hilary Term begins.

SAILORS.

Mariners form a distinct community,
with peculiar manners, little known to
their inland fellow countrymen, except
through books. In this way Smollett has
done much, and from Mr. Leigh Hunt's
* Indicator," which may not be in every
one's hands, though it ought to be, is ex-
tracted the following excellent descrip-
tion:

SEAMEN ON SHORE.

And tirst of the common sailor. The
moment the common sailor lands, he goes
tc see the watchmaker, or the old boy at
the Ship. His first object is to spend his
money : but his first sensation is the
strange firmness of the earth, which he
goes treading in a sort of heavy light way,
half waggoner and half dancing master,
his shoulders rolling, and his feet touching
and going; the same way, in short, in
which he keeps himself prepared for all
the rolling chances of the vessel, when on
deck. There is always, to us, this ap-
pearance of lightness of foot and heavy
strength of upper works, in a sailor. And
he feels it himself. He lets his jacket fly
open, and his shoulders slouch, and his
hair grow long to be gathered into a
heavy pigtail ; but when full dressed, he
prides himself on a certain gentility of
toe ; on a white stocking and a natty
shoe, issuing lightly out of the flowing
blue trowser. His arms are neutral,
hanging and swinging in a curve aloof;
his hands, half open, look as if they had
just been handling ropes, and had no
object in life but to handle them again.
He is proud of appearing in a new hat
and slops, with a belcher handkerchief
flowing loosely round his neck, and the
corner of another out of his pocket. Thus
equipped, with pinchbeck buckles in his
shoes (which he bought for gold) he puts
some tobacco in hi* mouth, not as if he
v/ere going to use it directly, but as if he
stuffed it in a pouch on one side, as a
pelican does fish, to employ it hereafter :
and so, with Bet Monson at his side, and
No. 55.

perhaps a cane or whanghee twisted
under his other arm, sallies forth to take
possession of all Lubberland. He buys
every thing that he comes athwart, nuts,
gingerbread, apples, shoe-strings, beeu
brandy, gin, buckles, knives, a watch,
(two, if he has money enough,) gowns
and handkerchiefs for Bet, and^his mother
and sisters, dozens of " superfine best
men's cotton stockings," dozens of " su-
perfine best women's cotton ditto," best
good check for shirts (though he has too
much already), infinite needles and thread
(to sew his trowsers with some day), a
footman's laced hat, bear's grease to make
his hair grow (by way of joke), several
sticks, all sorts of jew articles, a flute
(which he can't play and never intends),
a leg of mutton which he carries some-
where to roast, and for a piece of which
the landlord of the Ship makes him pay
twice what he gave for the whole ; in
short, all that money can be spent upon,
which is every thing but medicine gratis ;
and this he would insist on paying for.
He would buy all the painted parrots on
an Italian's head, on purpose to break
them, rather than not spend his money.
He has fiddles and a dance at the Ship,
with oceans of flip and grog ; and gives
the blind fiddler tobacco for sweetmeats,
and half a crown for treading on his toe.
He asks the landlady with a sigh, after
her daughter Nance who first fired his
heart with her silk stockings ; and finding
that she is married and in trouble, leaves
five crowns for her; which the old lady
appropriates as part payment for a shil-
ling in advance.* He goes to the port
playhouse with Bet Monson, and a great
red handkerchief full of apples, ginger-
bread nuts, and fresh beef; calls out for
the fiddlers and Rule Britannia; pelts
Tom Sikes in the pit ; and compares
Othello to the black ship's cook in his
white night-cap. When he comes to
London, he and some messmates take a
hackney-coach, full of Bet Monsons and
tobacco pipes, and go through the streets
smoking and lolling out of window. He
has ever been cautious of venturing on
horseback ; and among his other sights in
foreign parts, relates with unfeigned as-
tonishment how he has seen the Turks
ride, " Only," says he, guarding against
the hearer's incredulity, " they have sad-
dle-boxes to hold 'em in, fore and aft ;
and shovels like for stirrups." He will
tell you how the Chinese drink, and the
NEGURS dance, and the monkies pelt you

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. JANUARY 4

with cocoa-nuts; and how king Domv
would have built him a mud hut and
made him a peer of the realm, if he would
have stopped with him and taught him to
make trowsers. He has a sister at a
" school for young ladies," who blushes
with a mixture of pleasure and shame at
his appearance; and whose confusion he
completes, by slipping fourpence into her
hand, and saying out loud that he has " no
more copper" about him. His mother
and elder sisters at home doat on all he
says and does, telling him however that
he is a great sea-fellow, and was always
wild ever since he was a hop-o'-my-thumb
no higher than the window-locker. He
tells his mother she would be a duchess
in Paranaboo; at which the good old
portly dame laughs and looks proud.
When his sisters complain of his romping,
he says that they are only sorry it is not
the baker. He frightens them with a
mask made after the New Zealand fashion,
and is forgiven for his learning. . Their
mantle-piece is filled by him with shells
and shark's teeth ; and when he goes to sea
again, there is no end of tears, and God'
bless you, and home-made gingerbread.

His officer on shore does much of all
this, only, generally speaking, in a higher
taste. The moment he lands he buys
quantities of jewellery and other valu-
ables, for all the females of his acquaint-
ance ; and is taken in for every article.
He sends in a cart load of fresh meat to
the ship, though he is going to town next
day ; and calling in at a chandler's for
some candles, is persuaded to buy a
dozen of green wax, with which he lights
up the ship at evening ; regretting that
the fine moonlight hinders the effect of
the colour. A man, with a bundle be-
neath his arm, accosts him in an under-
tone ; and, with a look in which respect
for his knowledge is mixed with an
avowed zeal for his own interest, asks if
his honour will just step under the gang-
way here, and inspect some real India
shawls. The gallant lieutenant says to
himself, " this fellow knows what's what
by his face ;" and so he proves it by being
taken in on the spot. When he brings
the shawls home, he says to his sister
with an air of triumph, " there Poll,
there's something for you ; only cost me
twelve, and is worth twenty, if it's worth
a dollar." She turns pale " Twenty
what, my dear George ? Why, you
haven't given twelve dollars for it, I
hope 1" " Not I, by the Lord."" That's

lucky ; because you see, my dear George,
that all together is not worth more thau
fourteen or fifteen shillings." " Fourteen
or fifteen what ! Why, it's real India, en't
it ? Why the fellow told me so ; or I'm
sure I'd as soon'' (here he tries to hide
his blushes with a bluster) " I'd as soon
have given him twelve douses en the
chaps as twelve guineas." " Twelve
GUINEAS," exclaims the sister; and then
drawling forth " Why my DEAR
George," is proceeding to show him what
the articles would have cost him at Con-
dell's, when he interrupts her by request-
ing her to go and choose for herself a tea-
table service. He then makes his escape
to some messmates at a coffee-house, and
drowns his recollection of the shawls in
the best wine, and a discussion on the
comparative merits of the English and
West Indian beauties and tables. At the
theatre afterwards, where he has never
been before, he takes a lady at the back
of one of the boxes for a woman of qua-
lity: and when after returning his long
respectful gaze with a smile, she turns
aside and puts her handkerchief to her
mouth, he thinks it is in derision, till
his friend undeceives him. He is intro-
duced to the lady ; and ever afterwards,
at first sight of a woman of quality (with-
out any disparagement either to those
charming personages), expects her to give
him a smile. He thinks the other ladies
much better creatures than they are taken
for ; and for their parts, they tell him, that
if all men were like himself, they would
trust the sex again : which, for aught we
know, is the truth. He has, indeed, what
he thinks a very liberal opinion of ladies
in general ; judging them all, in a manner,
with the eye of a seaman's experience.
Yet he will believe nevertheless in the
" true-love" of any given damsel whom
he seeks in the way of marriage, let him
roam as much, or remain as long at a
distance as he pleases. It is not that he
wants feeling; but that he has read of it,
time out of mind, in songs ; and he
looks upon constancy as a sort of exploit,
answering to those which he performs at
sea. He is nice in his watches and linen.
He makes you presents of cornelians, an-
tique seals, cocoa-nuts set in silver, and
other valuables. When he shakes hands
with you, it is like being caught in a
windlass. He would not swagger about
the streets in his uniform, for the world.
He is generally modest in company,
though liable to be irritated by what he

THE EVERY- DAY BOOK. JANUARY 15.

thinks un gentlemanly behaviour. He is
also liable to be rendered irritable by
sickness ; partly because he has been
used to command others, and to be served
with all possible deference and alacrity ;
and partly, because the idea of suffering
pain, without any honour or profit to get
by it, is unprofessional, and he is not
accustomed to it. He treats talents un-
like his own with great respect. He often
perceives his own so little felt that it
teaches him this feeling for that of others.
Besides, he admires the quantity of in-
formation which people can get, without
travelling like himself; especially when
he sees how interesting his own becomes,
to them as well as to every body else.
When he tells a story, particularly if full
of wonders, he takes care to maintain his
character for truth and simplicity, by qua-
lifying it with all possible reservations,
concessions, and anticipations of objec-
tion ; such as " in case, at such times as,
so to speak, as it were, at least, at any
rate." He seldom uses sea-terms but
when jocosely provoked by something
contrary to his habits of life ; as for in-
stance, if he is always meeting you on
horseback, he asks if you never mean to
walk the deck again ; or if he finds you
studying day after day, he says you are
always overhauling your log-book. He
makes more new acquaintances, and for-
gets his old ones less, than any other man
in the busy world ; for he is so compelled
to make his home every where, remem-
bers his native one as such a place of
enjoyment, has all his friendly recollec-
tions so fixed upon his mind at sea, and
has so much to tell and to hear when he
returns, that change and separation lose
with him the most heartless part of their
nature. He also sees such a variety of
customs and manners, that he becomes
charitable in his opinions altogether ; and
charity, while it diffuses the affections,
cannot let the old ones go. Half the se-
cret of human intercourse is to make al-
lowance for each other.

When the officer is superannuated or
retires, he becomes, if intelligent and in-
quiring, one of the most agreeable old
men in the world, equally welcome to the
silent for his card-playing, and to the
conversational for his recollections. He
is fond of astronomy and books of voy-
ages ; and is immortal with all who know
him, for having been round the world, or
seen the Transit of Venus, or had one of
his finger? carried off by a New Zealand

hatchet, or a present of feathers from an
Otaheitean beauty. If not elevated by
his acquirements above some of his hum-
bler tastes, he delights in a corner-cup-
board holding his cocoa-nuts and punch-
bowl; has his summer-house castellated
and planted with wooden cannon; and
sets up the figure of his old ship, the Bri-
tannia or the Lovely Nancy, for a statue
in the garden ; where it stares eternally
with red cheeks and round black eyes, as
if in astonishment at its situation.

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature ... 36 20.

Sfanuarp 15.

Changes of Climate.

An opinion has been long entertained,
that there are vicissitudes in the climate and
temperature of the air unknown to former
times, and that such variations exist in
America as well as in Europe. It is said
that the transatlantic changes have been
more frequent, and the heat of the sun
not so early or so strongly experienced
as formerly. In America, these altera-
tions are attributed to a more obvious
cause than uncertain hypothesis, and at
not many degrees distance. For instance,
the ice in the great river St. Lawrence, at
Quebec, did not break up till the first
week in May, 1817, when it floated down
the stream in huge masses, and in vast
quantities; these, with other masses from
the coast of Labrador, &c. spread a
general coldness many degrees to the
southward. But a few weeks before the
snow fell in some parts of New England,
and New York, to a considerable depth,
and there were severe frosts. The vessels
from England and Ireland, which arrived
at Quebec, all concurred in their accounts
of the dangers which they encountered,
and the cold which they suffered. In
fine, it would appear that the ice in those
regions had accumulated to so alarming a
degree, as to threaten a material change
in all the adjacent countries, and to verify
the theory of some who imagined that the
extreme cold of the north was gradually
making encroachments upon the extreme
heat of the south. They have remarked,
in confirmation of their opinions, that the
accounts of travellers and navigators,
furnish strong reasons for supposing that
the islands of ice in the higher northern
latitudes, as well as the glaciers on the

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. JANUARY 15.

Alps, continue perpetually to increase in
bulk. At certain times, in the ice moun-
tains of Switzerland, there occur fissures,
which show the immense thickness of the
frozen matter ; some of these cracks have
measured three or four hundred ells deep.
The great islands of ice, in the northern
seas bordering upon Hudson's Bay, have
been observed to be immersed one

Reasonings of this kind are supported
by the greatest names, and countenanced
by the authentic reports of the best in-
formed travellers. Mr. Bradley attribute?
the cold winds and wet weather, which
sometimes happen in May and June, to
the solution of ice islands accidentally
detached and floating from the north.
Mr. Barham, about the year 1718, in his

hundred fathoms beneath the surface of voyage from Jamaica to England, in the

the sea, and to have risen a fifth or sixth
part above the surface, measuring, at the
same time, about a mile and a half in
diameter. It has been shown by Dr.
Lyster, that the marine ice contains some
salt, and less air, than common ice, and

beginning of June, met with some of
those islands, which were involved in such
a fog that the ship was in danger of strik-
ing against them. One of them measur-
ed sixty miles in length.

On the 22d of December, 1789, there

that it therefore is more difficult of solu-.. was an instance of ice islands having been
tion. From these premises, he endea- wafted from the southern polar regions,
vours to account for the perpetual aug- It was on these islands that the Guardian
mentation of those floating islands. By a struck, at the commencement of her
celebrated experiment of Mr. Boyle, it passage from the Cape of Good Hope
has been demonstrated that ice evaporates towards Botany Bay. These islands

were wrapt in darkness, about one hun-
dred and fifty fathoms long, and above
fifty fathoms above the surface of the
waves. In the process of solution, a
fragment from the summit of one of them

very fast, in severe frosty weather, when
the wind blows upon it ; and as ice, in a
thawing state, is known to contain six
times more cold than water, at the same
degree of sensible coldness, it is easy to
conceive that winds sweeping over islands
and continents of ice, perhaps much
below northing on Fahrenheit's scale, and
rushing thence into our latitudes, must

broke off, and plunging into the sea,
caused a tremendous commotion in the
water, and dense smoke all around it
These facts were strongly urged upon

bring most intense degrees of cold along public attention in the autumn of 1817,*
with them. If to this be added the as grounds of not only curious and inter-
quantity of cold produced by the evapo- esting, but likewise of highly important
ration of the water, as well as by the speculation. A supposed change in the
solution of ice, it can scarcely be doubted temper, and the very character of our
but that the arctic seas are the principal seasons, was deemed to have fallen within
source of the cold of our winters, and the observation of even young men, or at
that it is brought hither by the regions least middle-aged men ; and upon this
of the air blowing from the north, and supposition, it was not deemed extrava-
which take an apparently easterly direc- gant to anticipate the combined force of
tipn, by their coming to a part of the the naval world employed in navigating
surface of the earth, which moves faster the immense masses of ice into the more
than the latitude from which they origi- southern oceans ; while to render the
nate. Hence, the increase of the ice in notion more agreeable, and to enliven the
the polar regions, by increasing the cold minds of such as might think such matters
of our climate, adds', at the same time, to of speculation dull or uninteresting, the
the bulk of the glaciers of Italy and project was laid before them in a versified

garb, characterising the arctic region*

There in her azure coif, and starry stole,

Grey Twilight sits, and rules the slumbering pole ;

Bends the pale moon-beams round the sparkling coast,

And strews, with livid hands, eternal frost !

There, Nymphs ! alight, array your dazzling powers,

With sudden march alarm the torpid hours;

On ice-built isles expand a thousand sails,

Hinge the strong helm, and catch the frozen gales ;

The winged rocks to feverish climates guide,

Where fainting zephyrs pant upon the tide ;

Switzerland.

* See M. Chronicle, 4 Oct.

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. JANUARY 16.

7-1

Pass where to Ceuta Calpe's thunder roars,
And answering echoes shake the kindred shores ;
Pass where with palmy plumes Canary smiles,
And in her silver girdle binds her isles ;
Onward, where Niger's dusky Naiad laves
A thousand kingdoms with prolific waves,
Or leads o'er golden sands her threefold train
In steamy channels to the fervid main,
While swarthy nations crowd the sultry coast,
Drink the fresh breeze, and hail the floating frost ;
Nymphs ! veil'd in mist, the melting treasures steer,
And cool with artic snows the tropic year.
So from the burning line, by monsoons driv'n,
Clouds sail in squadrons o'er the darken'd heav'n ,
Wide wastes of sand the gelid gales pervade,
And ocean cools beneath the moving shade.

Darwin.

NATUKALISTS . CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature ... 35 05.

Sanuarp 16.

110GMANY.

Mr. Reddock's paper on this subject,
at page 13. has elicited the following
fetter from a literary gentleman, concern-
mg a dramatic representation in England
similar to that which Mr. Reddock in-
stances at Falkirk, and other parts of
North Britain. Such communications are
particularly acceptable; because they show
to what extent usages prevail, and wherein
they differ in different parts of the coun-
try. Tt will be gratifying to every one
who peruses this work, and highly so to
the editor, if he is obliged by letters from
readers acquainted with customs in their
own vicinity, similar to those that
they are informed of in other counties,
and particularly if they will take the
trouble to describe them in every particu-
lar. By this means, the Every- Day Book
will become what it is designed to be
made, a storehouse of past and present
manners and customs. Any customs of
any place or season that have not already
appeared in the worK, are earnestly solicited
from those who have the means of fur-
nishing the information The only con-
dition stipulated for, as absolutely indis-
pensable to the insertion of a letter re-
specting facts of this nature, is, that the
name and address of the writer be com-
municated to the ediior, who will subjoin
such signature as the writer may choose
Ms letter should bear to the eye of the
public. The various valuable articles of

this kind which have hitherto appeared in
the work, however signed by initials or
otherwise, have been so authenticated to
the editor's private satisfaction, and he
is thus enabled to vouch for the genuine-
ness of such contributions.

To the Editor of the Everyday Book.

Sir,

In your last number appeared a very
amusing article touching some usages and
customs in Scotland, and communicated
from Falkirk. In the description of the
boys' play, ingeniously suggested as
typical of the Roman invasion under
Agricola, we, however, read but a varied
edition of what is enacted in other parts
besides Scotland, and more particularly
in the western counties, by those troops
of old Father Christmas boys, which
are indeed brief chronicles of the times.
I mean, those paper-decorated, brick-
dust-daubed urchins, 'yclept Mummers.

To be sure they do not begin,
" Here conies in the king of Macedon ;"
but we have instead,

" Here comes old Father Christmas,
Christmas or Christmas not,
I hope old Father Christmas never will be
forgot."

And then for the Scottish leader Galgacus,

we find,

" Here comes in St. George, St. George

That man of mighty name,

With sword and buckler by my side

1 hope to tvin the game."

These *' western kernes " have it, you see,
Mr. Editor, " down along," to use their
own dialect, with those of the thistle.
Then, too, we havi a fight. Oh ! how

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. JANUARY 16.

beautiful to my boyish eyes were their
wooden swords and their bullying gait !
then we have a fight, for lo

" Here's come I, the Turkish knight,
Come from the Sol dan's land to fight,
And be the foe's blood hot and bold
With my sword I'll make it cold."

A vile Saracenic pun in the very minute
of deadly strife. But they fight the
cross is victorious, the crescent o'erthrown,
and, as a matter of course, even in our
pieces of mock valour, duels we have
therein the doctor is sent for ; and he is
addressed, paralleling again our players of
" Scotia's wild domain," with

'* Doctor, doctor, can you tell
What will make a sick man well ?"

and thereupon he enumerates cures which
would have puzzled Galen, and put Hip-
pocrates to a " non-plus ;" and he finally
agrees, as in the more classical drama of
your correspondent, to cure our unbeliever
for a certain sum.

The " last scene of all that ends this
strange eventful history'' consists in the
entrance of the most diminutive of these
Thespians, bearing, as did .ZEneas of old,
his parent upon his shoulders, and reciting
this bit of good truth and joculation (per-
mitting the word) by way of epilogue :

*' Here comes I, little Johnny Jack,
With my wife and family at my back,
Yet, though my body is but small,
I'm the greatest rogue amongst ye all ;
This is my scrip so for Christmas cheer
If you've any thing to give throw it in here*"

This may be but an uninteresting tail-
piece to your correspondent's clever com-
munication, but still it is one, and makes
the picture he so well began of certain
usages more full of point.

I doat upon old customs, and I love
hearty commemorations, and hence those
mimics of whom I have written I mean
the mummers are my delight, and in the
laughter and merriment they create I for-
get to be a critic, and cannot choose but
laugh in the fashion of a Democritus,
rather than weep worlds away in the style
of a Diogenes.

I am, &c. &c.

J. S. jun.

Little Chelsea,
Jan. 4, 1826.

In the preface to Mr. Davies Gilbert's
work on "Ancient Christmas Carols,"
there is an account of Cornish sports,

with a description of a " metrical play, v
which seems to be the same with which
is the subject of the preceding letter.

Being on the popular drama, and as
the topic arose in Mr. Reddock's commu-
nication from Scotland, a whimsical dra-
matic anecdote, with another of like kin
from that part of the kingdom, is here sub-
joined from a Scottish journal of this
month in the year 1823.

New Readings of Burns.

We were lately favoured with the peru-
sal of a Perth play -bill, in which Tarn
O'Shanter, dramatized, is announced for
performance as the afterpiece. A ludi-
crous mistake has occurred, however, in
the classification of the Dramatis Per-
sonce. The sapient playwright, it would
appear, in reading the lines

" Tarn had got planted unco richt,

Fast by an ingle bleezin* finely,

Wi' reaman' swats that drank divinely,"

very naturally conceiving ream an' swats,
from the delectable style of their carous-
ing, to be a brace of Tarn's pot compa-
nions, actually introduced them as such,
as we find in the bill that the characters
of " Ream" and " Swats" are to be per-
sonated by two of the performers !

This reminds us of an anecdote, con-
nected with the same subject, which had
its origin nearer home. Some time ago
we chanced to be in the shop of an elderly
bookseller, when the conversation turned
upon the identity of the characters intro-
duced by Burns in his Tarn O'Shanter.
The bibliopole, who had spent the early
part of his life in this neighbourhood, as-
sured us that, " exceptin' Kerr, he kent
every body to leuk at that was mention-
ed, frae Tarn himsel' doun to his mare
Maggie." This being the first time we
had ever heard Mr. Kerr's cognomen al-
luded to, in connection with Tarn O'Shan-
ter, we expressed considerable surprise,
and stated that he undoubtedly must have
made a mistake in the name. "It may
be sae, but its a point easily sattled," said
he, raxing down a copy of Burns from
the shelf. With " spectacles on nose,"
he turned up the poem in question. "Ay,
ay," said he, in an exulting tone, " I
thocht I was na that far wrang

" Care mad to see a man sae happy,
E'n drowned himself amang the happy."

Now, I kent twa or three o' the Kerr's

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. JANUARY 17.

that leev't in the town-head, but I never
could fin' out whilk o' them Burns had in
his e'e when he wrote the poem."*

To Thespian ingenuity we are under
an obligation for an invention of great
simplicity, which may be useful on many
occasions, particularly to literary persons
who are too far removed from the press
to avail themselves of its advantages in
printing short articles for limited distribu-
tion.

A Dramatic Printing Apparatus.
Itinerant companies of co edians fre-
quently print their play-bills by the fol-
lowing contrivance : The form of letter is
placed on a flat support, having ledges at
each side, that rise within about a thir-
teenth of an inch of the inked surface of
the letter. The damped paper is laid
upon the letter so disposed, and previously
inked, and a roller, covered with woollen
cloth, is passed along the ledges over its
surface ; the use of the ledges is to pre-
vent the roller from rising in too obtuse
an angle against the first letters, or going
off too abruptly from the last, which would
cause the paper to be cut, and the im-
pression to be injured at the beginning
and end of the sheet. The roller must
be passed across the page, for if it moves
in the order of the lines, the paper will
bag a little between each, and the impres-
sion will be less neat.^-

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature ... 35 * 65.

Sfanuarp 17.

Snow, fyc.

On the 16th and 17th of January, 1809,
Mr. Howard observed, that the snow ex-
hibited the beautiful blue and pink shades
at sunset which are sometimes observ-
able, and that there was a strong evapora-
tion from its surface. A circular area, of
five inches diameter, lost 150 grains troy,
from sunset on the 15th to sunrise next
morning, and about 50 grains more by the
following sunset; the gauge being exposed
to a smart breeze on the house top. The
curious reader may hence compute for
himself, the enormous quantity raised in
those 24 hours, without any visible lique-

* Ayr Courier.

f Dr. Aikin's Athenaeum.

faction, from an acre of snow : the effects
of the load thus given to the air were soon
perceptible. On the 17th, a small bril-
liant meteor descended on the S. E.
horizon about 6 p. m. On the 18th,
though the moon was still conspicuous,
the horns of the crescent were obtuse.
On the 1 9th appeared the Cirrus cloud,
followed by the Cirrostratus. In the
afternoon a freezing shower from the east-
ward glazed the windows, encrusted the
walls, and encased the trees, the garments
of passengers, and the very plumage of
(he birds with ice. Birds thus disabled
were seen lying on the ground in great
numbers in different parts of the country.
Nineteen rooks were taken up alive by
one person at Castle Eaton Meadow,
Wilts. The composition of this frozen
shower, examined on a sheet of paper,
was no less curious than these effects. It
consisted of hollow spherules of ice, filled
with water ; of transparent globules ol
hail ; and of drops of water at the point
of freezing, which became solid on touch-
ing the bodies they fell on. The ther-
mometer exposed from the window indi-
cated 30,5. This was at Plaistow. The
shower was followed by a moderate fall
of snow. From this time to the 24th,
there were variable winds and frequent
falls of snow, which came down on the
22d in flakes as large as dollars, with
sleet at intervals. On the 24th a steady
rain from W. decided for a thaw. This
and the following night proved stormy :
the melted snow and rain, making about
two inches depth of water on the level,
descended suddenly by the rivers, and the
country was inundated to a greater extent
than in the year 1795. The River Lea
continued rising the whole of the 26th,
remained stationary during the 27th, and
returned into its bed in the course of the
two following days. The various chan
nels by which it intersects this part of the
country were united in one current, above
a mile in width, which flowed with great
impetuosity, and did much damage. From
breaches in the banks and mounds, the
different levels, as they are termed, of
embanked pasture land, were filled to the
depth of eight or nine feet. The cattle,
by great exertions, were preserved, being
mostly in the stall ; and the inhabitants,
driven to their upper rooms, were relieved
by boats plying under the windows. The
Thames was so full during this time, that
no tide was perceptible; happily, how-
ever, its bank suffered no injury; and the

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. JANUARY 17.

recession of the water from the levels pro-
ceeded with little interruption till the 23d
of February, when it nearly all subsided.
No lives were lost in these parts ; but
several circumstances concurred to render
this inundation less mischievous than it
might have been, from the great depth o.
snow on the country. It was the time of
neap tide ; the wind blew strongly from
the ivestward, urging the water down the
Thames ; while moonlight nights, and a
temperate atmosphere, were favourable to
the poor, whose habitations were filled
with water. On the 28th appeared a
lunar halo of the largest diameter. On
the 29th, after a fine morning, the wind
began to blow hard from the south, and
during the whole night of the 30th it raged
with excessive violence from the west,
doing considerable damage. The baro-
meter rose, during this hurricane, one-
tenth of an inch per hour. The remainder
of the noon was stormy and wet, and it

closed with squally weather ; which, with
the frequent appearance of the rainbow,
indicated the approach of a drier atmo-
sphere, a change on few occasions within
Mr. Howard's recollection more desirable.
Numerous inundations, consequent on
the thaw of the 24th, appear to have pre-
vailed in low and level districts all along
the east side of the island : but in no
part with more serious destruction of pro-
perty, public works, and the hopes of the
husbandman, than in the fens of Cam-
bridgeshire : where, by some accounts.
60,000, by others above 150,000 acres of
land, were laid under deep water, through
an extent of 15 miles. It is a fact worth
preserving, that about 500 sacks filled
with earth, and laid on the banks of the
Old Bedford river, at various places,
where the waters were then flowing over,
proved effectual in saving that part of the
country from a general deluge.

It's a custom at Highgate, that all who go through,
Must be sworn on the horns, sir ! and so, sir, must you !
Bring the horns ! shut the door ! now, sir, take off your hat !-
When you come here again, don't forget to mind that !

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. JANUARY 17.

" Have you been sworn at Highgate ?"
is a question frequently asked in every
r>art of the kingdom ; for, that such a cus-
tom exists in this village is known far and
near, though many who inquire, and are
asked, remain ignorant of the ceremony.
As the practice is declining, diligence has
been exercised to procure information on
the spot, and from every probable source,
concerning this remarkable usage.

The village of Highgate take its name
from the gate across the public road into
London, opposite the chapel, which is
sometimes erroneously called the church,
for it is, in fact, only a chapel of ease to
Hornsey church. This road runs through
land belonging to the bishopric of Lon-
don, and was made, by permission of the
bishop in former times, probably when the
whole of this spot, and. the circumjacent
country, was covered with wood, and part
of the great forest of Middlesex, which,
according to Matthew Paris, was infested
by wolves, stags, boars, and other wild
beasts, besides robbers. This gate, from
being on the great northern eminence to-
wards London, was called the A/j^A-gate ;
as the land became cleared of wood, houses
arose near the spot, and hence the village
now called Highgate. It seems probable,
that the first dwelling erected here was
the gate-house. The occupier of the inn
of that name holds it under a lease from
the bishop, under which lease he also
farms the bishop's toll. In the year 1 769
the old gate-house, which extended over
the road, was taken down, and the present
common turnpike-gate put up. So much,
then, concerning Highgate, as introduc-
tory to the custom about to he related.

" Swearing on the horns," which now
is " a custom more honoured in the breach
than in the observance," prevailed at
Highgate as a continual popular amuse-
ment and private annoyance. An old and
respectable inhabitant of the village says,
that sixty years ago upwards of eighty
stages stopped every day at the Red Lion,
and that out of every five passengers three
were sworn. It is a jocular usage of the
place, from beyond the memory of man,
especially encouraged by certain of the
villagers, to the private advantage of pub-
lic landlords. On the drawing up of
coaches at the inn-doors, particular invi-
tations were given to the company to
alight, and after as many as could be col-
lected were got into a room for purposes of
refreshment, the subject of being " sworn
at Highgate" was introduced, and while

a little artifice easily detected who had
not taken the oath, some perhaps express-
ed a wish to submit to the ceremony. It
often happened however, that before these
facts could be ascertained "the horns"
were brought in by the landlord, and as
soon as they appeared, enough were usually
present to enforce compliance. "The
horns," fixed on a pole of about five feet
in height, were erected, by placing the
pole upright on the ground, near the
person to be sworn, who was required
to take off his hat, and all present having
done the same, the landlord then, in a loud
voice, swore in, the " party proponent."
What is called the oath is traditional, and
varies verbally in a small degree. It has
been taken down in writing from the lips
of different persons who administer it, and
after a careful collation of the different
versions the following may be depended on
as correct. The landlord, or the person
appointed by him to "swear in," pro-
claims a'oud

" Upstanding and uncovered ! Si-
lence !" Then he addresses himself to
the person he swears in, thus :

" TAKE NOTICE what I now say unto
you, for that is the first word of your
oath mind that! You must acknow-
ledge me to be your adopted Father, I
must acknowledge you to be my adopted
son (or daughter.) If you do not call me
father you forfeit a bottle of wine, if I do
not call you son, I forfeit the same. And
now, my good son, if you are travelling
through this village of Highgate, and you
have no money in your pocket, go call for
a bottle of wine at any house you think
proper to go into, and book it to your fa-
ther's score. If you have any friends with
you, you may treat them as well, but if
you have money of your own, you must
pay for it yourself. For you must not
say you have no money when you have,
neither must you convey the money out
of your own pocket into your friends'
pockets, for I shall search you as well as
them, and if it is found that you or they
have money, you forfeit a bottle of wine'
for trying to cozen and cheat your poor
old ancient father. You must not eat
brown bread while you can get white, ex-
cept you like the brown the best ; you
must not drink small beer while you can
get strong, except you like the small the
best. You must not kiss the maid while you
can kiss the mistress, except you like the
maid the best, but sooner than lose a
good chance you may kiss them both.

THE L\ EUY-DAY EOOK.-JANUARY 17.

And now, my good son, fo: a word or two
of advice. Keep from all houses of ill
repute, and every place of public resort
for bad company, Beware of false
friends, for they will turn to be your foes,
and inveigle you into houses where you
may lose your money and get no redress,
Keep from thieves of every denomination.
And now, my good son, I wish you a safe
journey through Highgate and this life.
I charge you, my good son, that if you
know any in this company who have not
taken this oath, you must cause them to
take it, or make each of them forfeit a
bottle of wine, for if you fail to do so you
wLl forfeit a bottle of wine yourself. So
now, my son, God bless you ! Kiss the
horns or a pretty girl if you see one here,
which you like best, and so be free of
Highgate !"

If a female be in the room she is usually
saluted, if not, the horns must be kissed :
the option was not allowed formerly. As
soon as the salutation is over the swearer-
in commands " silence V and then ad-
dressing himself to his new-made " son,"
he says, "I have now to acquaint you
with your privilege as a freeman of this
place. If at any time you are going
through Highgate and want to rest your-
self, and you see a pig lying in a ditch you
have liberty to kick her out and take her
place; but if you see three lying together
you must only kick out the middle one
and lie between the other two ! God
save the kgig !" This important privi-
Jege of the freemen of Highgate was first
discovered by one Joyce a blacksmith,
who a few years ago kept the Coach and
Horses, and subjoined the agreeable in-
formation to those whom " he swore in."

When the situation of things and per-
sons seems to require it, the " bottle of
wine" is sometimes compounded for by a
modus of sundry glasses of " grog," and in
many cases a pot of porter.

There is one circumstance essential for
a freeman of Highgate to remember, and
" that is the first word of his oath, mind
that .'" If he fail to recollect that, he is
subject to be resworn from time to time,
and so often, until he remember that. He
is therefore never to forget the injunction
before he swears, to take notice what is
said, " for that is the first word of your
oath mind that /" Failure of memory
is deemed want of comprehension, which
is no plea in the high court of Highgate

" mind that /" That is, that that " that,"
is " that"

There is no other formality in the ad-
ministration or taking of this oath, than
what is already described ; and the only
other requisite for " a stranger in High"
gate" to be told, is, that now in the year
1826, there are nineteen licensed houses
in this village, and that at each of these
houses the " horns" are kept, and the oath
administered by the landlord or his
deputy.

To note the capabilities of each house,
their signs are here enumerated, with the
quality of horns possessed by each.

1. THE GATE-HOUSE is taken first in
order, as being best entitled to priority,
because it has the most respectable ac-
commodation in Highgate. Besides the
usual conveniences of stabling and beds,
it has a coffee-room, and private rooms
for parties, and a good assembly-room.
The horns there are Stag's.

2. Mitre, has Stag's horns.

3. Green Dragon, Stag's horns.

4. Red Lion and Sun, Bullock's horns.
The late husband of Mrs. Southo, the

present intelligent landlady of this house,
still lives in the recollection of many
inhabitants, as having been a most face-
tious swearer in.

5. Bell, Stag's horns. This house now
only known as the sign of the " Bell,"
was formerly called the " Bell and Horns."
About fifty years ago, it was kept by one
Anderson, who had his " horns" over his
door, to denote that persons were sworn
there as well as at the Gate-house.
Wright, the then landlord of the " Red
Lion and Sun," determined not to be
outrivalled, and hung out a pair of bul-
lock's horns so enormous in size, and
otherwise so conspicuous, as to eclipse
the " Bell and Horns ;" at last, all the
public houses in the village got " horns,"
and swore in. It is within recollection
that every house in Highgate had " the
horns" at the door as a permanent sign.

6. Coach and Horses, . Ram's horns.

7. Castle, Ram's horns.

8. Red Lion, .... Ram's horns.

9. Wrestler's, .... Stag's horns.

10. Bull, Stag's horns.

11. Lord Nelson, . . . Stag's horns.

12. Duke of Wellington, . Stag's horns.
This house is at the bottom of Highgate

Hill, towards Finchley, in the angle
formed by the intersection of the old road

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK.-- JANUARY 17.

over the hill, and the road through the
archway to Holloway. It therefore com-
mands the Highgate entrance into Lon-
don, and the landlord avails himself of
his " eminence" at the foot of the hill, by
proffering his " horns" to all who desire
to be free of Highgate.

13. Crown, . Stag's herns. This is
the first public house in Highgate coming
from Holloway. i

14. Duke's Head, . . Stag's horns.

15. Cooper's Arms, . . Ram's horns.

16. Rose and Crown, . Stag's horns.

17. Angel, .... .* Stag's horns.

18. Flask, Ram's horns.

This old house is now shut up. It is

at the top of Highgate Hill, close by the
pond, which was formed there by a hermit,
who caused gravel to be excavated for the
making of the road from Highgate to
Islington, through Holloway. Of this
labour old Fuller speaks, he calls it a
" t*,vo-handed charity, providing water on
the hill where it was wanting, and cleanli-
ness in the valley which before, especially
in winter, was passed with difficulty."

19. Fox and Crown . Ram's Horns.
This house, commonly called the " Fox v
and the " Fox under the Hill," is nearly
at the top of the road from Kentish Town
to Highgate, and though not the most
remarked perhaps, is certainly the most
remarkable house for " swearing on the
horns." Guiver, the present landlord,
(January 1826) came to the house about
Michaelmas 1824, and many called
upon him to be sworn in ; not having
practised he was unqualified to indulge
the requisitionists, and very soon finding,
that much of the custom of his house de-
pended on the "custom of Highgate," and
imagining that he had lost something by
his indifference to the usage, he boldly
determined to obtain " indemnity for the
past, and security for the future." There-
upon he procured habiliments, and an
assistant, and he is now an office-bearer
as regards the aforesaid "manner" of High-
gate, and exercises his faculties so as to
dignify the custom. Robed in a domino
with a wig and mask, and a book wherein
is written the oath, he recites it in this
costume as he reads it through a pair of
spectacles. The staff with " the horns" is
held by an old villager who acts as clerk,
and at every full stop, calls aloud,
" Amen !" This performance furnishes
the representation of the present engrav-
ing from a sketch by Mr. George Cruik-
shank. He has waggishly misrepresented

one of the figures, which not being tha
landlord, who is the most important cha-
racter, no way affects the general fidelity
of the scenes sometimes exhibited m the
parlour of the Fox and Crown.

It is not uncommon for females to be
"sworn at Highgate." On such occa-
sions the word " daughter" is substituted
for "son," and other suitable alterations
are made in the formality. Anciently there
was a register kept at the gate-house,
wherein persons enrolled their names
when sworn there, but the book unac-
countably disappeared many years ago. 1
Query. Is it in Mr. Upcott's collection of
autographs ?

There seems to be little doubt, that the
usage first obtained at the Gate-house ;
where, as well as in other public houses,
though not in all, at this time, deputies
are employed to swear in. An old inha-
bitant, who formerly kept a licensed
house, says, " In my time nobody came
to Highgate in any thing of a carriage,
without being called upon to be sworn in.
There was so much doing in this way at
one period, that I was obliged to hire a
man as a ' swearer-in :' I have sworn in
from a hundred to a hundred and twenty
in a day. Bodies of tailors used to come
up here from town, bringing five or six
new shopmates with them to be sworn ;
and I have repeatedly had parties of la-
dies and gentlemen in private carriages
come up purposely to be made free of
Highgate in the same way."

Officers of the guards and other regi-
ments repeatedly came to the Gate-house
and called for " the horns." Dinner parties
were formed there for the purpose of ini-
tiating strangers, and as pre-requisite for
admission to sundry convivial societies,
now no more, the freedom of Highgate
was indispensable.

Concerning the origin of this, custom,
there are two or three stories. One is,
that it was devised by a landlord, who had
lost his licence, as a means of covering
the sale of his liquors ; to this there seems
no ground of credit.

Another, and a probable account, is, to
this effect That Highgate being the place
nearest to London where cattle rested on
their way from the north for sale in Smith-
field, certain graziers were accustomed to
put up at the Gate-house for the night,
but as they could not wholly exclude

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. JANUARY 18.

stnmjers, who like themselves were tra-
velling on their business, they brought an
ox to the deer, and those who did not
choose to kiss its horns, after going
through the ceiemony described, were not
deemed fit members of their society.

It is imagined by some, because it is so
stated in a modern book or two as likely,
that the horns were adopted to swear
this whimsical oath upon, because it was
tendered at the parish ofHorns-ey, where-
in Highgate is situated.

The reader may choose either of these
origins ; he has before him all that can be
known upon the subject.

An anecdote related by Mrs. Southo of
the Red Lion and Sun, may, or may not,
be illustrative of this custom. She is a
native of Hoddesdon in Hertfordshire,
where her father kept the Griffin, and she
says, that when any fresh waggoner came
to that house with his team, a drinking
horn, holding about a pint, fixed on a
stand made of four rams' horns, was
brought out of the house, and elevated
above his head, and he was compelled to
pay a gallon of beer, and to drink out of
the horn. She never heard how the usage
originated ; it had been observed, and
the stand of rams' horns had been in the
nouse, from time immemorial.

NATURALISTS CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature ... 35 52.

18.

St. Priscian.
In the church of England calendar.

OLD TWELFTH DAY.

This is still observed in some parts of
England

Don Sebastian.

In default of holiday making by the
editor, who during the Christmas season
has been employed in finishing the
index es,which will be in the readers' hands
in tew days to enable them to complete
tl e "rst volume of this work, he has now
a>id then turned to his collections to re-
li n e the wearisomeness of his occupation,
ind finding the following anecdote in

The Times" of Dec. 1825, he subjoins

from his stores an illustration of the
curious fact it relates to. " It may be
mentioned," The Times says, " as a sin-
gular species of infatuation, that many
Portuguese residing in Brazil as well as
Portugal, still believe in the coming of
Sebastian, the romantic king, who was
killed in Africa about the year 1578, in a
pitched battle with the emperor Muley
Moluc. Some of these old visionaries
will go out, wrapped in their large cloaks,
on a windy night, to watch the move-
ments of the heavens, and frequently, if
an exhalation is seen flitting in the air,
resembling a falling star, they will cry
out, " there he comes !" Sales of horses
and other things are sometimes effected,
payable at the coming of king Sebastian.
It was this fact that induced Junot, when
asked what he would be able to do with
the Portuguese, to answer, what can I do
with a people who are still waiting for
the coming of the Messiah and king Se-
bastian ?"

This superstitious belief is mentioned
in a MS. Journal of a Residence at Lis-
bon in 1814, written by an individual
personally known to the editor, who ex-
tracts from the narrative as follows :

It is the daily practice at Lisbon for
the master of the family to cater for the
wants of his table himself. According to
ancient usage, he must either employ and
pay a porter to carry home his purchases
at market, or send a servant for them. A
certain doctor, well known to be a lover
of fish, and an enthusiastic expectant of
Don Sebastian, was watched several days
in the fish market by some knavish youths,
who contrived a trick upon him. One
morning, they observed him very intent
upon a fine large fish, yet disagreeing
with the fishmonger as to its price. One
of these knaves managed to inform the
man, if he would let the doctor have the
fish at his own price he would pay the
difference, and the fishmonger soon con-
cluded the bargain with the doctor. As
soon as he was gone, one of the party,
without the fishmonger's knowledge, in-
sinuated down the fish's throat a scroll of
parchment curiously packed, and shortly
afterwards, the doctor's servant arrived
for his master's purchase. On opening
the fish, in order to its being cooked, the
parchment deposit was found, and the
credulous man, to his astonishment and
delight, read as follows :

"Worthy and well-beloved Signor

, respected by the saints and now

THE EVKRY-DAY BOOK. JANUARY 19.

revered by men. From our long observ-
ation of thine heart's integrity, and in
full knowledge of thy faith and firm be-
lief, thou art selected as the happy instru-
ment of our return ; but know, most
worthy Signer, the idea of a white
horse in clouds of air, is a mere fable
invented by weak men. It will be fai
otherwise, but be thou circumspect and
secret, and to thee these things will be
explained hereafter. Know, that by the
element of water, by which we make this
known, we shall return. Not far from
Fort St. Juliana is a spot thou knowest
well, a smooth declivity towards the sea ;
it is there we first shall touch the shore
of our loved Portugal to-morrow's night
at twelve. Be thou there alone, and
softly gliding on the water's surface a
small boat shall appear. Be silent and re-
main quiet on our appearance, for until we
can join our prayers with thine thou must
not speak ; load not thyself with coin, for
soon as dawn appears a troop of goodly
horse from Cintra's Road will rise upon
thy view. But be not destitute of where-
with to bear thine expense. All thy future
life shall be thy prince's care.

"SEBASTIAN."

The trick succeeded ; for the next day
the doctor left Lisbon as privately as pos-
sible, while his trepanners who had watch-
ed him quickly followed, two in a boat
hired for the purpose, and two on shore,
to make a signal. The boat arrived at
the appointed hour, and the doctor ex-
pected nothing less than the landing of
the long expected and well-beloved Sebas-
tian. It reached the shore, and by those
who stepped out and their confederates
concealed on the beach, the doctor was
eased of some doubloons he had with
him, received a cool dip in the water, and
was left on the beach to bewail his folly.
The story soon got wind, and now (in
1814) there are wags who, when they
observe the doctor coming, affect to see
something in the sky ; this hint con-
cerning Don Sebastian's appearance is
usually intimated beyond the reach of the
doctor's cane.

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature ... 36 12.

Sanuarp 19.

Feast of Lanthorns.

This is a festival with the Chinese on
the fifteenth day of the first month of their
year. It is so called from the great num-
ber of lanthorns hung out of the houses,
and in the streets ; insomuch that it ra-
ther appears a season of madness, than of
feasting. On this day are exposed lant-
horns of all prices, whereof some are said
to cost two thousand crowns. Some of
their grandees retrench somewhat every
dr.y out of their table, their dress, their
equipage, &c. to appear the more magni-
ficent in lanthorns. They are adorned with
gilding, sculpture, painting, japanning,
&c. and as to their size, it is extravagant ;
some are from twenty-five to thirty feet
diameter; they represent halls and cham-
bers. Two or three such machines toge-
ther would make handsome houses. In
lanthorns of these dimensions the Chinese
are able to eat, lodge, receive visits, have
balls, and act plays. The great multi-
tude of smaller lanthorns usually consist
of six faces or lights, each about four feet
high, and one and a half broad, framed
in wood finely gilt and adorned; over
these are stretched a fine transparent silk,
curiously painted with flowers, trees, and
sometimes human figures. The colours
are extremely bright; and when the
torches are lighted, they appear highly
beautiful and surprising.

'French Lark Shooting.

To the gentleman whose letter from
Abbeville, descriptive of " Wild fowl
shooting in France," is on p. 1575 of
vol. I., the editor is indebted for another
on " Lark shooting," which is successfully
practised there by a singular device un-
known to sportsmen in this country.*

* To his former letter J. J. H. are printed as
in'.tiaL by mistake, inctcad of J. H. H.

THE EVERY-DAY ROOK. JANUARY 19.

Boating m Jfrawe

As far-off islanders,

Innocent of trade, unskilled in commerce,
To whom a glass or toy unknown before
Is wonderful, give freely, flocks and fruits
To gain mere baubles ; so, these silly birds
Attracted by the glisten of the twirler,
Hover above the passing strange decoy,
Intent to gaze, and fall the gunnel's prey.

Abbeville.
Dear Sir,
If I do not send you your wished for

Partridge and quail shooting cease in
this delightful part of the world about the
middle of October, for by that time the

wood cuts I at least keep my promise of partridges are so very wild and wary that

letting you hear from me. I told you in
my last you should have something about

there is no getting near them. The rea-
son of this is, that our fields here are all

our krk-shooting, and so you shall, and open without either hedge or ditch, and

at this time too ; though I assure you
writing flying as I almost do, is by no
means so agreeable to me as snooting fly-
ing, which is the finest sport imaginable.
When I come home I will tell you all

when the corn and hemp are off, the stub-
ble is pulled up so close by the poor peo-
ple for fuel, that there is no cover for par-
tridges ; as to the quails, they are all
either " killed off," or take their depar-

about it, for the present I can only ac- ture for a wilder climate ; and then there

luaint you with enough to let

the secret of the enjoyment that

rou into
should

always find in France, if I had no other
attraction to the country. I must " level"
at once, for I have no time to spare, and
so " here goes," as the boy says.

is nothing left for the French gentry to
amuse themselves with but lark-shooting.
These birds are attracted to any given
spot in great numbers by a singular con-
trivance, called a miroir. This is a small
machine, made of a piece of mahogany,

THE EVEUY-DAY BOOK. JANUARY 20.

shaped like a chapeau bras, and highly
polished ; or else it is made of common
wood, inlaid with small bits of looking
glass, so as to reflect the suns rays up-
wards. It is fixed on the top of a thin
iron rod, or upright spindle, dropped
through an iron loop or ring attached to
a piece of wood, to drive into the ground
as here represented.

By pulling a string fastened to the
spindle, the miroir twirls, and the reflect-
ed light unaccountably attracts the larks,
who hover over it, and become a mark for
the sportsman. In this way I have had
capital sport. A friend of mine actually
shot six dozen before breakfast. While he
sat on the ground he pulled the twirler
himself, and his dogs fetched the birds as
they dropped. However, I go on in the
common way, and employ a boy to work
the twirler. Ladies often partake in the
amusement on a cold dry morning, not by
shooting but by watching the sport. So
many as ten or a dozen parties are some-
times out together, firing at a distance of
about five hundred yards apart, and in
this way the larks are constantly kept on
the wing. The most favourable mornings
are when there is a gentle light frost, with
little or no wind, and a clear sky for
when there are clouds the larks will not
approach. One would think the birds
themselves enjoyed their destruction, for
the fascination of the twirler is so strong,
as to rob them of the usual " fruits of ex-
perience." After being fired at several
times they return to the twirler, and form
again into groupes above it. Some of
them even fly down and settle on the
ground, within a yard or two of the as-
tonishing instrument, looking at it "this

way and that way, and all ways together,"
as if nothing had happened.

Larks in France fetch from three to four
sous a piece. In winter, however, when
they are plentiful, they are seldom eaten,
because here they are always dressed with
the trail, like snipes and woodcocks ; but
for this mode of cooking they are not fit-
ted when the snow is on the ground,
because they are then driven to eat turnip-
tops, and other watery herbs, which com-
municate an unpleasant flavourto the trail.
Were you here at the season, to eat larks in
their perfection, and dressed as we dress
them, I think your praise of the cooking
would give me the laugh against you, if
you ever afterwards ventured to declaim
against the use of the gun, which, next to
my pencil, is my greatest hobby. I send
you a sketch of the sport, with the boy at
the twirler do what you like with it.

I rather think I did not tell you in my
last, that the decoy ducks, used in wild-
fowl shooting, are made of wood >any
stump near at hand is hacked out any
how for the body, while a small limb of
any tree is thrust into the stump for the
duck's neck, and one of the side branches
left short makes his head. These ducks
answer the purpose with their living pro-
totypes, who fly by moonlight, and have
not a perfect view, and don't stay for dis-
tinctions, like philosophers.

It will not be long before I'm off for
England, and then, &c.

I am, &c.

J. H. H.

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature ... 37*02.

Sfanuarp 20.

Fabian.
In the church of England calendar.*

DEDICATION.

The dedication of each day in the year,
by the Romish church, in honour of a
saint, which converts every day into a fes-
tival, is a fact pretty well known to the
readers of the Every-Day Book. It is
also generally known, that in certain al-
manacs every part of the human body is
distributed among the days throughout
the year, as subjects of diurnal influence ;
but it is not perhaps so well known, that

* See vol. i. p. 135.

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK JANUARY 2i.

every joint of each finger on each hand
was appropriated to some saint. The
proof of this is supplied by two very old
prints, from engravings on wood, at the
British Museum. They are among a col-
lection of ancient wood cuts pasted in a
folio volume. It would occupy too much
room to give copies of these representa-
tions in fac-simile : the curiously inclined,
who have access to the Museum print-
room, may consult the originals ; general
readers may be satisfied with the follow,
ing description :

Right Hand.

The top joint of the thumb is dedicated
to GOD ; the second joint to the Virgin ;
the top joint of \heforefinger to Barna-
bas, the second joint to John, the third
to Paul; the top joint of the second fin-
ger to Simeon Cleophas, the second
joint to Tathideo, the third to Joseph ;
the top joint of the third finger to Zac-
cheus, the second to Stephen, the third to
Luke ; the top joint of the little finger
to Leatus, the second to Mark, the third
joint to Nicodemus.

Left Hand.

The top joint of the thumb is dedicated
to Christ, the second joint to the Virgin;
the top joint of the fore finger to St.
James, the second to St. John the evange-
list, the third to St. Peter ; the first joint
of the second finger to St. Simon, the se-
cond joint to St. Matthew, the third to St.
James the great; the top joint of the
third finger to St. Jude, the second joint
to St. Bartholomew, the third to St. An-
drew; the top joint of the little finger to
St. Matthias, the second joint to St. Tho-
mas, the third joint to St. Philip.

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature ... 36 . 92.

Sfanuarg 21.

St. Agnes.

In the church of England calendar.*
How to sleep well in cold weather.

Obtain a free circulation of the blood
by walking, or other wholesome exercise,
so as to procure a gentle glow over the
entire surface of the body. Hasten to
your chamber, undress yourself quickly,
and jump into bed without suffering
its temperature to be heightened by the

* See vol. i. p. 141.

machine called a -warming-pan. Your
bed will be warmed by your own heat,
and if you have not eaten a meat supper,
or drank spirits, you will sleep well and
warm all night. Calico sheets are adapted
to this season blankets perhaps are bet-
ter; but as they absorb perspiration they
should be washed before they come into

use with sheets in summer time.

Extraordinary sleeper.

Samuel Clinton, of Timbury, near Bath,
a labouring man, about twenty-five years
of age, had frequently slept, without inter-
mission, for several weeks. On the 13th
of May, 1694, he fell into a profound
sleep, out of which he could by no means
be roused by those about him ; but after
a month's time, he rose of himself, put on
his clothes, and went about his business
as usual. From that time to the 9th of
April following he remained free from
any extraordinary drowsiness, but then
fell into another protracted sleep. His
friends were prevailed on to try what re-
medies might effect, and accordingly he
was bled, blistered, cupped, and scarified,
but to no purpose. In this manner he
lay till the 7th of August, when he awak-
ed, and went into the fields, where he
found people busy in getting in the har-
vest, and remembered that when he fell
asleep they were sowing their oats and
barley. From that time he remained well
till the 17th of August, 1697, when he
complained of a shivering, and, after some
disorder of the stomach, the same day fell
fast asleep again. Dr. Oliver went to see
him ; he was then in an agreeable warmth,
but without the least sign of his being
sensible ; the doctor then held a phial of
sal-ammoniac under his nose, and in-
jected about half an ounce up one of his
nostrils, but it only made his nose run
and his eyelids shiver a little. The doc-
tor then filled his nostrils with powder of
white hellebore, but the man did not dis
cover the least uneasiness. About ten
days after, the apothecary took fourteen
ounces of blood from his arm without his
making the least motion during the ope-
ration. The latter end of September Dr.
Oliver again visited him, and a gentle-
man present ran a large pin into his arm
to the bone, but he gave not the least sign
of feeling. In this manner he lay till the
19th of November, when his mother hear-
ing him make a noise ran immediately to
him, and asked him how he did, and what
^e would have to eat? to which he re-

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. JANUARY 22.

plied, " very well, I thank you ; I'll take
some bread and cheese." His mother,
overjoyed, ran to acquaint his brother that
he was awake, but on their goiug up stairs
they found him as fast asleep as ever.
Thus he continued till the end of Janu-
ary, at which time he awoke perfectly well
and very little altered in his flesh, and
went about his business as usual.*

NATURALISTS CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature ... 37

35.

Sanuarp 22.

St. fincent.
In the church of England calendar.^

on tfce

The Hyde-park river which no river is,

The Serpentine which is not serpentine
When frozen, every skater claims as his,

In right of common, there to intertwine
With countless crowds, and glide upon the ice.

Lining the banks, the timid and unwilling
Stand and look on, while some the fair entice

By telling, " yonder skaters are quadrilling"
And here the skatelesshire the " best skates" for a shilling.

Vol.. 1156.

Phil. Tr*n.

t See vol. i. p. 15J.

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. JANUARY 22.

100

A hard frost is a season of holidays in
London. The scenes exhibited are too
agreeable and ludicrous for the pen to
describe. They are for the pencil; and
Mr. Cruikshank's is the only one equal
to the series. In a work like this there
is no room for their display, yet he has
hastily essayed the preceding sketch in a
short hour. It is proper to say, that how-
ever gratifying the representation may be
to the reader, the friendship that extorted
it is not ignorant that scarcely a tithe of
either the time or space requisite has
been afforded Mr. Cruikshank for the sub-
ject. It conveys some notion however of
part of the doings on u the Serpentine in
Hyde-park" when the thermometer is
below " freezing," and every drop of wa-
ter depending from trees and eaves be-
comes solid, and hangs

" like a diamond in the sky."
The ice-bound Serpentine is the resort of
every one who knows how or is learning
to skate, and on a Sunday its broad sur-
face is covered with gazers who have " as
much right" to be on it as skaters, and
therefore " stand" upon the right to in-
terrupt the recreation they came to see.
This is especially the case on a Sunday.
The entire of this canal from the wall of
Kensington-gardens to the extremity at
the Knightsbridge end was, on Sunday
the 15th of January, 1826, literally
a mob of skaters and gazers. At one
period it was calculated that there were
not less than a hundred thousand persons
upon this single sheet of ice.

The coachmen on the several roads, par-
ticularly on the western and northern
roads, never remembered a severer frost
than they experienced on the Sunday
night just mentioned. Those who recol-
lected that of 1814, when the Thames
was frozen over, and booths raised
on the ice, declared that they did not
feel it so severely, as it did not come
on so suddenly. The houses and trees in
the country had a singular appearance on
the Monday, owing to the combination of
frost and fog; the trees, and fronts of
houses, and even the glass was covered
with thick white frost, and was no more
transparent than ground-glass.

Butchers, in the suburbs, where the frost
was felt more keenly than in the metro-
polis, were obliged to keep their shops
shut in order to keep out the frost ; many
of them carried the meat into their par-
lours, and kept it folded up in cloths

round the fires, and unfolded it as their
customers came in and required it. The
market gardeners also felt the severity of
the weather it stopped their labours, and
some of the men, attended by their wives,
went about in parties, and with frosted
greens fixed at the tops of rakes and hoes,
uttered the ancient cry of " Pray re-
member the gardeners ! Remember the
poor frozen out gardeners '."*

The Apparition.

Twas silence all, the rising moon
With clouds had veil'd her light,

The clock struck twelve, when, lo ! I saw
A very chilling sight.

Pale as a snow-ball was its face,

Like icicles its hair;
For mantle, it appeared to me

A sheet of ice to wear.

Tho' seldom given to alarm,

I'faith, I'll not dissemble,
My teeth all chatter'd in my head,

And every joint did tremble.

At last, I cried, " Pray who are you,

And whither do you go V
Methought the phantom thus replied,

*' My name is Sally Snow ;

" My father is the Northern Wind,
My mother's name was Water ;

Old parson Winter married them,
And I'm their hopeful Daughter.

" I have a lover Jackey Frost,
My dad the match condemns ;

I've run from home to-night to meet
My love upon the Thames."

I stopp'd Miss Snow in her discourse,

This answer just to cast in,
" I hope, if John and you unite,

Your union wo'n't be lasting !

" Besides, if you should rnarry him,
But ill you'd do, that I know ;

For surely Jackey Frost must be
A very slippery fellow."

She sat her down before the fire,

My wonder now increases ;
For she I took to be a maid,

Then tumbled into pieces !

For air, thin air, did Hamlet's ghost,
His foremost cock-crow barter ;

But what I saw, and now describe,
Resolv'd itself to water.

* Morning Herald, 16th January, 1826.

101

TEiE EVERY-DAY BOOK. JANUARY 22.

102

GREAT FROST, 1814.

The severest and most remarkable
frost in England of late years, commenced
in December, 1813, and generally
called " the Great Frost in 1814,'' was
preceded by a great fog, which came on
with the evening of the 27th of Decem-
ber, 1813. It is described as a darkness
that might be felt. Cabinet business of
great importance had been transacted,
and lord Castlereagh left London about
two hours before, to embark for the con-
tinent. The prince regent, (since George
IV.) proceeding towards Hatfield on a
visit to the marquis of Salisbury, was
obliged to return to Carlton-house, after
being absent several hours, during which
period the carriages had not reached be-
yond Kentish-town, and one of the out-
riders fell into a ditch. Mr. Croker, se-
cretary of the admiralty, on a visit north-
ward, wandered likewise several hours in
making a progress not more than three or
four miles, and was likewise compelled to
put back. It was " darkness that might be
felt."

On most of the roads, excepting the
high North-road, travelling was performed
with the utmost danger, and the mails
were greatly impeded.

On the 28th, the Maidenhead coach
coming to London, missed the road near
Hartford bridge and was overturned.
Lord Hawarden was among the passen-
gers, and severely injured.

On the 29th, the Birmingham mail
was nearly seven hours in going from the
Post-office to a mile or two below Ux-
bridge, a distance of twenty miles only :
and on this, and other evenings, the short
stages in the neighbourhood of London
had two persons with links, running by
the horses' heads. Pedestrians carried
links or lanterns, and many, who were
not so provided, lost themselves in the
most frequented, and at other times well-
known streets. Hackney-coachmen mis-
took the pathway for the road, and the
greatest confusion prevailed.

On the 31st, the increased fog in the
metropolis was, at night, truly alarming.
It required great attention and thorough
knowledge of the public streets to pro-
ceed any distance, and persons who had
material business to transact were un-
avoidably compelled to carry torches.
The lamps appeared through the haze like
small candles. Careful hackney-coach-
men got off the box and led their horses,
while others drove only at a walking

pace. There were frequent meetings of
carriages, and great mischief ensued.
Foot passengers, alarmed at the idea of
being run down, exclaimed, " Who is
coming ?" " Mind !" Take care !"
&c. Females who ventured abroad were
in great peril ; and innumerable people
lost their way.

After the fogs, there were heavier
falls of snow than had been within the
memory of man. With only short inter-
vals, it snowed incessantly for forty-eight
hours, and this after the. ground was
covered with ice, the result of nearly four
weeks continued frost. During this long
period, the wind blew almost continually
from the north and north-east, and the
cold was intense. A short thaw of about
one day, rendered the streets almost im-
passable. The mass of snow and water
was so thick, that hackney-coaches with
an additional horse, and other vehicles,
could scarcely plough their way through.
Trade and calling of all kinds in the
streets were nearly stopped, and consi-
derably increased the distresses of the
industrious. Few carriages, even stages,
could travel the roads, and those in ~the
neighbourhood of London seemed de-
serted. From many buildings, icicles, a
yard and a half long, were seen suspended .
The water-pipes to the houses were all
frozen, and it became necessary to have
plugs in the streets for the supply of all
ranks of inhabitants. The Thames, from
London Bridge to Blackfriars, was com-
pletely blocked up at ebb-tide for nearly
a fortnight Every pond and river near
the metropolis was completely frozen.

Skating was pursued with great avidity
on the Canal in St. James's, and the Ser-
pentine in Hyde-park. On Monday the
10th of January, the Canal and the Basin
in the Green-park were conspicuous for
the number of skaters, who administered
to the pleasure of the throngs on the
banks ; some by the agility and grace of
their evolutions, and others by tumbles
and whimsical accidents from clumsy at-
tempts. A motley collection of all orders
seemed eager candidates for applause.
The sweep, the dustman, the drummer,
the beau, gave evidence of his own good
opinion, and claimed that of the belles who
viewed his movements. In Hyde-park, a
more distinguished order of visitors
crowded the banks of the Serpentine.
Ladies, in robes of the richest fur, bid de-
fiance to the wintry winds, and ventured
on the frail surface. Skaters, in gicat

103

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. JANUARY 22.

104

numbers, of first-rate notoriety, executed
some of the most difficult movements of
the art, to universal admiration. A lady
and two officers, who performed a reel
with a precision scarcely conceivable, re-
ceived applause so boisterous as to terrify
the fair cause of the general expression,
and occasion her to forego the pleasure she
received from the amusement. Two ac-
cidents occurred: a skating lady dislo-
cated the patella or kneepan, and five
gentlemen and a lady were submerged in
the frosty fluid, but with no other injury
than from the natural effect of so cold an
embrace.

On the 20th, in consequence of the
great accumulation of snow in London, it
became necessary to relieve *he roofs of
the houses by throwing off the load col-
lected upon them. By this means the
carriage-ways in the middle of the streets
were rendered scarcely pastble; and the
streams constantly flowing from the open
plugs, added to the general mass of ice.

Many coach proprietors, on the northern
and western roads, discontinued to run
their coaches. In places where the roads
were low, the snow had drifted above car-
riage height. On Finchley-common, by
the fall of one night, it lay to a depth
of sixteen feet, and the road was impass-
able even to oxen. On Bagshot-heath
and about Esher and Cobham the road
was completely choked up. Except the
Kent and Essex roads, no others were
passable beyond a few miles from London.
The coaches of the western road remained
stationary at different parts. The Windsor
coach was worked through the snow at
Colnbrook, which was there sixteen feet
deep, by employing about fifty labourers.
At Maidenhead-lane, the snow was still
deeper ; and between Twyford and Read-
ing it assumed a mountainous appear-
ance. Accounts say that, on parts of
Bagshot-heath, description would fail to
convey an adequate idea of its situation.
The Newcastle coach went off the road
into a pit upwards of eight feet deep, but
without mischief to either man or horse.
The middle North-road was impassable
at Highgate-hill.

On the 22d of January, and for some
time afterwards, the ice on the Serpentine
in Hyde-park bore a singular appear-
ance, from mountains of snow which
sweepers had collected together in dif-
ferent situations. The spaces allotted for

the skaters were in circles, squares, and
oblongs. Next to the carriage ride on the
north side, many astonishing evolutions
were performed by the skaters. Skipping
on skates, and the Turk-cap backwards,
were among the most conspicuous. The
ice, injured by a partial thaw in some
places, was much cut np, yet elegantly
dressed females dashed between the hil-
locks of snow, with great bravery.

At this time the appearance of the
river Thames was most remarkable. Vast
pieces of floating ice, laden generally with
heaps of snow, were slowly carried up
and down by the tide, or collected where
the projecting banks or the bridges re-
sisted the flow. These accumulations
sometimes formed a chain of glaciers,
which, uniting at one moment, were at
another cracking and bounding against
each other in a singular and awful manner
with loud noise. Sometimes these ice
islands rose one over another, covered
with angry foam, and were violently im-
pelled by the winds and waves through
the arches of the bridges, with tremen-
dous crashes. Near the bridges, the
floating pieces collected about mid-water,
or while the tide was less forcible, and
ranged themselves on each other ; the
stream formed them into order by its
force as it passed, till the narrowness of
the channel increased the power of the
flood, when a sudden disruption taking
place, the masses burst away, and floated
off. The river was frozen over for the
space of a week, and a complete Frost
Fair held upon it, as will be mentioned
presently.

Since the establishment of mail-coaches
correspondence had not been so inter-
rupted as on this occasion. Internal
communication was completely at a stand
till the roads could be in some degree
cleared. The entire face of the country
was one uniform sheet of snow ; no trace
of road was discoverable.

The Post-office exerted itself to have
the roads cleared for the conveyance of
the mails, and the government interfered
by issuing instructions to every parish in
the kingdom to employ labourers in re-
opening the ways.

In the midland counties, particularly
on the borders of Northamptonshire and
Warwickshire, the snow lay to a height

1J5

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. JANUARY 22.

106

altogether unprecedented. AtDunchurch,
a small village on the road to Birming-
nara, through Coventry, and for a few
miles round that place, in all directions,
the drifts exceeded twenty-four feet, and
no tracks of carriages or travellers could
oe discovered, except on the great road,
for many days.

The Cambridge mail coach coming
to London, sunk into a hollow of
the road, and remained with the snow
drifting over it, from one o'clock to nine
in the morning, when it was dragged out
by fourteen waggon horses. The pas-
sengers, who were in the coach the whole
of the time, were nearly frozen to death.

On the 26th, the wind veered to the
south-west, and a thaw was speedily dis-
cernible. The great fall of the Thames
at London-bridge for some days presented
a scene both novel and interesting. At
the ebbing of the tide, huge fragments of
ice were precipitated down the stream
with great violence, accompanied by a
noise, equal to the report of a small piece
of artillery. On the return of the tide,
they were forced back ; but the obstacles
opposed to their passage through the
arches were so great, as to threaten a
total stoppage to the navigation of the
river. The thaw continued, and these
appearances gradually ceased.

On the 27th, 28th, and 29th, the roads
and streets were nearly impassable from
floods, and the accumulation of snow.
On Sunday the 30th a sharp frost set in,
and continued till the following Saturday
evening, the 5th of February.

The Falmouth mail coach started from
thence for Exeter, after h;iving proceeded
a few miles was overturned, without ma-
terial injury to the passengers. With the
assistance of an additional pair of horses
it reached the first stage ; affer which all
endeavours to proceed were found per-
fectly useless, and the letters were sent to
Bodmin by the guard on horseback. The
Falmouth and Plymouth coach and its
passengers were obliged to remain at St.
Austell.

At Plymouth, the snow was nearly four
feet high in several of the streets.

At Liverpool, on the 17th of January,
Fahrenheit's thermometer, in the Athe-
naeum, stood at fifteen degrees ; seven
below the freezing point. From the ice
accumulated in the Mersey, boats could

not pass over. Almost all labour with-
out doors was at a stand.

At Gloucester, Jan. 17. The severity
of the frost had not been exceeded by
any that preceded it. The Severn was
frozen over, and people went to Tewkes-
bury market across the ice on horseback.
The cold was intense. The thermometer,
exposed in a north-eastern aspect, stood
at thirteen degrees, nine below the freez-
ing point. On the eastern coast, it stood
as low as nine and ten ; a degree of cold
unusual in this county.

Bristol, Jan. 18. The frost continued
in this city with the like severity. The
Floating Harbour from Cumberland basin
to the Feeder, at the bottom of Avon-
street, was one continued sheet of ice ;
and for the first time in the memory of
man, the skater made his appearance
under Bristol-bridge. The Severn was
frozen over at various points, so as to bear
the weight of passengers.

At Whitehaven, Jan. 18, the frost had
increased in severity. All the ponds and
streams were frozen ; and there was
scarcely a pump in the town that gave
out water. The market was very thinly
attended-, it having been found in many
parts impossible to travel until the snow
was cut.

At Dublin, Jan. 14, the snow lay in a
quantity unparalleled for half a century.
In the course of one day and night, it
descended so inconceivably thick and
rapid, as to block up all the roads, and
preclude the possibility of the mail coaches
being able to proceed, and it was even
found impracticable to send the mails on
horseback. Thus all intercourse with the
interior was cut off, and it was not until
the 18th, when an intense frost suddenly
commenced, that the communication was
opened, and several mail bags arrived
from the country on horseback.

The snow in many of the narrow streets
of Dublin, after the footways had been in
some measure cleared, was more than six
fe^t. It was nearly impossible for any
carriage to force a passage, and few ven-
tured on the hazardous attempt. Acci-
dents, both distressing and fatal, occurred.
In several streets and lanes the poorer
inhabitants were literally blocked up in
their houses, and in the attempt to go
abroad, experienced every kind of misery.
The number of deaths from cold and
distress were greater than at any other
period, unless at the time of the plague.
There were eighty funerals on the Sunday

107

THE EVERY DAY-BOOK JANUARY 22.

108

before this date. The coffin -makers in
Cook-street could with difficulty com-
plete their numerous orders : and not a
few poor people lay dead in their wretched
rooms for several days, from the impos-
sibility of procuring assistance to convey
them to the Hospital-fields, and the great
difficulty and danger of attempting to
open the ground, which was very uneven,
and where the snow remained in some
parts, twenty feet deep.

From Canterbury, January 25, the
communication with the metropolis was
not open from Monday until Saturday
preceding this date, when the snow was
cut through by the military at Chatham-
hill, and near Gravesend ; and the stages
proceeded with their passengers. The
mail of the Thursday night arrived at
Canterbury late on Friday evening, the
bags having been conveyed part of the
distance upon men's shoulders. The bags
of Friday and Saturday night arrived
together on Sunday morning about ten
o'clock.

Dalrymple, North Britain, January
29. Wednesday, the 26th, was an epoch
ever to be remembered by the inhabitants
of this village. The thaw of that and the
preceding day had opened the Doon,
formerly " bound like a rock," to a con-
siderable distance above this ; and the
melting of the snow on the adjacent hills
swelled the river beyond its usual height,
and burst up vast fragments of ice and
congealed snow. It forced them forward
with irresistible impetuosity, bending
trees like willows, carrying down Skel-
ton-bridge, and sweeping all before it.
The overwhelming torrent in its awful
progress accumulated a prodigious mass
of the frozen element, which, as if in
wanton frolic, it heaved out into the fields
on both sides, covering acres of ground
many feet deep. Alternately loading
and discharging in this manner, it came
to a door or two in the village, as if to
apprize the inhabitants of its powers.
The river having deserted its wonted
channel, endeavoured to make its grand
entry by several courses successively in
Saint Valley, and finding no one of them
sufficient for its reception, took them
altogether, and overrunning the whole
holm at once, appeared here in terrific
grandeur, between seven and eight o'clock
in the evening, when the moon retreated
behind a cloud, and the gloom of night
added to the horrors of the tremendous
scene. Like a sea, it overflowed all the

gardens on the east side, from the cross
to the bridge, and invaded the houses
behind by the doors and windows, ex-
tinguishing the fires in a moment, lifting
and tumbling the furniture, and gushing
out at the front doors with incredible
rapidity. Its principal inroad was by
the end of a bridge. Here, while the
houses stood as a bank on either side, it
came crashing and roaring up the street
in full career, casting forth, within a few
yards of the cross, floats of ice like mill-
stones. The houses on the west side
were in the same situation with those on
the east. At one place the water was
running on the house-eaves, at another
it was near the door-head, and midway
up the street, it stood three feet and a
half above the door. Had it advanced
five minutes longer in this direction, the
whole village must have been 'inundated.

During this frost a great number of
the fish called golden maids, were picked
up on Brighton beach and sold at good
prices. They floated ashore quite blind,
having been reduced to that state by the

Annexed are a few of the casualties
consequent on this great frost. A woman
was found frozen to death on the High-
gate-road. She proved to have been a
charwoman, returning from Highgate,
where she had been at work, toPancras.

A poor woman named Wood, while
crossing Blackheath from Leigh to the
village of Charlton, accompanied by her
two children, was benighted, and missed
her way. After various efforts to extri-
cate herself, she fell into a hole, and was
nearly buried in the snow. From this,
however, she contrived to escape, and
again proceeded ; but at length, being
completely exhausted, and her children
benumbed with cold, she sat down on
the trunk of a tree, where, wrapping her
children in her cloak, she endeavoured by
loud cries to attract the attention of some
passengers. Her shrieks at length were
heard by a waggoner, who humanely
waded through the snow to her assistance,
and taking her children, who seemed in
a torpid state, in his arms, he conducted
her to a public-house ; one of the infants
was frozen to death, and the other was
recovered with extreme difficulty.

As some workmen were clearing away
the snow, which was twelve feet deep, at

109

THE EVERY DAY-BOOK. JAW OAR Y 22.

11G

Kipton, on the border of Northampton- mass as to render it immovable by the
shire, the body of a child about three tide.

years old was discovered, and imme- On Tuesday, February 1, the river
diately afterwards the body of its mother, presented a thoroughly solid surface over
She was the wife of a soldier of the 16th that part which extends from Blackfriars
regiment, returning home with her infant Bridge to some distance below Three
after accompanying her husband to the Crane Stairs, at the bottom of Queen-
place of embarkation. It was supposed street, Cheapside. The watermen placed
they had been a week in the snow. notices at the end of all the streets lead-

There was found lying in the road ing to the city side of the river, an-
leading from Longford to Upham, frozen nouncing a safe footway over, which
to death, a Mr. Apthorne, a grazier, at attracted immense crowds, and in a short
Coltsworth. He had left Hounslow at time thousands perambulated the rugged
dusk on Monday evening, after having plain, where a variety of amusements
drank rather freely, and proposed to go were provided. Among the more curious
that night to Marlow. of these was the ceremony of roasting a

On his return from Wakefield market, small sheep, or rather toasting or burning
Mr. Husband, of Holroyd Hall, was it over a coal fire, placed in a large iron
frozen to death, within little more than pan. For a view of this extraordinary
a hundred yards of the house of his spectacle, sixpence was demanded, and
nephew, with whom he resided. willingly paid. The delicate meat, when

Mr. Chapman, organist, and master of done, was sold at a shilling a slice, and
the central school at Andover, Hants, termed " Lapland mutton." There were
was frozen to death near Wallop, in that a great number of booths ornamented
county. with streamers, flags, and signs, and

A young man named Monk, while within them there was a plentiful store
driving a stage-coach near Ryegate, was of favourite luxuries with most of the
thrown off the box on a lump of frozen multitude, gin, beer, and gingerbread.
snow, and killed on the spot. The thoroughfare opposite Three Crane

Stairs was complete and well frequented.

The thermometer during this intense It was strewed with ashes, and afforded
frost was as low as 7 and 8 of Fahren- a very safe, although a very rough path,
heit, in the neighbourhood of London. Near Blackfriars Bridge, however, the
There are instances of its having been way was not equally severe ; a plumber,
lower in many seasons, but so long a named Davis, having imprudently ven-
continuance of very cold weather was tured to cross with some lead in his
never experienced in this climate within hands, sank between two masses of ice,
the memory of man. and rose no more. Two young women

nearly shared a similar fate; they were

4frOSt jf&UT 1814* rescued from their perilous situation by

the prompt efforts of two watermen.

On Sunday, the 30th of January, the Many a fair nymph indeed was em-
immense masses of ice that floated from braced in the icy arms of old Father
the upper parts of the river, in conse- Thames ; three young quakeresses had
quence of the thaw on the two preceding a sort of semi-bathing, near London
days, blocked up the Thames between Bridge, and when landed on terra-firma,
Blackfriars and London Bridges ; and made the best of their way through the
afforded every probability of its being Borough, amidst the shouts of an ad-
frozen over in a day or two. Some ad- miring populace. From the entire ob-
venturous persons even now walked on struction the tide did not appear to ebb
different parts, and on the next day, for some days more than one half the
Monday the 31st, the expectation was usual mark.

realized. During the whole of the after- On Wednesday, Feb. 2, the sports were
noon, hundreds of people were assembled repeated, and the Thames presented a
on Blackfriars and London Bridges, to complete " FROST FAIR." The grand
see people cross and recross the Thames " mall" or walk now extended from Black-
on the ice. Atone time seventy per- friars Bridge to London Bridge; this was
sons were counted walking from Queen- named the " City-road," and was lined
hithe to the opposite shore. The frost on each side by persons of all descriptions,
of Sunday night so united the vast Eight or ten printing presses were erected

Ill

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. JANUARY 22.

and numerous pieces commemorative of
the "great frost" were printed on the
ice. Some of these frosty typographers
displayed considerable taste in their spe-
cimens. At one of the presses, an orange-
coloured standard was hoisted, with the
tvatch-word " ORANGE BOVEW," in large
characters. This was in allusion to the
recent restoration of the stadtholder to
the government of Holland, which had
been for several years under the dominion
of the French. From this press the fol-
lowing papers were issued.

" FROST FAIR.

" Amidst the arts which on the THAMES ap-
pear,

To tell the wonders of this icy year,

PRINTING claims prior place, which at one
view

Erects a monument of THAT and You."

Another :

" You that walk here, and do design to tell
Your children's children what this year be-
fell,

Come, buy this print, and it will then be seen
That such a year as this has seldom been."

Another of these stainers of paper ad-
dressed the spectators in the following
terms , " Friends, now is your time to
support the freedom of the press. Can
the press have greater liberty ? here you
find it working in the middle of the
Thames ; and if you encourage us by
buying our impressions, we will keep it
going in the true spirit of liberty during
the frost." One of the articles printed
and sold contained the following lines :

" Behold, the river Thames is frozen o'er,
Which lately ships of mighty burden bore ;
Now different arts and pastimes here you see,
But printing claims the superiority."

The Lord's prayer and several other
pieces were issued from these icy printing
offices, and bought with the greatest
avidity.

On Thursday, Feb. 3, the number of
adventurers increased. Swings, book-
stalls, dancing in a barge, suttling-booths,
playing at skittles, and almost every ap-
pendage of a fair on land, appeared now on
the Thames. Thousands flocked to this
singular spectacle of sports and pastimes.
The ice seemed to be a solid rock, and
presented a truly picturesque appearance.
The view of St. Paul's and of the city
with the white foreground had a very sin-
gular effect ; in many parts, mountains
of ice upheaved resembled lhe rude in-
terior cf a stone quarry.

Friday, Feb. 4. Each day brought a,
fresh accession of " pedlars to sell their
wares; "and the greatest rubbisn of all
sorts was raked up and sold at double and
treble the original cost. Books and toys,
labelled " bought on the Thames," were
in profusion. The watermen profited
exceedingly, for each person paid a toll of
twopence or threepence before he was
admitted to " Frost Fair j" some douceur
was expected on the return. Some of
them were said to have taken six pounds
each in the course of a day.

This afternoon, about five o'clock, three
persons, an old man and two lads, were
on a piece of ice above London-bridge,
which suddenly detached itself from the
main body, and was carried by the tide
through one of the arches. They laid
themselves down for safety, and the
boatmen at Billingsgate, put off to their
assistance, and rescued them from their
impending danger. One of them was
able to walk, but the other two were car-
ried, in a state of insensibility, to a public-
house, where they received every atten-
tion their situation required.

Many persons were on the ice till late
at night, and the effect by moonlight was
singularly novel and beautiful. The bo-
som of the Thames seemed to rival the
frozen climes of the north.

Saturday, Feb. 5. This morning augured
unfavourably for the continuance of
"FROST FAIR." The wind had veered
to the south, and there was a light fall of
snow. The visitors, however, were not
to be deterred by trifles. Thousands
again ventured, and there was still much
life and bustle on the frozen element ; the
footpath in the centre of the river was
hard and secure, and among the pedes-
trians were four donkies ; they trotted a
nimble pace, and produced considerable
merriment. At every glance, there was a
novelty of some kind or other. Gaming
was carried on in all its branches. Many
of the itinerant admirers of the profits
gained by E O Tables, Rouge et Noir,
Te-totum, wheel of fortune, the garter,
&c. were industrious in their avocations,
and some of their customers left the lures
without a penny to pay the passage over
a plank to the shore. Skittles was played
by several parties, and the drinking tents
were filled by females and their compa-
nions, dancing reels to the sound of fid-
dles, while others sat round large fires,
drinking rum, grog, and other spirits.
Tea, coffee, and eatables, were provided

113

THE E VERY-DAY BOOK, JANUARY 22.

114

in abundance, and passengers were invited
to eat by way of recording their visit.
Several tradesmen, who at other times
were deemed respectable, attended with
their wares, and sold books, toys, and
trinkets of almost every description.

Towards the evening, the concourse
thinned ; rain began to fall, and the ice to
crack, and on a sudden it floated with
the printing presses, booths, and merry-
makers, to the no small dismay of pub-
licans, typographers, shopkeepers, and
sojourners.

A short time previous to the general
dissolution, a person near one of the
printing presses, handed the following
jeu d 'esprit to its conductor; request-
ing that it might be printed on the
Thames.

To Madam Tabitha Thaw.

" Dear dissolving dame,
" FATHER FROST and SISTER SNOW
have Boneyed my borders,- formed an idol
of ice upon my bosom, and all the LADS
OF LONDON come to make merry : now as
you love mischief, treat the multitude
with a few CRACKS by a sudden visit, and
obtain the prayers of the poor upon both
banks. Given at my own press, the 5th
Feb. 1814. THOMAS THAMES."

The thaw advanced more rapidly than
indiscretion and heedlessness retreated.
Two genteel-looking young men ven-
tured on the ice above Westminster
Bridge, notwithstanding the warnings of
the watermen. A large mass on which
they stood, and which had been loosened
by the flood tide, gave way, and they
floated down the stream. As they passed
under Westminster Bridge they cried
piteously for help. They had not gone
far before they sat down, near the edge ;
this overbalanced the mass, they were
precipitated into the flood, and over-
whelmed for ever.

A publican named Lawrence, of the
Feathers, in High Timber-street, Queen-
hithe, erected a booth on the Thames
opposite Brook's-wharf, for the accom-
modation of the curious. At nine at night
he left it in the care of two men, taking
away all the liquors, except some gin,
which he gave them for their own use.

Sunday, Feb. 6. At two o'clock this
morning, the tide began to flow with
great rapidity at London Bridge ; the
thaw assisted the efforts of the tide, and
the booth last mentioned was violently
hurried towards Blackfwars Bridge. There

were nine men in it, but in their alarm
they neglected the fire and candles, which
communicating with the covering, set it
in a flame. They succeeded in getting
into a lighter which had broken from its
moorings. In this vessel they were
wrecked, for it was dashed to pieces
against one of the piers of Blackfriars
Bridge : seven of them got on the pier
and were taken off safely ; the other two
got into a barge while passing Puddle-
dock.

On this day, the Thames towards high
tide (about 3 p. m.) presented a miniature
idea of the Frozen Ocean ; the masses of
ice floating along, added to the great
height of the water, formed a striking
scene for contemplation. Thousands of
disappointed persons thronged the banks ;
and many a 'prentice, and servant maid,
" sighed unutterable things," at the sud-
den and unlocked for destruction of
" FROST FAIR."

Monday, Feb. 7. Immense fragments
of ice yet floated, and numerous lighters,
broken from their moorings, drifted in
different parts of the river ; many of them
were complete wrecks. The frozen ele-
ment soon attained its wonted fluidity,
and old Father Thames looked as cheerful
and as busy as ever.

The severest English winter, however
astonishing to ourselves, presents no views
comparable to the winter scenery of more
northern countries. A philosopher and
poet of our own days, who has been also
a traveller, beautifully describes a lake in
Germany :

Christmas out of doors at Ratzburg.
By S. T. COLERIDGE, Esq

The whole lake is at this time one mass
of thick transparent ice, a spotless mirror
of nine miles in extent ! The lowness of
the hills, which rise from the shores of the
lake, preclude the awful sublimity of Al-
pine scenery, yet compensate for the want
of it, by beauties of which this very low-
ness is a necessary condition. Yesterday
I saw the lesser lake completely hidden
by mist ; but the moment the sun peeped
over the hill, the mist broke in the mid-
dle, and in a few seconds stood divided,
leaving a broad road all across the lake;
and between these two walls of mist the
sunlight burnt upon the ice, forming a
road of golden fire, intolerably bright!
and the mist walls themselves partook of

115

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. JANUARY 22.

116

the blaze in a multitude of shining co-
lours. This is our second post. About a
month ago, before the thaw came on,
there was a storm of wind ; -during the
whole night, such were the thunders and
howlings of the breaking ice, that they
have left a conviction on my mind, that
there are sounds more sublime than any
sight can be, more absolutely suspending
the power of comparison, and more utterly
absorbing the mind's self-consciousness in
its total attention to the object working
upon it Part of the ice, which the vehe-
mence of the wind had shattered, was
driven shoieward, and froze anew. On
the evening of the next day at sunset, the
shattered ice thus frozen appeared of a
deep blue, and in shape like an agitated
sea ; beyond this, the water that ran up
between the great islands of ice which
had preserved their masses entire and
smooth, shone of a yellow green ; but all
these scattered ice islands themselves were
of an intensely bright blood colour they
seemed blood and light in union ! On
some of the largest of these islands, the
fishermen stood pulling out their immense
nets through the holes made in the ice for
this purpose, and the men, their net poles,
and their huge nets, were a part of the
glory say rather, it appeared as if the rich
crimson light had shaped itself into these
forms, figures, and attitudes, to make a
glorious vision in mockery of earthly
things.

The lower lake is now all alive with
skaters and with ladies driven onward
by them in their ice cars. Mercury surely
was the first maker of skates, and the
wings at his feet are symbols of the in-
vention. In skating, there are three pleas-
ing circumstances the infinitely subtle
particles of ice which the skaters cut up,
and which creep and run before the skate
like a low mist and in sunrise or sunset
become coloured ; second, the shadow of
the skater in the "water, seen through the
transparent ice ; and third, the melan-
choly undulating sound from the skate
not without variety ; and when very many
are skating together, the sounds and the
noises give an impulse to the icy trees,
and the woods all round the lake trinkte.

In the frosty season when the sun
Was set, and visible for many a mile,
The cottage windows through the twilight
blazed,

heeded not the summons ; happy time

It was indeed for all of us, to me
It was a time of rapture ! clear and loud
The village clock tolled six ! I wheel'd about
Proud and exulting, like an untired horse
That cared not for its home. All shod with

steel

We hissed along the polished ice, in games
Confederate, imitative of the chase
And woodland pleasures, the resounding

horn,
The pack loud bellowing and the hunted

hare.
So through the darkness and the cold we

flew,

And not a voice was idle ; with the din,
Meanwhile the precipices rang aloud,
The leafless trees and every icy crag
Tinkled like iron, while the distant hills
Into the tumult sent an alien sound
Of melancholy not unnoticed, while the

stars
Eastward, were sparkling clear, and in the

west
The orange sky of evening died away.

Not seldom from the uproar I retired
Into a silent bay, or sportively
Glanced sideway, leaving the tumultuous

throng

To cut across the image of a star
That gleamed upon the ice ; and oftentimes
Where we had given our bodies to the wind,
And all the shadowy banks on either side
Came sweeping through the darkness, shun-
ning still

The rapid line of motion, then at once
Have I, reclining back upon my heels,
Stopped short ; yet still the solitary cliffs
Wheeled by me even as if the earth had

rolled

With visible motion her diurnal round !
Behind me did they stretch in solemn

train
Feebler and feebler, and I stood and

watched
Till all was tranquil as a summer sea.

Wordsworth.

The earliest notice of skating in Eng-
land is obtained from the earliest descrip-
tion of London. Its historian relates
that, " when the great fenne or moore
(which watereth the walles of the citie on
the north side) is frozen, many young
men play upon the yce." Happily, and
probably for want of a term to call it by,
he describes so much of this pastime in
Moorfields, as acquaints us with their
mode of skating : " Some," he says,
" stryding as wide as they may, doe slide
swiftly," this then is sliding ; but he pro-
ceeds to tell us, that " some tye bones to

117

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. JANUARY 23.

118

their feete, and under their heeles, and
shoving themselves by a little picked
staffe doe slide as swiftly as a birde flyeth
in the air, or an arrow out of a crosse-
bow."* Here, although the implements
were rude, we have skaters ; and it seems
that one of their sports was for two to
start a great way off opposite to each
other, and when they met, to lift their
poles and strike each other, when one or
both fell, and were carried to a distance
from each other by the celerity of their
motion. Of the present wooden skates,
shod with iron, there is no doubt, we ob-
tained a knowledge from Holland.

The icelanders also used the shank-
bone of a deer or sheep about a foot long,
which they greased, because they should
not be stopped by drops of water upon
them, f

It is asserted in the " Encyclopaedia
Britannica," that Edinburgh produced
more instances of elegant skaters than
perhaps any other country, and that the
institution of a skating club there contri-
buted to its improvement. " I have
however seen, some years back," says
Mr. Strutt, " when the Serpentine river
was frozen over, four gentlemen there
dance, if I may be allowed the expression,
a double minuet in skates with as much
ease, and I think more elegance, than in
a ball room ; others again, by turning and
winding with much adroitness, have rea-
dily in succession described upon the ice
the form of all the letters in the alphabet."
The same may be observed there during
every frost, but the elegance of skaters on
that sheet of water is chiefly exhibited in
quadrilles, which some parties go through
with a beauty scarcely imaginable by
those who have not seen graceful skating.
In variety of attitude, and rapidity of
movement, the Dutch, who, of" necessity,
(journey long distances on their rivers and
canals, are greatly our superiors.

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature ... 36 35.

Sanuarp 23.

1826. Hilary Term begins.

LARKING.

It appears that our ingenious neigh-
bours, the French, are rivalled by the
lark-catchers of Dunstaple, in the mode
of attracting those birds.

To the Editor of the Every-Day Book.

6, Bermondsey New Road-
Sir, January 18, 1826.

In the present volume of your Every-
Day Book, p. 93, a correspondent at Ab-
beville has given an account of lark-
shooting in that country, in which he
mentions a machine called a miroir, as
having been used for the purpose of at-
tracting the birds within shot. Perhaps
you are not aware that in many parts of
England a similar instrument is employed
for catching the lark when in flight, and at
Dunstaple. At that place, persons go
out with what is called a larking glass,
which is, if I may so term it, a machine
made somewhat in the shape of a cucum-
ber. This invention is hollow, and has
holes cut round it, in which bits of look-
ing-glass are fitted ; it is fixed on a pole,
and has a sort of reel, from which a line
runs; this line, at a convenient distance, is
worked backward and forward, so as to
catch the rays of the sun : the larks seeing
themselves in the glass, as some think,
but more probably blinded by the glare
of it, come headlong down to it, a net is
drawn over them, and thus many are
taken, deceived like ourselves with glit-
tering semblances. Yes ! lords as we deem
ourselves of the creation, we are as easily
lured by those who bait our passions or
propensities, as those poor birds. This
simple truth I shall conclude with the fol-
lowing lines,, which, be they good, bad,
or indifferent, are my own, and such as
they are I give them to thee :

As in the fowler's glass the lark espies

His feath'ry form from 'midst unclouded skies;

And pleased, and dazzled with the novel sight,

Wings to the treacherous earth his rapid flight.

So, in the glass of self conceit we view

Our soul's attraction, and pursue it too,

* Fitzstephen.

* Fosbroke's Diet, of Antiquities.

119 THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. JANUARY 24, 25. 12C

In every shape wherein it may arise,

In gold, or land, or love before our eyes.

And in the wary net are captive ta'en,

By the sure hand of woman, or of gain. S. R. Jackson.

Samiarp 24.

The scenes and weather which some-

r'ATURALiSTs' CALENDAR. times prevail on the Vigil of St. Paul
M- an Temperature ... 36 57. are described in some verses inserted
by Dr. Forster in his " Perennial Ca-
lendar."

St. Pants Eve.

Winter's white shrowd doth cover all the grounde,

And Caecias blows his bitter blaste of woe ;
The ponds and pooles, and streams in ice are bounde,

And famished birds are shivering in the snowe.
Still round about the house they flitting goe,

And at the windows seek for scraps of foode
Which Charity with hand profuse doth throwe,

Right weeting that in need of it they stoode,
For Charity is shown by working creatures' goode.

The sparrowe pert, the chaffinche gay and cleane,

The redbreast welcome to the cotter's house,
The livelie blue tomtit, the oxeye greene,

The dingie dunnock, and the swart colemouse ;
The titmouse of the marsh, the nimble wrenne,

The bullfinch and the goldspinck, with the king
Of birds the goldcrest. The thrush, now and then.

The blackbird, wont to whistle in the spring,
Like Christians seek the heavenlie foode St. Paul doth bring.

the origin of this custom, is stated by Stow

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR. to the following purport.

Mean Temperature ... 36 60. Mentioning the opinion already noticed,

which, strange to tell, has been urged

P ever s i nce his time, he says in its refuta-

J tiorl) But true it i s i have read an

Conversion of St. Paul* ancient deed to this effect," and the " ef-

This Romish festival was first adopted f ect" is, that in 1274, the dean and chapter

by the church of England in the year of St - P aul s granted twenty-two acres of

1662, during the reign of Charles II. nd, part of their manor of Westley, in

<, p ^ r> Essex, to sir William Baud, knt., for the

T. AULS AY. purpose of being enclosed by him within

Buck and Doe in St. Paul's Cathedral. his park of Curingham ; in consideration

Formerly a buck's head was carried in whereof he undertook to bring to them on

procession at St. Paul's Cathedral. This the feast day of the Conversion of St. Paul,

by some antiquaries is presumed to have in winter, a good doe, seasonable and

been the continuation of a ceremony in sweet; and upon the feast of the comme-

more ancient times when, according to moration of St. Paul in summer, a good

certain accounts, a heathen temple existed buck, and offer the same to be spent (or

on that site. It is remarkable that this divided) among the canons resident ; the

notion as to the usage is repeated by wri- doe to be brought by one man at the hour

ters whose experience in other respects of procession, and through the procession

has obtained them v/ell-earned regard : to the high altar, and the bringer to have

nothing ; the buck to be brought by all

* See vol. i. p. 175. his men in like manner, and they to be

121

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. JANUARY 26.

122

paid twelve pence only, by the chamber-
lain of the church, and no more to be re-
quired. For the performance of this
annual present of venison, he charged his
lands and bound his heirs; and twenty
seven years afterwards, his son, sir Walter,
confirmed the grant.

The observance of this ceremony, as to
the buck, was very curious, and in this
manner. On the aforesaid feast-day of
the commemoration, the buck being
brought up to the steps of the high altar
in St. Paul's church at the hour of proces-
sion, and the dean and chapter being ap-
parelled in their copes and vestments,
with garlands of roses on their heads, they
sent the body of the buck to be baked;
and having fixed the head on a pole,
caused it to be borne before the cross in
their procession within the church, until
they issued out of the west door. There
the keeper that brought it blew " the
death of the buck/' and then the homers
that were about the city answered him in
like manner. .For this the dean and
chapter gave each man fourpence in
money and his dinner, and the keeper that
brought it was allowed during his abode
there, meat, drink and lodging, at the dean
and chapter's charges, and five shillings in
money at his going away, together with a
loaf of bread, with the picture of St. Paul
on it. It appears also that the granters of
the venison presented to St. Paul's ca-
thedral two special suits of vestments, to
be worn by the clergy on those two
days; the one being embroidered with
bucks, and the other with does.

The translator of Dupre's work on the
"Conformity between modern and ancient
ceremonies," also misled by other autho-
rities, presumed that the " bringing up a
fat buck to the altar of St. Paul's with
hunters, horns blowing, &c. in the middle
of divine service," was of heathen deriva-
tion, whereas we see it was only a provi-
sion for a venison feast by the Romish
clergy, in return for some waste land of
one of their manors.

NATURALIST'S CALENDAR.
Mean Temperatare . . .35 -10.

Sanuarp 26.

" St. George hf was for England".

So says a well-known old ballad, and
we are acquainted, by the following com-
munication, that our patron saint still

appears in England, through his personal
representatives, at this season of the year.

To the Editor of the Every-Day Book.
Sir,

I send you an account of the Christ-
mas drama of " St. George," as acted in
Cornwall, subscribing also my name and
address, which you properly deem an in-
dispensable requisite. I thereby vouch
for the authenticity of what I send you.
Having many friends arid relations in the
west, at whose houses I have had fre-
quent opportunities of seeing the festi-
vities and mixing in the sports of their
farm, and other work-people, at the joy-
ous times of harvest home, finishing the
barley mow, (of which more hereafter it
agreeable,) Christmas, &c. In some of
the latter it is still customary for the mas-
ter of the house and his guests to join at
the beginning of the evening, though this
practice, I am sorry to say, is gradually
wearing out, and now confined to a few
places. I have " footed if away in sir
Roger de Coverley, the hemp-dressers,&c.
(not omitting even the cushion dance,)
with more glee than I ever slided through
the chaine anglaise, or demi-queue de chat,
and have formed acquaintance with the
master of the revels, or leader of the pa-
rish choir, (generally a shrewd fellow,
well versed in song,) in most of the
western parishes in Cornwall ; and from
them have picked up much information
on those points, which personal observa-
tion alone had not supplied to my satis-
faction.

You may be sure that "St. George"
with his attendants were personages too
remarkable not to attract much of my at-
tention, and I have had their adventures
represented frequently ; from different
versions so obtained, I am enabled to
state that the performances in different
parishes vary only in a slight degree from
each other.

St. George and the other tragic per-
formers are dressed out somewhat in the
style of morris-dancers, in their shirt-
sleeves, and white trowsers much deco-
rated with ribands and handkerchiefs,
each carrying a drawn sword in his hand,
if they can be procured, otherwise a cud-
gel. They wear high caps of paste-
board, adorned with beads, small pieces
of looking-glass, coloured paper, &c. ; se-
veral long strips of pith generally hang
down fiom the top, with small pieces

123

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. JANUARY 26.

124

of different coloured cloth, strung on them :
f he whole has a very smart effect.

Father Christmas is personified in a
grotesque manner, as an ancient man,
wearing a large mask and wig, and a
huge club, wherewith he keeps the by-
standers in order.

The doctor, who is generally the merry-
andrew of the piece, is dressed in any ri-
diculous way, with a wig, three-cornered
hat, and painted face.

The other comic characters are dressed
according to fancy.

The female, where there is one, is
usually in the dress worn half a century
ago.

The hobby-horse, which is a character
sometimes introduced, wears a represent-
ation of a horse's hide.

Besides the regular drama of " St.
George," many parties of mummers go
about in fancy dresses of every sort, most
commonly the males in female attire, and
vice versa.

This Christmas play, it appears, is, or
was in vogue also in the north of Eng-
land as well as in Scotland. A corres-
pondent of yours (Mr. Reddock) has al-
ready given an interesting account of
that in Scotland, and a copy of that acted
at Newcastle, printed there some thirty or
forty years since, is longer than any
I have seen in the west. By some the
play is considered to have reference to
the time of the crusades, and to have
been introduced on the return of the ad-
venturers from the Holy- Land, as typify-
ing their battles. Before proceeding with
our drama in the west, I have merely to
observe that the old fashion was to conti-
nue many of the Christmas festivities till
Candlemas-day, (February 2,) and then
" throw cards and candlesticks away.''
Battle of St. George.

[ One of the party steps in, crying out
" Room, a room, brave gallants, room,

Within this court

I do resort,

To show some sport

And pastime,

Gentlemen and ladies, in the Christmas
time

[After this note of preparation, old
Father Christmas capers into the room,
saying,

Here comes I, old Father Christmas,
Welcome, or welcome not,

I hope old Father Christmas
Will never be forgot.

I was born in a rocky country, where
there was no wood to make me a cradle ;
I was rocked in a stouring bowl, which
made me round shouldered then, and I
am round shouldered still.

[He then frisks about the room, until he
thinks he has sufficiently amused the
spectators, when he makes his exit
with this speech,

Who went to the orchard, to steal
apples to make gooseberry pies against
Christmas ?

[These prose speeches, you may suppose,
depend much upon the imagination of
the actor.

Enter Turkish Knight.
Here comes I, a Turkish knight,
Come from the Turkish land to fight,
And if St.. George do meet me here
I'll try his courage without fear.

Enter St. George.
Here comes I, St. George ;

that worthy champion bold,
And, with my sword and spear,

I won three crowns of gold.
I fought the dragon bold,

and brought him to the slaughter,
By that I gained fair Sabra,

the king of Egypt's daughter.
T. K. Saint George, I pray be not too

bold,
If thy blood is hot, I'll soon make it

cold.
St. G. Thou Turkish knight, I pray

forbear,

I'll make thee dread my swor^J and spear.

[They fight until the T. knight falls.

St. G. I have a little bottle, which goes

by the name of Elicumpane,
If the man is alive let him rise and fight

again.

[The knight here rises on one knee, and
endeavours to continue the fight, but
is again struck down.
T. K. Oh ! pardon me, St. George, oh !

pardon me I crave.
Oh ! pardon me this once, and I will be

thy slave.
St. G. I'll never pardon a Turkish

Knight,
Therefore arise, and try thy might.

[The knight gets up, and they again
fight, till the knight receives a heavy
blow, and then drops on the ground
as dead.
St. G. Is there a doctor to be found,

To cure a deep and deadly wound ?

125

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. JANUARY 27.

126

hare

Enter Doctor.

Oh ! yes, there is a doctor to be found,
To cure a deep and deadly wound.
St. G. What can you cure ?
Doctor. I can cure the itch, the palsy,

and gout,
If the devil's in him, I'll pull him out.

[ The Doctor here performs the cure with
sundry grimaces, and St. George and
the Knight again fight, lohen the
latter is knocked down, and left for
dead.

(Then another performer enters, and on
seeing the dead body, says,

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust,
If uncle Tom Pearce won't
Aunt Molly must.

[The hobby-horse here capers
takes off the body.

Enter Old Squire.
Here comes I, old, old squire,
As black as any friar,
As ragged as a colt,
To leave fine clothes for malt.

Enter Hub Bub.

Here comes I old Hub Bub Bub Bub,
Upon my shoulders I carries a club,
And in my hand a frying pan,
So am not I a valiant man.

[These characters serve as a sort oj
burlesque on St. George and the
other hero, and may be regarded in
the light of an anti-masque.

Enter the Box-holder.
Here comes I, great head and little wit,
Put your hand in your pocket and give

what you think fit.
Gentlemen and ladies, sitting down at

your ease,
Put your hands in your pocket*, give me

what you please.
St. G. Gentlemen and Ladier. the sport

is almost ended,

Come pay to the box, it is highly com-
mended.
The box it would speak, if it had *Hit a

tongue ;
Come throw in your money, and think U

no wrong.

The characters now generally finish
with a dance, or sometimes a song or two
is introduced. In some of the performances,
two or three other tragic heroes are brought
forward, as the king of Egypt and his

son, &c. ; but they are all of them much
in the style of that I have just described,
varying somewhat in length and number
of characters.

I am, Sir,

Your constant reader,

W. S.

NATURALISTS CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature . . . 36 20.

Sfattuarp 27

WEIGHTS AND MEASURES.

1826. The alteration of the standard
this year, in order to its uniformity
throughout the kingdom, however incon-
venient to individuals in its first applica-
tion, will be ultimately of the highest
public advantage. The difference between
beer, wine, corn, and coal measure, and
the difference of measures of the same
denomination in different counties, were
occasions of fraud and grievance without
remedy until the present act of parlia-
ment commenced to operate. In the
twelfth year of Henry VII. a standard was
established, and the table was kept in the
treasury of the king's exchequer, with
drawings on it, commemorative of the re-
gulation, and illustrating its principles.
The original document passed into the
collection of the liberal Harley, earl of
Oxford, and there being a print of it with
some of its pictorial representations, an
engraving is here given of the mode of
trial which it exhibits as having been used
in khe exchequer at that period.

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK JANUARY 27.

123

Crial of 2i2Refgl)ts anU

untor feenrp VII.

From the same instrument is also taken
the smaller diagram. They are curious
specimens of the care used by our ances-
tors to establish and exemplify rules by
which all purchases and sales were to be
effected. In that view only they are in-
troduced here. Conformity to the new
stand "i rd is every man's business and in-

terest, and daily experience will prove it ?
wisdom and justice. It would be obvi-
ously inexpedient to state any of the par-
liamentary provisions in this work, which
now merely records one of the most re-
markable and laudable acts in tne nistory
of oxir legislation.

129

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. JANUARY 28.

ISO

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature ... 37 82.

Sfanuarj) 28,

An Appearance of the Season.
Apology will scarcely be required

introducing a character, who at this sea-
son of the year comes forth in renovated
honours, and may aptly be termed one oi
its evcr-blues

for

" The great image of authority !"

Shakspeare.

not a peculiar of either Farnngdons, nor
him of Cripplegate, or St. Giles in the
Fields, or of any ward or precinct within
the bills : not this or that " good man"
nut the universal parish beadle. " How
Christmas and consolatory he looks ! how
redolent of good cheer is he ! He is a
cornucopia an abundance. What pud-
ding sleeves! what a collar, ted, and
like a beef steak, is his ! He is a walk-
VOL. IT. 57

ing refreshment ! He looks like a whole
parish, full, important but untaxed.
The children of charity gaze at him with
a modest smile. The straggling boys
look on him with confidence. They do
not pocket their marbles. They do not
fly from their familiar gutter. This is a
red-letter day ; and the cane is reserved
for to-morrow."

For thft pleasant verbal descrip.

131

THE E VERY-DAY BOOK. JANUARY

132

lion we are indebted to an agreeable
writer in the " London Magazine j"* his
corporal lineaments are " borrowed"
(with permission) from a new caricature,f
if it may be given so low a name, wherein
this figure stands out, the very gem and
jewel, in a grouping of characters of all
sorts and denominations assembled with
" infinite fancy" and "fun," to illustrate
the designer's views of the age. It is
a graphic satire of character rather than
caricatura; mostly of class-characters,
not persons ; wherein the ridicule bears
heavily, but is broad and comprehensive
enough to shift from one neighbour to
another.

The print, wherein our beadle is fore-
most, though not first, is one of the plea-
santest " drolls " of the century, and seems
to hit at all. that is. In this whimsical
representation, a painted show-board,
at the window of a miserable garret, de-
clares it to be " The Office of the Peru-
vian Mining Company." On the case-
ment of the first floor, in the same here-
ditament of poverty, is a bill of " Eligant
rooms to let." Wigs in the shop-win-
dow illustrate the punning announcement
above it " Nature improved by Rickets,"
which is the name of the proprietor, a
capital barber, who stands at the door,
and points to a ragged inscription de-
pending from the parti-coloured pole of
his art, from whence we* learn that " No-
body is to be s( )aved during di( )ine
service, by command of the magistracy."
He enforces attention to this fact on an
unshaved itinerant, with " Subscription for
putting down Bartlemy fair" placarded on
his back. This fellow has a pole in his
right hand for "The preservation of public
morals," and a puppet of punch lolling
from his left coat pocket. An apple-stall
is taken care of by a fat body with a
screaming child, whose goods appear to
be coveted by two little beings untutored
in the management of the eye. We
gather from the "New Times," on the
ground, that the fruit woman is Sarah
Crumpage, and that she and Rickets, the
former for selling fruit, and the latter for
shaving on the Sunday, " were convicted

* For 1 December, 1825.

+ The Progress of Cant ; designed and etched
by one. of the authors of "Odes and Addresses to
threat People ;" and published by T. Maclean,
irlayniarket, L. Relfe, Cornhill, and Dickenson,
New Bond-street.

on the oath of the notorious Johnson, and
fined ten shillings each." Next to the
barber's is " the Star eating-house," with
" Ladies School " on the first-floor case-
ment, and " Mangleing took in/' At the
angle of the penthouse roofs of these
dwellings " an angel's head in stone with
pigeon's wings" deceives a hungry cat
into an attempt to commit an assault
upon it from the attic window. Opposite
the cook's door an able-bodied waggoner,
with a pennon from his whip, inscribed
" Knowledge is Power," obscures part of
another whereon all that remains is
" NICK'S INSTITUTION." A " steeled but-
cher," his left hand resting at ease within
his apron, cleaver hung, and carelessly
capped, with a countenance indicating no
other spirit than that of the still, and no
disposition to study deeper than the bot-
tom of a porter pot, carries the flag of the
" London University : " a well-fed urchin,
his son, hangs by his father's sleeve, and
drags along a wheeled toy, a lamb em-
blem of many a future " lamb his riot
dooms to bleed." A knowing little Jew-
boy, with the flag of the " Converted
Jews," relieves the standard-bearer of the
" School for Adults" from the weight of
his pocket handkerchief, and his banner
hides the letter " d" on another borne by
a person of uneven temper in canonicals,
and hence for "The Church in danger,"
we read " The Church in anger." Close
at the heels of the latter is an object al-
most as miserable, as the exceedingly mi-
serable figure in the frontispiece to the
" Miseries of Human Life." This rear-
ward supporter of " the church in dan-
ger," alias in " anger," is a poor, under-
sized, famine-worn, badged charity boy,
with a hat abundantly too large for its
hydrocephalic contents, and a coat to his
heels, and in another person's shoes, a
world too wide for his own feet he carries
a crooked little wand with " No Po-
pery "on it; this standard is so low, that
it would be lost if the standard-bearer
were not away from the procession. A
passionate person in a barrister's wig,
with a shillelagh, displays " Catholic
Claims." Opposite to a church partly
built, is a figure clearly designating
a distinguished preacher of the established
church of Scotland in London, planting
the tallest standard in the scene upright
on the ground, from whence is unfurled
" No Theatre" the flag-bearer of " The
Caledonian Chapel," stands behind, in the
act of tossing up a halfpenny with the

133

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. JANUARY 28.

134

standard bearer of " No more State Lot-
teries." A black mask bears the " Liberty
of the Press." A well-fed man with
bands beneath his chin, rears a high pole,
inscribed " No fat Livings," and " The
cause of Greece" follows. A jovial un-
dertaker in his best grave-clothes, raises a
mute's staff, and " No Life in London :"
this character looks as if he would bury
his wife comfortably in a country church-
yard, get into the return-hearse with his
companions, and crack nuts and drink
wine all the way to town. A little per-
sonage, booted and buttoned up, carries a
staff in his pocket, surmounted by a crown,
and a switch to his chin, the tip whereof
alone is visible, his entire face and head
being wholly concealed by the hat ; this
_s " The great Unknown" he has close
behind him " Gall and Spurs-him." " No
Treadmill" is exhibited by a merry rogue,
half disarmed, with a wooden leg. At a
public house, " The Angel and Punch
Bowl, T. Moore," the " United Sons of
Harmony" hold wassail ; their flag is hung
at one of the windows, from whence many
panes are absent, and themselves are
righting at the door, and heartily cheered
by the standard bearer of <( No Pugilism."
A ferocious looking fellow, riding on a
blind horse, elevates " Martin for Ever,"
and makes cruel cuts with his whip on the
back of a youth who is trying to get up
behind him with the banner of " No
climbing Boys." We are now at a corner
messuage, denominated " Prospect House
Establishment for Young Ladies, by the
Misses Grace and Prudence Gregory."
The corner opposite is " Seneca House
Academy for Young Gentlemen, by Dr.
Alex. Sanderson." Prospect House has
an " Assurance" policy, and from one
of its windows one of the " young ladies"
drops a work by " H. More" in eager
regard of one of the " young gentlemen" of
Seneca-house, who addresses her from his
room, with a reward of merit round his
neck. This Romeoing is rendered more
scenical by a tree, whereon hangs a lost
kite, papered with a " Prospectus" of
Seneca-house, from whence it appears
that pupils bringing a " knife and fork,"
and paying "Twenty Guineas per ann.,"
are entitled to " Universal Erudition,"
and the utmost attention to their " Morals
and Principles." Near this place, the
representative of " United Schools" fells
to the earth the flag-bearer of " Peace to
the World ;" while the able supporter of
" Irish Conciliation/' endeavours to settle

the difference by the powerful use of his
pole; the affray being complacently
viewed by a half-shod, and half-kilted
maintainev of " Scotch Charity.'' A
demure looking girl is charged with
" Newgatory Instruction." At her elbow,
a female of the order of disorder, so
depicted that Hogarth might claim her for
his own, upholds " Fry for ever,*' and is
in high, converse with a sable friend who
keeps " Freedom for the Blacks." Hope-
less idiocy, crawling on its knees by the
aid of crutches, presents the " March of
Mind." An excellent slippered fruiterer
with a tray of apples and pears, beguiles
the eyes of a young Gobbleton, who dis-
plays " Missionary penny subscriptions,"
and is suffering his hand to abstract
wherewithal for the satisfaction of his
longings. Here too are ludicrous repre-
sentations of the supporters of " White-
field and Wesley," Reform," &c. and a
Jewish dealer in old clothes, covered in du-
plicate, with the pawnbroker's sign upside
down,finds wind for "The Equitable Loan."
A wall round Seneca-house is " contrived a
double debt to pay" proffering seem-
ing security to the " sightless eyeballs" of
over-fond and over-fearful parents, and
being of real use to the artist for the ex-
pression of ideas, which the crowding of
his scene does not leave room to picture.
This wall is duly chalked and covered by
bills in antithesis. A line of the chalkings,
by an elision easily supplied, reads, "'Ask
for War." One of the best exhibitions in the
print is a youth of the "Tract Society , "with
a pamphlet entitled "Eternity," so rolled
as to look like a pistol,which he tenders to a
besotted brute wearing candidates' favours
in his hat, and a scroll f{ Purity of Elec-
tion." The villainous countenance of the
intoxicated wretch is admirable a cudgel
under his arm, his tattered condition, and
a purse hanging from his pocket, tell that
he has been in fight, and received the
wages of his warfare ; in the last stage of
drunkenness he drops upon a post inscrib-
ed "under Government." Among books
strewed on the ground are "Fletcher's Ap-
peal," "Family Shakspeare," " Hohen-
lohe," &c. ; at the top is a large volume
lettered " Kant," which, in such a situa-
tion, Mr. Wirgman, and other disciples
of the German philosopher,will only quai-
rel or smile at, in common with all who
conceive their opinions or intentions mis-
represented. In truth it is only because
the print is already well known among
the few lynx-eyed observers of manneis

i35

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. JANUARY 29.

130

that this notice is drawn up. Its satire,
however well directed in many ways, is
too sweeping to be just every way, and
is in several instances wholly undeserved.
The designer gives evidence however of
great capability, and should he execute
another it will inevitably be better than
this, which is, after all, an extraordi-
nary production. In witness whereof,
and therefrom, is extracted and prefixed
the " Beadle" hereinbefore mentioned.

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature ... 36 37.

29.

1826. Sexageslma Sunday.

Accession of George IV.

1820. King George III. died. A con-
temporary kalendarian, in recording this
memorable fact, observes, that " the slow
and solemn sound of St. Paul's bell an-
nounced the event a short time after, and
was heard to a great distance around the
country." He adds, that he was remind-
ed, by this " mournful proclamation of
departed royalty," of the following lines
in Heywood's " Rape of Lucrece,"
written to go to a funeral peal from eight
hells ;

Come list and hark, the bell doth *oll
For some but now departing soul,
Whom even now those ominous fowle,
The bat, the nightjar, or screech owl,
Lament ; hark 1 I hear the wilde wolfe

howle

In this black night that seems to scowle,
All these my black book shall euscrole.
For hark ! still still the bell doth toll
For some but now departing soul.

This opportunity the same agreeable
writer improves to discourse on, thus :

Bells.

The passing bell owes its origin to an
idea of sanctity attached to bells by the
early Catholics, who believed that the
sound of these holy instruments of per-
cussion actually drove the devil away
from the soul of the departing Christian.
Bells were moreover regarded formerly as
dispelling storms, and appeasing the ima-
gined wrath of heaven, as the following-
liens from Barnaby Googe will show :

If that the thunder chaunee to rore

and stormie tempest shake,
A woonder is it for to see

the wretches howe they quake,
Howe that no fayth at all they have,

nor trust in any thing,
The clarke doth all the belles forthwith

at once in steeple ring :
With wondrous sound and deeper farre

than he was woont before,
Till in the loftie heavens darke,

the thunder bray no more.
For in these christned belles they thinke,

doth lie such powre and might
As able is the tempest great,

and storme to vanquish quight.
I saw myself at Numburg once,

a towne in Toring coast,
A bell that with this title bolde

hirself did prowdly boast:
By name I Mary called am,

with sound I put to flight
The thunder crackes, and hurtfull stormes,

and every wicked spright.
Such things when as these belles can do,

no wonder certainlie
It is, if that the papistes to

their tolling always flie,
When haile, or any raging storme,

or tempest comes in sight,
Or thunder boltes, or lightning fierce,

that every place doth smight.

Naogeorgus,

We find from Brand, that " an old
bell at Canterbury required twenty-four
men, and another thirty-two men, ad so-
nandum. The noblest peal of ten bells,
without exception, in England, whether
tone or tune be considered, is said to be
in St. Margaret's church, Leicester.
When a full peal was rung, the ringers
were said pulsare classicum.' "

Bells were a great object of supersti -
tion among our ancestors. Each of them
was represented to have its peculiar name
and virtues, and many are said to have
retained great affection for the churches
to which they belonged, and where they
were consecrated. When a bell was re-
moved from its original and favourite si-
tuation, it was sometimes supposed to
take a nightly trip to its old place of re-
sidence, unless exercised in the evening,
and secured with a chain or rope. Mr
Wainer, in his " Hampshire," enume-
rates the virtues of a bell, by translating
two lines from the " Helpe to Discourse."

Men's deaths I tell by doleful knell.
Lightning and thunder I break asunder.
On sabbath all to church I call.

137

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. JANUARY 29.

138

The sleepy head 1 raise from bed.
The winds so fierce I doe disperse.
Men's cruel rage I do asswage.

There is an old Wiltshire legend of
a tenor bell having been conjured into
the river; with lines by the ringer, who
lost it through his pertinacious garrulity,
and which say :

In spite of all the devils in hell

Here comes our old Bell.*

Baron Hoi berg says he was in a com-
pany of men of letters, where several con-
jectures were offered concerning the origin
of the word campana ; a klocke, (i. e. bell)
in the northern tongues. On his return
home, he consulted several writers. Some,
he says, think the word klocke to be of
the northern etymology ; these words, Ut
cloca habeatur in ecclesia, occurring in the
most ancient histories of the north. It ap-
pears from hence, that in the infancy of
Christianity, the word cloca was used in
the north instead of campana. Certain
french writers derive the word cloca from
cloche, and this again from docker, i. e.
to limp ; for, say they, as a person who
limps, falls from one side to the other, so
do klocks (bells) when rung. Some have
recourse to the latin word clangor, others
recur to the greek /coAew, I call; some
even deduce it from the word cochlea, a
snail, from the resemblance of its shell to
a bell. As to the latin word campana, it
was first used in Italy, at Nola in Cam-
pania; and it appears that the greater
bells only were called campana, and the
lesser nola. The invention of them is
generally attributed to bishop Paulinus ;
but this certainly must be understood
only of the religious use of them ; it being
plain, from Roman writers, that they had
the like machines called tintinnabula.

The use of bells continued long un-
known in the east, the people being called
to public worship by strokes of wooden
hammers ; and to this day the Turks pro-
claim the beginning of their service, by
vociferations from the steeple. Anciently

* Dr. Forster's Perennial Calendar.

priests themselves used to toll the bell,
especially in cathedrals and great
churches, and these were distinguished by
the appellation of campanarii. The
Roman Catholics christen their bells, and
godfathers assist at the solemnity ; thus
consecrating them to religious use. Ac
cording to Helgaudus, bells had certain
names given them like men ; and Ingul-
phus says, " he ordered two great clocks
(bells) to be made, which were called
Bartholomeus and Bettelinus, and two
lesser, Pega and Bega." The time is
perhaps uncertain when the hours first
began to be distinguished by the striking
of a bell. In the empire this custom is
said to have been introduced by a priest
of Ripen, named Elias, who lived in the
twelfth century ; and this the Chronicon
Anonymi Ripense says of him, hie dies et
horas campanarum pulsatione distinxt*.
The use of them soon became extended
from their original design to other solem-
nities, and especially burials : which in-
cessant tolling has long been complained
of as a public nuisance, and to this the
french poet alludes :
Pour honorer les morts, ils font mourir les
vivans.

Besides the common way of tolling
bells, there is also ringing, which is a kind
of chimes used on various occasions in
token of joy. This ringing prevails in no
country so much as in England, where it
is a kind of diversion, and, for a piece of
money, any one may have a peal. On
this account it is, that England is called
the ringing island. Chimes are some-
thing very different, and much more mu-
sical ; there is not a town in all the Nether-
lands without them, being an invention of
that country. The chimes at Copenhagen,
are one of the finest sets in all Europe ;
but the inhabitants, from a pertinacious
fondness for old things, or the badness of
their ear, do not like them so well as the
old ones, which were destroyed by a con-
flagration.

The Rev. W. L. Bowles has an effusion
agreeably illustrative of feelings on hear-
ing the bells ring.

SONNET.

Written at Ostend, July 22, 1787.

How sweet the. tuneful bells responsive peal !

As when at opening morn, the fragrant breeze
Breathes on the trembling sense of wan disease

>o piercing to my heart their force 1 feel !

139 THE EVERY-DAY BOOKJANUARY 29. 140

And hark ! with lessening cadence now they, fall,

And now, along the white and level tide,

They fling their melancholy music wide ;
Bidding me many a tender thought recall
Of summer days, and those delightful years

When by my native streams,, in life's fair prime,

The mournful magic of their mingling chime
First wak'd my wondering childhood into tears !
But seeming now, when all those days are o'er,
The sounds of joy once heard, and heard no more.

" The Times"* has a literary cones- a parish bell," it has occurred to me that

pondent, who communicates information the following description of the practice

that it may be useful to record. of baptizing bells, used by the Roman

CONSECRATION OF BELLS. Catholics may not be unacceptable to

your readers. This account is a true

To the Editor of the Times. translation from a book entitled " Ppnti-

MB. EDITOR, Having read in your ficale Romanum, Auturitate Pontificia,

paper of to-day, that the king of France impressum Venetiis, 1698. Lib. it. Cap.

" has been pleased to grant to the parish de Benedictwne Signi vel Campance" I

of Notre-Dame, at Nismes, two unser- have run parallel with their method 01

viceable pieces of cannon from the arsenal baptizing children and bells, in twelve

of Montpelliei, for the purpose of forming particulars, as follows :

Of the Baptism of a Child. Of the Baptism of a Bell.

The child must be first baptized, before The bell must be first baptized, before
it can be accounted one of the church. it may be hung in the steeple.

II.

The child must be baptized by a priest The bell must be baptized by a bishop
or a minister. or his deputy.

III.

In baptizing a child there is used holy In the baptism of a bell, there is used
water, cream, salt, oil, spittle, &c. &c. holy water, oil, salt, cream, tapers for

lights, &c.
IV
In baptism, the child receiveth a name. And so it is in the baptism of bells.

The child must have godfathers, &c., The bell must have godfathers, and they
&c. must be persons of great rank.

VI.
The child must be washed in water. The bell must be washed in water by

the hands of the bishop and priests.
VII.
The child must be crossed in baptism. The bell is solemnly crossed by the

bishop.
VIII.
The child must be anointed. The bell is anointed by the bishop.

IX.

The child must be baptized in the name The bell is washed and anointed, in
of the Holy Trinity. the name of the Trinity, by the bishop.

At baptism iney pray for the child. At the baptism of the bell they pray

literally for the bell.

* Sept. 17, 116.

141

THE EVEilY-DAY BOOK JANUARY 29.

142

At the child's baptism the scriptures There are more psalms read at the bap-
are read tism of a bell than at the baptism of a

child ; and a gospel also.

XII.

At child-baptism there are public At the baptism of a bell there are more
prayers made. prayers used, and (excepting salvation)

greater things are prayed for, and more

blessings on the bell, than on the child. But for the better proof of this point, I shall
here give part of one of the very curious prayers put up for the bell at its baptism :

Lord grant that 'wheresoever this holy bell, thus washed (or baptized)

and blessed, shall sound, all deceits of Satan, all danger of whirlwind, thunders,
lightnings, and tempests, may be driven away, and that devotion may increase in
Christian men when they hear it. O Lord, sanctify it by thy Holy Spirit ; that when
it sounds in thy people's ears they may adore Thee ! May "their faith and devotion
increase, the devil be afraid, and tremble and fly at the sound of it. O Lord, pour
upon it thy heavenly blessing ! that the fiery darts of the devil may be made to fly
backwards at the sound thereof; that it may deliver from danger of wind and
thunder, &c., &c. And grant, Lord, that all that come to the church at the sound of
it, may be free from all temptations of the devil. O Lord, infuse into it the heavenly
dew of thy Holy Ghost, that the devil may always fly away before the sound of
it, &,c., &c.

The doctrine of the church of Rome
concerning bells is, first, that they have
merit, and pray God for the living and
the dead ; secondly, that they produce
devotion in the hearts of believers; thirdly,
tfiat they drive away storms and tempests ;
and, fourthly, that they drive away devils.

The dislike of evil spirits to the sound
of bells, is extremely well expressed by
Wynkin de Worde, in the Golden Legend :
" It is said, the evil spiry tes that ben in
the region of th* ayre, doubte moche when
they here the belles rongen : and this is
the cause why the belles ringen whan it
thondreth, and whan grete tempeste and
to rages of wether happen, to the ende
that the feinds and wycked spiry tes should
ben abashed and flee, and cease of the
movynge of tempeste."

As to the names given to bells, I beg
leave to add, that the bells of Little
Dunmow Priory, in Essex, new cast A. D.
1501, were baptized by the following
names :

Prima in honore Sancti Michaelis
Arcliangeli.

Secunda in honore S. Johannis Evan-
gelisti.

Tertia in honore S. Johannis Baptisti.

Quarta in honore Assumptionis beatae
Maries.

Quinta in honore Sancti Trinitatis, et
omnium Sanctorum.

In the clochier near St. Paul's stood the
ur greatest bells in Bngland, called
Jesus' s bells ; against these sir Miles

Partridge staked 100/., and won them of
Henry VIII. at a cast of dice.

I conclude with remarking, that the
Abb6 Cancellieri, of Rome, lately pub-
lished a work relative to bells, wherein he
has inserted a long letter, written by
Father Ponyard to M. de Saint Vincens,
on the history of bells and steeples. The
Abbe" wrote this dissertation on the occa-
sion of two bells having been christened,,
which were to be placed within the tower
of the capitol.

I am, sir,
Your obedient servant,

Sept. 11. R. H, E.

R. H. E. "wise and good" as he was,
and he was both he is now no more
would not willingly have misrepresented
the doctrines of the Romish church,
though he abhorred that hierarchy. It
seems, however, that he may be mistaken
in affirming, that the Romish church
maintains of bells that " they have merit,
and pray God for the living and the
dead." His affirmation on this point may
be taken in too extensive a sense : It is
no doubt a Romish tenet that there is
" much virtue in bells," but the precise
degree allowed to them at this period, it
would be difficult to determine without
the aid of a council.

At Hatherleigh, a small town in Devon,
exist two remarkable customs : one, that

143

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. JANUARY 30.

144

every morning and -evening, soon after
the church clock has struck five and nine,
a bell from the same steeple announces
by distant strokes the number of the day
of the month originally intended, per-
tiaps, for the information of the unlearned
villagers : the other is, that after a funeral
the church bells ring a lively peal, as in
other places after a wedding; and to this
custom the parishioners are perfectly re-
conciled by the consideration that the
deceased is removed from a scene of
trouble to a state of rest and peace.

When Mr. Colman read his Opera of
"Inkle and Yarico" to the late Dr.
Mosely, the Doctor made no reply during
the progress of the piece. Af the con-
clusion, Colman asked what he thought
of it. "It won't do," said the Doctor,
" Stuff nonsense." Every body else
having been delighted with it, this de-
cided disapprobation puzzled the circle ;
he was asked why ? " I'll tell you why,"
answered the Critic; "you say in the
finale

' Now let us dance and sing,
While all Barbadoe's bells do ring/
It won't do there is but one bell in all
the island !"

With a citation from the poet of Erin,
the present notice will "ring out" de-
lightfully.

Evening Bells.

Those evening bells, those evening bells,
How many a tale their music tells,
Of youth and home, and that sweet time
Since last I heard their soothing chime.

Those joyous hours are passed away,
And many a friend that then was gay,
Within the tomb now darkly dwells,
And hears no more those evening bells.

And so 'twill be when I am gone,
That tuneful peal will still ring on,
While other bards shall walk these dells,
And sing thy praise, sweet evening bells !

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature. . . 36 64.

Sfanuarp 30.

King Charles's Martyrdom, 1644. Holi-
day at the Public Offices, 1826.
It is recorded that, after King Charles
the First received sentence of death, on

Saturday the 27th, he spent the next day
in devout exercises. He refused to see
his friends, and ordered them to be told,
that his time was precious, and the best
thing they could do was to pray for him.
On Monday the 29th y his children were
brought to take their leave of him, viz.
the lady Elizabeth and the duke of Glou-
cester. He first gave his blessing to the
lady Elizabeth, bidding her that when
she should see her brother James, she
should tell him that it was his father's
last desire that he should no more look
upon his brother Charles as his eldest
brother only, but be obedient to him as
his sovereign; and that they should love
one another, and forgive their father's
enemies. The king added, " Sweetheart,
you will forget this." " No," said she,
" I shall never forget it as long as I live."
He bid her not grieve and torment herself
for him ; for it would be a glorious death
he should die, it being for the laws and
liberties of this land, and for maintaining
the true Protestant religion. He recom-
mended to her the reading of " Bishop
Andrews's Sermons," " Hooker's Ecclesi-
astical Polity," and " Archbishop Laud r s
Book against Fisher." He further tolji
her, that he had forgiven all his enemies,
and hoped God would likewise forgive
them. He bade her tell her mother, that
his thoughts had never strayed from
her, and that his love should be the same
to the last. After this he took the duke
of Gloucester, being then a child of about
seven years of age, upon his knees, saying
to him, " Sweetheart, now they will cut
off thy father's head :" upon which the
child looked with great earnestness upon
him. The king proceeding, said, " Mark,
child, what I say, they will cut off' my
head, and perhaps make thee a king : but
mark what I say, you must not be a king
so long as your brothers Charles and James
do live ; for they will cut offyour brothers'
heads when they can catch them, and cut
off thy head too at last : and therefore I
charge you do not be made a king by
them." At which the child fetched a
deep sigh, and said, " I will be torn in
pieces first." Which expression falling
from a child so young, occasioned no
little joy to the king. This day the war-
rant for execution was passed, signed by
fifty-nine of the judges, for the king to
die the next day, between the hours of
ten in the morning and five in the after-
noon.

On the 30th, "The king having arrived

143

THE EVERY-DAY BOOKJANUARY 30.

146

at the place of execution, made a long
address to colonel Tomlinson ; and after-
wards turning to the officers, he said,

* Sirs, excuse me for this same : I have a
good cause and a gracious God : I will
say no more.' Then turning to colonel
Hacker, he said, ' Take care that you do
not put me to pain ;' and said, ' This
and please you ' A gentleman coming
near the axe, he said, 'Take heed of the
axe pray take heed of the axe.' Then
speaking to the executioner (who was
masked) he said, ' I shall say but very
short prayers, and when I thrust out my
hands .' Then he asked the bishop
for his cap, which, when he had put on,
he said to the executioner, ' Does my
hair trouble you?' who desiring it might
be all put under his cap, it was put up
by the bishop and executioner. Turning
to the bishop, he said, I have a good
cause, and a gracious God on my side.'
To which the bishop answered, * There
is but one stage more, which, though
turbulent and troublesome, yet it is a
very short one ; it will soon carry you a
very great way. It will carry you from
earth to heaven ; and there you will find,
to your great joy, the prize you hasten
to, a crown of glory.' The king added,

* I go from a corruptible to an incorrupti-
ble crown, where no disturbance is, no
disturbance in the world.' The bishop
replied, 'You are exchanged from a
temporal to an eternal crown, a good ex-
change.' Then the king asked the exe-
cutioner if his hair was well. After
which, putting off his cloak, doublet, and
his George, he gave the latter to the
bishcp, saying, 'Remember.' After
this he put on his cloak again over his
waistcoat, inquiring of the executioner if
the block was fast, who answered it was.
He then said, ' I wish it might have been
a little higher.' But it was answered
him, it could not be otherwise now. The
king said, * When I put out my hands
this way, then.' He prayed a few
words standing, with his hands and eyes
lift up towards heaven, and then stooping
down, laid his neck on the block. Soon
after which the executioner putting some
of his hair under his cap, the king thought
he had been going to strike, bade him
stay for the sign. After a little time the
king stretched forth his hand, and the
executioner took off his head at one
stroke. When his head was held up,
and the people at a distance knew the
fatal stroke was over, there was nothing

to be heard but shrieks, and groans, and
sobs, the unmerciful soldiers beating
down poor people for this little tender of
their affection to their prince, Thus died
the worthiest gentleman, the best master,
the best friend, the best husband,, the
best father, and the best Christian,' that
the age in which he lived produced."*

Sir Philip Warwick, an adherent to
this unfortunate king, says, " His de-
portment was very majestic; for he
would not let fall his dignity, no not to
the greatest foreigners that came to visit
him and his court : for though he was far
from pride, yet he was careful of majesty,
and would be approached with respect
and reverence. His conversation was
free ; and the subject matter of it, on his
own side of the court, was most commonly
rational ; or if facetious, not light. With
any artist or good mechanic, traveller, or
scholar, he would discourse freely; and
as he was commonly improved by them,
so he often gave light to them in their
own art or knowledge: for there were
few gentlemen in the world that knew
more of useful or necessary learning than
this prince did; and yet his proportion
of books was but small, having, like
Francis the First of France, learnt more
by the ear than by study. His way of
arguing was very civil and patient; for
he never contradicted another by his au-
thority, but by his reason ; nor did he by
petulant dislike quash another's argu-
ments; and he offered his exception by
this civil introduction, * By your favour,
Sir, I think otherwise, on this or that
ground;' yet he would discountenance
any bold or forward address unto him.
And in suits, or discourses of business, he
would give way to none abruptly to
enter into them, but looked that the
greatest persons should in affairs of this
nature address to him by his proper mi-
nisters, or by some solemn desire of speak-
ing to him in their own persons. His
exercises were manly, for he rid the great
horse very well ; and on the little saddle
he was not only adroit, but a laborious
hunter, or field-man. He had a great
plainness in his own nature, and yet he was
thought, even by his friends, to love too
much a versatile man ; but his experience
had thoroughly weaned him from this at

* Clarendon.

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THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. JANUARY 30.

148

Jast. He kept up the dignity of his court,
limiting persons to places suitable to their
qualities, unless he particularly called for
them. Besides the -tfomen who attended
on his beloved queen and consort, the
lady Henrietta Maria, sister of the French
king, he scarcely admitted any great offi-
cer to have his wife in the family. His
exercises of religion were most exem-
plary; for every morning early, and
evening, not very late, singly and alone,
in his own bed-chamber, or closet, he
spent some time in private meditation,
(for he dared reflect and be alone,) and
through the whole week, even when he
went to hunt, he never failed, before he
sat down to dinner, to have part of the
liturgy read to him and his menial ser-
vants, came he ever so hungry or late in:
and on Sundays and Tuesdays he came,
commonly at the beginning of service,well
attended by his court lords and chief at-
tendants, and most usually waited on by
many of the nobility in town, who found
those observances acceptably entertained
by him. His greatest enemies can deny
none of this ; and a man of this modera-
tion of mind could have no hungry appe-
tite to prey upon his subjects, though he
had a greatness of mind not to live preca-
riously by them. But when he fell into
the sharpness of his afflictions, (than
which few men underwent sharper,) I
dare say I know it, (I am sure conscien-
tiously I say it,) though God dealt with
him, as he did with St. Paul, not remove
the thorn, yet he made his grace sufficient
to take away the pungency of it ; for he
made as sanctified an use of his afflic-
tions as most men ever did. As an evi-
dence of his natural probity, whenever any
young nobleman or gentleman of quality
who was going to travel, came to kiss his
hand, he cheerfully would give them
some good counsel leading to moral vir-
tue, especially a good conversation ; tell-

ing them, that if he heard they kept good
company abroad, he should reasonably
expect they would return qualified to
serve their king and country well at
home ; and he was careful to keep the
youth in his time uncorrupted. The
king's deportment at his trial, which be-
gan on Saturday the 20th of January,
1648, was very majestic and steady ; and
though usually his tongue hesitated, yet
at this time it was free, for he was never
discomposed in mind ; and yet, as he
confessed himself to bishop Juxon, who
attended him, one action shocked him
very much ; for whilst he was leaning in
the court upon his staff, which had a head
of gold, the head broke off on a sudden:
he took it up, but seemed unconcerned ;
yet told the bishop, it really made a great
impression on him ; and to this hour
(says he) I know not possibly how it
should come. It was an accident I my-
self have often thought on, and cannot
imagine how it came about ; unless Hugh
Peters, who was truly and really his
gaoler, (for at St. James's nobody went
to him but by Peters's leave,) had artifi-
cially tampered upon his staff. But such
conjectures are of no use/'

In the Lansdowne collection of MSS.
a singular circumstance before the battle
of Newbury is thus related :

" The king being at Oxford went one
day to see the public library, where he
was shown, among other books, a Virgil.
nobly printed and exquisitely bound.
The lord Falkland, to divert the king,
would have his majesty make a trial of
his fortune by the sortes Pirgiliana, which
every body knows was not an unusual kind
of augury some ages past. Whereupon
the king opening the book, the period .
which happened to come up was part of
Dido's imprecation against .ZEneas,
which Mr. Dryden translates thus :

Yet let a race untamed, and haughty foes,

His peaceful entrance with dire arms oppose ;

Oppressed with numbers in th' unequal field,

His men discouraged and himself expelled,

Let him for succour sue from place to place,

Torn from his subjects and his sons' embrace,

First let him see his friends in battle slain,

And their untimely fate lament in vain ;

And when at length the cruel war shall cease,

On hard conditions may he buy his peace.

Nor let him then enjoy supreme command,

But fall untimely by some hostile hand,

And lie unburied on the barren sand.

b, iv. ). 88.

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THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. JANUARY 30.

150

" It is said, king Charles seemed con-
cerned at this accident, and that the lord
Falkland observing it, would likewise try
his own fortune in the same manner,
hoping he might fall upon some passage
that could have no relation to his case,
and thereby divert the king's thoughts
from any impression the other might have

upon him But the place that Falkland
stumbled upon was yet more suited to
his destiny* than the other had been to
the king's ; being the following expres-
sions of Evander upon the untimely
death of his son Pallas, as they are trans-
lated by the same hand :

Pallas ! thou hast failed thy plighted word
To fight with caution, not to tempt the sword ;

1 warned thee, but in vain ; for well I knew
What perils youthful ardour would pursue.
That boiling blood would carry thee too far ;
Young as thou wert in dangers raw in war !
O curst essay in arms, disastrous doom,
Prelude of bloody fields and fights to come.

JEneid, b. xi. 1. 230.

Remarkable 30th of January Sermon.

On the 30th of January, 1755, the rev.
John Watson, curate of Ripponden, in
Yorkshire, preached a sermon there
which he afterwards published. The
title-page states it as " proving that king
Charles I. did not govern like a good
king of England " He also printed "An
Apology for his Conduct yearly on the
30th of January." In these tracts he
says, " For some years last past I have
preached on the 30th of January, and my
labours were employed in obviating the
mistakes which I knew some of my con-
gregation entertained with regard to the
character of king Charles I.; and in
proving that if it was judged rebellion in
those who took up arms against that un-
fortunate prince, who had made so many
breaches in the constitution, it must be
an aggravation of that crime, to oppose
the just and wise measures of the present
father of his country, king George. The
chief reason for publishing the sermon is
to confute a commonly received opinion
that I applauded therein the act of cut-
ting off the king's head, which any one
may quickly see to be without foundation.
For when I say that the resistance he met
with was owing to his own mal-adrninis-
tration, nothing else can be meant than
the opposition he received from a wise,
brave, and good parliament : not that
shown him by those furious men who de-
stroyed both the parliament and him, and
whose conduct I never undertook to vin-
dicate. It has been observed that I al-
ways provide a clergyman to read prayers
for me on the 30th of January ; but not
to read that service is deemed criminal,
because in subscribing the 36th canon I

obliged myself to use the form prescribed
in the Book of Common Prayer. The
office for the 30th of January is no part of
the Liturgy of the church of England.
By the liturgy of the church I mean the
contents of The Book of Common Prayer
and Administration of the Sacraments,
and other Rites and Ceremonies of the
Church, &c., established by the act of
uniformity, in the year 1662; and what-
ever has been added since, I suppose no
clergyman ever bound himself by sub-
scription to use ; the reason is because
the law requires no more."

Mr. Watson then says, on the autho-
rity of Wheatly, in his " Illustration of
the Common Prayer," Johnson in his
"Clergyman's Vade Mecum," and the
author of "The Complete Incumbent,"
that the services for the 30th of January
and the 29th of May are not confirmed
by act of parliament, and that penalties
do not attach for the non-celebration 01
the service on those days. " I cannot in
conscience read those prayers/' says Wat-
son, "wherein the king is called a Martyr.
I believe the assertion to be false, and
therefore why should I tell a lie before
the God of Truth ! What is a martyr ?
He is a witness, for so the word in the
original imparts. Robert Stephens tells
us, that they are martyrs who have died
giving a testimony of divinity to Christ ;
but if this be true king Charles can be no
martyr, for he was put to death by those
who believed in the divinity of Christ as
well as he. What were the grounds then
for giving him this glorious title? his
dying rather than give up episcopacy ? I
think lord Clarendon hath proved the
contrary : he "consented to suspend epis-

Lord Falkland engaged in a thoughtleM skirmish and perished in it.

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. JANUARY 30.

152

oopacy for three years, and that money
should be raised upon the sale of the
church lands, and only the old rent should
be reserved to the just owners and their
successors. My charity leads me so far,
that I hope king Charles meant well when
he told the princess Elizabeth that he
should die a martyr, and when he repeat-
ed it on the scaffold. But this might be
nothing else but a pleasing deception of
the mind ; and if saying that he died a
martyr made him such, then the duke of
Monmouth also was the same, for he died
with the same words in his mouth, which
his grandfather, king Charles, had used
before. King Charles II. seems to have
had no such opinion of the matter ; for
when a certain lord reminded his majesty
of his swearing in common discourse, the
king replied, 'Your martyr swore more
than ever I did,' which many have deem-
ed a jest upon the title which his father
had got. In fact, we, of this generation,
should never have judged, that he who
swore to preserve the religion, laws, and
liberties of his country inviolate, and yet
broke through every one of these re-
straints that he, who put an English
fleet into the hands of the French to crush
the protestants there, who were struggling
to maintain their religion and liberties
that he, who contrary to the most solemn
promises, did sacrifice the protestant in-
terest in France that he, who concurred
with Laud in bringing the church of Eng-
land to a kind of tivalship, for ornaments,
&c., with the church of Rome that he,
who could consent, when he married the
French king's daughter, that their chil-
dren were to be educated by their mother
until thirteen years of age that he, who
gave great church preferments to men
who publicly preached up popish doc-
trines ; and that protected known papists
from the penalties of the law, by taking
several very extraordinary steps in their
behalf that he, who permitted an agent,
or a kind of nuncio from Rome, to visit
the court publicly, and bestowed such
offices as those of lord high treasurer, se-
cretary of state, chancellor of the exche-
quer, &c., on papists that he, who by
proclamation could command the Lord's
day to be profaned (for I can call it no
'ess) by revels, plays, and many sorts of
ill-timed recreations, punishing great
numbers of pious clergymen for refusing
to publish what their consciences forbad
them to read : and to name no more-
that he, who could abet the Irish massa-

cre, wherein above three hundred thou-
sand protestants were murdered in cold
blood, or expelled out of their habitations.
( Vide ' Temple's Irish Rebellion,' page 6 )
I say, we, at this period of time, should
not have thought such a one worthy to be
deemed a martyr for the cause of protest-
antism ; but that it has been a custom in
the church for near a century to call him
so. However, it is time seriously to con-
sider whether it is not proper to correct
this error ; at least, it should be shown to
be no error if we must keep it, for, at
present, many of the well-meaning mem-
bers of the church are offended at it."

The writer cited, goes on to observe,
" My second objection against reading
this service is, that I judge it to be con-
trary both to reason and the contents of
the Bible, to say that ' the blood of king
Charles can be required of us or our pos-
terity/ There is not, I suppose, one man
alive who consented to the king's death.
We know nothing of it but from history,
therefore none of us were concerned in
the fact ; with what reason then can it be
averred that we ought to be responsible
for it, when it neither was nor is in our
power to prevent it. But what if we dis-
claim the sins of our forefathers, or are the
posterity of those who fought for the king,
are wex still to be in danger of suffering ?
Such seems to be the doctrine of this ser-
vice, where all, without exception, are
called upon to pray that they ' may be
freed from the vengeance of his righteous
blood.' I could prove, from undoubted
records, that the family I came from were
royalists ; but I think it sufficient to say,
that I never did nor ever will consent,
that a king shall be beheaded, or other-
wise put to death ; therefore let others say
what they will, I look upon myself to be
innocent, and why should I plead with
God as if I thought myself guilty ? But
we are told that they * were the crying
sins of this nation which brought down
this heavy judgment upon us/ I think it
is more clear, that a series of ill-judged
and ill-timed acts, on the part of the king,
brought him into the power of his oppos-
ers, and that, afterwards, the ambition of
a few men led him to the scaffold. Let
it only be remembered, that at the be-
ginning of his reign he entered into a war
for the recovery of the Palatinate against
the consent of his parliament ; and when
he could not get them to vote him money
enough for his purpose he extorted it ille-
gally from his subjects ; refusing to join

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154

the parliament in redressing the grievan-
ces of the nation ; often threatening them ;
and even counteracting their designs ;
which, at last, bred so many disputes,
that he overstepped all bounds, and had
the misprudence to attempt the seizing of
five members in the house ; on which the
citizens came down by land and water,
with muskets on their shoulders, to defend
the parliament : soon after which so great
a distrust arose between the two houses
and him, that all likelihood of agreement
wholly ceased. This was the cause
whereon to make war sending the queen
to Holland to buy arms, himself retiring
from the capital, and soon after erecting
his standard at Nottingham. Not suc-
ceeding, he was made prisoner, and when
many expected his restoration, a violent
opposition in the army broke forth ; a
design was formed to change the mo-
narchy into a republic, and to ttys, and
nothing else, he fell a sacrifice. If the
real cause of the king's death was the
wickedness of those times, does it not
follow that his death was permitted by
God as a punishment for that wicked-
ness ; and if so, why should we fear that
God will still visit for it ? Will the just
and merciful Judge discharge his ven-
geance on two different generations of
men for the offences committed by one ?
Such doctrine as this should be banished
from every church, especially a Christian
one ; for it has no foundation in reason
or revelation." The reasons of this cler-
gyman of the established church for his
dissent from the established usage are still
further remarkable.

Mr. Watson states other objections to
this service. " In the hymn used instead
of Venite exultetnus, it is said, They fought
against him without a cause : the con-
trary of which, when it is applied to king
Charles, I think has been owned by every
historian. The parliament of England
were always more wise and good, than to
raise armies against the kings who gave
them no occasion to do so ; and I cannot
but entertain this favourable opinion of
that which began to sit in the year 1640.
There is nothing more true than that the
king wanted to govern by an arbitrary
power. His whole actions showed it, and
he could never be brought to depart from
this. Either, therefore, his people must
have submitted to the slavery, or they
must have vindicated their freedom
openly ; there was no middle way. But
should they have tamely received the

yoke ? No, surely ; for had they done
so, they had deserved the worst of evils ;
and the bitter effects thereof, in all pro-
bability, had not only been derived to us,
but our posterity. Happy Britons, tha T
such a just and noble stand was made !
May the memories of those great patriots
that were concerned in it be ever dear to
Englishmen ; and to all true Englishmen
they will !

" In the same hymn it is likewise af-
firmed that False witnesses rose up against
him, and laid to his charge things that he
knew not. Which on this occasion cannot
be truly said, because as the chief fact to
be proved was the king's being in arms, it
cannot be supposed that out of more than
200,000 men who had engaged with him,
a sufficient number of true witnesses could
be wanting. What, therefore, Mr. Wheatly
could think when he said that his hymn is
as solemn a composure, and as pertinent
to the occasion as can be imagined or
contrived, I cannot tell. I am sure a
broad hint is given therein, that the clergy
in king Charles's time were a set of wicked
people, and that it was through their un-
righteousness, as well as that of the laity,
that the king lost his life. The words are
these, * For the sins of the people, and
the iniquities of the priests, they shed the
blood of the just in the midst of Jeru-
salem.' Let those defend this passage
who are able, for I own myself incapable
of doing it consistently."

Mr. Watson says, " I am not by myself
in thinking that this service for the 30th of
January needs a review; many sensible,
worthy men think further that it is time
to drop it ; for they see that it is unsea-
sonable now, and serves no other end than
as a bone of contention in numberless
parishes, preventing friendship, and good
will being shown towards such of the
clergy as cannot in all points approve of
it; excepting that (as I have found by
experience) it tends to make bad subjects.
A sufficient argument this, was there no
other, why it should either be altered, or
taken away ; but I presume not to dictate ;
and, therefore, I urge this no further:
had I not a sincere regard for the church
of England, I should have said less ; but
notwithstanding any reports to the con-
trary, I declare myself to be a hearty
well-wisher to her prosperity. Did I not
prefer her communion to that of any other;
I would instantly leave her, for I am not
so abandoned as to play the hypocrite
that I detest, and have often detested it

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THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. JANUARY 30.

to my great loss. But I am not of that
opinion, that it is for the interest of the
church to conceal her defects; on the
contrary, I think I do her the greatest
service possible by pointing them out, so
that they may be remedied to the satisfac-
tion of all good men. She ought not to
be ashamed of the truth, and falsehood
will never hurt her."

It appears that Mr. Watson's conduct
obtained much notice; for he preached
another sermon at Halifax, entitled " Mo-
deration ; or a candid disposition towards
those that differ from us, recommended
and enforced." This he also printed,
with the avowed view of " promoting
of that moderation towards all men which
becometh us as Christians, is the orna-
ment of our profession, and which we
should therefore labour to maintain, as
we desire to walk worthy of the vocation
wherewith we are called, with all lowli-
ness and meekness, with long suffering,
forbearing one another in love, endeavour-
ing to keep the unity of the spirit in the
bond of peace." He proceeds to observe
in this discourse, that " whoever reflects
upon the nature of human constitutions,
will readily allow the impossibility of per-
fection in any of them ; and whoever con-
siders the mutability of human things,
will grant that nothing can be so well
devised, or so sure established, which, in
continuance of time, will not be corrupted.
A change of circumstances, to which the
best constituted state is liable, will require
such alterations as once would have been
needless : and improvement of observa-
tion will demand such regulations as
nothing else could have discovered to have
been right. Of this the wise founders of
the established church of England were
very sensible; they prudently required
no subscription to perfection in the church,
well knowing that they but laid the foun-
dation stone of a much greater building
than they could live to see completed.
The Common Prayer, since it was first
properly compiled," in the year 1545, has
undergone sixteen alterations, as defects
became visible, and offence was thereby
given to the promoting of separations and
divisions: noble examples these fit for
the present age to imitate ! for, as ninety
years have elapsed since the last review,
this experienced age has justly discovered
that the amendments, at that time made,
were not sufficient. I could produce you
many instances ; but I forbear ; for I am

very sensible how tender a point I am
discussing. However, I cannot but ob-
serve, that for my own part, upon the
maturest arid most sober consideration, I
take him to be a greater friend to Chris-
tianity in general, and to this church in
particular, who studies to unite as many
dissenters as may be to us, by a reason-
able comprehension, than he who is
against it."

It is urged by Mr Watson, that the
church of England herself does not claim
a perfection which is insisted upon as her
distinguishing quality by some of her
over zealous advocates. He says, " The
first reformers were wise and good men,
but the Common Prayer they published
was little better than popery itself; many
indeed have been the alterations in it
made since then ; but as, through the
unripeness of the times, it never had any
but imperfect emendations, we may rea-
sonably suppose it capable of still further
improvements." Deeming the service ap-
pointed for this day as inappropriate, and
referring to suggestions that were in his
time urged upon public attention for a
review of the liturgy, he proceeds to say,
" There may be men at work that misre-
present this good design ; that proclaim,
as formerly, the church's danger ; but let
no arts like these deceive you ; they must
be enemies in disguise that do it, or such
who have not examined what they object
to with sufficient accuracy. What is
wished for, your own great Tillotson him-
self attempted : this truly valuable man,
with some others but little inferior to him-
self, being sensible that the want of a
sufficient review drew many members
from the church, would have compromised
the difference in a way detrimental to no
one, beneficial to all ; and had he not
been opposed by some revengeful zealots,
had certainly completed what all good
men have wished for."

The Editor of the Every-Day Book
has Mr. Watson's private copies of these
printed tracts, with manuscript additions
and remarks on them by Mr. Watson
himself. It should seem from one of these
notes, in his own hand-writing, that his
opinions were not wholly contemned.
Regarding his latter discourse, he observes
that " the late Dr. Sharp, archdeacon cf
Northumberland, in a pamphlet, called
' A Serious Inquiry into the Use and Im-
portance of External Religion;' quotes
this sentence, " Where unity and peace are

157

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. JANUARY 30.

153

disregarded, devotion must be so too, as it
were by natural consequences. I have bor-
rowed these words from a sermon preached
at Halifax, by John Watson, A. M., which,
if any man, who has sixpence to spare,
will purchase, peruse, and lay to heart, he
will lay out his time and his money very
well." Archdeacon Sharp was father of
the late Granville Sharp, the distinguished
philanthropist and hebraist.

Mr. Watson was born at Presburg, in
Cheshire, and educated at Brazen Nose col-
lege, Oxford, where he obtained a fellow-
ship. He wrote a History of Halifax, in
2vols. 4to., 1775; and a History of the
Warren Family, by one of whom he was
presented to the rectory of Stockport, where
he died, aged 59 years He also wrote a
review of the large Moravian hymn book,
and several miscellaneous pieces. There
is a portrait of him by Basire.

By those who believe that Charles was
" guiltless of his country's blood/' and
that the guilt " of his blood" is an entail
upon the country not yet cut off, it may
be remarked as a curious fact, that at
about that season, eighty years after the
king " bowed his head" on the scaffold at
Whitehall, it was " a very sickly time."
It is recorded, that in 1733 " people were
afflicted this month with a head-ach and
fever which very few escaped, and many
died of; particularly between Tuesday,
the twenty-third, and Tuesday, the thir-
tieth of January, there died upwards of
fifteen hundred in London and Westmin-
ter."* On the twenty-third of January,
1649, the king having peremptorily de-
nied the jurisdiction of the court, the pre-
sident, Bradshaw, " ordered his contempt
to be recorded : on the thirtieth of January
he was beheaded." During these days,
and the intervening ones, the fatal Lon-
don head-ach prevailed in 1733.

On the second of March, 1772 Mr.
Montague moved in the house of com-
mons to have so much of the act of 12th
C. II. c % 30, as relates to the ordering
the thirtieth of January to be kept as a
day of fasting and humiliation, to be re-
pealed. His motive he declared to be, to
abolish, as much as he could, any absur-
dity from church as well as state. He
said that he saw great and solid reasons
for abolishing the observation of that day,

and hoped that it was not too harsh a
name to be given to the service for the
observation of that day, if he should brand
it with the name of impiety, particularly
in those parts where Charles I. is likened
to oar Saviour. On a division, there being
for the motion 97, and against it 125, it
was lost by a majority of 27.

The Calves-head Club.

On the 30th of January, 1735, certain
young noblemen and gentlemen met at a
French tavern in Suffolk-street, (Charing
Cross,) under the denomination of the
" Calves-head Club." They had an en-
tertainment of calves' heads, some of
which they showed to the mob outside,
whom they treated with strong beer. In
the evening, they caused a bonfire to be
made before the door, and threw into it
with loud huzzas a calf's-head dressed
up in a napkin. They also dipped their
napkins in red wine, and waved them
from the windows, at the same time
drinking toasts publicly. The mob huz-
zaed as well as " their betters," but
at length broke the windows, and became
so mischievous that the guards were called
in to prevent further outrage.*

These proceedings occasioned some
verses in the " Grub-street Journal,"
wherein are the following lines :

Strange times ! when noble peers secure

from riot

Cann't keep Noll's annual festival in quiet.
Through sashes broke, dirt, stones and

brands thrown at em,
Which, if not scand was brand-alum-

magnatum
Forced to run down to vaults for safer

quarters,
And in cole-holes, their ribbons hide and

garters.
They thought, their feast in dismal fray

thus ending,
Themselves to shades of death and hell

descending :

This might have been, had stout Clare-
market mobsters
With cleavers arm'd, outmarch'd St. James's

lobsters ;
Numsculls they'd split, to furnish other

revels,
And make a calves-head feast for worms

and devils.

British Chronologist, 177.

* Gents. Mag .and Brit. Chron.

.59

THE EVEHY-DAY BOOK. JANUARY 3

160

CalfaesJ^eatr Club m ^ufibOt Street, 173 1.

There is a print entitled " The true
Effigies of the Members of the Calves-
head Club, held on the 30th of January,
1734, in Suffolk Street, in the County of
Middlesex/' This date is the year before
that of the disturbance related, and as re-
gards the company, the health drinking,
huzzaing, a calf's" head in a napkin, a
bonfire, and the mob, the scene is the
same ; with this addition, that there is a
person in a mask with an axe in his hand.
The engraving above is from this print.

On a work entitled the " History of
the Calves-head Club/' little reliance is
to be placed for authenticity. It appears,
however, that their toasts were of this de-
scription : " The pious memory of Oliver
Cromwell." " Damn n to the race of the
Stuarts." "The glorious year 1648."
" The man in the mask, &c/' Tt will be
remembered that the executioner of
Charles I. wore a mask.

161

THE EVEUY-DAY B JOK.-.JANUARY 30.

Oranges and Bells.

A literary hand at Newark is so oblig-
ing as to send the communication annexed,
for which, in behalf of the reader, the edi-
tor offers his sincere thanks.

To the Editor of the Every-Day Book.

Sir, Newark, Dec. 1 0, 1 825.

On the 30th of January, the anniver-
sary of king Charles's martyrdom, and on
Shrove Tuesday, we have a custom here,
which I believe to be singular, having
never heard of it elsewhere. On those
days, there are several stalls placed in the
market-place, (as if for a regular market,)
having nothing but oranges : you may
purchase them, but it is rarely the case ;
but you " raffle'* for them, at least that is
their expression. You give the owner a
halfpenny, which entitles you to one
share ; if a penny, to two, and so on ; and
when there is a sufficient sum, you begin
the raffle. A ball nearly round, (about
the size of a hen's egg,) yet having
twenty-six square sides, each having a
number, being one to twenty-six, is given
you : (some balls may not have so many,
others more, but I never saw them.) You
throw the ball down, what I may term,
the chimney, (which is so made as to
keep turning the ball as it descends,) and
it falls on a flat board with a ledge, to
keep it from falling off, and when it stops
you look at the number. Suppose it was
twelve, the owner of the stall uses this ex-
pression, "Twelve is the highest, and one
gone." Then another throws ; if his is a
lesser number, they say, " Twelve is the
highest, and two gone ;" if a higher num-
Der, they call accordingly. The highest
number takes oranges to the amount of all
the money on the board. When they
first begin, a halfpenny is put down, then
they call " One, and who makes two ?"
\vhen another is put down, it is "Two,
and who makes three ?" and so on. At
night the practice is kept up at their own
houses till late hours; and others go to the
inns and public-houses to see what they
can do there.

Also eveiy day, at six in the morning,
and night, at eight o'clock, we have a bell
rung for about a quarter of an hour : it is
termed six o'clock and eight o'clock bell.
On saint days, Saturdays, and Sundays,
the time is altered to seven o'clock in the
morning, and to seven o'clock at night,
with an additional ringing at one o'clock

VOL. TL 58.

at noon. Again, at eight o'clock v>n Sun-
day morning, all the bells are tolled round
for a quarter of an hour.

I have mentioned the above, that, if
they come within the notice of the Every-
Day Book, you would give them inser-
tion, and, if possible, account for their
origin.

Whilst on the subject of " bells," per-
haps you can mention how " hand bells
came into the church, and for what pur-
pose." We have a set in this church*
I am, &c.

H. H. N. N.

The editor will be glad to receive eluci-
dations of either of these usages.

Accounts of local customs are paiticu-
larly solicited from readers of the Every-
Day Book in every part of the country.

To the notice of this day in the Per-
ennial Calendar, the following stanzas
are subjoined by Dr. Forster. They are
evident " developments" of phrenological
thought.

VERSES ON A SKULL

In a church-yard.

O empty vault of former glory !

Whate'er thou wert in time of old.
Thy surface tells thy living story,

Tho' now so hoJ)o\v, dead, and cold ,
For in thy form is yet descried

The traces left of young desire ;
The Painter's art, the Statesman's pride,

The Muse's song, the Poet's fire ;
But these, forsooth, now seem to be
Mere lumps ou thy periphery.

Dear Nature, constant in her laws,

Hath mark'd each mental operation,
She ev'ry feeling's limit draws

On all the heads throughout the nation,
That there might no deception be ;

And he who kens her tokens well,
Hears tongues which every where agree

In language that no lies can tell
Courage Deceit Destruction Theft
Have traces on the skullcap left.

But through all Nature s constancy
An awful change of form is seen,

Two forms are not which quite agree,
None is replaced that o.ice hath been ;

163

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. JANUARY 30.

164

Endless variety in all,

From Fly to Man, Creation's pride,
Each shows his proper form to fall

Eftsoons in time's o'erwhelming tide,
And mutability goes on
With ceaseless combination.

Tis thine to teach with magic power

Those who still bend life's fragile stem,
To suck the sweets of every flower,

Before the sun shall set to them ;
Calm the contending passions dire,

Which on thy surface I descry,
Like water struggling with the fire

In combat, which of them shall die ;
Thus is the soul in Fury's car,
A type of Hell's intestine war.

Old wall of man's most noble par ,

While now I trace with trembling hand
Thy sentiments, how oft I start,

Dismay'd at such a jarring band !
Man, with discordant frenzy fraught,

Seems either madman, fool, or knave ;
To try to live is all he's taught

To 'scape her foot who nought doth save
In life's proud race ; (unknown our goal)
To strive against a kindred soul.

These various organs show the place

Where Friendship lov'd, where Passion

glow'd,
Where Veneration grew in grace,

Where justice swayed, where man was

proud
Whence Wit its slippery sallies threw

On Vanity, thereby defeated ;
Where Hope's imaginary view

Of things to come (fond fool) is seated ;
Where Circumspection made us fear,
Mid gleams of joy some danger near.

Here fair Benevolence doth grow
In forehead high here Imitation

Adorns the stage, where on the Brow
Are Sound, and Color's legislation.

Here doth Appropriation try,

By help of Secrecy, to gain
A store of wealth, against we die,

For heirs to dissipate again.
Cause and Comparison here show,

The use of every thing we know.

But here that fiend of fiends doth dwell,

While Ideality unshaken
By facts or theory, whose spell

Maddens the soul and fires our beacon.
Whom memory tortures, love deludes,

Whom circumspection fills with dread,
On every organ he obtrudes,

Until Destruction o'er his head
Impends ; then mad with luckless strife,
He volunteers the loss of life.

And canst thou teach to future man

The way his evils to repair
Say, O momento, of the span

Of mortal life ? For if the care
Of truth to science be not given,

(From whom no treachery it can sever,}
There's no dependance under heaven

That error may not reign for ever.
May future heads more learning cull
From thee, when my own head's a skull.

There is a parish game in Scotland, at
this season of theyear,when the waters are
frozen and can bear practitioners in the di-
version. It prevails, likewise, in North-
umberland, and other northern parts of
south Britain ; yet, nowhere, perhaps, is
it so federalized as among the descend-
ants of those who "ha' wi' Wallace
bled." This sport, called curling, is de-
scribed by the georgical poet, and will
be better apprehended by being related
in his numbers : it being premised that
the time agreed on, or the appointment
for playing it, is called the tryst ; the
match is called the bonspiel ; the boundary
marks for the play are called the tees ;
and the stones used are called coits,
or quoits, or coiting, or quoiting-stones.

Now rival parishes, and shrievedoms, keep,
On upland lochs, the long-expected tryst
To play their yearly bonspiel. Aged men,
Smit with the eagerness of youth, are there,
While love of conquest lights their beamless eyes,
New-nerves their arms, and makes them young once more.

The sides when ranged, the distance meted out,
And duly traced the tees, some younger hand
Begins, with throbbing heart, and far o'ershoots,
Or sideward leaves, the mark : in vain he bends
His waist, and winds his hand, as if it still
Retained the power to guide the devious stone,

165 THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. JANUARY 31.

Which, onward hurling, makes the circling groupe
Quick start aside, to shun its reckless force.
But more and still more skilful arms succeed,
And near and nearer still around the tee,
This side, now that, approaches ; till at last,
Two, seeming equidistant, straws, or twigs,
Decide as umpires 'tween contending coits.

Keen, keener still, as life itself were staked,
Kindles the friendly strife : one points the line
To him who, poising, aims and aims again ;
Another runs and sweeps where nothing lies.
Success alternately, from side to side.
Changes ; and quick the hours un-noted fly,
Till light begins to fail, and deep below,
The player, as he stoops to lift his coit,
Sees, half incredulous, the rising moon.
But now the final, the decisive spell
Begins ; near and more near the sounding stones,
Some winding in, some bearing straight along,
Crowd justling all around the mark, while one,
Just slightly touching, victory depends
Upon the final aim : long swings the stone.
Then with full force, careering furious on,
Rattling it strikes aside both friend and foe,
Maintains its course, and takes the victor's place.
The social meal succeeds, and social glass ;
In words the fight renewed is fought again,
While festive mirth forgets the winged hours.
Some quit betimes the scene, and find that home
Is still the place where genuine pleasure dwells,

160

Grakame.

NATURALISTS CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature ... 36 85.

Sfanuarp 31.

King George IV, proclaimed. Holiday
at the Exchequer.

Wakes.

A newspaper of this day,* in the year
1821, relates the following" anecdote :

All through Ireland the ceremonial of
wakes and funerals is most punctually at-
tended to, and it requires some sfavoir
faire to carry through the arrangement in
a masterly manner. A great adept at the
business, who had been the prime ma-
nager at all the wakes in the neighbour-
hood for many years, was at last called
away from the death-beds of his friends
to his own. Shortly before he died he
gave minute directions to his people as to

* New Times.

the mode of waking him in proper style.
" Recollect," says he, " to put three can-
dles at the head of the bed, after you lay
me out, and two at the foot, and one at
each side. Mind now, and put a plate
with the salt on it just a top of my breast.
And, do you hear ? have plenty of tobacco
and pipes enough ; and remember to make
the punch strong. And but what the
devil is the use of talking to you ? sure I
know you'll be sure to botch it, as I won't
be there myself."

MR. JOHN BULL, an artist, with poeti-
cal powers exemplified in the first vo-
lume* by a citation from his poem enti-
tled " The Museum," which deserves to be
better known, favours the Every-Day
Book with the following original lines.
The conflict between the cross and the
crescent, renders the communication pe-
culiarly interesting to those who indulge
a hope that the struggle will terminate in
the liberation of Greece from " worse than
Egyptian bondage."

* P.m

167

THE EVEKY-DAY BOOK. JANUARY 31.

168

THE RAINBOW IN GREECE.

By Mr. John Bull.

Arch of peace ' the firmament

Hath not a form more fair
Than thine, thus beautifully bent

Upon the lighten'd air.

Well might the wondrous bards of yore

Of thee so sweetly sing ;
Thy fair foot on their lovely shore

Returning with the spring !

An angel's form to thee they gave,

Celestial feign'd thy birth,
Saw thee now span the light green wave,

And now the greener earth.

Yet then, where'er thy smile was seen

On land, or billowy main,
Thou seem'd to watch, with look serene,

O'er Freedom's glorious reign.

Thy brilliant arch, around the sky,

The nurse of hope appear'd,
Sweet as the light of liberty,

Wherewith their souls were cheer'd !

But ah ! if thou, when Greece was young,

Didst visit realms above ;
Go and return, as minstrels sung

A messenger of love :

What tale, in heaven, hast thou to tell,

Of tyrants and their slaves
Despots, and soul-bound men that dwell

Without their fathers' graves !

Oh ! when they see thy beauteous bow,

Surround their ancient skies,
Do not the Grecian warriors know,

Tis then their hour to rise 1

Let them unsheath the daring sword,

And, pointing up to thee,
Speak to their men one fiery word,

And march to set them free

Upon thino arch of hope they'd glance,
And say, " The storm is o'er I

" The clouds are breaking off advance,
" We will be slaves no more !"

repre-

The "Mirror of the Months"
ents of the coming month, that

" Now the Christmas holidays are 3ver,
and all the snow in Russia could not
make the first Monday in this month look
any other than black, in the home-loving
eyes of little schoolboys ; and the streets
of London are once more evacuated of
h:
but

heard, and sorrowful faces seen to issue
from sundry post-chaises that carry six-
teen inside, exclusive of cakes and boxes;

lappy wondering faces, that look any way
)ut straight before them ; and sobs are

and theatres are no longer conscious or
unconscious dclats de rire, but the whole
audience is like Mr. Wordsworth's cloud,
" which moveth altogether, if it move
at all."

In the gardens of our habitations, and
the immense tracts that provide great
cities with the products of the earth, the
cultivator seizes the first opportunity to
prepare and dress the bosom of our com-
mon mother. " Hard frosts, if they come
at all, are followed by sudden thaws;
and now, therefore, if ever, the mysterious
old song of our school days stands a
chance of being verified, which sings of
* Three children sliding on the ice,

All on a summer's day !'
Now the labour of the husbandman re-
commences ; and it is pleasant to watch
(from your library-window) the plough-
team moving almost imperceptibly along,
upon the distant upland that the bare
trees have disclosed to you. Nature is
as busy as ever, if not openly and ob-
viously, secretly, and in the hearts of her
sweet subjects the flowers ; stirring them
up to that rich rivalry of beauty which is
to greet the first footsteps of spring, and
teaching them to prepare themselves for
her advent, as young maidens prepare,
months beforehand, for the marriage fes-
tival of some dear friend. If the flowers
think and feel (and he who dares to say
that they do not is either a fool or a phi-
losopher let him choose between the
imputations !) if the flowers think and
feel, what a commotion must be working
within their silent hearts, when the pi-
nions of winter begin to grow, and indi-
cate that he is at least meditating his
flight Then do they, too, begin to
meditate on May-day, and think on the
delight with which they shall once more
breathe the fresh air, when they have
leave to escape from their subterranean
prisons ; for now, towards the latter end
of this month, they are all of them at
least awake from their winter slumbers,
and most are busily working at their gay
toilets, and weaving their fantastic robes,
and shaping their trim forms, and distil-
ling their rich essences, and, in short,
getting ready in all things, that they may
be duly prepared to join the bright pro-
cession of beauty that is to greet and
glorify the annual coming on of their
sovereign lady, the spring. It is true
none of all this can be seen. But what
a race should we be, if we kne^v and

169

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. FEBRUARY.

170

cared to know of nothing, but what we
can see and prove ! " "

* Mirror of the Months.

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature ... 39 35.

FEBRUARY.

When, in the zodiac, the Fish wheel round,

They loose the floods, and irrigate the grouud.

Then, husbandmen resume their wonted toil,

Yoke their strong steers, and plough the yielding soil

Then prudent gard'ners seize the happy time,

To dig and trench, and prune for shoots to climb,

Inspect their borders, mark the silent birth

Of plants, successive, from the teeming earth,

Watch the young nurslings with paternal care,

Apd hope for "growing weather" all the year.

Yet February's suns uncertain shine,

*ov rain and frost alternately combine

To stop the plough, with sudden wintry storms

/nd, often, fearful violence the month deforms

171

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. FEBRUARY 1.

172

jftbruarp l.

Flowers

A good garden in a sunny day, at the
commencement of this month, has many
delightful appearances to a lover of na-
ture, and issues promises of further gra-
tification. It is, however, in ball-rooms
and theatres that many of the sex, to
whose innocence and beauty the lily is
likened, resort for amusement, and see or
wear the mimic forms of floral loveliness.
Yet this approach to nature, though at
an awful distance, is to be hailed as
an impulse of her own powerful working
in the very heart of fashion ; and it has
this advantage, that it supplies means of
existence to industry, and urges ingenuity
to further endeavour. Artificial wants
are rapidly supplied by the necessity of
providing for real ones; and the weal-
thy accept drafts upon conditions which

indigence prescribes, till it becomes
lifted above poverty to independence.

The manufacture of artificial flowers is
not wholly unknown in England, but our
neighbours, the French, eclipse us in the
accuracy and variety of their imitations.
Watering-places abound with these won-
ders of their work-people, and in the me-
tropolis there are depots, from whence
dress-makers and milliners are supplied
by wholesale.

The annexed literal copy of a French
flower-maker's card, circulated during the
summer of 1822 among the London
shopkeepers, is a whimsical specimen of
self-sufficiency, and may save some learn-
ers of French from an overweening confi-
dence in their acquisition of that language,
which, were it displayed in Paris, would
be as whimsical in that metropolis as this
English is in ours.

M. MARLOTEAU et O.

Manufacturers from Paris ,

37, MONTMORENCY-STREET,

To London 14 Broad street , Oxford street.

Acquaint the Trade in general, that they have just established in LONDON.

A Warhouse for FRENCH FLOWERS , for each Season , feathar from
hat ladies of their own Manufacture elegant fans of the NEWEST TASTE.

And of Manufactures of PARIS , complette sets ornaments for 'balls , snuff (
boxes scale gold and silver , boxes toilette , ribbons and embroidered , hat
et cap , from Ladies of the newest Taste , China , all sorts , etc.

He commit generally the articles from Paris , Manufacturers.

And send in all BRITISH CITY.
Attandance from Nine o'Clock in the Morning till five in the Afternoon.

173

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. FEBRUARY 2.

174

NATURALISTS CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature . . .39 70.

jfdbruarj) 2.

Purification, or Candlemas. 1826. Holi-
day at the Public Offices.
This day, the festival of "the Purifica-
tion of the Blessed Virgin Mary," is some-
times called Christ's Presentation, the
Holiday of St Simeon, and The Wives'
Feast. An account of its origin and cele-
bration is in vol. i: p. 199. A beautiful
composition in honour of the Virgin is
added as a grace to these columns.
Portuguese Hymn.

TO THE VIRGIN MARY.

By John Leyden.
Star of the wide and pathless sea,

Who lov'st on mariners to shine,
These votive garments wet to thee,

We hang within thy holy shrine.

When o'er us flushed the surging brine,
Amid the warring waters tost,

We called no other name but thine,
And hoped, when other hope was lost,

Ave Maris Stella !
Star of the vast and howling main,

When dark and lone is all the sky,
And mountain- waves o'er ocean's plain

Erect their stormy heads on high ;

When virgins for their true loves sigh,
And raise their weeping eyes to thee,

The star of Ocean heeds their cry,
And saves the foundering bark at sea.

Ave Maris Stella!
Star of the dark and stormy sea,

When wrecking tempests round us rave,
Thy gentle virgin form we see

Bright rising o'er the hoary wave.

The howling storms that seem to crave
Their victims, sink in music sweet,

The surging seas recede to pave
The path beneath thy glistening feet,

Ave Maris Stella!
Star of tne desert waters wild,

Who pitying hears the seaman's cry,
The God of mercy, as a child,

On that chaste bosom loves to lie ;

While soft the chorus of the sky
Their hymns of tender mercy sing,

And angel voices name on high
The mother of the heavenly king,

Ave Maris Stella!
Star of the deep ! at that blest name

The waves sleep silent round the keel,
The tempests wild their fury tame

That made the deep's foundations reel :

The soft celestial accents steal
So soothing through the realms of woe,
* # '# * *

Ave Maris Stella !

Star of the mild and placid seas,

Whom rainbow rays of mercy crown,

Whose name thy faithful Portuguese
O'er all that to the depths go down,
With hymns of grateful transport own ,

When gathering clouds obscure their light
And heaven assumes an awful frown.

The star of Ocean glitters bright,
Ave Maris Stella !

Star of the deep ! when angel lyres

To hymn thy holy name essay,
In vain a mortal harp aspires

To mingle in the mighty lay !

Mother of God ! one living ray
Of hope our grateful bosoms fires

When storms and tempests pass away,
To join the bright immortal quires.
Ave Maris Stella !

On Candlemas-day, 1734, there was a
grand entertainment for the judges, ser-
geants, &c. in the Temple-hall. The lord
chancellor, the earl of Macclesfield, the
bishop of Bangor, together with other
distinguished persons, were present, and
the prince of Wales attended incog. At
night the comedy of " Love for Love "
was acted by the company of his Majesty's
revels from the Haymarket theatre, who
received a present of 507. from the so-
cieties of the Temple. The judges, ac-
cording to an ancient custom, danced
" round the coal fire," singing an old
French song.*

THE COAL AND THE DIAMOND

A Fable for Cold Weather,
A coal was hid beneath the grate,
(Tis often modest merit's fate,)

'Twas small, and so, perhaps, forgotten ;
Whilst in the room, and near in size,

Ir a fine casket lined with cotton,
In pomp and state, a diamond lies.

" So, little gentleman in black,"
The brilliant spark in anger cried,

" I hear, in philosophic clack,
Our families are close allied ;

But know, the splendour of my hue,
ExcelPd by nothing in existence,

Should teach such little folks as you
To keep a more respectful distance."

At these reflections on his name,

The coal soon redden'd to a flame ;

Of his own real use aware,

He only answer'd with a sneer

" I scorn your taunts, good bishop Blaae,

And envy not your charms divine ;
For know, 1 boast a double praise,

As I can warm as well as shine."

* Gentleman's Magazine.

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. FEBRUARY 2.

176

She was in prison, as you see,

All in a cave of snow ;
And she could not relieved be,

Though she was frozen so.

Ah, weU a-day 1

17'

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. FEBRUARY.

For she was all froze in with frost,

Eight days and nights, poor soul !
Rut when they gave her up for lost,

They found her down the hole.

A h, well-a-day ' MS. Ballad.

178

. On Saturday, the 2d of February, 1799,
Elizabeth Woodcock, aged forty-two years,
went on horseback from Impington to
Cambridge ; on her return, between six
and seven o'clock in the evening, being
about half a mile from her own home,
her horse started at a sudden light, pro-
bably from a meteor, which, at this season
of the year, frequently happens. She
exclaimed, " Good God ! what can this
be?'' It was a very inclement, stormy
night; a bleak wind blew boisterously
from the N. E. ; the ground was covered
by great quantities of snow that had fallen
during the day. Many of the deepest
ditches were filled up, whilst in the open
fields there was but a thin covering ; but
in roads and lanes, and in narrow and
enclosed parts, it had so accumulated as
to retard the traveller. The horse ran
backwards to the brink of a ditcb, and
fearing lest the animal should plunge
into it, she dismounted, intending to lead
the animal home ; but he started again,
and broke from her. She attempted to
regain the bridle; but the horse turned
suddenly out of the road, over a common
field, and she followed him. Having lost
one of her shoes in the snow, and wearied
by the exertion she had made, and by a
heavy basket on her arm, her pursuit of
the horse was greatly impeded ; she how-
ever persisted, and having overtaken him
about a quarter of a mile from whence
she alighted, she gained the bridle, and
made another attempt to lead him home.
But on retracing her steps to a thicket
contiguous to the road, she became so
much fatigued, and her left foot, which
was without a shoe, was so much be-
numbed, that she was unable to proceed
farther. Sitting down upon the ground
in this state, and letting go the bridle,
" Tinker," she said, calling the horse by
his name, " I am too much tired to go
any farther; you must go home without
me :" and exclaimed, " Lord have mercy
upon me! what will become of me?"
The ground on which she sat was upon a
jevel with the common field, close under
the thicket on the south-west. She well
knew its situation, and its distance from
her own house. There was then only a
small quantity of snow drifted near her;
but it accumulated so rapidly, that when

Chesterton bell rang at eight o'clock, she
was completely hemmed in by it. The
depth of the snow in which she was en-
veloped was about six feet in a perpen-
dicular direction, and over her head be-
tween two and three. She was incapable
of any effectual attempt to extricate her-
self, and, in addition to her fatigue and
cold, her clothes were stiffened by the
frost; and therefore, resigning herself to
the necessity of her situation, she sat
awaiting the dawn of the following day.
To the best of her recollection, she slept
very little during the night. In the
morning, observing before her a circular
hole in the snow, about two feet in length,
and half a foot in diameter, running
obliquely upwards, she broke off a branch
of a bush which was close to her, and
with it thrust her handkerchief through
the hole, and hung it, as a signal of dis-
tress, upon one of the uppermost twigs
that remained uncovered. She bethought
herself that the change of the moon was
near, and having an almanac in her
pocket, took it out, though with great
difficulty, and found that there would be
a new moon the next day, February the
4th. Her difficulty in getting the alma-
nac from her pocket arose, in a great
measure, from the stiffness of her frozen
clothes ; the trouble, however, was com-
pensated by the consolation which the
prospect of so near a change in her favour
afforded. Here, however, she remained
day after day, and night after night, per-
fectly distinguishing the alterations of day
and night, hearing the bells of her own
and the neighbouring villages, particularly
that of Chesterton, which was about two
miles distant from the spot, and rung in
winter time at eight in the evening and
four in the morning, Sundays excepted ;
she was sensible to the sound of carriages
upon the road, the bleating of sheep and
lambs, and the barking of dogs. One
day she overheard a conversation between
two gipsies, relative to an ass they had
lost. She recollected having pulled out
her snuff-box, and taken two pinches of
snuff, but felt so little gratification from
it, that she never repeated it. Possibly,
the cold might have so far blunted her
powers of sensation, that the snuff no
longer retained its stimulus. Finding her

179

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. FEBRUARY 2.

18C

left hand beginning to swell, in conse-
quence of her reclining on that arm, she
took two rings, the tokens of her nuptial
vows twice pledged, t'rom her finger, and
put them, together with a little money
from her pocket, into a small box, judging
that, should she not be found alive, the
rings and money, being thus deposited,
were less likely to be overlooked by the
discoverers of her breathless corpse. She
frequently shouted, in hopes that her vo-
ciferations might reach any that chanced
to pass, but the snow prevented the trans-
mission of her voice. The gipsies, who
approached her nearer than any other
persons, were not sensible of any sound,
though she particularly endeavoured to
attract their attention. A thaw took place
on the Friday after the commencement of
her misfortunes ; she felt uncommonly
faint and languid ; her clothes were
wetted quite through by the melted snow ;
the aperture before mentioned became
considerably enlarged, and she attempted
to make an effort to release herself; but
her strength was too much impaired ; her
feet and legs were no longer obedient to
her will, and her clothes were become
much heavier by the water which
they had imbibed. She now, for the first
time, began to despair of being discovered
alive ; and declared, that, all things con-
sidered, she could not have survived
twenty-four hours longer This was
the morning of her emancipation. The
apartment or cave of snow formed around
her was sufficiently large to afford her
space to move herself about three or four
inches in any direction, but not to stand
upright, it being only about three feet
and a half in height, and about two in
the broadest part. Her sufferings had
now increased ; she sat with one of her
hands spread over her face, and fetched
very deep sighs ; her breath was short
and difficult, and symptoms of approach-
ing dissolution became hourly more appa-
rent. On that day, Sunday, the 10th of
February, Joseph Muncey, a young
farmer, in his way home from Cambridge,
about half-past twelve o'clock, passed
very near the spot where the woman was.
Her handkerchief, hanging upon the twigs,
where she had suspended it, caught his
eye ; he walked up to the place, and saw
the opening in the snow, and heard a
sound issue from it similar to that of
a person "breathing hard and with diffi-
culty. He looked in, and saw the woman
who had been so long missing. He did

not speak to her, but, seeing another
young farmer and a shepherd at a little
distance, communicated to them the dis-
covery he had made ; upon which, though
they scarcely credited his report, they
went to the spot. The shepherd called
out, " Are you there, Elizabeth Wood-
cock ?" She replied, in a faint and feeble
accent, " Dear John Stittle, I know your
voice ; for God's sake, help me out of
this place !" Stittle immediately made his
way through the snow till he was able to
reach her; she eagerly grasped his hand,
and implored him not to leave her. " I
have been here a long time," she observed.
" Yes," answered the man, " ever since
Saturday." " Ay, Saturday week,"
she replied ; " I have heard the bells
go two Sundays for church." Her hus-
band was immediately acquainted with
the discovery, and proper means were
taken for conveying her home. Her hus-
band and some neighbours brought a
horse and chaise-cart, with blankets to
wrap her in. The snow being somewhat
cleared away, she asked for a piece of bis-
cuit and a small quantity of brandy, from
taking which she found herself greatly re-
cruited. As a person took her up to put
her into the chaise, the stocking of the left
leg, adhering to the ground, came off, and
she fainted. Nature was greatly exhaust-
ed, and the motion, added to the sight of
her husband and neighbours,was too much
for her strength and spirits. When she
recovered, she was laid gently in the car-
riage, covered well over with the blankets,
and conveyed without delay to her own
house.

It appears that when the horse came
home, her husband and another person
set out on the road with a lantern, and
went quite to Cambridge, where they only
learnt that she left the inn at six that
evening. They explored the road afresh
that night, and for four succeeding days,
and searched the huts of the gipsies, whom
they suspected might have robbed and
murdered her, till she was unexpectedly
discovered in the manner already men-
tioned.

Mr. Okes, a surgeon, first saw her in
the cart, as she was removing home. She
spoke to him with a voice tolerably
strong, but rather hoarse ; her hands and
arms were sodden, but not very cold
though her legs and feet were. She was
put to bed, and weak broth given her oc-
casionally. From the time of her being
lost she had eaten only snow, and believed

181

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. FEBRUARY 3.

182

she had not slept till Friday the 8th.
The hurry of spirits, occasioned by too
many visitors, rendered her feverish ; and
hw feet were found to be completely
mortified. The cold had extended its vio-
lent effects from the end of the toes to the
middle of the instep, including more than
an inch above the heels, and all the bot-
tom of the feet, insomuch, that she lost all
her toes with the integuments from the
bottom of one foot. Her life was saved,
but the mutilated state in which she was
left, without even a chance of ever being
able to attend to the duties of her family,
was almost worse than death itself. She
lingered until the 13th of July, 1799,
when she expired, after a lapse of five
months from the period of her discovery.

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature ... 40 37.

St. Blaise.

These two Romish festivals are still
retained in the church of England ca-
lendar.

Of St. Blaise's festival there is an ac-
count in vol. i. p. 207.

WITCHCRAFT*

The necessity for instruction is power-
fully exemplified by the following narra-
tive. Some who reflect upon it, and dis-
cover that there are other and worse
consequences to be apprehended from ig-
norance than those related below, will
consult their own safety, by providing
education for the children of labouring
people, and influencing their attendance
where they may gain the means of dis-
tinguishing right from wrong.

In February, 1808, at Great Paxton, in
Huntingdonshire, Alice Brown, crossing
the ice on the river Ouse, fell into the
water, and narrowly escaped drowning,
in the sight of her friend, Fanny Amey, a
poor epileptic girl, who, in great terror,
witnessed the accident. Alice arrived at
her father's house shivering with cold,
and, probably from sympathetic affection,
was herself seized with epilepsy. The fits
returning frequently, she became emaci-
ated, and incapable of labour. In April
following, the rev. Isaac Nicholson, curate
of the parish, inquiring after her health,
was astonished by her brother informing
him that her fits and debility were the

effect of witchcraft. " She is under an
evil tongue," said the youth. " As sure
as you are alive, sir," continued a stand er-
by, " she is bewitched, and so are two
other young girls that live near her."
The boor related, that at the town he
came from in Bedfordshire, a man had
been exactly in the same way ; but, by a
charm, he discovered the witch to be an
old woman in the same parish, and that
her reign would soon be over ; which
happened accordingly, for she died in
a few days, and the man recovered.
" Thomas Brown tried this charm last
night for his daughter, but it did not suc-
ceed according to our wishes ; so they
have not at present found out who it is
that does all the mischief."

Mr. Nicholson was greatly shocked
at the general opinion of the peo-
ple that Alice Brown, Fanny Amey,
and Mary Fox were certainly bewitched
by some person who had bought a fami-
liar or an evil spirit of the devil at the
expense of the buyer's soul, and that
various charms had been tried to discover
who the buyer was. It was utterly out
of his power to remove or diminish the
impressions of his parishioners as to the
enchantment ; and on the following Sun-
day, a few minutes before he went to
church, Ann Izzard, a poor woman about
sixty years old, little, but riot ill-looking,
the mother of eight children, five of whom
were living, requested leave to speak to
him. In tears and greatly agitated, she
told him her neighbours pretended, that,
by means of certain charms, they had dis-
covered that she was the witch. She said
they abused her children, and by their
violent threats frightened her so much
that she frequently dropped down to the
ground in fainting-fits. She concluded
by asserting her innocence in these words :
" I am not a witch, and am willing to
prove it by being weighed against the
church bible." After the sermon, he ad-
dressed his flock on the folly of their opi-
nions, and fatal consequences of brooding
over them. It appears, however, that his
arguments, explanations, and remon-
strances were in vain. On Thursday, the
5th of May, Ann Izzard was at St. Neot's
market, and her son, about sixteen years
old, was sent there by his master for a
load of corn : his mother and another
woman, a shopkeeper in the parish, ac-
companied him home ; but, contrary to
the mother's advice, the woman put a
basket of grocery on the sacks of corn

183

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. FEBRUARY 3.

184

One of the horses, in going down hill,
became restive, and overturned the cart ;
and by this accident the grocery was
much damaged. Because Ann Izzard had
advised her neighbour against putting it
in the cart, she charged her with upsetting
it by the black art, on purpose to spoil
the goods. In an hour, the whole village
was in an uproar. " She has just over-
turned a loaded cart with as much ease as
if it had been a spinning-wheel : this is posi-
tive proof; it speaks for itself; she is the
person that does all the mischief; and if
something is not done to put a stop to
her baseness, there will be no living in
the place.'' As it grew dark, on the fol-
lowing Sunday, these brutal creatures as-
sembled together, and at ten o'clock,
taking with them the young women sup-
posed to be bewitched, they proceeded to
Wright Izzard's cottage, which stood in a
solitary soot at some distance from the
body 01 tne village; they broke into the poor
man's house, dragged his wife naked from
her bed into the yard, dashed her head
against the large stones of the causeway,
tore her arms with pins, and beat her on
the face, breast, and stomach with the
wooden bar of the door. When the mob
had dispersed, the abused and helpless
woman crawled into her dwelling, put her
clothes on, and went to the constable,who
said he could not protect her for he had
not been sworn in. One Alice Russell,
a compassionate widow, unlocked her
door to her at the first call, comforted her,
bound up her wounds, and put her to bed.
In the evening of the next day she was
again dragged forth and her arms torn till
they streamed afresh with blood. Alive
the following morning, and apparently
likely to survive this attack also, her ene-
mies resolved to duck her as soon as the
labour of the day was over. On hearing this
she fled to Little Paxton, and hastily took
refuge in the house of Mr. Nicholson,who
effectually secured her from the cruelty of
his ignorant flock, and had the mortifica-
tion to learn that his own neighbours
condemned him for " harbouring such a
wretch."

The kindness and affection of the
widow Russel were the means of short-
ening her days. The infatuated popu-
lace cried, " The protectors of a witch
are just as bad as the witch, and deserve
the same treatment." She neither ate
nor slept again from anxiety and fear; but
died a martyr to her humanity in twelve
days after her home became the asylum,

for a few hours, of the unhappy Alk-e
Izzard.

At the Huntingdon resizes in the
August following, true bills of indictment
were found by the grand jury against
nine of these ignorant, infuriated wretches,
for assaults on Wright Izzard and Ann
Izzard, which were traversed to the fol-
lowing assizes.* It does not appear how
they were disposed of.

Captain Burt, an officer of engineers,
who, about the year 1730, was sent into
the north of Scotland on government ser-
vice, relates the following particulars of
an interview between himself and a mi-
nister, whom he met at the house of a
nobleman.

Witchcraft.

After the minister had said a good deal
concerning the wickedness of such a dia-
bolical practice as sorcery ; and that I, in
my turn, had declared my opinion of it,
which you knew many years ago ; he un-
dertook to convince me of the reality of
it by an example, which is as follows :

A certain Highland laird had found
himself at several times deprived of some
part of his wine, and having as often ex-
amined his servants about it, and none of
them confessing, but all denying it with
asseverations, he was induced to conclude
they were innocent.

The next thing to consider was, how
this could happen. Rats there were none
to father the theft. Those, you know, ac-
cording to your philosophical next-door
neighbour, might have drawn out the
corks with their teeth, and then put in
their tails, which, being long and sponge-
ous, would imbibe a good quantity of
liquor. This they might suck out again,
and so on, till they had emptied as many
bottles as were sufficient for their num-
bers and the strength of their heads. But
to be more serious : I say there was no
suspicion of rats, and it was concluded it
could be done by none but witches.

Here the new inquisition was set on
foot, and who they were was the question ;
but how should that be discovered ? To
go the shortest way to work, the laird
made choice of one night, and an hour
when he thought it might be watering-
time with the hags ; and went to his cellar

* Sermon against Witchcraft, preached at Great
Paxton, July 17, 1808, by the Rev. I. Mchol^on
STO.

185

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. FEBRUARY 3.

186

without a light, the better to surprise
them. Then, with his naked broad-
sword in his hand, he suddenly opened
the door, and shut it after him, and fell to
cutting and slashing all round about him,
till, at last, by an opposition to the edge
of his sword, he concluded he had at least
wounded one of them. But I should
have told you, that although the place was
very dark, yet he made no doubt, by the
glare and flashes of their eyes, that they
were cats ; but, upon the appearance of a
candle, they were all vanished, and only
some blood left upon the floor. I cannot
forbear to hint in this place at Don
Quixote's battle with the borachios of
wine.

There was an old woman, that lived
about two miles from the laird's habita-
tion, reputed to be a witch : her he
greatly suspected to be one of the confe-
deracy, and immediately he hasted away
to her hut ; and, entering, he found her
lying upon her bed, and bleeding excess-
ively.

This alone was some confirmation of
the justness of his suspicion ; but casting
his eye under the bed, there lay her leg
in its natural form.

I must confess I was amazed at the
conclusion of this narration ; but ten times
more, when, with the most serious air, he
assured me that he had seen a certificate
of the truth of it, signed by four ministers
of that part of the country, and could pro-
cure me a sight of it in a few days, if I
had the curiosity to see it.

When he had finished his story, I used
all the arguments I was master of, to show
him the absurdity of supposing that a wo-
man could be transformed into the shape
and diminutive substance of a cat; to
vanish like a flash of fire ; carry her leg
home with her, &c. : and I told him, that
if a certificate of the truth of it had been
signed by every member of the general
assembly, it would be impossible for me
(however strong my inclinations were to
believe) to bring my mind to assent to it.

To the Editor of the Every-Day Book.
Sir,

As a small matter of use and curiosity,
I beg to acquaint the readers of the
Every-Day Book with the means of deter-
mining the gradual increase of a plant.

Take a straight piece of wood, of a con-
venient height ; the upright piece, parked
A B in the figure, may be divided into as

many parts as you think fit, in the manner
of a carpenter's rule : lay across the top
of this another piece of wood, marked G
with a small wheel, or pulley, at each end
thereof, marked C D ; they should be su
fixed that a fine thread of silk may easily
run through each of them : at the end ot
this thread, E, tie a small weight, or poise,
and tie the other end of the thread, F, to
the tip-top of the plant, as represented iu
the figure.

To find the daily increase of this
plant, observe to what degree the knot F
rises every day, at a particular hour, or to
what degree the ball E descends every
day.

This little machine may serve several
good purposes. By this you will be able
to judge how much nourishment a plant
receives in the course of each day, and a
tolerably just notion may be formed of its
quality; for moist plants grow quicker
than dry ones, and the hot and moist
quicker than the cold and dry.
I am, sir,
Your constant reader,

S. THOMAS.

January 24th, 1826.

To the Editor of the Every-Day Book.
Sir,

Perhaps the following parody of Moore's
beautiful melody, " Those Evening Bells,"
on p. 143, may be acceptable to your
readers, at a time like the present, when
a laugh helps out the spirits against
matter-of-fact evils.

I do not think it necessary to avow
myself as an " authority " for my little

187

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. FEBRUARY 4.

188

communication; many of your readers
will, no doubt, be able to furnish feeling
evidence of the truth of the lines. Hoping
you, sir, may read them without parti-
cipating in the lively sensibility that the
author felt, I remain,

Your admiring reader,
and regular customer,
A SMALL BOOKSELLER !

City, Jan. 1826.

" These Christmas Bills /"

A COMMERCIAL MELODY, 1826.

These Christmas bills, these Christmas bills,
How many a thought their number kills
Of notes and cash, and that sweet time
When oft' I heard my sovereigns chime.

Those golden days are past away,
And many a bill I used to pay
Sticks on the file, and empty tills
Contain no cash for Christmas bills.

And so 'twill be though these are paid,
More Christmas bills will still be made,
And other men will fear these ills,
And curse the name of Christmas bills !

COPY OF A LETTER

Written to a Domestic at Parting.

The cheerfulness and readiness with
which you have always served me, has
made me interested in your welfare, and
determined me to give you a few words
of advice before we part. Read this at-
tentively, and keep it; it may, perhaps,
be useful.

Your honesty and principles are, I
firmly trust, unshaken. Consider them
as the greatest treasure a human being
can possess. While this treasure is in
your possession you can never be hurt,
let what will happen. You will indeed
often feel pain and grief, for no human
being ever was without his share of them ;
out you can never be long and completely
miserable but by your own fault.

If, therefore, you are ever tempted to
do evil, check the first wicked thought
that rises in your mind, or else you are
ruined. For you may look upon this as
a most certain and infallible truth, that if
evil thoughts are for a moment encou-
raged, evil deeds follow : and you need
not be told, that whoever has lost his
good conscience is miserable, however he
may hide it from the world, and whatever
wealth and pleasures he may enjoy.

And you may also rely upon this, that
the most miserable among the virtuous is

infinitely happier than the happiest of the
wicked.

The consequence I wish you to draw
from all this is, never to do any thing ex-
cept what you certainly know to be right ;
for if you doubt about the lawfulness ot
any thing, it is a sign that it ought not to
be done.

NATURALISTS CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature ... 40 32.

jfefiruarp 4.

CHRONOLOGY.

On the 4th of February, 1800, the rev,
William Tasker, remarkable for his leain-
ing and eccentricity, died, aged 60, at
Iddesleigh, in Devonshire, of which
church he was rector near thirty yeais,
though he had not enjoyed the income ol
the living till within five years before his
death, in consequence of merciless and se-
vere persecutions and litigations. " An
Ode to the Warlike Genius of Britain,
1778," 4to., was the first effusion of his
poetical talent. His translations of " Se-
lect Odes of Pindar and Horace " add to
his reputation with the muses, whose
smiles he courted by many miscellaneous
efforts. He wrote " Arviragus," a trage-
dy, and employed the last years of his
checkered life on a "History of Physi-
ognomy from Aristotle to Lavater,"
wherein he illustrated the Greek philoso-
pher's knowledge of the subject in a man-
ner similar to that which he pursued in
" An Attempt to examine the several
Wounds and Deaths of the Heroes in the
Iliad and ^E-neid, trying them by the Test
of Anatomy and Physiology." These eru-
dite dissertations contributed to his credit
with the learned, but added nothing to his
means of existence. He usually wore a
ragged coat, the shirt peeping at the el-
bows, and shoes of a brownish black,
sometimes tied with packthread. Having
heard that his spirited " Ode to the War-
like Genius of Britain" had been read by
the late king, George III., he presented
himself, in his customary habit, on the es
planade at Weymouth, where it excited
curiosity ; and his majesty asking an at-
tendant who that person was ? Mr. Tasker
approached, avowed his name, and ob-
tained a gratifying reception. His pro-
ductions evince critical skill, and a large
portion of poetic furor. Bu-t he was af-

189

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. FEBRUARY 4.

190

flicted and unsuccessful ; frequently strug-
gling with penury, and sometimes with
oppression. His irritability subjected him
to numerous mortifications, and inflicted
on him many pangs unknown to minds of
less feeling or less delicacy.

Mr. Nichols, in his "Literary Anec-
dotes," gives a letter he received from
Mr. Tasker, dated from Iddesleigh, in
December, 1798, wherein he says, "I
continue in very ill health, and confined
in my dreary situation at Starvation Hall,
forty miles below Exeter, out of the verge
of literature, and where even your exten-
sive magazine [< The Gentleman's '] has
never yet reached." The works he put
forth from his solitude procured him no
advancement in the church, and, in the
agony of an excruciating complaint, he
departed from a world insensible to his
merits : his widow essayed the publi-
cation of his works by subscription with-
out effect. Such was the fate of an eru-
dite and deserving parish priest, whose
right estimation of honourable independ-
ence barred him from stooping to the
meanness of flattery; he preserved his
self-respect, and died without preferment,
and in poverty.

A CHARACTER.

The Old Lady.

If the Old Lady is a widow and lives
alone, the manners of her condition and
time of life are so much the more appa-
rent. She generally dresses in plain silks
that make a gentle rustling as she moves
about the silence of her room ; and she
wears a nice cap with a lace border that
comes under the chin. In a placket at
her side is an old enamelled watch, unless
it is locked up in a drawer of her toilet
for fear of accidents. Her waist is rather
tight and trim than otherwise, as she had
a fine one when young ; and she is not
sorry if you see a pair of her stockings on
a table, that you may be aware of the
neatness of her leg and foot. Contented
with these and other evident indications
of a good shape, and letting her young
friends understand that she can afford to
obscure it a little, she wears pockets, and
uses them well too. In the one is her
handkerchief, and any heavier matter that
is not likely to come out with it, such as
the change of a sixpence; in the other is
a miscellaneous assortment, consisting of
a pocket-book, a bunch of keys, a needle-
case, a spectacle-case, crumbs of biscuit,

a nutmeg and grater, a smelling-bottle,
and according to the season, an orange or
apple, which, after many days, she draws
out, warm and glossy, to give to some
little child that has well behaved itself.
She generally occupies two rooms, in the
neatest condition possible. In the cham-
ber is a bed with a white coverlet, built up
high and round to look well, and with cur-
tains of a pastoral pattern, consisting al-
ternately of large plants, and shepherds
and shepherdesses. On the mantle-
piece also are more shepherds and
shepherdesses, with dot-eyed sheep at
their feet, all in coloured ware, the man
perhaps in a pink jacket and knots of rib-
bons at his knees and shoes, holding his
crook lightly in one hand, and with the
other at his breast turning his toes out
and looking tenderly at the shepherdess :
the woman, holding a crook also, and
modestly returning his look, with a gip-
sy-hat jerked up behind, a very slender
waist, with petticoat and hips to counter-
act, and the petticoat pulled up through
the pocket-holes in order to show the trim-
ness of her ancles. But these patterns, of
course, are various. The toilet is ancient,
carved at the edges, and tied about with
a snow-white drapery of muslin. Beside
it are various boxes, mostly japan : and
the set of drawers are exquisite things for
a little girl to rummage, if ever little girl
be so bold, containing ribbons arid laces
of various kinds, linen smelling of laven-
der, of the flowers of which there is al-
ways dust in the corners, a heap of
pocket-books for a series of years, and
pieces of dress long gone by, such as
head-fronts, stomachers, and flowered satin
shoes with enormous heels. The stock of
letters are always under especial lock and
key. So much for the bed-room. In the
sitting-room, is rather a spare assortment
of shining old mahogany furniture, or
carved arm-chairs equally old, with chintz
draperies down to the ground, a folding
or other screen with Chinese figures, their
round, little-eyed, meek faces perking side-
wise ; a stuffed bird perhaps in a glass
case (a living one is too much for her ;)
a portrait of her husband over the mantle-
piece, in a coat with frog-buttons, and a
delicate frilled hand lightly inserted in the
waistcoat: and opposite him, on the
wall, is a piece of embroidered literature,
framed and glazed, containing some moral
distich or maxim worked in angular capi-
tal letters, with two trees or parrots below
in their proper colours, the whole con-

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. FEBRUARY 4.

192

eluding with an A BC and numerals, and
the name of the fair industrious, express-
ing it to be " her work, Jan. 14, 1762."
The rest of the furniture consists of a
looking-glass with carved edges, perhaps
a settee, a hassock for the feet, a mat for
the little dog, and a small set of shelves,
in which are the Spectator and Guardian,
the Turkish Spy, a Bible and Prayer-book,
Young's Night-Thoughts, with a piece of
lace in it to flatten, Mrs. Rowe's Devout
Exercises of the Heart, Mrs. Glasse's
Cookery, and perhaps Sir Charles Gran-
dison, and Clarissa. John Buncle is in
the closet among the pickles and preserves.
The clock is on the landing-place between
the two room-doors, where it ticks audibly
but quietly; and the landing-place, as
well as the stairs, is carpeted to a nicety.
The house is most in character, and pro-
perly coeval, if it is in a retired suburb,
and strongly built, with wainscot rather
than paper inside, and lockers in the win-
dows. Before the windows also should
be some quivering poplars. Here the Old
Lady receives a few quiet visitors to tea
and perhaps an early game at cards ; or
you may sometimes see her going out on
the same kind of visit herself, with a light
umbrella turning up into a stick and
crooked ivory handle, and her little dog
equally famous for his love to her and
captious antipathy to strangers. Her
grandchildren dislike him on holidays;
and the boldest sometimes ventures to
give him a sly kick under the table.
When she returns at night, she appears,
if the weather happens to be doubtful, in
a calash ; and her servant, in pattens, fol-
lows half behind and half at her side, with
a lantern.

Her opinions are not many, nor new.
She thinks the clergyman a nice man.
The duke of Wellington, in her opinion,
is a very great man ; but she has a secret
preference for the marquis of Granby.
She thinks the young women of the pre-
sent day too forward, and the men not
respectful enough : but hopes her grand-
children will be better ; though she differs
with her daughter in several points re-
specting their management. She sets
little value on the new accomplishments :
is a great though delicate connoisseur in
butcher's meat and all sorts of house-
wifery : and if you mention waltzes, ex-
patiates on the grace and fine breeding of
the minuet. She longs to have seen one
danced by sir Charles Grandison, whom
she almost considers as a real person. She

likes a walk of a summer's evening, but
avoids the new streets, canals, &c. and
sometimes goes through the church-yard
where her other children and her husband
lie buried, serious, but not melancholy.
She has had three great aeras in her life,
her marriage, her having been at court
to see the king, queen, and royal family,
and a compliment on her figure she once
received in passing from Mr. Wilkes,
whom she describes as a sad loose man,
but engaging. His plainness she thinks
much exaggerated. If any thing takes
her at a distance from home, it is still the
court ; but she seldom stirs even for that.
The last time but one that she went was
to see the duke of Wirtemberg : and she
has lately been, most probably for the last
time of all, to see the princess Charlotte
and prince Leopold. From this beatific
rision, she returned with the same admi-
ration as ever for the fine comely appear-
ance of the duke of York and the rest of
the family, and great delight at having
had a near view of the princess, whom
she speaks of with smiling pomp and
lifted mittens, clasping them as passion-
ately as she can together, and calling her,
in a' sort of transport of mixed loyalty and
self-love, a fine royal young creature, and
daughter of England. Indicator.

The Season.

Sudden storms of short duration, th-i
last blusters of expiring winter, frequently
occur during the early part of the present
month. These gales and gusts are mostly
noticed by mariners, who expect them,
and therefore keep a good " look out for
squalls." The observations of seamen
upon the clouds, and of husbandmen on
the natural appearances v of the weather
generally, would form an exceedingly cu-
rious and useful compendium of meteoro-
logical facts.

Stilling the Sea with Oil.
Dr. Franklin suggests the pouring of
oil on the sea to still the waves in a
storm, but, before he lived, Martin wrote
an " Account of the Western Islands of
Scotland," wherein he says, " The steward
of Kilda, who lives in Pabbay, is accus-
tomed in time of a storm to tie a bundle
of puddings, made of the fat of sea-fowl,
to the end of his cable, and lets it fall into
the sea behind the rudder ; this, he says,
hinders the waves from breaking, and
calms the sea; but the scent of the grease
attracts the whales, which put the vessel
m danger."

103

THE EVEItt-DAY BOOK. FEBRUARY 5.

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature ... 38 34.

jfebruarp 5.

Brotone WHUte, e$q. fcfc. .

A Doctor in Antiquity was he,

And Tyson lined his head, as now you see.

Kind, good " collector !" why " collect" that storm ?

No rude attempt is made to mar his form ;

No alteration 's aim'd at here for, though

The artist's touch has help'd to make it show,

The meagre contour only is supplied

Is it improved ? compare, and then decide.

Had Tyson, from the life," Browne Willis sketch'd,

And left him, like old Jacob Butler,* etch'd,

This essay had not been, to better trace

The only likeness of an honour'd face. *

The present engraving, however un- picture painted by Dahl. There is no
winning its aspect as to drawing, is, in other portrait of " the great original" pub-
other respects, an improvement of the lished.
late Mr. Michael Tyson's etching from a

VOL. II. 59.

See "Every-DnyBooli," rol. i. p. 1303.

195

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. FEBRUARY 6, 7.

196

On the 5th of February, 1760, Dr.
Browne Willis died at Whaddon hall, in
the county of Bucks, aged 78 ; he v/as
born at St. Mary Blandford, in the county
of Dorset, on the 14th of September,
1682. He \vas unexcelled in eagerness
of inquiry concerning our national an-
tiquities, and his life was devoted to their
study and arrangement. Some interest-
ing particulars concerning the published
labours and domestic habits of this dis-
tinguished individual, will be given in a
subsequent sheet, with one of his letters,
not before printed, accompanied by a fac-
simile of his handwriting.

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature ... 39 20.

jfebruarp 6.

COLLOP MONDAY. See vol. i. p. 241.

The Season and Smoking.

At this time, Dr. Forster says that
people should guard against colds, and,
above all, against the contagion of typhus
and other fevers, which are apt to prevail
in the early spring. " Smoking tobacco,*
he observes, " is a very salutary practice
in general, as well as being a preventive
against infection in particular. The Ger-
man pipes are the best, and get better as
they are used, particularly those made of
merschaum, called Ecume de Mer. Next
to these, the Turkey pipes, with long
tubes, are to be recommended ; but these
are fitter for summer smoking, under the
shade of trees, than for the fireside. The
best tobacco is the Turkey, the Persian,
and what is called Dutch canaster.
Smoking is a custom which should be re-
commended in the close cottages of the
poor, and in great populous towns liable
to contagion.

The Rule of Health.

Rise early, and, take exercise in plenty,

But always take it with your stomach empty.

After your meals sit still and rest awhile,

And with your pipe a careless hour beguile.

To rise at light or five, breakfast at nine,

Lounge till eleven, and at'five to dine,

To drink and smoke till seven, the time of tea,

And then to dance or walk two hours away

Till ten o'clock, good hour to go to nest,

Till the next cock shall wake you from your rest.

On the virtues of tobacco its users en-
hance with mighty eloquence, and puff it
bravely.

In praise of Tobacco.

Much food doth gluttony procure

to feed men fat like swine,
But he's a frugal man indeed

who on a leaf can dine.

He needs no napkin for his hands,

his finger ends to wipe,
Who has his kitchen in a box,

his roast-meat in a pipe.

NATURALISTS CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature ... 39 47.

jftfbruarp 7.

1826. SHROVE TUESDAY.

Several of the customs and sports of
this day are related in vbl i. p. 242-261.
It is the last meat day permitted by the
papacy before Lent, which commences
to-morrow, and therefore in former times,
full advantage was taken of the expiring
opportunity to feast and make merry.
Selden observes, "that what the church
debars us one day, she gives us leave
to eat another first, there is a carni-
val, and then a Lent." This period is
also recorded in the homely rhymes oi
Barnaby Googe.

Shrove-tide.
Now when at length the pleasant time

of Shrove-tide comes in place,
And cruell fasting dayes at hand

approach with solemne grace .

197

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. FEBRUARY 8.

198

Then olde and yong are both as mad,

as ghestes of Bacchus' feast,
And foure dayes long they tipple square,

and feede and never reast.
Downe goes the hogges in every place,

and puddings every wheare
Do swarme : the dice are shakte and tost,

and cardes apace they teare :
In every house are showtes and cryes,

and mirth, and revell route,
And daintie tables spred, and all

be set with ghestes aboute :
With sundrie playes and Christmasse games,

and feare and shame away,
The tongue is set at libertie,

and hath no kinde of stay.

Naogeorgus.

The Great Seal in Danger.

February 7, 1677, about one in the
morning, the lord chancellor Finch's
mace was stolen out of his house in
Queen-street; the seal laid under his

Eillow, so the thief missed it. The
imous thief that did it was Thomas
Sadler, he was soon after taken, and
hanged for it at Tyburn on the 16th of
March.*

NATURALISTS CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature. . . 37- 37.

jftftruarp 8.

1826. ASH WEDNESPAY,
The First Day of Lent.

To the particulars concerning this day,
and the ashes, (in vol. i. p. 261,) is to be
added,that the ashes, made of the branches
of brushwood, properly cleansed, sifted,
and consecrated, were worn four times a
year, as at the beginning of Lent ; and
that on this day the people were excluded
from church, husbands and wives parted
bed, and the penitents wore sackcloth
and ashes.\

According to the Benedictine rule, on
Ash Wednesday, after sext, the monks were
to return to the cloister to converse ;
but, at the ringing of a bell, be instantly
silent. They were to unshoe themselves,
wash their hands, and go to church, and
make one common prayer* Then was to
follow a religious service ; after which the
priest, having consecrated the ashes, and
sprinkled holy water on them, was to

* Life of Ant. a Wood.
+ Fosbroke's British Monachism.

throw them on the heads of the monks,
saying, " Remember that you are but
dust, and to dust must return." Then
" the procession" was to follow.*

In former times, on the evening of Ash
Wednesday, boys used to run about with
firebrands and torches. f

Lent Assizes and Sessions.

These follow, in due course, after Hilary
Term, which is within a week of its ex-
piration. The importance of assize and
sessions business is frequently interrupted
by cases not more serious than

Cfte Crfal

Of Farmer Carters Dog
PORTER

dfov JHurtrtr.

Edward Long, esq., late judge of the
admiralty court of Jamaica, wrote and
published this " Trial,"| which is now
scarce, and here somewhat abridged from,
the original without other alteration.

He commences his report thus :
County of SEX-\

GOTHAM, ss.J
At a High Court of Oyer and Terminer

and Gaol-Delivery, holden this day

of 1771, at Gotham- Hall.

Present :

J. Bottle, ~Esq..

** j r**} *fu (Esqs., Just-asses and
Mat o the Mill, V A ^ oc ' iates .
Osmyn Ponser, J

GAME-ACT Plaintiff

versus

PORTER Defendant.

The Court being met, the indictment
was read, which we omit, for sake of
brevity.

Court. Prisoner, hold up your paw at
the bar.

First Counsel. He is sullen, and re*
fuses.

Court. Is he so ? Why then let t*
constable hold it up, nolens volens.
[Which was done, according to order/
Court. What is the prisoner's name*.
Constable. P-P-Po-rt-er, an't ple*
your worship.

Court. What does the fellow say ?
Constable. Porter! an't please you;
Porter !

* Fosbmke's British Monachism. t Ibid.
J Printed for T. Lowrides, 1771. 8vo.

159

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. FEIUIUARY 8

200

Mat. lie says Porter, It's the name
of a liquor the London kennel* much de-
light in.

Ponser. Ay, 'tis so; and 1 remember
another namesake of his. I was hand
in glove with him, I'll tell you a droll
story about him

Court. Hush, brother. Culprit, how
will you be tried ?

Counsel for the Prosecution. Please
your worship, he won't say a word.
Stat mutus as mute as a fish.

Court. How ? what ? won't the
dog speak ? Won't he do what the court
bids him ? What's to be done ? Is the
dignity of this court to be trifled with in
such a manner ?

Counsel for Pros. Please your wor-
shipsit is provided by the statute in
these cases, that when a culprit is stub-
born, and refuses to plead, he is to be
made to plead whether he will or no.

Court. Ay ? How's that, pray ?

Counsel for Pros. Why, the statute
says that he must first of all be thumb-
screwed

Court. Very good.

Counsel for Pros. If that will not do,
he must be laid flat on his back, and
squeezed, like a cheese in a press, with
heavy weights.

Court. Very well. And what then?

Counsel for Pros. What then? Why,
when all the breath is squeezed out of his
body, if he should still continue dumb,
which sometimes has been the case, he
generally dies for want of breath.

* His worship meant canaille.

Court. Very likely.

Counsel for Pros. And thereby saves
the court a great deal of trouble ; and
the nation, the expense of a halter.

Court. Well, then, since the land
stands thus constable, twist a cord about
the culprit's

Counsel for Pros. Fore-paws.

Constable. Four paws ? Why he has
but two.

Court. Fore-paws, or fore-feet, block-
head ! and strain it as tight as you can,
'till you make him open his mouth.

[The constable attempted to enforce the
order, but in drawing a little too
hard, received a severe bite.]

Constable. 'Sblood and suet! lie
has snapped off a piece of my nose.

Court. Mr. Constable, you are within
the statute of swearing, and owe the court
one shilling.

Constable. Zounds and death ! your
worships ! I could not kelp it for the
blood o' me.

Court. Now you owe us two shillings.

Constable. That's a d d bad

plaster, your worships, for a sore nose !

Court. That being but half an oath,
the whole fine amounts to two shillings
and sixpence, or a half-crown bowl. So,
without going further, if you are afraid of
his teeth, apply this pair of nut- crackers
to his tail.

Constable. I shall, your worships.
[He had better success with the tail, as
will now appear.]

Prisoner. Bow, trow, wow, ow,
tv ow !

Court. Hold! Enough. That will
do.

It was now held that though the pri-
soner expressed himself in a strange lan-
guage, yet, as he could speak no other,
and as the law can not only make dogs
to speak, but explain their meaning too,
so the law understood and inferred that
the prisoner pleaded not guilty, and put
himself upon his trial. Issue therefore
being joined, the Counsel for the Prose-
cution proceeded to address the Court;
but was stopped by the other side.

Prisoner's Counsel. I take leave to
demur to the jurisdiction of the court. If
he is to have a trial per pares, you must
either suppose their worships to be his
equals, that is to say, not his betters,
which would be a great indignity, or else
you must have a venire for a jury of
twelve dogs. I think you are fairly caught
in this dilemma.

201

THE EVER -DAY BOOK. FEBRUARY 8.

202

Counsel for Pros. By no means. It
's easily cured. We'll send the constable
with a Mandamus to his Grace '* kennel.

Pris. Counsel. They are fox hounds.
Not the same species ; therefore not his
equals. I do not object to the harriers,
aor to a tales de circumstantibus.

Counsel for Pros. That's artful,
brother, but it won't take. I smoke your
intention of garbling a jury. You know
the harriers will be partial, and acquit
your client at any rate. Neither will we
have any thing to do with your tales.

Mat. No no you say right. I hate
your tales and tale-bearers. They are a
rascally pack altogether.

Counsel for Pros. Besides, the statute
gives your worships ample jurisdiction in
this case ; and if it did not give it, your
worships know how to take it, because
the law says, boni est judicis ampliare
jurisdictionem.

Pris. Counsel. Then I demur for
irregularity. The prisoner is a dog, and
cannot be triable as a man ergo, not
within the intent of the statute.

Counsel for Pros. That's a poor sub-
terfuge. If the statute respects a man,
(a fortiori) it will affect a dog.

Ponser. You are certainly right. For
when I was in the Turkish dominions, I
saw an Hebrew Jew put to death for
killing a dog, although dog was the
aggressor.

Counsel for Pros. A case in point,
please your worship. And a very
curious and learned one it is. And the
plain induction from it is this, that the
Jew (who I take for granted was a man)
being put to death for killing dog, it
follows that said dog was as respectable
a person, and of equal rank in society
with the said Jew ; and therefore ergo
and moreover That, said dog, so slain,
was, to all and every purpose of legal
inference and intendment, neither more
nor less than a man.

Court. We are all clearly -of that
opinion.

Counsel for Pros. Please your wor-
ships of the honourable bench. On
Saturday the day of February

inst. on or about the hour of five in the
afternoon, the deceased Mr. Hare was
travelling quietly about his business, in a
certain highway or road leading towards
Muckingham ; and then, and there, the
prisoner at the bar being in the same
road, in and upon the body of the de-
ceased, with force and arms, a violent

assault did make ; and further, not hav-
ing the fear of your worships before his
eyes, but being moved and seduced by
the instigation of a devilish fit of hunger,
he the said prisoner did him the said
deceased, in the peace of our lord of the
manor then and there being, feloniously,
wickedly, wantonly, and of malice afore-
thought, tear, wound, pull, haul, touzle,
masticate, macerate, lacerate, and dislo-
cate, and otherwise evilly intreat; of
all and singular which tearings, wound-
ings, pullings, haulings, touzleings, masti-
cations, and so forth, maliciously inflicted
in manner and form aforesaid, the said
Hare did languish, and languishing did
die, in Mr. Just-ass Ponser' s horsepond,
to wit, and that is to say, contrary to the
statute in that case made and provided,
and against the peace of our said lord, his
manor and dignity.

This, please your worships, is the pur-
port of the indictment ; to this indictment
the prisoner has pleaded not guilty, and
now stands upon his trial before this
honourable bench.

Your worships will therefore allow me,
before I come to call our evidence, to ex-
patiate a little upon the heinous sin,
wherewith the prisoner at the bar is
charged. Hem ! To murder, Ehem
To murder, may it please your worships,
in Latin, is is Murder a re ; or in the
true and original sense of the vord, Mur-
der-ha-re. H-, as your worships well
know, being not as yet raised to the dig-
nity of a letter by any act of parliament, it
follows that it plainly is no other than
Murder-a-re, according to modern refined
pronunciation. The very root and ety-
mology of the word does therefore com-
prehend in itself a thousand volumes in
folio, to show the nefarious and abomina-
ble guilt of the prisoner, in the com-
mission and perpetration of this horrid
fact. And it must appear as clear as
sunshine to your worships, that the word
Murderare, which denotes the prisoner's
crime, was expressly and originally ap-
plied to that crime, and to that only, as
being the most superlative of all possible
crimes in the world. I do not deny that,
since it first came out of the mint, it has,
through corruption, been affixed to
offences of a less criminal nature, such as
killing a man, a woman, or a child. But
the sense of the earliest ages having
stamped hare-murder, or murder-ha-re,
(as the old books have it,) with such ex-
traordinary atrociousness, I am sure that

203

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. FEBRUARY 8.

204

Just-asses of yoi r worships' acknowledged
and well-knDwn wisdom, piely, erudition,
and humanity, will not, at this time of the
day, be persuaded to hold it less detesta-
ble and sinful. Having said thus much
on the nature of the prisoner's guilt, I
mean not to aggravate the charge, be-
cause I shall always feel due compassion
for my fellow-creatures, however wickedly
they may demean themselves. I shall
next proceed, with your worships' leave,
to call our witnesses. Call Lawrence
Lurcher and Toby Tunnel.

Prls. Counsel. I must object to swear-
ing these witnesses, I can prove, they
were both of them drunk, and non compos,
during the whole evening, when this fact
is supposed to have been committed.

Bottle. That will do you no service.
I am very often drunk myself, and never
more in my senses than at such times.

Court. We all agree in this point
with brother Bottle.

[Objection overruled and witnesses
sworn.]

Lurcher. As I, and Toby Tunnel here,
was a going hoam to squire Ponser's,
along the road, one evening after dark,
we sees the prisoner at the bar, or some-
body like him, lay hold of the deceased,
or somebody like him, by the back, an't
please your worships. So, says I, Toby,
says I, that looks for all the world like
one of 'squire Ponser's hares. So the
deceased cried out pitifully for help, and
jumped over a hedge, and the prisoner
after him, growling and swearing bitterly
all the way. So, says I, Toby, let's run
after 'urn. So I scrambled up the hedge ;
but Toby laid hold of my leg, to help him-
self up ; so both of us tumbled through a
thick furze bush into the ditch. So, next
morning, as we was a going by the
squire's, we sees the deceased in his wor-
ship's horse-pond.

Pris. Counsel. Are you sure he was
dead?

Lurcher. Ay, as dead as my great
grandmother.

Pris. Counsel. What did you do with
the body ?

Ponser. That's not a fair question.
It ought not to be answered.

Lurcher. I bean't ashamed nor afeard
to tell, not I. We carried it to his wor-
ship, squire Ponser ; and his worship had
him roasted, with a pudding in his belly,
for dinner, that seame day.

Council for Pros. That is nothing to

the purpose. Have you any more ques-
tions for the witness ?

Pris. Counsel. Yes, I have. Pray
friend, how do you know the body you
found was the very same you saw on the
evening before?

Lurcher. I can't tell ; but I'm ready
to take my bible oath on't.

Pris. Counsel. That is a princely ar-
gument, and I shall ask you nothing far-
ther.

Mrs. Margery Dripping, cook to his
worship squire Ponser, deposed to the
condition of the deceased.

DEFENCE

Prisoner's Counsel. Please your wor-
ships, I am counsel for the prisoner, who,
in obedience to your worships' commands,
has pleaded not guilty ; and I hope to
prove that his plea is a good plea ; and
that he must be acquitted by the justice
of his cause. In the first place, the wit-
nesses have failed in proving the prison-
er's identity. Next, they have not proved
the identity of the deceased. Thirdly,
they do not prove who gave the wounds.
Fourthly, nor to whom they were given.
Fifthly, nor whether the party died of the
wounds, if they were given, as supposed,
to this identical hare. For, I insist upon
it, that, because a hare was found in the
squire's horse-pond, non sequitur, that he
was killed, and thrown in by the defendant.
Or, if they had proved that defendant
had maliciously, and animo furioso, pur-
sued the deceased into the horse-pond, it
does not prove the defendant guilty of hi&
death, because he might owe his death to
the water ; and therefore, in that case,
the pond would be guilty ; and if guilty,
triable ; and if triable, punishable for the
same, and not my client. And I must
say,(under favour,) that his worship would
likewise be particeps criminis, for not
having filled it up, to prevent such acci-
dents. One evidence, who never saw the
prisoner till now, nor the deceased till
after the fact supposed to have happened,
declares, he is sure the prisoner killed the
deceased. And why? Because he is
ready to take his bible oath on't. This
is, to be sure, a very logical conviction.

Court. It is a very legal one, and
that's better.

Pris. Counsel. I submit to your wis-
doms. But I must conclude with observ-
ing, that admitting a part of the evidence
to be true, viz. that the prisoner did meet

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THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. FEBRUARY 8.

206

the deceased on the highway, and held
some conference with him ; I say, that
supposing this, for argument sake ; I do
insist, that Mr. Hare, the deceased, was
not following a lawful, honest business, at
that late hour; but was wickedly and
mischievously bent upon a felonious de-
sign, of trespassing on farmer Carter's
ground, and stealing, consuming, and
carrying off, his corn and his turnips. I
Airther insist that the defendant, know-
ing this his felonious and evil machina-
tion, and being resolved to defend the
property of his good friend and patron
from such depredations, did endeavour to
divert him from it. Which not being able
to effect by fair means, he then was obliged
to try his utmost, as a good subject and
trusty friend, to seize and apprehend his
person, and bring him, per habeas corpus,
before your worships, to be dealt with ac-
cording to law. But the deceased being
too nimble for him, escaped out of his
clutches, and tumbling, accidentally, in the
dark, into his worship's horse-pond, was
there drowned. This is, I do not doubt,
a true history of the whole affair ; and
proves that, in the strictest construction
of law, it can only be a case of per infor-
tunium unless your worships should ra-
ther incline to deem it afeio de se.

Noodle. A fall in the sea ! No such
thing : it was only a horse-pond, that's
clear from the evidence.

Pris. Counsel. Howsoever your wor-
ships may think fit to judge of it, I do
humbly conceive, upon the whole matter,
that the defendant is not guilty ; and I
hope your worships, in your wisdoms,
will concur with me in opinion, and
acquit him.

The Counsel for the Prosecution replied
in a long speech. He contended that Mr.
Hare, the deceased, was a peaceable,
quiet, sober, and inoffensive sort of a per-
son, beloved by king, lords, and commons,
and never was known to entertain any
idea of robbery, felony, or depredation,
but was innocently taking the air, one af-
ternoon, for the benefit of his health, when
he was suddenly accosted, upon his ma-
jesty's highway, by the prisoner, who im-
mediately, and bloody-minded ly, without
saying a syllable, made at him, with so
much fury in his countenance, that the
deceased was put in bodily fear; and
being a lover of peace, crossed the other
side of the way : the prisoner followed
him close, and pressed him so hard, that
he was obliged to fly over hedge and

ditch with the prisoner at his heels. It
was at this very juncture they were ob-
served by the two witnesses first examin-
ed. The learned counsel further affirmed
from circumstances, which he contended
amounted to presumptive evidence, that,
after various turnings and windings, in
his endeavour to escape, his foot slipped,
and the prisoner seized him and inflicted
divers wounds ; but that the deceased
finding means to get away, took to the
pond, in order to swim across ; when
the prisoner, running round the pond in-
cessantly, prevented his escape : so that,
faint and languishing under his wounds
and loss of blood, the hapless victim there
breathed his last, in manner and form as
the indictment sets forth. He also
alleged that, as Mr. Hare lived within
his worship's territory, where there are
several more of the same family, he
could not, therefore, be ; going to farmer
Carters; for that would have been ab-
surd, when he might have got corn and
turnips enough on his worship's own
ground. Can there, said the learned gen-
tleman, be a stronger, a weightier, a
surer, a a a ?

Court. We understand you It is as
clear as crystal.

[Their worships in consultation.]
Court. Has the prisoner's counsel
any thing further to offer in his behalf ?
Pris. Counsel. Call farmer Carter.
Pray, farmer Carter, inform the court
what you know of the prisoner's life, cha-
racter, and behaviour.

Carter. I have known the prisoner these
several years. He has lived in my house
great part of the time. He was always
sober

Court. Never the honester for that.
Well, go on.

Carter. Sober, honest, sincere, trusty,
and careful. He was one of the best and
most faithful friends I ever knew. He
has many a time deterred thieves from
breaking into my house at night, and mur-
dering me and my family. He never
hated nor hurt any body but rogues and
night-walkers. He performed a million
of good offices for me, for no other re-
compense than his victuals and lodging ;
and seemed always happy and contented
with what I could afford him, however
scanty the provision. He has driven away
many a fox that came to steal my geese
and turkies ; and, for taking care of a
flock of sheep, there is not his equal in
the county. In short, whenever he dies

207

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. FEBRUARY 8.

208

I shall Jose my best friend, my best ser-
vant, and most vigilant protector. 1 am
positive that he is as innocent as a babe
of the crime charged upon him; for he
was with me that whole evening, and
supped and slept at home. He was
indeed my constant companion, and we
were seldom or never asunder. If your
worships please, I'll be bail for him from
five pounds to five hundred.

Court. That cannot be : it is notaftazV-
able offence. Have you any thing else to
say, Mr. Positive?

Carter. Say ? I think I've said enough,
if it signified any thing.

Bottle. Drag him away out of hearing.

Carter. I will have justice! You, all of
ye, deserve hanging more than your pri-
soner, and you all know it too.

Court. Away with him, constable.
Scum of the earth ! Base-born peasant !
[ Carter is hauled out of the court, after a
stout resistance.]

Court. A sturdy beggar I We must find
out some means of wiring that fellow !

The Counsel for the Prosecution prayed
sentence of death upon the culprit at the
bar.

Court. How says the statute ? Are we
competent for this?

Counsel for Pros. The statute is, I con-
fess, silent. But silence gives consent.
Besides, this is a case of the first impres-
sion, and unprovided for by law. It is
your duty, therefore, as good and wise
magistrates of the Hundreds of Gotham,
to supply this defect of the law, and to
suppose that the law, where it says no-
thing, may be meant to say, whatever your
worships shall be pleased to make it.

Bottle. It is now incumbent upon me
to declare the opinion of this high and
right worshipful court here assembled.

Shall the reptile of a dunghill, a paltry
muckworm, a pitch-fork fellow, presume
for to go for to keep a dog ? and not
only a dog, but a dog that murders hares ?
Are these divine creatures, that are reli-
giously consecrated to the mouths alone of
squires and nobles, to become the food of
garlic-eating rogues ? It is a food, that
nature and policy forbid to be contami-
nated by their profane teeth. It is by far
too dainty for their robustious constitu-
tions. How are our clayey lands to be
turned up and harrowed, and our harvests
to be got in, if our labourers, who should
strengthen themselves with beef and ale,
should come to be fed with hare, partridge,
and pheasant ? Shall we sufl'er our giants

to be nourished with mince-meat and
pap ? Shall we give our horses chocolate
and muffins ? No, gentlemen. The brains
of labourers, tradesmen, and mechanics,
(if they have any,) should ever be sodden
and stupified with the grosser aliments of
bacon and dumpling. What is it, but the
spirit of poaching, that has set all the lower
class, the canaille, a hunting after hare's-
flesh ? You see the effects of it gentle-
men ; they are all run mad with polities,
resist their rulers, despise their magis-
trates, and abuse us in every corner of the
kingdom. If you had begun hanging of
poachers ten years ago, d'ye think you
would have had one left in the whole king-
dom by this time ? No, I'll answer for it ;
and your hares would have multiplied, till
they had been as plenty as blackberries,
and not left a stalk of corn upon the
ground. This, gentlemen, is the very
thing we ought to struggle for ; that these
insolent clowns may come to find, that the
only use they are good for, is to furnish
provision for these animals. In short,
gentlemen, although it is not totally clear
from the evidence, that the prisoner is
guilty ; nevertheless, hanged he must and
ought to be, in terrorem to all other
offenders.

Therefore let the culprit stand up, and
hearken to the judgment of the court.

Constable. Please your worship, he's up.

Bottle. Porter ! Thou hast been found
guilty of a most daring, horrible, and
atrocious crime. Thou hast, without being
qualified as the law directs, and without
licence or deputation from the lord of the
manor, been guilty of shedding inno-
cent blood. In so doing, thou hast bro-
ken the peace of the realm, -set at naught
the laws and statutes of thy country, and
(what is more than all these) offended
against these respectable personages, who
have been sitting in judgment upon thee.
For all this enormity of guilt, thy life doth
justly become forfeit, to atone for such
manifold injuries done to our most excel-
lent constitution. We did intend, in
Christian charity, to have given some mo-
ments for thy due repentance, but, as the
hour is late, and dinner ready, now hear
thy doom.

Thou must be led from the bar to the
end of the room, where thou art to be
hanged by the neck to yonder beam, co-
ram nobis, till you are dead, dead, dead /
Hangman, do your duty.

Constable. Please your worships, all is
ready.

209

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. FEBRUARY 9.

210

Ponser. Hoist away, then, hoist away.
[Porter is tucked up.]

Mat. Come, it seems to be pretty well
over with him now. The constable has
given him a jerk, and done his business.

Bottle. He's an excellent fellow.

Ponser. The best informer in the whole
county.

Bottle. And must be well encouraged,

Ponser. He shall never want a licence,
whilst 7 live.

Noodle. Come, shall we go to dinner ?

Bottle. Ay he'll never course hares
again in this world. Gentlemen, the court
is adjourned*

[Exeunt omnes.

EPITAPH,

Composed liy Sam. Snivel, the parish clerk,
proposed to be put, at Farmer Carter's
expense, on the unfortunate malefactor's
tombstone :

Here lie the remains

of
honest PORTER ;

who,

after an innocent and well-spent life,
was dragged hither, and

tried,

for a crime he never committed,

upon laws to which he was unamenable,

before men who were no judges,

found guilty without evidence,

and hanged without mercy :
to give to future ages an example,

that the spirit
of Turkish despotism, tyranny, and

oppression,
after glutting itself with the conquest of

liberty

in British men,
has stooped at length to wreak its bloody

vengeance

on British dogs !

Anno Dom. 1771.

Requiescat in pace !

S. S.

This humorous " Trial" was written
in consequence of " a real event which
actually took place, in1 771, near Chiches-
ter." The persons who composed the
court are designated by fictitious names ;
but to a copy of the pamphlet, in the
possession of the editor of the Every-day
Booh, there is a manuscript-key to their
identity. The affair is long past, and
they are therefore added in italics.

'SQUIRES.
J. Bottle Butler.
A. Noodle Aldridge.
Mat o' the Mill Challen.
O. Ponser Bridger.
It appears that " the actors in tne
tragedy were well known by their nick-
names, given in Mr. Long's pamphlet."

Edward Long, esq. was called to the
bar in 1757, and sailed immediately for
Jamaica, where he, at first, filled the post
of private secretary to his brother-in-law,
sir Henry Moore, bart , then lieutenant-
governor of the island. He was after-
wards appointed judge of the vice-admi-
ralty court, and left the island in 1769.
The remainder of his long life was spent
in England, and devoted to literature.
Mr. Long's first production was the face-
tious report of the case of " Farmer Car-
ter's Dog Porter." He wrote ably on
negro slavery, the sugar trade, and the
state of the colonies ; but his most dis-
tinguished work is " The History of Ja-
maica," in three quarto volumes, which
contains a large mass of valuable infor-
mation, much just reasoning, and many
spirited delineations of colonial scenery
and manners, and is almost as rare as
the curious and amusing tract that has
contributed to the preceding pages. He
was born on the 23d of August, 1734,
at Rosilian, in the parish of St. Blaize,
Cornwall, and died, on the 13th of
March, 1813, at the house of his son-in-
law, Henry Howard Molyneux, esq. M.P.
of Arundel Park, Sussex, aged 79. Fur-
ther particulars of his life, writings, and
family, are in Mr. Nichols's " Literary
Anecdotes," and the " Gentleman's Ma-
gazine," vol. Ixxiii., from whence this
brief notice is extracted.

NATURALISTS CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature ... 37 27.

jftfbntarp 9.

St. Apollonia.

She is^called, by Butler, " the admirable
Apollonia, whom old age and the state
of virginity rendered equally venerable."
He relates, that in a persecution of the
Christians, stirred up by " a certain poet
of Alexandria," she was seized, and all
her teeth were beaten out, with threats
that she should be cast into the fire, " if

211

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK FEBRUARY 9.

212

she did not utter certain impious words ;"
whereupon, of her own accord, she leaped
into the flames. From this legend, St.
Apollonia is become the patron saint of
persons afflicted by tooth-ach.

In the " Horae B. Virginis" is the fol-
lowing prayer :
(( f\ Saint Apollonia, by thy passion,

V-T obtain for us the remission of
all the sins, which, with teeth and mouth,
we have committed through gluttony and
speech ; that we may be delivered from
pain and gnashing of teeth here and here-
after ; and loving cleanness of heart, by
the grace of our lips we may have the
king of angels our friend. Amen."

If her. teeth and jaws in Romish
churches be good evidence, St. Apollo-
nia tmperab i nded in these faculties ; the

number of the former is surprising to all
who disbelieve that relics of the saints
multiply of themselves. A church at
Bononia possesses her lower jaw, " which
is solemnly worshipped by the legate ;"
St. Alban's church at Cologne also has
her lower jaw each equally genuine and
of equal virtue.

CHRONOLOGY.

1555. On the 9th of February in this
year, Dr. Rowland Taylor, vicar of Had-
leigh in Suffolk, one of the first towns in
England that entertained the Reforma-
tion, suffered death there for resisting the
establishment of papal worship in his
church. The engraving beneath is a cor-
rect representation of an old stone com-
memorative of the event, as it appeared
in 1825, when the drawing was made
from it, by a gentleman who obligingly
transmits it for the present purpose.

AUTEMDHjGvTHAT

' - TH*SPLASLBFT

HI .SRI-ODE

Besides the rude inscription on this old
stone, as it is represented in the engrav-
ing, there is another on a neat monument
erected by the side of the original in 1818.

The lines are as follows : they were sup-
plied by the Rev. Dr. Hay Drummond,
rector of Hadleigh.

Mark this rude Stone, where Taylor dauntless stood,
Where Zeal infuriate drank the Martyr's blood :
Hadleigh ! that day, how many a tearful eye
Saw the lov'd Pastor dragg'd a Victim by ;
Still scattering gifts and blessings as he past
"To the blind pair" his farewell alms were cast ;
His clinging flock e'en here around him pray'd
""As thou hast aided us, be God thine aid ;"

213

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. FEBRUARY 9.

214

Nor taunts, nor bribes of mitred rank, nor stake,
Nor blows, nor flames, his heart of firmness shake ;
Serene his folded hands, his upward eyes,
Like Holy Stephen's, seek the opening skies ;
There, fix'd in rapture, his prophetic sight
Views Truth dawn clear, on England's bigot night ;
Triumphant Saint! he bow'd, and kiss'd the rod,
And soar'd on Seraph-wing to meet his God.

Rowland Taylor was " a doctor in both
the civil and canon lawes, and a right
perfect divine." On induction to his be-
nefice, he resided with his flock, " as a
good shepherd abiding and dwelling
among his sheep," and " not only was
his word a preaching unto them, but all
his life and conversation was an example
of unfained Christian life, and true holi-
nesse : he was void of all pride, humble
and meeke as any child, so that none
were so poore, but they might boldly, as
unto their father, resort unto him ; neither
was his lowlinesse childish or fearfull ;
but, as occasion, time, and place required,
he would be stout in rebuking the sinfull
and evil doers, so that none was so rich,
but he would tell him plainly his fault,
with such earnest and grave rebukes as
became a good curate and pastor." He
continued in well-doing at Hadleigh dur-
ing the reign of king Edward VI. till the
days of queen Mary, when one Foster, a
lawyer, and one John Clerk, of Hadley,
" hired one Averth, parson of Aldam, a
right popish priest, to come to Hadley,
and there to give the onset to begin again
the popish masse : to this purpose they
builded up, with all haste possible, the
altar, intending to bring in their masse
again about the Palme Munday." The
altar was thrown down in the night, but
on the following day it was replaced, and
the Aldam priest entered the church,
attended by Foster and Clerk, and guarded
by men with swords and bucklers. Dr.
Taylor, who was in his study, and igno-
rant of this irruption, hearing the church
bells ring, repaired thither, and found the
priest, surrounded by his armed force,
ready to begin mass, against whom he
was unable to prevail, and was himself
thrust, " with strong hand, out of the
church/' Two days afterwards, he was
summoned by Gardiner, bishop of Win-
chester, to come before him at London,
and answer complaints. His friends
counselled him to fly, but Taylor deter-
mined to meet his enemies, " and, to their
beards, resist their false doings." He took

his departure amidst their weeping,
" leaving his cure with a godly old priest
named sir Richard Yeoman, who after-
wards, for God's truth, was burnt at
Norwich." On his appearance, bishop
Gardiner, who was also lord chancellor,
reviled him, " calling him knave, traitor,
heretike, with many other villainous re-
proaches." Taylor listened patiently : at
last he said, " My lord, I am neither
traitor nor heretike, but a true subject,
and a faithfull Christian man; and am
come, according to your commandment,
to know what is the cause that your lord-
ship hath sent for me ?" The bishop
charged upon him that he was married.
"Yea," quoth Taylor, " that I thank God
I am, and have had nine children, and
all in lawful matrimony ; and blessed be
God that ordained matrimony." Then
the bishop charged him with having
resisted the priest of Aldam in saying
mass at Hadleigh. Taylor also admitted
this, and, after stout dispute, was com-
mitted to the king's bench, where he
spent his time in praying, reading the
scriptures, writing, preaching, and exhort-
ing the prisoners to repentance and
amendment of life. There he found
" master Bradford," whom he comforted
by his courage. While imprisoned, he
was cited to appear " in the Arches at
Bow church," and was carried thither,
and u deprived of his benefice because he
was married." On the 20th of January,
1555, Taylor was again taken before
Gardiner and other bishops. He gives a
long account of his disputations with
them on that and like occasions. They
urged him, and others with him, to re-
cant : the prisoners refused, and " then
4he bishops read sentence of death upon
them."

After condemnation, Dr. Taylor was
" bestowed in the Clinke till it was toward
night, and then he was removed to the
counter by the Poultry." On the 4th of
February, Bonner, bishop of London,
came to the counter to degrade him ; first
wishing him to return to the church of

215

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. FEBRUARY 9

21ft

Rome, and promising him to sue for his
pardon. Whereunto Taylor answered,
" I woulde you and your fellowes would
turne to Christ ; as for me I will not turn
toAntichrist." " Well," quoth the bishop,
* I am come to degrade you, wherefore

ut on these vestures." " No," quoth
octor Taylor, " I will not." Wilt
thou not V said the bishop. " I shall
make thee, ere I goe." Quoth doctor
Taylor, " You shall not, by the grace of
God." Then Bonner caused another to
put them on his back ; and when thus
arrayed, Taylor, walking up and down,
said, " How say you, my lord, am I not
a goodly fool ? How say you, my mas-
ters ; if I were in Cheap, should I not
have boys enough to laugh at these apish
toys, and toying trumpery ?" The bishop
proceeded, with certain ceremonies, to his
purpose, till at the last, when, according
to the form, he should have struck Taylor
on the breast with his crosier, the bishop's
chaplain said, " My lord, strike him not,
for he will sore strike again." Taylor
favoured the chaplain's suspicion. " The
cause," said he, " is Christ's ; and I
were no good Christian if I would not
fight in my master's quarrel." It appears
that " the bishop la id his curse upon him,
but struck him not ;" and after all was
over, when he got up stairs, " he told
master Bradford (for both lay in one
chamber) that he had made the bishop
of London afraid ; for, saith he, laugh-
ingly, his chaplain gave him counsell not
to strike with his crosier-staff, for that I
would strike again; and by my troth,
said he, rubbing his hands, I made him
believe I would doe so indeed."

Thus was Taylor still cheerful from
rectitude. In the. afternoon his wife, his
son, and John Hull his servant, were per-
mitted to sup with him. After supper,
walking up and down, he impressively
exhorted them, with grave advice, to good
conduct and reliance on Providence.
" Then they, with weeping tears, prayed
together, and kissed one the other ; and
he gave to his wife a book of the church
service, set out by king Edward, which
in the time of his imprisonment he daily
used ; and unto his sonne Thomas he gave
a latinp booke, containing the notable say-
ings of the old martyrs, gathered out of
Ecclesiastica Historia; and in the end of
that booke he wrote his testament and last
vale" In this *' vale," dated the 5th of
February, he says to his family, " I goe
before, and you shall follow after, to our

long home. I goe to the rest of my chil-
dren. I have bequeathed you to the
onely Omnipotent." In the same paper
he, tells his " dear friends of Hadley, to
remain in the light opened so plainely
and simply, truly, throughly, and gene-
rally in all England," for standing in
which he was to die in flames.

In the morning at two o'clock, the
sheriff of London with his officers brought
him, without light, from the counter to
Aldgate. His wife, suspecting that he
would be carried away thus privately, had
watched, from the time they had parted,
within the porch of St. Botolph's church,
having her daughter Mary with her, and
a little orphan girl named Elizabeth,
whom the honest martyr had reared from
three years old to her- then age of thir-
teen : and when the sheriff and his com-
pany came nigh to where they stood, the
child Elizabeth cried, " O my dear father !
Mother, mother, here is my father led
away." The darkness being so great that
the one could not see the other, his wife
cried, " Rowland, Rowland, where art
thou ?" Taylor answered, " Dear wife !
I am here," and he stayed; and the sheriffs
men would have forced him, but the sheriff
said, " Stay a little, my masters, I pray
you, and let him speak to his wife." Then
ne took his daughter Mary in his arms,
and he, and his wife, and the orphan girl
kneeled and prayed ; and the sheriff, and
many who were present, wept ; and he
arose and kissed his wife, and shook her
by the hand, and said. " Farewell, my
dear wife,be of good comfort, for I am quiet
in my conscience ; God shall stir up a father
for my children." He had three others, be-
sides his daughter Mary and the young
Elizabeth, He then kissed Mary, and then .
Elizabeth, and he bade them, also, fare-
well/and enjoined them to stand steadfast
in their faith. His weeping wife said,
" God be with thee, dear Rowland, I
will, with God's grace, meet thee at Had-
leigh." Then he was led on to the Wool-
sack inn, at Aldgate, where he was put in
a chamber, under the custody of four yeo-
men of the guard and the sheriffs men.
Here his wife again desired to see him, but
was restrained by the sheriff, who other-
wise treated her with kindness, and
offered her his own house to abide in ; but
she preferred to go to her mother's, whi-
ther two officers conducted her, charging
her mother to keep her within till their
return.

Meantime so soon as Taylor euterel

217

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK FEBRUARY 9.

213

the chamber he prayed ; and he remained
at the inn until the sheriff of Essex was
ready to receive him. At eleven o'clock
the inn gates were shut, and then he
was put on horseback within the gates.
When they arrived outside, Taylor saw his
son Thomas standing against the rails, in
the care of his man John Hull ; and he
said, " Come hither, my son Thomas."
John Hull lifted the child up, and set him
on the hot se before his father; and Taylor
put off his hat, and spoke a sentence or
two to the people in behalf of matrimony,
and then he lifted up his eyes and prayed
for his son, and laid his hat on the child's
head, and blessed him. This done he de-
livered the child to John Hull, whom he
took by the hand, and he said to him,
" Farewell, John Hull, the faithfullest
servant that ever man had." Having so
said, he rode forth with the sheriff of
Essex and the yeomen of the guard to go
to his martyrdom in Suffolk.

When they came near to Brentwood,
one Arthur Taysie, who had been ser-
vant to Taylor, supposing him free,
took him by the hand and said, " Master
Doctor, I am glad to see you again at
liberty ;" but the sheriff drove him back.
At Brentwood, a close hood was put over
Taylor's face, with holes for his eyes to
look out at, and a slit for his mouth to
oreathe through. These hoods were used
at that place to be put on the martyrs that
they should not be known, and that they
should not speak to any one, on the road
to the burning-places.

Yet as they went, Taylor was so cheer-
ful, and talked to the sheriff and his
guards in such wise, that they were
amazed at his constancy. At Chelmsford
they 'met the sheriff of Suffolk, who was
there to carry him into his county. At
that time he supped with the two sheriffs.
The sheriff of Essex laboured during sup-
per to persuade him to return to queen
Mary's religion, telling him that all pre-
sent would use their suit to the queen for
his pardon, nor doubted they could obtain
it. The sheriff reminded him, that he
had been beloved for his virtues, and
honoured for his learning; that, in the
course of nature, he was likely to live
many years ; and that he might even be
higher esteemed than ever ; wherefore he
prayed him to be advised : " This counsel
I give you," said the sheriff, " of a good
heart and good will towards you ;" and,
thereupon he drank to him ; and the yeo-
men of the guard said, " In like manner,

upon that condition, master Doctor, we
all drink to you." When they had so
done, and the cup D0.me to Taylor, he
staid awhile, as studying what he might
say, and then answered thus : " Mastei
sheriff, and my masters all, I heartily
thank you for your good will. I have
hearkened to your words and marked
well your counsels ; and to be plain with
you, I do perceive that I have been de-
ceived myself, and am likely to deceive a
great many of their expectation." At
these words they were exceedingly glad.
" Would ye know my meaning plainly ?"
he said. "Yea, gooi master Doctor,' 7 an-
swered the sheriff, < tell it us plainly."
"Then," said Taylor, " I will tell you:" and
he said, that, as his body was of consider-
able bulk, and as he thought, if he had
died in his bed, it would have been
buried in Hadleigh church-yard, so he
had deceived himself; and, as there were
a great many worms there abiding, which
would have mealed handsomely upon
him, so they, as well as himself, were de-
ceived ; " for" said ne, " it must be burnt
to ashes, and they will thereby lose their
feeding." The sheriff' and his company
were thereupon astonished at him, as
being a man without fear of death, and
making a jest of the flames. During
their progress, many gentlemen and ma-
gistrates were admitted to see him, and
entreated him, in like manner, but he re-
mained immovable.

Thus they drew near to Hadleigh : and
when they rode over Hadleigh bridge, a
poor man with his five small children
awaited their coming. When they saw
Taylor, they all fell down on their knees
and held up their hands, and cried aloud,
" God help and succour thee, as thou
hast many a time succoured me and my
poor children." The streets of Hadleigh
were crowded on each side by men and
women, of the town and country, sorely
weeping, and with piteous voices loudly
bewailing the loss of their pastor, praying
that he might be strengthened and com-
forted in his extremity, and exclaiming,
" What shall become of this wicked
world !" Taylor said, " I have preached to
you God's word and truth, and am come
to seal it with my blood." When he came
to the almshouses, he put some money,
that had been bestowed on him during
his imprisonment, into a glove, and this
he is said to have given to the poor alms-
men as they stood at their doors, to see
their wonted benefactor pass At the

219

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. FEBRUARY 9.

220

last of the almshouses he inquired, " Is
the blind man, and blind woman, that
dwelt here, alive ?" He was answered,
" Yes ; they are there, within." Then he
threw glove and all in at the window,
and so rode forth towards the field of
his death.

Coming where a great multitude were
assembled, he asked, " What place is
this, and what meaneth it that so much
people are gathered hither ?" It was
answered, " This is Aldham common, the
place where you must suffer." He said,
" Thanked be God, I am even at home."
Then he alighted from his horse, and with
both his hands rent the hood from his
head. His hair was unseemly, for Bonner,
when he degraded him, had caused it to
be clipped in manner of a fool's. At the
sight of his ancient and reverend face, and
his long white beard, the people burst
into tears, and prayed for him aloud. He
would have spoken to them, but when-
ever he attempted, one or other of the
yeomen of the guard thrust a tipstaff into
his mouth.

Then he desired licence to speak, of the
sheriff ; but the sheriff refused him, and
bade him remember his promise to the
council : " Well," quoth Taylor, "promise
must be kept." What the promise was is
unknown. Seating himself on the ground
he called to one in the crowd, " Soyce, I
pray thee come and pull off my boots, and
take them for thy labour ; thou hast long
looked for them, now take them." Then
he arose, and putting off his under-
clothes, them also he bestowed. This
done, he cried with a loud voice, " Good
people ! I have taught you nothing but
God's holy word, and those lessons that I
have taken out of God's blessed book, the
Holy Bible ; and I am come hither this
day to seal it with my blood." OneHolmes,
a yeoman of the guard,who had used him
cruelly all the way, then struck him a
violent blow on the head " with a waster,"
and said, " Is that the keeping of thy pro-
mise, thou heretick ?" Whereupon Taylor
knelt on the earth and prayed, and a
poor, but faithful woman, stepped from
among the people to pray with him : the
guards would fain have thrust her away,
they threatened to tread her down with
their horses, but she was undismayed, and
would not remove, but remained and
prayed with him. Having finished his
devotions he went to the stake, and kissed
it, and placed himself in a pitch-barrel

which had been set for him to stand in ;
and he stood with his back upright
against the stake, and he folded his hands
together, and he lifted his eyes towards
heavpn, and he prayed continually. Then
they bound him with chains, and the
sheriff called one Richard Donningham,
a butcher, and commanded him to set up
the faggots, but he said, " I am lame, sir,
and not able to lift a faggot.'' The she-
riff threatened to send him to prison, but
the man refused to obey his command
notwithstanding. Then the sheriff ap-
pointed to this labour one Mullcine of
Carsey, " a man for his virtues fit to be a
hangman." Soyce, a very drunkard,
a man named Warwick, and one Ro-
bert King, " a deviser of interludes."
These four set up the faggots, and pre-
pared for making ready the fire, and
Warwick cast a faggot at the martyr,
which lit upon his head and wounded his
face, so that the blood ran down. Taylor
said, " O, friend ! I have harm enough,
what .needed that?" Then, while he re-
peated the psalm Miserere, in English,
sir John Shelton struck him on the mouth :
" You knave," said he, " speak Latin ; or
I will make thee." At last they set the
faggots on fire, and Taylor, holding
up both his hands, called on God, crying,
" Merciful Father of Heaven ! for Jesus
Christ our saviour's sake, receive my soul
into thy hands !" He stood, during his
burning, without crying or moving, till
Soyce struck him on the head with a hal-
berd, and the brains falling out, the
corpse fell down into the fire.*

While some may deem this narrative of
Rowland Taylor's conduct too circum-
stantial, others perhaps may not so deem.
It is to be considered as exemplifying the
manners of the period wherein the event
occurred, and may at least be acceptable
to many. It will assuredly be approved by
a few who regard inflexible adherence to
principle, at the hazard of death itself, as
preferable to a conscience-consuming sub-
serviency, which, while it truckles to what
the mind judges to be false, depraves the
heart, and saps the foundations of public
virtue.

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature ... 39 05.

* Acts and Monuments.

221

THE EVERYDAY BOOK. -FEBRUARY 10, 11,12,13. 222

jfebruarp 10.

Biographical Notice.

1818. On this day died in London,
captain Thomas Morris, aged 74, a man
of highly cultivated 'mind, who was born
in its environs, and for whom when young
a maternal uncle, of high military rank,
procured an ensign cy. He beat for re-
cruits at Bridgewater, and enlisted the af-
fections of a Miss Chubb of that town,
whom he married. He was ordered
with his regiment to America, where he
fought by the side of general Montgo-
mery.

Captain Morris at one time was taken
by the Indians, and condemned to the
stake; at the instant the women and
children were preparing to inflict its tor-
tures, he was recognised by an old
sachem, whose life he had formerly saved,
and who in grateful return pleaded so
powerfully in his behalf, that he was un-
bound and permitted to return to his
friends, who had given him up for lost.
He published an affecting narrative of his
captivity and sufferings ; yet he was so
attached to the Indian mode of life, that
he used to declare they were the only
human beings worthy of the name of MEN.
On his return from America to England,
he quitted the army and gave himself to
literary studies, and the conversation of a
few enlightened friends. In the midst of
" the feast of reason, and the flow of
soul/' he often sighed for the grand
imagery of nature, the dashing cataracts
of Columbia, the wild murmurs of rivers
rolling through mountains, woods, and
deserts. Having met with some disap-
pointments which baffled his philosophy,
he sought a spot for retirement, and found
it in a nursery garden, at Paddington.
Here in a small cottage, he compared
Pope's translation of Homer with the
original, in which he was assisted by
Mr. George Dyer, a gentleman well quali-
fied for so pleasing a task. In this pur-
suit he passed some years, which he de-
clared were the happiest of his life.

With partiality for the dead languages,
he was sensible to the vigour and copious-
ness of his own : he translated Juvenal
into English, and enriched it with many
notes, but it was never printed. He pub-
lished a little poem, entitled " Quashy, or
the Coal-black Maid," a pathetic West
India story. He lived in the style of a gen-
tleman, and left a handsome sum to his
children.

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR,
Mean Temperature ... 39 92.

jTebruarp 11.

CHRONOLOGY

1763. William Shenstone, the poet,
died at his celebrated residence the Lea-
sowes, near Hagley, in Worcestershire.
He was born at Hales Owen, Shropshire,
in 1714.

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature ... 40 00.

jfebruarp 12.

1826. First Sunday in Lent.
The communion service of the church
of England for the Sundays in Lent, was
extracted from the offices appointed for
these Sundays by the missal of Sarum,
excepting the collect for the first Sunday,
which was composed by the compilers of
the liturgy, and also excepting the gospel
for the second Sunday

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature ... 38 37.

13.

Valentine's Eve.

1826. Hilary term ends. Cambridge term
begins.

VALENTINE'S EVE AT SWAFFHAM.
For the Every-Day Book.

At Swaffham in Norfolk it is customary
to send valentines on this evening. Watch-
ing for a convenient opportunity, the door
is slyly opened, and the valentine, attached
to an apple or an orange, is thrown in ; a
loud rap at the door immediately follows,
and the offender, taking to his heels, is off
instantly. Those in the house, generally
knowing for what purpose the announc-
ing rap was made, commence a search
for the juvenile billet doux : in this man-
ner, numbers are disposed of by each
youth. By way of teasing the person
who attends the door, a white oblong
square, the size of a letter, is usually
chalked on the step of the door, and,
should an attempt be made to pick it up,
great amusement is thus afforded to some
of the urchins, who are generally watch-
ing. K.

923

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. FEBRUARY 14.

224

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature ... ^8 10.

14.

OLD CANDLEMAS DAY.

Valentine.

Referring to vol. i. from p. 215 to 230, for
information concerning the origin of this
festival of lovers, and the manner wherein
it is celebrated, a communication is sub-
joined concerning a custom now observed
in Norfolk.

VALENTINE'S DAY AT LYNN.

For the Every-Day Book.
Independent of the homage paid to St.
Valentine on this day at Lynn, (Norfolk,)
it is in other respects a red-letter day
amongst all classes of its inhabitants,
being the commencement of its great
annual mart. This mart was granted by
a charter of Henry VIII., in the twenty-
seventh year of his reign, to begin on
the day next after the feast of the purifi-
cation of the blessed virgin Mary, and to
continue six days next following,"
(though now it is generally prolonged to
a fortnight.) Since the alteration of the
style, in 1752, it has been proclaimed on
Valentine's day. About noon, the mayor
and corporation, preceded by a band of
music, and attended by twelve decrepit
old men, called from their dress "Red
eoats," walk in procession to proclaim
the mart, concluding by opening the an-
tiquated, and almost obsolete court of
" Piepowder." Like most establishments
of this nature, it is no longer attended for
the purpose it was first granted, business
having yielded to pleasure and amuse-
ment. Formerly Lynn mart and Stour-
b-idge (Stirbitch) fair,* were the only
places where small traders in this and the
adjoining counties, supplied themselves
with their respective goods. No transac-
tions of this nature now take place, and
the only remains to be perceived, are the
" irart prices," still issued by the grocers.
Here the thrifty housewives, for twenty

miles round, laid in their annual store of
soap, Btarch, &c., and the booth of
" Green" from Limehouse, was for three
generations the emporium of such art:
cles; but these no longer attend. A
great deal of money is however spent, a.
immense numbers of persons assemble
from all parts. Neither is their any lack
of incitements to unburthen the pockets:
animals of every description, tame and
wild, giants and dwarfs, tumblers, jug-
glers, peep-shows, &c., all unite their at-
tractive powers, in sounds more discord-
ant than those which annoyed the ears of
Hogarth's " enraged musician."

The year 1796 proved particularly un-
fortunate to some of the inhabitants of
Marshland who visited the mart. On the
evening of February 23, eleven persons,
returning from the day's visit, were
drowned by the upsetting of a ferryboat;
and on the preceding day a man from
Tilney, going to see the wild beasts, and
putting his hand to the lion's mouth, had
his arm greatly lacerated, and narrowly
escaped being torn to pieces.

In the early part of the last century, an
old building, which, before the reforma-
tion, had been a hall belonging to the
guild of St. George, after being applied to
various uses, was fitted up as a theatre,
(and by a curious coincidence, where
formerly had doubtless been exhibited, as
was customary at the guild feasts, religious
mysteries and pageants of the catholic
age, again was exhibited the mysteries and
pageants of the protestant age,) during
the mart and a few weeks afterwards ;
bat with no great success, as appears by
an anecdote related of the celebrated
George Alexander Stevens. Having in
his youthful days performed here with a
strolling company, who shared amongst
them the receipts of the house, after
several nights' performance to nearly
empty benches, while performing the part
of Lorenzo, in Shakspeare's " Merchant of
Venice," he thus facetiously parodied the
speech of Lorenzo to Jessica, in the fifth
act, as applicable to his distressed cir-
cumstances :

" Oh Jessica ! in such a night as this we came to town,
And since that night we've shar'd but half a crown ;
Let you and I then bid these folks good night,
For if we longer stay, they'll starve us quite."

' V Uitat - laW t0 5 place between !** and Cambridge respecting the toll ol
r; the precise ground of the dispute and the termination are not stated

225

THE EVERY -DAY BOOKFEBRUARY 14.

226

This neglect of the drama is not, how-
ever, to be attributed to the visitors or the
inhabitants at the present day, a very
elegant and commodious theatre having
been erected in 1814, at a considerable
expense, in another part of the town.
But even here, a fatality attends our ca-
tholic ancestors, indicative of the instabi-
dty of all sublunary affairs. The theatre
has been erected on the site of the clois-
ters and cemetry of the grey friars' monas-
tery, the tall, slender tower of which is"
still standing near, and is the only one re-
maining out of ten monasteries found in

Lynn at the dissolution ; where, but for
the lustful rapacity of that tyrannical
" defender of the faith/' Henry VIII., this
sacred asylum of our departed ancestors
would not have been profaned, nor their
mouldering particles disturbed, by a
building as opposite to the one originally
erected, as darkness is to light. Thus
time, instead of consecrating, so entirely
obliterates our veneration for the things
of yesterday, that the reflecting mind can-
not forbear to exclaim with the moralist of
old. *' Sic transit gloria mandi."

, of

Aged 74, A.. D. 1824.

" Here's David's likeness for his book,
All those who buy may at it look,
As he is in his present state,
Now printed from a copper-plate."

These lines arc beneath the portrait
from whence the above engraving is taken.
It is a very faithful likeness of David
Love, only a little too erect : not quite
enough of the stoop of the old man of
76 in it, but it is a face and a figure
which will be recognised by thousands in
Nottingham andNottinghamshire. The
VOL. II. 60.

race of the old minstrels has been
extinct ; that of the ballad-singers is fast
following it yet David is both one and
the other. He is a bard and a caroller,
a wight who has wandered over as many
hills and dales as any of the minstrels and
troubadours of old; a man who has
sung, when he had cause enough for cry-

THE EVERY- DAY BOOK. FEBRUARY 14.

228

ing wh 5 nas seen many ups and downs,
and has seldom failed to put his trials and
hardships into rhyme. He is the poet
of poverty and patience teaching expe-
rience. He has seen the

" huts where poor men lie"

all his life ; yet he has never ceased to
chant as he proceeded on his painful
pilgrimage, like the " nightingale with a
thorn in her breast " It is true, he does
not carry his harp to accompany his
strains, but he carries his life, " The Life,
Adventures, and Experience of David
Love, written by Himself. Fifth edition :"
and well doth it deserve both its title and
sale. A curious, eventful story of a poor
man's it is. First he is a poor parent-
deserted lad ; then he has wormed himself
into good service, and afterwards into a
coal-pit, where he breaks his bones and
almost crushes out life ; then he is a tra-
veller, a shopkeeper, a soldier fighting
against the Highland rebels; he falls in
love,gets into wedlock and a workhouse, is
never in despair, and never out of trouble;
with a heart so buoyant, that, like a cork
on a boisterous flood, however he might
be plunged into the depths, he is sure to
rise again to the surface, and in all places
and cases still pours out his rhymes pic-
tures of scenes around him, strange cabins
and strange groups, love verses, acrostics,
hymns, &c.

" I have composed many rhymes,
On various subjects, and the times,
And call'd the trials of prisoners' crimes

The cash to bring ;
When old I grew, composed hymns,

And them did sing."

So David sped, and so he speeds now in
his 77th year, only that his travels have
left him finally fixed at Nottingham. His
wars and his loves have vanished; his cir-
cle of action has annually become more
and more contracted ; till, at length, the
town includes the whole field of his per-
ambulations, and even that is almost more
than his tottering frame can traverse. Yet
there he is ! and the stranger who visits
Nottingham will be almost sure to see
him, as represented in the print, .crossing
the market-place, with a parcel of loose
papers in his hand ; a rhyming account
of the last Goose Fair, a flood, an ex-
ecution, or one of David's own mar-
riages, for be it known to thee, gentle
reader, that David Love has been a true
son of the family of the Loves. He has
not sung his amatory lays for naught ; he

has captivated the hearts cf no less than
three damsels, and he has various and me-
morable experience in wives.

David, like many of our modern ge-
niuses, is a Scotchman. He tells us that
he was born near Edinbuigh, but the pre-
cise place he affects not to know. The
fact is, he is not very strong in his faith
that, as he has tasted the sweets of a
parish, he cannot be removed, and thinks
it best to keep his birth-place secret : but
the spot is Torriburn, on the Forth, the
Scotch Highgate. David " has been to
mair toons na Torriburn/' as the Scotch
say, when they intimate that they are not
to be gulled.

After sustaining many characters in the
drama of life whilst yet very young, a
schoolmaster among the rest, he fairly
flung himself and his genius upon the
world, and rambled from place to place
in Scotland, calling around him all the
young ears and love-darting eyes by his
original ballads. It was a dangerous life,
and David did not escape scatheless.
" At length so very bold I grew,
My songs exposed to public view,
And crowds of people round me drew,

/ was so funny ;
From side to side I nimbly flew

To catch the money."

And he caught not only money, but matri-
mony, and such a wife ! alas ! for poor
David !

" As she always will rule the roast,
I'd better be tied to a post,

And whipped to death,
Than with her tongue to be so tossed,

And bear her wrath.
She called me both rogue and fool,
And over me she strove to rule ;
I sat on the repenting stooW

There tears I shed ;
Sad my complaint, I said, O dool ! %

That e'er I wed."

The next step evidently enough was
enlisting, which he did into the duke of
Buccleugh's regiment ; where, he says, he
distinguished himself by writing a song
in compliment of the regiment and its
noble commander, concluding with,

" Now, at the last., what do you think

Of the author, David Love ?"
And whenever the duke and the officers
saw him, they were sure to point, and
say, " What do you think of the author,
jjarad Love ?" These seem to have been
David's golden days. Nut only

" One hand the pen, and one the sword did
wield,"

229

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. FEBRUARY 14.

230

but he was also an actor of plays for the
amusement of the officers. However, his
discharge came, and adventures crowded
thickly upon him. He traversed England
in all directions, married a second and a
third time, figured away in London and
Edinburgh, and finally in Nottingham,
with ballads and rhymes of his own com-
posing ; saw the inside of a prison, was
all but hanged for his suspicious and no-
madic poverty, and after all, by his own
showing, is now to be classed with the
most favoured of mortals :

" I am now 76 years of age, and I both
see and hear as well as I did thirty years
ago. My wife is aged about fifty, and
has been the space of a year in tolerable
health. She works hard at her silk-
wheel, to assist me ; is an excellent house-
wife ; gossips none : cleanly in cooking,
famous at washing, good at sewing, mark-
ing, and mending her own and children's
clothes. For making markets none can
equal her. Consults me in every thing,
to find if I think it right, before she pro-
ceeds to buy provisions, or clothes; strives
to please me in every thing; and always
studies my welfare, rejoicing when I am
in health, grieved when I am pained or
uneasy. She is my tender nurse to nourish
me, my skilful doctress to administer re-
lief when I am in sickness or in pain ; in
short, a better wife a poor man never
had."

Truly, David, I think so too! A happy
man art thou to be possessed of such an
incomparable helpmate; and still hap-
pier that, unlike many a prouder bard,
thou art sensible of thy blessings.

To show that although our minstrel
often invokes the muse to paltry subjects
for paltry gains, yet he can sometimes
soar into a higher region, I give the fol-
lowing :

THE CHILD'S DREAM.
The tubstance thereof being founded on fact

I'll tell you who 1 saw last night,

As I lay sleeping on my bed ;
A shining creature all in light,

To me she seemed a heavenly maid.

I meet her tripping o'er the dew,
Fine as a queen of May, mamma ;

She saw, she smiled, she to me flew,
And bade me come away, mamma.

I looked, I loved, I blushed awhile,
Oh ! how could I say no, mamma ?

She spoke so sweet, so sweet did smile,
I was obliged to go, mamma.

For love my tender heart beguiled,

I felt unusual flames, mamma ;
My inward fancy turned so wild,

So very strange my dream, mamma.

Indeed I was, I know not how,
Oh had you only been with me ;

Such wonders opened to my view,
As few but holy angels see.

Methought we wandered in a grove,
All green with pleasant fields, mamma ;

In joyful measures on we move,
As music rapture yields, mamma.

She took me in her snow-white hand,
Then led me through the air mamma.

Far higher above sea and land,
Than ever eagles were, mamma.

The sea and land, with all their store,
Of rivers, woods, and lofty hills,

Indeed they did appear no more
Than little streams or purling rills.

I sought my dear papa's estate,
But found it not at all, mamma ;

The world in whole seemed not so great
As half a cannon-ball, mamma.

We saw the sun but like a star,
The moon was like a mustard seed ;

Like Elias in, his fiery car,
All glorious winged with light'ning speed.

Swift as our thoughts, oh joyful day .

We glanced through all the boundless

spheres ;
Their music sounding all the way,

Heaven sweetly rushing in our ears,

Now opens, and all we saw before

Were lost entirely to our view ;
The former things are now no more,

To us all things appeared new.

No death is there, nor sorrow there,
E'er to disturb the heavenly bliss,

For death, sin, hell, and sorrow are,
Entirely lost in the abyss.

With wintry storms the ground ne'er pines

Clothed in eternal bloom, mamma ;
For there the sun of glory shines,

And all the just with him, mamma.
I saw my sister Anna there,

A virgin in her youthful prime ;
More than on earth her features fair,

And like the holy angels' fine.

Her robe was all a flowing stream

Of silver dipt in light, mamma,
But ah ! it 'woke me from my dream,

It shone so strong and bright, mamma.

With this specimen of David's poetica.
faculties, I leave him to the kind con-
sideration of the well disposed.

January, 1826. M. T.

23 1

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK.FEBRUARY 15, 16, 17.

232

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature ... 37 42.

15.

1826. Ember Week.
Ember weeks are those in which the
Ember days fall. A variety of explana-
tions have been given of the word Em-
ber, but Nelson prefers Dr. Marechal's,
" who derives it from the Saxon word
importing, a circuit or course; so that
these fasts being not occasional, but re-
turning every year in certain courses, may
properly be said to be Ember days, be-
cause fasts in course." The Ember days
are the Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday
after the first Sunday in Lent, and after
the 13th of December. It is enjoined by
the xxxi. canon of the church, " that dea-
cons and ministers be ordained, or made,
but only on the Sundays immediately fol-
lowing these Ember feasts."*

1731. Their majesties king George II.
and the queen, being desirous of seeing
"the noble art of printing," a printing
press and cases were put up at St. James's
palace on the 15th of February, and the
duke (of York) wrought at one of the
cases, to compose for the press a little
book of his own writing, called "The
Laws of Dodge-Hare." The two young-
est princes, likewise, composed their
names, &c., under the direction of Mr. S.
Palmer, a printer, and author of the
"History of Printing," which preceded
Mr. Ames's more able work.f

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature ... 39 22.

jfWbruarp 16.

CHRONOLOGY*

A question was carried in the house of
commons for building a bridge over the
Thames, from Palace-yard to the Surrey
side. During the debate, that river over-
flowed its banks by reason of a strong
spring tide ; the water was higher than
ever known before, and rose above two
feet in Westminster -hall, where the
courts being sitting, the judges, &c. were
obliged to be carried out. The water

* Audley's Companion to the Almanac,
t Gentleman's Magazine.

came into all the cellars and ground
rooms near the river on both sides, and
flowed through the streets of Wapping
and Southwark, as its proper channel; a
general inundation covered all the marshes
and lowlands in Kent, Essex, Suffolk,
Norfolk, and Lincolnshire, and some
thousands of cattle were destroyed, with
several of their owners in endeavouring
to save them. The tide being brought in
by a strong wind at N. W. was the highest
in Lincolnshire of any for 135 years past.
Seventeen breaches were made, about
sunrise, in the banks of the river between
S aiding and Wisbech, with several be-
tween Wisbech and Lynn, and irreparable
damage done ; some graziers having lost
all their cattle. At Clay, in Norfolk,
waters came over the great beach, almost
demolished the town, and left nine feet of
water in the marshes. At Gold Ongar,
Essex, Mr. Cooper, and four of his ser-
vants, were drowned in endeavouring to
save some sheep, the sea wall giving way
of a sudden. The little isles of Candy
and Foulness, on the coast of Essex, were
quite under water ; not a hoof was saved
thereon, and the inhabitants were taken
from the upper part of their houses into
boats. The particular damages may be
better conceived than related.*

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature ... 38 90.

dfe&ruarg 17.

Sittings after Term.

On the day after the expiration of every
term, the courts of law continue to sit at
Westminster, and try causes ; and some
judges come into London at the. same
time, for the same purpose. These sit-
tings are called the " sittings after term,"
and during these periods, suits, arising
out of clashing claims of important in-
terests, are usually decided by the verdicts
of special juries, and other litigations are
disposed of.

The origin and progress of every pos-
sible action, in a court of law, are suc-
cinctly portrayed by " the Tree of Com-
mon Law" an engraving in vol. i. p.
234. It stands there for " ornament and
use ;" there are plenty of books to explain
technical terms, and show the practice
of the courts ; any uninformed person,

* Gentleman's Magazine.

233

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK FEBRUARY 17.

234

therefore, may easily obtain further infor-
mation as to the modes ; and any respect-
able attorney will advise an inquirer, who
states all the particulars of his case, con-
cerning the costs of attempting to sue or
defend, and the chances of success. After
proceeding so far, it will be requisite to
pause, and then, as paramount to the
legal advice, common sense should weigh
consequences well, before giving " instruc-
tions to sue," or " defend," in

that wide and pathless maze

Where law and custom, truth and fiction,

Craft, justice, strife, and contradiction,

With every blessing of confusion,

Quirk, error, quibble, and delusion,

Are all, if rightly understood,

Like jarring ministers of state,

'Mid anger, jealousy, and hate,

In friendly coalition joined,

To harmonize and bless mankind.

To some " whimsical miscellanies,"
subjoined at the place aforesaid, can be
added or annexed, more or many others,
of the same or the like kind. The reali-
ties of law may be relieved by the pleasures
of imagination, and the heaviness of the
" present sittings" be enlivened by a
reported case, in the words of the re-
porter, (Stevens'* Lect.) premising, how-
ever, that he first publicly stated, with his
head in his wig, and with a nosegay in
his hand,

" Law is law, law is law, and as, in
such and so forth, and hereby, and afore-
said, provided always, nevertheless, not-
withstanding. Law is like a country
dance, people are led up and down in it
till they are tired. Law is like a book of
surgery, there are a great many terrible
cases in it. It is also like physic, they
that take least of it are best off. Law is
like a homely gentlewoman, very well to
follow. Law is also like a scolding wife,
very bad when it follows us. Law is like
a new fashion, people are bewitched to
get into it ; it is also like bad weather,
most people are glad when they get out
of it." The same learned authority ob-
serves, that the case before referred to,
and hereafter immediately stated, came
before him, that is to say,

Bullum v. Boatum.

Boaium v. Bullum.

There were two farmers, farmer A and
farmer B. Farmer A was seized or pos-
sessed of a bull ; farmer B was seized or
possessed of a ferry-boat. Now the owner
of the ferry-boat, having made his boat
fest to a post on shore, with a piece of

hay, twisted rope fashion, or as we say,
vulgo vocato, a hay-band. After he had
made his boat fast to a post on shore, as
it was very natural for a hungry man to
do, he went up toivn to dinner ; farmer
A's bull, as it was very natural for a
hungry bull to do, came down town to
look for a dinner ; and the bull observing
discovering, seeing, and spying out, some
turnips in the bottom of the ferry-boat
the bull scrambled into the ferry-boat
he eat up the turnips, and to make an
end of his meal, he fell to work upon the
hay-band. The boat being eaten from its
moorings, floated down the river, with
the bull in it : it struck against a rock
beat a hole in the bottom of the boat,
and tossed the bull overboard. There-
upon the owner of the bull brought his
action against the boat, for running away
with the bull, and the owner of the boat
brought his action against the bull for
running away with the boat.

At trial of these causes, Bullum ,
Boatum, Boatum v. Bullum, the counsel
for the bull began with saying,

" My lordy and you, gentlemen of the
jury,

" We are counsel in this cause for the
bull. We are indicted for running away
with the boat. Now, my lord, we have
heard of running horses, but never of
running bulls before. Now, my lord, the
bull could no more run away with the
boat than a man in a coach may be said
to run away with the horses ; therefore,
my lord, how can we punish what is not
punishable? How can we eat what is
not eatable ? Or how can we drink what
is not drinkable ? Or, as the law says,
how can we think on what is not think-
able ? Therefore, my lord, as we are
counsel in this cause for the bull, if the
jury should bring the bull in guilty, the
jury would be guilty of a bull."

The counsel for the boat affirmed, that
the bull should be nonsuited, because
the declaration did not specify of what
colour he was ; for thus wisely, and thus
learnedly spoke the counsel : " My lord,
if the bull was of no colour, he must be of
some colour ; and if he was not of any
colour, of what colour could the bull be -?"
I overruled this objection myself (says the
reporter) by observing the bull w/as. a
white bull, and that white is no colour ;
besides, as I told my brethren, they, should
not trouble their heads to talk of colour in.,
the law, for the law can colour any thing.
The causes >vent to reference, and by the

235

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. FEBRUARY 18.

236

award, both bull and boat were acquitted,
it being proved that the tide of the river
carried them both away. According to
the legal maxim, there oannot be a wrong
without a remedy, I therefore advised a
fresh case to be laid before me, and was oi
opinion, that as the tide of the river carried
t)oth bull and boat away, both bull and
ooat had a right of action against the water-
bailiff.

Upon this opinion an action was com-
menced and this point of lawtirose, how,
whether, when, and whereby, or by whom,
the facts could be proved on oath, as the
boat was not compos mentis. The evidence
point was settled by Boatum's attorney,
who declared that for his client he would
swear any thing.

At the trial, the water-bailiffs charter
was read, from the original record in true
law Latin, to support an averment in the
declaration that the plaintiffs were carried
away either by the tide of flood, or the
tide of ebb. The water-bailiffs charter
stated of him and of the river, whereof or
wherein he thereby claimed jurisdiction,
as follows : Aquce bailiffi, est magistrates
in choisi, sapor omnibus, fishibus, qui ha-
buerunt finnos et scalos, claivs, shells, et
talos, qui swimmare infreshibus,velsal-
tibus, riveris, lakos, pondis, canalibus et
well boats, sive oysteri, prawni, wkitini,
shrimpi, turbutus solus ; that is, not tur-
bots alone, but turbots and soals both
together. Hereupon arose a nicety of law ;
for the law is as nice as a new-laid egg,
and not to be understood by addle-headed
people. Bullum and Boatum mentioned
both ebb and flood, to avoid quibbling ;
but it being proved, that they were carried
away neither by the tide of flood, nor by
the tide of ebb, but exactly upon the top
of high water, they were nonsuited ; and
thereupon, upon their paying all costs,
they were allowed, by the court, to begin
again, de novo.

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature ... 37 82.

jfebruarg 18.

Revivification of Trees.
Mr. Arthur Aikin, in his " Natural
History of the Year," narrates the first
vital function in trees on the conclusion
of winter. This is the ascent of the sap
after the frost is moderated, and the earth
sufficiently thawed. The absorbent ves-
sels composing the inner bark reach to
the extremity of the fibres of the roots,

and thus, through the roots, imbibe water,
which, mixing there with a quantity of
saccharine matter, forms sap, and is from
thence abundantly distributed through
the trunk and branches to every indivi-
dual bud. The birch tree in spring, on
being tapped, yields its sap, which is fer-
mented into wine. The palm tree in the
tropics of the same season yields its sap
by the same method, which is made into
palm wine, and the sap of the swgar
maple in North America being boiled,
yields the maple sugar.

" This great accession of nourishment
(the sap} causes the bud to swell, to
break through its covering, and to spread
into blossoms, or lengthen into a shoot
beaiing leaves. This is \\\Q first process,
and, properly speaking, is all that belongs
to the springing or elongation of trees ;
and in many plants, that is, all those
which are annual or deciduous, there is
no other process ; the plant absorbs juices
from the earth, and in proportion to the
quantity of these juices increases in size :
it expands its blossoms, perfects its fruit,
and when the ground is incapable by
drought or frost of yielding any more
moisture, or when the vessels of the plant
are not able to draw it up, the plant
perishes. But in trees, though the be-
ginning and end of the first process is
exactly similar to what takes places in
vegetables, yet there is a second process,
which at the same time that it adds to
their bulk, enables them to endure and
go on increasing through a long series of
years.

" The second process begins soon after
the first, in this way. At the base of the
footstalk of each leaf a small bud is gra-
dually formed ; but the absorbent vessels
of the leaf having exhausted themselves
in the formation of the bud, are unable
to bring it nearer to maturity: in this
state it exactly resembles a seed, contain-
ing within it the rudiments of vegetation,
but destitute of absorbent vessels to nou-
rish and evolve the embryo. Being sur-
rounded, however, by sap, like a seed in
moist earth, it is in a proper situation for
growing ; the influence of the sun sets in
motion the juices of the bud and of the
seed, and the first operation in both of
them is to send down roots a certain
depth into the ground for the purpose of
obtaining the necessary moisture. The
bud accordingly shoots down its roots
upon the inner bark of the tree, till they
reach the part covered by the earth.

237

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK.FEBRUARY 19,20.

238

Winter now arriving, the cold and defect
of moisture, owing to the clogged condi-
tion of the absorbent vessels, cause the
fruit and leaves to fall, so that, except the
provision of buds with roots, the remain-
der of the tree, like an annual plant, is
entirely dead : the leaves, the flowers,
and fruit are gone, and what was the
inner bark, is no longer organized, while
the roots of the buds form a new inner
bark; and thus the buds with their roots
contain all that remains alive of the whole
tree. It is owing to this annual renova-
tion of the inner bark, that the tree in-
creases in bulk ; and a new coating being
added every year, we are hence furnished
with an easy and exact method of ascer-
taining the age of a tree by counting the
number of concentric circles of which the
trunk is composed. A tree, therefore,
properly speaking, is rather a congeries
of a multitude of annual plants, than a
perennial individual.

" The sap in trees always rises as soon
as the frost is abated, that when the sti-
mulus of the warm weather in the early
spring acts upon the bud, there should be
at hand a supply of food for its nourish-
ment ; and if by any means the sap is
prevented from ascending at the proper
time, the tree infallibly perishes. Of this
a remarkable instance occurred in Lon-
don, during the spring succeeding the
hard winter of the year 1794. The snow
and ice collecting in the streets so as to
become very inconvenient, they were
cleared, and many cartloads were placed
in the vacant quarters of Moorfields ;
several of these heaps of snow and frozen
rubbish were piled rotnd some of the
elm-trees that grow there. At the return
of spring, those of the trees that were not
surrounded with the snow expanded their
leaves as usual, while the others, being
still girt with a large frozen mass, conti-
nued quite bare; for the fact was, the
absorbents in the lower part of the stem,
and the earth in which the trees stood,
were still exposed to a freezing cold. In
some weeks, however, the snow was
thawed, but the greater number of the
trees were dead, and those few that did
produce any leaves were very sickly, and
continued in a languishing state all sum-
mer, and then died."

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature ... 37 92.

jfebruarp 19.

1826. Second Sunday in Lent.
The First Bird's Nest in Spring.
Of all our native birds, none begins to
build so soon as the raven : by the latter
end of this month it has generally laid its
eggs and begun to sit. The following
anecdote, illustrative of its attachment to
its nest, is related by Mr. White in his
" Natural History of Selborne." " In the
centre of this grove there stood an oak,
which, though shapely and tall on the
whole, bulged out into a large excrescence
about the middle of the stem. On this a
pair of ravens had fixed their residence
for such a series of years, that the oak
was distinguished by the name of the
raven-tree. Many were the attempts of
the neighbouring youths to get at this
eyry; the difficulty whetted their inclina-
tions, and each was ambitious of sur-
mounting the arduous task. But when
they arrived at the swelling, it jutted out
so much in their way, and was so far
beyond their grasp, that the most daring
lads were awed, and acknowledged the
undertaking to be too hazardous. So the
ravens built on, nest upon nest, in per-
fect security, till the fatal day arrived in
which the wood was to be levelled. It
was in the month of February, when those
birds usually sit. The saw was applied
to the butt, the wedges were inserted into
the opening, the woods echoed to the
heavy blows of the beetle and mallet, the
tree nodded to ,ts fall, but still the dam
sat on. A't last, when it gave way, the
bird was flung from her nest; and though
her parental affection deserved a bettei
fate, was whipped down by the twigs,
which brought her dead to the ground."*

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature ... 38 37.

Jfebruarp 20.

The frays of the Season.

The roads now are usually heavy, that
is, the thaws have so entirely liberated
the water in the earth, that the subsoil,
which had been expanded by the action of
the frost, becomes loosened, and, yielding
mud to the surface, increases the draught
of carriages. Now, therefore, the com-

* Aikin's Nat. Hist, of the Year.

239

THE EVERY -DAY BOOK. FEBRUARY 20.

240

missioners and agents who execute their
duty have full employment, and the high-
ways afford employment to a large num-

ber of persons who are destitute of their
customary labour, or unfit for other
work.

CrabeUfng m Sfr

And is it you'd be riding, by Blackwater to Fermoy 1
You'll be accommodated, to your heart's content and joy,
There's not a beast, nor car, but what's beautiful and easy ;
And then the pleasant road bad's the luck but it '11 please ye !

MS. Ballad.

Mr. Crofton Croker's " Researches in
the South of Ireland," besides accounts of
scenery and architectural remains, and
illustrations of popular manners and su-
perstition, conveys a very good idea of
the roads and the methods of travelling
in that part of the sister kingdom. The
usual conveyance is called a car ; its
wheels are either a solid block rounded
to the desired size, or they are formed
of three pieces of wood clamped toge-
ther. The wheels are fixed to a massive
wooden axletree ; this supports the shaft?,
which are as commonly constructed on the
outside as on the inside of the wheels. In
one of these machines Mr. Croker, with a
lady and gentleman who accompanied him
on his tour, took their seats. The car and
horse were precisely of that description
and condition in the engraving. Mr. W.
H. Brooke painted a picture of this gen-
tleman's party, from whence he has oblig-
ingly made the drawing for the present

purpose ; the only alteration is in the
travellers, for whom he has substituted a
family on their removal from one cabin to
another.

This, which is the common Irish car,
is used throughout the province of Lein-
ster, the midland counties, and some parts
of the north. The country, or farmer's
car always has the wheels on the ouiside
of the shafts, with a balustrade or up-
right railing fixed from the shaft to the
side bars, which rise diagonally from themj
this sort of enclosure is also at the back.
This car is open at top for the convenience
of carrying hay, corn, vegetables, tubs,
packages, and turf, which is generally
placed in wicker baskets, called a " kish ;"
two or four of these placed side by side
occupy the entire body. The car, with
the wheels between the shafts, is used io
like purposes, but has the additional ho-
nour of being rendered a family convey
ance, by cart ropes intertwisted 01 crossing

S4I

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. FEBRUARY 20.

242

each other from the top bars, whereon a
ticking, stuffed with straw, and a quilt or
coverlid, form a cushion for the comfort
of the travellers. The car is the common,
and indeed the only, mode of carrying
coals in the city of Dublin to the houses
of the consumers : from six to nine sacks,

making about half a ton, lie very snugly
across the bars. Of course, as a family
conveyance, it is only in use among the
poorest class in the country.

The common car somewhat varies in
shape, as will appear from the following
figure, also drawn by Mr. Brooke.

It must be added, that though these
cars maintain their ground in uncul-
tivated districts, they are quickly dis-
appearing, in the improved parts of Ire-
land, before the Scotch carts introduced
by the agricultural societies.

The Irish "jaunting-car," the " jingle,"
the " noddy,'* and a variety of other car-
riages, which ply for hire in Dublin, are
wholly distinct and superior vehicles.

The following interesting narrative, in
the words of its author, illustrates the na-
ture of the car, the state of the roads,
and the " manners" of the people.

A JAUNT IN A COUNTRY CAR

From Lismore to Fermoy
BY T. CROFTON CROKER, ESQ.

Having hired a car at Lismore to take
us to Fermoy, and wishing to walk part
of the way along the banks of the Black-
water, we desired the driver to meet us
at a given point. On arriving there, the
man pretended not to have understood we
were three in party, and demanded, in
consequence, an exorbitant addition to
the sum agreed on. Although we were
without any other means of conveyance
for eight Irish miles, it was resolved not
to submit to this imposition, and we ac-
cordingly withdrew our luggage and dis-
missed the car, intending to seek another
amongst a few cabins that appeared at a
little distance from the road side. A high
dispute ensued with the driver, who, of
course, was incensed at this proceeding,
and endeavoured to enlist in his cause the

few straggling peasants that had collected
around us ; but having taken refuge and
placed our trunks in the nearest cabin,
ourselves and property became sacred,
and the disposition to hostility, which had
been at first partially expressed, gradually-
died away. When we began to make
inquiries for a horse and car of any kind
to take us into Fermoy, our endeavours
were for some time fruitless. One person
had a car, but no horse. Another had a
car building, which, if Dermot Leary were
as good as his word, would be finished
next week some time, " God willing."
At length we gained intelligence of a
horse that was " only two miles off, draw-
ing turf: sure he could be fetched in
less than no time." But then again,
" that big car of Thaddy Connor's was
too great a load for him entirely. Sure'
the baste would never draw the car into
Fermoy, let alone their honours and the
trunks." After some further consultation,
a car was discovered more adapted to the
capabilities of the miserable animal thus
called upon to " leave work and carry
wood," and though of the commonest
kind we were glad to secure it. By means
of our trunks and some straw we formed
a kind of lodgment on the car, which,
being without springs and on the worst
possible of roads, was not exactly a bed
of down. The severe contusions we re-
ceived on precipitating into the numerous
cavities, though no joke, caused some
laughter ; on which the driver turned
round with a most facetious expression of
countenance, suggesting that " May be
the motion did not just agree with the

243

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. FEBRUARY 20.

244

lady, but never fear, she would soon get
nsed to it, and be asleep before we got
half wav to Fermoy." This prediction,
it will readily be supposed, was not ful-
filled; and I believe it was three days be-
fore we recovered from the bruises of that
journey. It is difficulty to say whether
our situation will excite mirth or sympathy
in the minds of our readers, but a sketch
may do no injury to the description. [In
Mr. Croker's volume an engraving on
wood is inserted.]

Many Irish villages boast a post-chaise,
the horses for which are not unfrequently
taken from the plough, and the chaise
itself submitted to a temporary repair
before starting, to render it, if the parody
of a nautical phrase may be allowed,
" road-worthy ; but the defects are never
thought of one moment before the chaise
is required ; and the miseries of posting
in Ireland have, with justice, afforded
subject for the caricaturist. Tired horses
or a break-down are treated by a driver,
whose appearance is the very reverse of
the smart jockey-like costume of an Eng-
lish postilion, with the utmost resigna-
tion, as matters of unavoidable necessity.
With a slouched hat slovenly shoes and
stockings and a long, loose great coat
wrapped round him, he sits upon a bar
in front of the carriage and urges on his
horses by repeated applications of the
whip, accompanied with the most singu-
lar speeches, and varied by an involun-
tary burst of his musical talent, whistling
a tune adapted to the melancholy pace of
the fatigued animals, as he walks slowly
beside them up the ascent of every Mil.

" Did you give the horses a feed of
oats at the village where we stopped to
sketch 1" inquired one of my fellow -tra-
vellers of the driver, who for the last
three or four miles had with much exer-
tion urged on the jaded hacks.

" I did not, your honour," was the
reply, " but sure, and they know I pro-
mised them a good one at Limerick."

Nor is this instance of pretended un-
derstanding between man and horse sin-
gular. Riding once in company with a
poor farmer from Cork to Mallow, I ad-
vised him to quicken the pace of his
steed as the evening was closing in, and
the lurid appearance of the sky foreboded
a storm.

" Sure then that I would with the
greatest pleasure in life for the honour I
have out of your company, sir ; but I
promised the baste to let him walk, and

I never belie myself to any one, much
less to a poor creature that carries me
for, says the baste to me, I'm tired, as
good right I have, and I'll not go a step
faster rand you won't make me I scorn
it says I, so take your own way."

A verbatim dialogue on an Irish break-
down happily characterises that accident :
the scene, a bleak mountain, and the
time, the return of the driver with ano-
ther chaise from the nearest station which
afforded one seven miles distant.

" Is the carriage you have brought us
safe r

(One of the travellers attempts to get
in)

" Oh never fear, sir ; wait till I just
bail out the water and put a little sop 01
hay in the bottom and sure now and 'tis
a queer thing that the ould black chaise
should play such a trick, and it has gone
this road eleven years and never broke
down afore. But no wonder poor cratur,
the turnpike people get money enough
for mending the roads, and bad luck to
the bit of it they mend, but put it all in
their pockets."

" What, the road ?"

" Noe, your honour, the money."

To such as can bear with composure and
indifference lesser and temporary misfor-
tunes, those attendant on an Irish tour
become objects of merriment ; the very
essence of the innate ingenuity and wit
of the people is called out by such evils ;
and the customary benediction muttered
by the peasant on the meeting a traveller,
is changed into the whimsical remark or
shrewd reply that mock anticipation.

Of late, jingles, as they are termed,
have been established between the prin-
cipal towns. These are carriages on easy
springs, calculated to contain six or eight
persons. The roof is supported by a
slight iron frame capable of being unfixed
in fine weather, and the curtains, which
may be opened and closed at will, afford
complete protection from sun and rain ;
their rate of travelling is nearly the same
as that of the stage-coach, and they are
both a cheaper and more agreeable* con-
veyance.

On our way from Cork to Youghall in
one of these machines, we were followed
by a poor wretch ejaculating the most
dreadful oaths and imprecations in Irish.
His head was of an uncommonly large
and stupid shape, and his idiotic coun-
tenance was rendered fierce and wild by
a long and bushy red beard. On our

245

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. FEBRUARY 21.

246

driver giving him a piece of bread, for
which he had run beside the jingle at
least half a mile, he uttered three or four
terrific screams, accompanied by some
antic and spiteful gestures. I should not
remark this circumstance here were it
one of less frequent occurrence ; but on
most of the public roads in the south of
Ireland, fools and idiots (melancholy
spectacles of humanity !) are permitted
to wander at large, and in consequence
of this freedom have acquired vicious
habits, to the annoyance of every pas-
senger : throwing stones, which they do
with great dexterity, is amongst the most
dangerous of their practices, and a case
is known to me where the wife of a re-
spectable farmer, having been struck on
the temple by a stone thrown at her by
an idiot, died a few days after. Within
my recollection, Cove-lane, one of the
most frequented parts of Cork, as leading
to the Cove-passage, Carrigaline and
Monkstown roads, was the station of one
of these idiots, who seldom allowed an
unprotected woman to pass without fol-
lowing her, and inflicting the most severe
pinches on her back and arms ; yet this
unfortunate and mischievous being for
many years was suffered by the civil
power to remain the terror of every fe-
male, and that too within view of a pub-
lic asylum for the reception of such. But
to return from this digression.

The charges at inferior towns and vil-
lages are extravagant in an inverse pro-
portion to the indifference of their accom-
modation, and generally exceed those of
the first hotels in the metropolis. Our
bill at Kilmallock was any thing but
moderate, and yet the house, though the
best the town afforded, appeared to be
one where carmen were oftener lodged
than gentry. The landlady stood at the
door, and with a low curtsey and a good-
humoured smile welcomed us to " the
ancient city of Kilmallock ;" in the same
breath informed us, that she was a gentle-
woman born and bred, and that she had
a son, " as fine an officer as ever you
could set eyes on in a day's walk, who
was a patriarch (a patriot) in South
America;" then leading us up a dark
and narrow staircase to the apartment we
were to occupy, wished to know our
names and business, whence we came
and where we were going ; but left the
room on our inquiring, in the first place,
what we could have to eat. After wait-
ing a reasonable time our demands were

attended to by a barefooted female, who
to our anxiety respecting what we could
have for supper, replied with perfect con-
fidence, " Just any thing you like, sure !"
" Have you any thing in the house?"
" Indeed and we have not ; but it's
likely I might be able to get an egg for
ye."

An examination of the bedrooms will
not prove more satisfactory; a glass or
soap are luxuries seldom found. Some-
times one coarse and very small towel is
provided; at Kilmallock, the measure-
ment of mine was half a yard in length
and a quarter in breadth ; its complexion,
too, evinced that it had assisted in the
partial ablutions of many unfastidious
persons. Mr. Arthur Young's constant
ejaculation, when he lighted on such
quarters in Ireland, usually occurred to
my mind, " Preserve me, Fate, from such
another !" and I have no doubt he would
agree with me, that two very essential
requisites in an Irish tour are a stock of
linen, and a tolerable partiality for bacon.
But travellers, any more than beggars,
cannot always be choosers, and those who
will not submit with patience to the ac-
cidents and inconveniences of a journey,
must sit at home and read the road that
others travel.

" Who alwaies walkes, on carpet soft and

s a y>

Knowes not hard hills, nor likes the moun-
taine way."*

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature . . 39 * 17.

jfefcruarp 21.

Seasonable Rules.

On p. 187 there is a " Letter," delivered
to a favourite servant at parting, which
deserves to be printed in letters of gold,
or, what is better, because it is easier and
more useful, it should be imprinted on
the memory of every person who reads
it. There are sentiments in it as useful
to masters and mistresses as their do-
mestics. The following " Rules " may
likewise be perused with advantage by
both ; they are deemed " seasonable,
because, as good-livers say, good things
are never out of season.

* Mr. Croker's Researches in the South of Ir*
land, 1824, 4to. This gentleman's excursions wer*
made between the years 18'? and 1822.

247

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. FEBRUARY 21.

248

Rules for Servants.

I. A good character is valuable to every
cne, but especially to servants ; for it is
their bread, and without it they cannot
be admitted into any creditable family ;
and happy it is that the best of characters
is in every one's power to deserve.

II. Engage yourself cautiously, but
stay long in your place, for long service
shows worth as quitting a good place
through passion, is a folly which is always
lamented of too late.

III. Never undertake any place you are
not qualified for ; for pretending to what
you do not understand, exposes yourself,
and, what is still worse, deceives them
whom you serve.

IV. Preserve your fidelity ; for a faith-
ful servant is a jewel, for whom no encou-
ragement can be too great.

V. Adhere to truth; for falsehood is
detestable, and he that tells one lie, must
tell twenty more to conceal it.

VI. Be strictly honest ; for it is shame-
ful to be thought unworthy of trust.

VII. Be modest in your behaviour ; it
becomes your station, and is pleasing to
your superiors.

VIII. Avoid pert answers ; for civil
language is cheap, and impertinence pro-
voking.

IX. Be clean in your business ; for
those who are slovens and sluts, are dis-
respectful servants.

X. Never tell the affairs of the family
you belong to ; for that is a sort of trea-
chery, and often makes mischief; but
keep their secrets, and have none of
your own.

XI. Live friendly with your fellow-
servants ; for the contrary destroys the
peace of the house.

XII. Above all things avoid drunken-
ness ; for that is an inlet to vice, the ruin
of your character, and the destruction of
your constitution.

XIII. Prefer a peaceable life, with
moderate gains, to great advantage and
irregularity.

XIV. Save your money ; for that will
be a friend to you in old age. Be not
expensive in dress, nor marry too soon.

XV. Be careful of your master's pro-
perty ; for wastefulness is a sin.

XVI. Never swear ; for that is a crime
without excuse, as there is no pleasure
in it.

XVII. Be always ready to assist a fel-
low-servant ; for good feature gains the
love of every wr.f.

.XVIIT. Never stay when sent on a
message ; for waiting long is painful to
your master, and a quick return shows
diligence.

XIX. Rise early ; for it i? difficult to
recover lost time.

XX. The servant that often changes his
place, works only to be poor ; for the
rolling-stone gathers no moss."

XXI. Be not fond of increasing your
acquaintances ; for visiting leads you out
of your business, robs your master of
your time, and often puts you to an ex-
pense you cannot afford. And above all
things, take care with whom you are ac-
quainted ; for persons are generally the
better or the worse for the company they
keep.

XXII. When out of place, be careful
where you lodge; for living in a disre-
putable house, puts you upon a footing
with those that keep it, however innocent
you are yourself.

XXIII. Never go out on your own
business, without the knowledge of the
family, lest in your absence you should
be wanted ; for " Leave is light," and
returning punctually at the time you pro-
mise, shows obedience, and is a proof of
sobriety.

XXIV. If yon are dissatisfied with
your place, mention your objections mo-
destly to your master or mistress, and
give a fair warning, and do not neglect
your business nor behave ill, in order to
provoke them to turn you away ; for this
will be a blemish in your character, which
you must always have from the last place
you served in.

***All who pay a due regard to the above
precepts, will be happy in themselves, will
never want friends, and will always meet
with the assistance, protection, and encou-
ragement of the wealthy, the worthy, and
the wise.

The preceding sentences are contained
in a paper which a young person com-
mitted to heart on first getting a place,
and, having steadily observed, obtained a
character for integrity and worth incapable
of being shaken. By constantly keeping
in view that " Honesty is the best policy,"
it led to prosperity, and the faithful
servant became an opulent employer ol
servants.

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature ... 41 70.

249

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. FEBRUARY 22, 23.

250

22.

GENERAL ELECTION.

1826. This year may be deemed re-
markable in the history of modern times,
for its being the period wherein, for the
first time within the memory of man, a
parliament expired by efflux of time.
Most of the preceding parliaments were
dissolved, but this attained to its full
duration of seven years.

THE FREEMAN'S WELL AT ALNWICK.
To the Editor of the Every-Day Book.

Sir,

Kensington, Feb. 1826.

I hope the following description of an
extraordinary custom which has obtain-
ed at Alnwick, in Northumberland, may
be considered worthy preservation in
The Every-Day Book.

About four miles from the above town
there is a pond, known by the name of
the Freeman's well; through which it
has been customary for the freemen to
pass from time immemorial before they
can obtain their freedom. This is con-
sidered so indispensable, that no exemp-
tion is permitted, and without passing
this ordeal the freedom would not be
conferred. The pond is prepared by
proper officers in such a manner, as to
give the greatest possible annoyance to
the persons who are to pass through it.
Great dikes, or mounds, are erected in
different parts, so that the candidate for
his freedom is at one moment seen at the
top of one of them only up to his knees,
and the next instant is precipitated into a
gulf below, in which he frequently
plunges completely over head. The water
is purposely rendered so muddy, that it
is impossible to see where these dikes
are situated, or by any precaution to
avoid them. Those aspiring to the ho-
nour of the freedom of Alnwick, are
dressed in white stockings, white panta-

loons, and white caps. After they have
" reached the point proposed," they are
suffered to put on their usual clothes, and
obliged to join in a procession, and ride
for several miles round the boundaries of
the freemen's property a measure which
is not a mere formality for parade, but
absolutely indispensable; since, if they
omit visiting any part of their property,
it is claimed by his grace the duke of
Northumberland, whose steward follows
the procession, to note if any such omis-
sion occurs. The origin of the practice
of travelling through the pond is not
known. A tradition is current, that king
John was once nearly drowned upon the
spot where this pond is situated, and
saved his life by clinging to a holly tree ;
and that he determined, in consequence,
thenceforth, that before any candidate
could obtain the freedom of Alnwick, he
should not only wade through this pond,
but plant a holly tree at the door of his
house on the same day ; and this custom
is still scrupulously obserred. In the
month of February, 1824, no less than
thirteen individuals went through the
above formalities.

I am, &c.

T. A.

NATURALISTS 7 CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature ... 42 61 .

23.

CHRONOLOGY.

1821. John Keats, the poet, died,
Virulent and unmerited attacks upon his
literary ability, by an unprincipled and
malignant reviewer, injured his rising
reputation, overwhelmed his spirits, and
he sunk into consumption. In that state
he fled for refuge to the climate of Italy,
caught cold on the voyage, and perished
in Rome, at the early age of 25. Speci-
mens of his talents" are in the former
volume of this work. One of his last
poems was in prospect of departure from
his native shores. It is an

Ode to a Nightingale.

My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains
My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk,

Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains
One minute past, and Lethe- wards- had sunk :

251 THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. FEBRUARY 23 255

Tis not through envy of thy happy lot,
But being too happy in thine happiness,
That thou, light-winged Dryad of the tress,

In some melodious plot
Of beechen green, and shadows numberless,
Singest of summer in full-throated ease.

2.
O, for a draught of vintage ! that hath been

Cool'd a long age in the deep-delved earth,
Tasting of Flora and the country green,

Dance, and Provencal song, and sunburnt mirth!

for a beaker full of the warm South,
Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene,

With beaded bubbles winking at the brim,

And purple-stained mouth ;
That I might drink, and leave the world unseen,
And with thee fade away into the forest dim :

3.
Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget

What thou among the leaves hast never known,
The weariness, the fever, and the fret

Here, where men sit and hear each other groan ;
Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last grey hairs,

Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and die? ;
Where but to think is to be full of sorrow

And leaden-eyed despairs,
Where Beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes,
Or new Love pine at them beyond to-morrow.

4.
Away ! away ! for I will fly to thee,

Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards,
But on the viewless wings of Poesy,

Though the dull brain perplexes and retards :
Already with thee ! tender is the night,

And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne,
Cluster'd around by all her starry Fays ;

But here there is no light,
Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown

Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy wayi*.

1 cannot see what flowers are at my feet,

Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs,
But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet

Wherewith the seasonable month endows
The grass, the thicket, and the fruit-tree wild ;
White- hawthorn, and the pastoral eglantine;
Fast fading violets cover'd up in leaves ;

And mid-May's eldest child,
The coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine,

The murmurous haunt of flies on summer evto.

Darkling I listen ; and, for many a time

I have been half in love with easeful Death,
Call'd him soft names in many a mused rhyme,

To take into the air my quiet breath ;

253 THE EV ERA -DAY BOOK. FEBRUARY 24,25. 254

Now more than ever seems it rich to die,

To cease upon the midnight with no pain,
While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad
In such an ecstasy !

Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain-
To thy high requiem become a sod.

7.
Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird !

No hungry generations tread thee down ;
The voice I hear this passing night was heard

In ancient days by emperor and clown :
Perhaps the self-same song that found a path

Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home,
She stood in tears amid the alien corn ;

The same that oft-times hath
Charmed magic casements, opening on the foam
Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn.

8.
Forlorn ! the very word is like a bell

To toll me back from thee to my sole self!
Adieu ! the fancy cannot cheat so well
As she is famed to do, deceiving elf.
Adieu ! adieu ! thy plaintive anthem fades
Past the near meadows, over the still stream,
Up the hill-side ; and now 'tis buried deep

In the next valley-glades :
Was it a vision, or a waking dream ?

Fled is that music : Do I wake or sleep ?

This ode was included with " Lamia, mission, and the year and manner of his

Isabella, the Eve of St. Agnes, and other death, though all concur in saying he was

Poems," by John Keats, published by martyred. Dr. Cave affirms, that he

Messrs. Taylor and Hessey, who, in an suffered by the cross. He is presumed

advertisement at the beginning of the do have died A.D. 61 or 64.
book, allude to the critical ferocity which

lastened the poet's death.

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR. M Temperature ... 42 22.

Mean Temperature. . . 41 57.

24 - Jfebruarp 25.

St. Matthias. Holiday at the Public 1826. Third Sunday in Lent.

Offices. STORM SUPERSTITIONS.

After the crucifixion, and the death of The stilling of the waves by oil is

the traitor Judas, Peter, in the midst of briefly noticed at p. 192, and another in-

.he disciples, they being in number about stance is subjoined.
a hundred and twenty, proposed the

election of an apostle in his stead, " and Oil for a fair Wind.

they appointed two, Joseph, called Bar- C. W., in Dr. Aikin's Athenaeum,

sabas, who was surnamed Justus, and says : " About twelve years ago, during

Matthias : and they prayed" to be direct- my stay at Malta, I was introduced to the

ed in their choice, " and they gave forth bey of Bengazi, in Africa, who was going

their lots ; and the lot fell upon Matthias, with his family and a large retinue of

and he was numbered with the eleven servants to Mecca. He very politely

apostles." (Acts i. 23-26.) Writers dis- offered me and my companion a passage

agree as to the particular places of his to Egypt. We embarked on board a

255

THE EVER Y-DAY BOOK. FEBRUARY 25.

256

French brig which the bey had freighted,
arid very unfortunately were captured by
an English letter of marque within a few
leagues of Alexandria. The captain,
however, was kind enough to allow us to
proceed, and as we lay becalmed for two
days, the bey ordered three or four Turk-
ish flags to be hoisted, and a flask of oil
to be thrown overboard. On inquiring
into the purport of the ceremony, we were
informed that the flask would float to
Mecca (a pretty long circumnavigation)
and bring us a fair wind ! As we cast
anchor in the port soon after, of course
the ceremony had been propitious ; nor
did we seek to disturb the credulity of a
man who had treated us so kindly/'

We know,- however, that there is " cre-
dulity " on board English as well as Turk-
ish vessels ; and that if our sailors do not
send an oil flask to Mecca, they whistle
for a wind in a perfect calm, and many
seem as certainly to expect its appearance,
as a boatswain calculates on the appear-
ance of his crew when he pipes all hands.
Navigation in the Clouds.

Agobard, archbishop of Lyons, in the
reign of Charlemagne, and his son, has
the following passage in his book, " De
Grandine." " In these districts, almost
all persons, noble and plebeian, towns-
men and rustics, old and young, believe
that hail and thunder may be produced at
the will of man, that is, by the incanta-
tions of certain men who are Called Tem-
pestarii." He proceeds : " We have seen
and heard many who are sunk in such
folly and stupidity, as to believe and as-
sert, that there is a certain country, which
they call Magonia, whence ships come in
the clouds, for the purpose of carrying
back the corn which is beaten off by the
hail and storms, and which those aerial
sailors purchase of the said Tempestani."
Agobard afterwards affirms, that he him-
self saw in a certain assembly four per-
sons, three men and a woman, exhibited
bound, as if they had fallen from these
ships, who had been kept for some days
in confinement, and were now brought
out to be stoned in his presence ; but that
he rescued them from the popular fury.
He further says, that there were persons
who pretended to be able to protect the
inhabitants of a district from tempests, and
that for this service they received a pay-
ment in corn from the credulous country-
men, which payment was called canoni-
cum.*

* Athenaeum.

A Shrovetide Custom.

It will appear on reading, that the
annexed letter came too late for insertion
under Shrove Tuesday.

LUDLOW ROPE PULLING.

To the Editor of the Every-Day Book

Sir,

Ludlotv, Shrove Tuesday,
Feb. 7, 1826.

Among the customs peculiar to this
town, that of pulling a rope is not the
least extraordinary. On Shrove Tuesday
the corporation provide a rope three
inches in thickness, and in length thirty-
six yards, which is given out by a few of
the members at one of the windows of
the Market-hall at four o'clock ; when a
large body of the inhabitants, divided
into two parties, (the one contending for
Castle-street and Broad-street Wards, and
the other for Old-street and Corve-street
Wards,) commence an arduous struggle;
and as so\n as either party gains the vic-
tory by pulling the rope beyond the pre-
scribed limits, the pulling ceases ; which
is, however, always renewed by a second,
and sometimes by a third contest ; the
rope being purchased by subscription
from the victorious party, and given out
again. In the end the rope is sold by
the victors, and the money, which gene-
rally amounts to two pounds, or guineas,
is expended in liquor. I have this day
been an eye-witness to this scene of con-
fusion ; the rope was first gained by Old-
street and Corve-street Wards, and se-
condly by Castle-street and Broad-street
Wards. It is supposed, that nearly 2000
persons were actively employed on this
occasion.

Without doubt this singular custom is
symbolical of some remarkable event,
and a remnant of that ancient language
of visible signs, which, says a celebrated
writer, " imperfectly supplies the want of
letters, to perpetuate the remembrance of
public or private transactions." The
sign, in this instance, has survived the
remembrance of the occurrence it was
designed to represent, and remains a
profound mystery. It has been insinua-
ted, that the real occasion of this custom
is known to the corporation, but that for
some reason or other, they are tenacious
of the secret. An obscure tradition at-
tributes this custom to circumstances
arising out of the siege of Ludlow by
Henry VI , when two parties arose within

257

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. FEBRUARY 26.

258

the town, one supporting the pretensions
of the duke of York, and the other wish-
ing to give admittance to the king ; one
of the bailiffs is said to have, headed the
latter party. History relates, that in this
contest many lives were lost, and that the
bailiff, heading his party in an attempt to
open Dinham gate,, fell a victim there.

R. J

NATURALISTS* CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature ... 41 16.

jfdbruarp 26.

1826. Third Sunday in Lent.

Penderill Family.
1732, February 26. The title to an

estate of 100/. per annum, which had been
settled on the Penderill family " for pre-
serving king Charles II. in the oak," was
sued for on behalf of an infant claiming
to be heir-at-law, and the issue was this
day tried in the court of king's bench. It
was proved that Mr. Penderill, after mar-
rying the mother of the claimant, retired
into Staffordshire two years before he died;
that during that time he had no inter-
course with his wife, and that the infant
was born about the time of her husband's
death. In consequence of this evidence
a verdict was found for the defendant,
and thereby the child was declared to be
illegitimate.*

* Gentleman's Magazine.

A respected correspondent, S. G., not
remembering to have met with a represent-
ation of this remarkable seal in any work,
and conceiving its appearance in the
Every-Day Book may gratify many rea-
ders, obligingly transmits a fine impres-
sion, taken in February,! 826, from whence
the present engraving has been made with
at least as much fidelity as the antiquity
of the original permitted. " This seal,"
he says, is quite distinct from the city
seal. It is kept at the Mansion-house, in
the custody of the gate-porter, and is now

VOL. II. 61.

used for the purpose of authenticating do-
cuments forwarded to foreign countries
upon affidavit sworn before the lord mayor:
it is also used for sealing the precepts
which are issued preparatory to St.
Thomas's-day for the 'election of common
councilmen arid ward officers." The fol-
lowing is the inscriptioa round the seal,
" Sigillum Officii Majoratus Civitatis
Londini :" this legend is indistinct from
wear.

The history of this seal is especially re-
markable, because it is connected with the

259

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. FEBRUARY 26.

260

origin of the " dagger" in the city arms.
On this subject Maitland and other his-
torians have taken so much only from
Stow as seemed to them to suit their pur-
pose ; what that author relates, therefore,
is here extracted verbatim. He introduces
it by saying, " In the year 1381, William
Walworth, then maior, a most provident,
valiant, and learned citizen, did by his ar-
rest of Wat Tyler, (a presumptuous rebell
upon whom no man durst lay hands,) de-
liver the king and kingdome from the dan-
ger of most wicked traitors, and was for
his service knighted in the field as before
hath been related." In opposition to a
notion which prevailed in his time, and
prevails at present, that the " dagger" in
the civic shield was an augmentation of
the city arms upon occasion of Wai-
worth's prowess in Smithfield, Stow says,
" It hath also been, and is now growne
to a common opinion, that in reward of
this service done by the said William
Walworth against the rebell, that king
Richard added to the armes of this city
(which was argent, a plaine crosse gules)
a sword, or dagger, (for so they terme it,)
whereof I have read no such record, but
to the contrary. I finde that in the fourth
yeere of king Richard the second, in a
full assembly made in the upper chamber
of the Guildhall, summoned by this Wil-
liam Walworth, then maior, as well of
aldermen as of the common councell in
every ward, for certain affaires concern-
ing the king, it was there by common
consent agreed and ordained, that the
old seale of the office of the maioralty of
the city being very small, old, unapt, and
uncomely for the honour of the city,
should be broken, and one other new
seale bee had ; which the said maior
commanded to be made artificially, and
honourably, for the exercise of the said
office therafter, in place of the other. In
which new seale, besides the images of
Peter and Paul, which of old were rudely
engraven, there should be under the feet
of the said images a shield of the arms of
the said city, perfectly graven, with two
lyons supporting the same, and two ser-
geants of arms : in the other part, one,
and two tabernacles, in which, above,
should stand two angels, between whom
(above the said images of Peter and Paul)
should be set the glorious Virgin. This
being done, the old seale of the office was
delivered to Richard Odiham, chamber-
lain, who brake it, and in place thereof
was delivered the new seale to the said

maior, to use in his office of maioralty as
occasion should require. This new seale
seemeth to be made before William Wal-
worth was knighted, for he is not there
intituled Sir, as afterwards he was : and
certain it is, that the same new seale then
made, is now in use, and none other in
that office of the maioralty ; which may
suffice to answer the former fable, with-
out showing of any evidence sealed with
the old seale, which was the crosse, and
sword of Saint Paul, and not the dago-er
of William Walworth."

On a partial citation of the preceding
extract, in Maitland, it is observed by
S. G., that " the seal at present in use was
made in pursuance of the order above
cited, may be deduced from the seal
itself. In the centre, within a large and
square compartment, are the effigies of
Peter and Paul. The former has a mitre
or tiara on his head, and is attired in the
pall as bishop of the catholic church, and
holds a crosier in his left hand. The
latter saint is known by his usual attri-
bute, the sword, which he sustains in his
right hand : above each of these saints is
a rich canopy. Beneath the compartment
just described is a shield, bearing the
present arms of the city, a cross, with a
dagger in the dexter quarter, supported
by two lions. It appears to have been
surmounted with a low pointed arch.
The centre compartment is flanked by
two niches, with rich canopies and plinths ;
in each is a demi-figure bearing a mace,
and having on its head a triangular cap ;
these figures, according to the above de-
scription, are intended to represent two
sergeants at arms. The canopies to these
niches terminate in angular pedestals,
sustaining kneeling statues in the act of
paying adoration to the Virgin Mary,
whose effigy, though much effaced, ap-
pears in the centre niche at the top of the
seal. From these representations on the
seal before us, little doubt can remain
that it is the same which has. been in use
from the time of sir William Walworth
to rtie present day. The canopies and
stall work are of the period in which it is
supposed to have been made, and are of
similar design with those fine specimens
which ornamented the late front of West-
minster-hall, and the screen to the chapel
of Saint Edward the Confessor in the
abbey, and which are still to be seen in
the restored portion of Westminster-hall,
as well as the plaster altar-screen lately
set up in the abbey church."

26i

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. FEBRUARY 26.

262

As Wat Tyler's insurrection was in
1381, the fourth year of Richard II.,
and as that was the year wherein the
old mayoralty seal was destroyed, and
the present seal made, our obliging cor-
respondent, S. G., deems it "a very rea-
sonable opinion, which many authors
have entertained on the subject, that the
dagger in the city arms was really granted
at that period, in commemoration of
Walworth having given Tyler the blow
with that instrument, which was the pre-
lude to his death/' He says it is also
further confirmed by the act of the as-
sembly [the common council], which
Maitland quotes [after Stow], inasmuch
as one reason which appears to have been
urged by them for destroying the old seal
was on account of the same, at that time,
being unbecoming the honour of the city,
which, no doubt, referred to the addi-
tion of the dagger, which had then lately
been made to the arms : and it likewise
goes on further to state, in reference
thereto, " that beside the images of
Saint Peter and Paul, was placed the
shield of the arms of the said city well
engraved."

Our correspondent, S. G., will not
conceive offence at a notion which varies
from his own opinion ; and probably,
on reperusing the quotation from Stow
and the following remarks, he may see
some reason to abate his present persua-
sion.

As a reason for the old seal, in the
fourth year of Richard II., having been
ordered by the common council to be
broken, Stow says it was " very small,
old, unapt, and uncomely for the honour
of the city." His description seems to
set forth its diminutive size and age, its
" being very small, old," and " unapt,"
as the ground whereon they deemed it
" uncomely for the honour of the city,"
and therefore caused the old seal to be
destroyed, and a new one to be made.
So far this appears to have been Stow's
view of the matter; and should his autho-
rity be regarded, our friend S. G, may
appear to have too hastily assumed that
the common council order for the de-
struction of the old seal, as " unbecoming
the honour of the city, no doubt referred
to the addition of the dagger which had
then lately been made to their arms."
Unless Stow's testimony be disputed, it
may not only be doubted, but positively
denied, that the dagger " had then lately
added to the city arms." Stow

speaks of it as a " common opinion,"
when he wrote, that upon Walworth's
striking Wat Tyler with his dagger
Richard II. therefore " added a sword, or
dagger, for so they terme it," he says, to
the city arms ; " whereof," he adds, " I
have read no such record, but to the con-
trary." Then he takes pains to relate
why the ancient seal was destroyed, and
having stated the reasons already cited,
he says, li this new seale," the seal now
before us, " seemeth to be made before
William Walworth was knighted, for he
is not there intituled Sir, as he afterwards
was." Afterwards comes Stow's conclu-
sion upon the -whole matter : " Certaine it
is," he says, " that the same new seale
then made, is now in use, and none other
in that office of the maioralty : which,''
mark his words, " which may suffice to
answer the former fable, without shewing
of any evidence sealed with the old seale,
which was the crosse, and sword of St.
Paul, and not the dagger of William
Walworth." What Stow here calls the
" former fable," was the " common opi-
nion" stated by himself, " that king
Richard added to the arms of this city
(which [in the notion of those who enter-
tained the opinion] was argent, a plain
cross gules) a sword, or dagger." That
the city arms before the time of Richard
II. was merely " argent a plain cross
gules," Stow clearly treats as a vulgar
assumption, " whereof," he says, " I have
read no such record, but" and these fol-
lowing words are most notable, " BUT to
the contrary" This, his declaration " to
the contrary' being followed by his par-
ticulars, just laid before the reader, con-
cerning the present seal. Stow says, " may
suffice to answer the former fable, with-
out showing of any evidence sealed with
the old seale:" that is, without showing
or producing any document or writing
" sealed with the old seale, which," to
clench the matter, he positively affirms,
" was the crosse, and sword of St. Paul,
and not the dagger of William Wal-
worth."

The cathedral church of the city of
London is dedicated to St. Paul, who
suffered martyrdom by the sword, and
" the old seale," related by Stow to have
been destroyed, he says, "was the crosse,
and sword of St. Paul." It therefore
represented the present shield of the city
arms, which, on Stow's showing, existed
before the time of Wat Tyler's insurrec-
tion, and are therefore " the crosse, and

263

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. FEBRUARY 26.

264

sword of St. Paul, and not the dagger of
William Walworth."

To the communication with which the
liberty of differing has been taken, in
furtherance of its object to elucidate the
arms of the metropolis, our respected
correspondent S. G. adds, " The origin of
the seal may no doubt be traced to the
source from whence sir Henry Englefield,
in his walk through Southampton, derives
the seal cf the city of Winchester ; in
speaking of which his opinion appears to
be,that it was rirst used in consequence of an
act passed for the benefit of merchants, in
the reign of Edward I., which was after-
wards greatly extended by the statute of
Staples, passed in the 27th year of the
reign of Edward III., whereby it was
enacted that the commerce of wool, lea-
ther, and lead should be carried on at
certain towns, called Staple towns, of
which several are not seaports but to
each of these inland Staples a port is as-
signed for entries. It was also further
enacted, that in each Staple there should
be a seal kept by the mayor of the Sta-

In relation to this seal, Maitland sadly
blunders. He says, * The ancient seal
of this city having been laid aside in the
fourth of Richard II., the present, whereof
the annexed is a representation, was made
in the same year, 1381." Then he annexes
his " representation," purporting to be of
this seal, which Stow so accurately de-
scribes,, but, strange to say, he substitutes
the " representation*' of a seal wholly
different. (See his History of London,
edit 1772, vol. ii. p. 1193.) It is astonish-
ing that Maitland should have so erred,
for (in vol. i. p. 138.) he describes the seal
almost in Stow's words, and sufficiently
at length to have saved him from the pal-
pable mistake.

Sealing-

Our present common sealing-wax for
letters was not invented till the sixteenth
century.The earliest letter inEurope known
to have been sealed with it, was written
from London, August 3, 1554, to the
-heingrave Philip Francis von Daun, by
hig agent in England, Gerrard Herman.
The wax is of a dark red, very shining,
and the impression bears the initials of
the writer's name, G. H. The next seal
known in th? order of time is on a letter

written in 1561 to the council of Gorlitz
at Breslau : it is sealed in three places
with beautiful red wax. There are two
letters in 1563 from count Louis of Nas-
sau to the landgrave William IV. ; one
dated March 3, is sealed with red wax,
the other, dated November 7, is sealed
with black wax. In 1566 are two letters
to the rheingrave Frederick von Daun,
from his steward Charles de Pousol, in
Picardy, dated respectively September
the 2d, and September the 7th ; another
from Pousol to the rheingrave, dated
Paris, January 22, 1567, is sealed with
red wax of a higher colour and apparently
of a coarser quality. On the 15th of May,
1571, Vulcob, a French nobleman, who
the year before had been ambassador from
the king of France to the court of Wey-
mar, wrote a letter to that court sealed
with red wax ; he sealed nine letters of a
prior date with common wax. From an
old expense book of 1616, in the records
of Piessingburg, " Spanish wax, " and
other writing materials, were ordered from
a manufacturer of sealing-wax at Nurem-
burg, for the personal use of Christian,
margrave of Brandenburg.

It has been conjectured that, as the
oldest seals came from England and
France, and as the invention is called
" Spanish wax," it originated with the
Spaniards ; but this is doubted. The first
notice of sealing-wax occurs in a work by
Garcia ab Orto, or Horto, entitled " Aro-
matum et simplicium aliquot historia, &c."
first printed in 1563, and afterwards at
Antwerp in 1574, 8vo., in which latter
edition it is mentioned at p. 33. The
oldest printed receipt for sealing-wax is
in a work entitled " Neu Titularbuch,
&c., Durch Samuelen Zimmerman, burger
zu Augspurg 1579," 4to; p. 112. The fol-
lowing is a

Translation.

" To make hard sealing-wax, called
Spanish wax, with which if letters be
sealed they cannot be opened without
breaking the seal Take beautiful clear
resin, the whitest you can procure, and
melt it over a slow charcoal fire. When
it is properly melted, take it from the fire,
and for every pound of resin add two
ounces of cinnabar pounded very fine,
stirring it about. Then let the whole cool,
or pour it into cold water. Thus you will
have beautiful red wax.

" If you are desirous of having black
wax, add lamp black to it. With smalt,
or azure, you may make it blue ; with

265

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. FEBRUARY 26

266

white lead, white ; and with orpiment,
yellow.

" If instead of resin you melt purified
turpentine, in a glass vessel, and give it
any colour you choose, you will have a
harder kind of sealing-wax, and not so
orittle as the former."

In these receipts there is uo mention of
gum lac, which is at present the princi-
pal ingredient in sealing-wax of the best
quality. The name " Spanish wax," pro-
bably imports no more than " Spanish
flies," " Spanish gum," and several other
" Spanish'* commodities ; for it was for-
merly the custom to give all new things,
particularly those which excited wonder,
or excelled in quality, the appellation of
" Spanish/'*

Dutch sealing-wax, or wax with " brand
well en vast houd," burn well and hold
fast, impressed on each stick, was former-
ly in great repute; but the legend having
been constantly forged was no security
against imposition. The " best Dutch
sealing-wax" usually sold in the shops of
London,' is often worse than that which
inferior manufacturers stamp with the
names of many stationers, who prefer a
large profit to a good reputation. It is
not an easy matter, in 1826, to get a stick
of sealing-wax that will " burn well and
holdfast."

Wafers.

The oldest letter yet found with a red
wafer was written in 1624, from D. Krapf,
at Spires, to the government at Bayreuth.
Wafers are ascribed, by Labat, to Genoese
economy. In the whole of the seven-
teenth century they were only used by
private persons ; on public seals they com-
mence only in the eighteenth century .f

Writing Ink.

The ancient writing ink was a viscid
mass like painter's colours, and therefore
letters in ancient manuscript frequently
appear in relief. J Pliny's writing ink is
mentioned by Dr. Bancroft, according to
whom it consisted of the simple ingre-
dients in the following receipt. " Any
person who will take the trouble of mix-
ing pure lamp black with water, thickened
a little by gum, may obtain an ink of no
despicable quality in other respects, and
with the advantage of being much less
liable to decay by age, than the ink now

* Reckmann.

t Fosbrokc's Diet, of Antiquities. Fkckmann,

t Fosbroke's Diet, ol Antii(uitif

in common use." It should be observed,
however, that every black pigment mixed
with gum or size can be soon and easily
washed out again with water.

It is not purposed to make this a " Re-
ceipt Book, ' yet, as connected with this
subject, two or three really good receipts
may be of essential service, at some time
or other, to many readers. For instance,
artists, and other individuals who require
it, may easily manufacture a black pig-
ment in the following manner, with a cer-
tainty of its being genuine, which can
scarcely be placed in the article sold at
most shops

A pure Lamp Black.

Suspend over a lamp a funnel of tin

Elate, having above it a pipe to convey
om the apartment the smoke which es-
capes from the lamp. Large mushrooms
of a very black carbonaceous matter, and
exceedingly light, will be formed at the
summit of the cone. This carbonaceous
part is carried to such a state of division
as cannot be given to any other matter
by grinding it on a piece of porphyry.
This black goes a great way in every kind
of painting. It may be rendered drier
by calcination in close vessels ; and it
should be observed that the funnel ought
to be united to the pipe, which conveys
off the smoke, by means of wire, because
solder would be melted by the flame of
the lamp.*

Receipts for Ink.

Chaptal the eminent chemist, after nu-
merous experiments regarding writing
ink, concludes, that the best ingredients
and proportions are the following, viz:
two parts of galls, in sorts, bruised, and
one part of logwood chipped ; these are
to be boiled in twenty-five times their
weight of water for the space of two
hours, adding a little water from time to
time, according to the evaporation. The
decoction so made, he bays, will com-
monly mark from 3 to 3^ degrees upon
the hydrometer of Beaume, equal to
about 1022 of the common standard.
At the same time a solution of gum ara-
bic is to be made with warm water, until
the latter will dissolve no more of the
former. This solution will mark 14 or
15 degrees, equal to about 110. A solu-
tion of calcined sulphate of iron is also

* Tingrj.

067

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. FEBRUARY 26.

268

to ba made, and concentrated so that it
will mark 10 degrees, equal to about
J071. And to this as much sulphate of
ropper is to be added as will be equal to
one-twelfth part of the galls employed to
make the decoction. The several matters
being so prepared, six measures of the
decoction are to be mixed with four
measures of the solution of gum; and to
this mixture from three to four measures
of the metallic solution are to be added,
by a little at a time, mixing the several
matters each time by shaking. Ink so
made, will, he says, form no sediment :
and he estimates the proportions of solid
matters contained in it to be five hundred
parts of gums, four hundred and sixty-
two parts of the extract of galls and log-
wood, and four hundred and eighty-one
parts of metallic oxides.

Dr. Bancroft, who gives these particu-
lars from Chaptal, proposes the following,
as being generally the most suitable pro-
portions for composing the best and most
lasting writing ink, viz :

Take of good Aleppo galls, in sorts,
coarsely powdered, twelve ounces, and of
chipped logwood six ounces; boil these
in five quarts of soft water two hours, and
strain off the decoction whilst hot ; then
put to the residuum as much boiling
water as, when properly stirred, strained,
and added to the former, will suffice to
make the whole of the decoction equal to
one gallon ; add to this five ounces of
sulphate of iron, with the same quantity
of gum arabic, and two ounces of good
dry muscovado sugar ; let these be all
dissolved, and well mixed by stirring.

A calcination of the sulphate of iron,
which Chaptal, Proust, and some others
have recommended, Dr. Bancroft does
not regard as of much importance ; for,
he says, though the ink may be thereby
made to attain its utmost degree of dark-
ness, almost immediately, yet the strong
disposition which ink has to absorb oxy-
gen from the atmosphere until saturated
therewith, will enable it, without such
calcination, to attain an equal degree of
blackness, in a day or two, according to
the temperature of the air, if the latter be
allowed free access to it. For reasons
which he also states, he omits the sulphate
of copper ; though he observes that, if any
portion of that metal were deemed bene-
ficial, he should prefer verdigrise to the
sulphate, the latter containing a much
larger proportion of acid than even the
sulphate of iron, and being, therefore,

more likely to render the ink corrosive
He regards gurn as highly iiseful to retard
the separation and subsidence of iti
black part, or compound of colouring
matter and iron, previous to its applica-
tion to paper, as well as to hinder it, when
used, from spreading and penetrating too
far.

Indelible Writing Ink.
M. Chaptal remarks, that, since the
oxygenated muriatic acid had been found
cap'able of discharging the colour of com-
mon writing ink, both from parchment
and paper,without injuring their texture, it
had been fraudulently employed to efface
particular parts or words of deeds, con-
tracts, or other writings, for which others
had been substituted, leaving the signa-
tures untouched. In consequence of
these frauds, the commercial parts of
society, as well as governments, were
solicitous for the discovery of some com-
position, which might be employed in-
stead of common writing ink, without
its defects ; therefore Chaptal, (being
then minister of the interior of France,
and possessed of great chemical science,)
as might be expected, occupied him-
self particularly with that subject ; and
he states, that up to the then present time,
the composition which had been found
most useful for this purpose, consisted of
a solution of glue in water, with which a
sufficient portion of lamp black and a
little sea salt were intimately mixed, by
rubbing them together on marble. This
composition was made sufficiently thin
by water, to flow readily from the pen ;
and he describes it as being capable of
resisting the action, not merely of cold,
but of boiling water, and also of acids,
alkalies, and spirit of wine ; and attended
with no inconvenience but that of abra-
sion by being rubbed.

It is observed by Dr. Bancroft, that
v/hen lamp black has been incorporated
v/ith common ink, by first rubbing the
former in a mortar with a mucilage of
gum arabic, the writing done with it
could not be rendered invisible by the
application of muriatic acid ; and, doubt-
less, such an addition of lamp black would
hinder the letters from ever becoming
illegible by age, at least within any length
of time which the paper and parchment
could be expected to last. But ink made
with this addition would require to be
frequently shaken or stirred, as the lamp

269

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. FEBRUARY 27.

black would otherwise be apt to separate
and subside.

In the making of indelible ink, the re-
ceipt for lamp black before given may be
of considerable importance.

Calico Printing.

Perhaps no object has more engaged
" the ingenious chemist's art" than this,
and leave is craved to conclude this diver-
sion from the mayoralty seal of London,
by what may be serviceable to some who
are actively engaged in an extensive branch,
from whence our private chambers, and
the dresses of our wives and daughters,
derive continual improvement.

Prosubstantive, or Chemical Black, for

Calico Printers.

" Some years ago," says Dr. Bancroft,
" I purchased of a calico printer, possess-
ing great knowledge of the principles arid
practice of his art, the secret of a compo-
sition which he had employed with suc-
cess, as a prosubstantive black, and which,
as far as I can judge from experiments
upon a small scale, deserved the high
commendations which he bestowed upon
it : and though I have never obtained the
smallest pecuniary advantage from this
purchase, in any way, I will here give
the full benefit of it to the public. The
following was his recipe, with some ab-
breviations of language : viz. Take two
pounds of the best mixed galls, in powder,
and boil them in one gallon of vinegar,
until their soluble part is extracted, or
dissolved ; then strain off the clear de-
coction, and add to the residuum of the
galls as much water as will be equal to
the vinegar evaporated in boiling ; stir
them a little, and after allowing the pow-
dered galls time to subside, strain off' the
clear liquor, and mix it with the former
decoction, adding to the mixture six
ounces of sulphate of iron ; and this being
dissolved, put to it six ounces more of
sulphate of iron, after it has been pre-
viously mixed with, and dissolved by,
half of its weight of single aquafortis ; let
this be stirred, and equally dispersed
through the mixture, which is to be thick-
ened by dissolving therein a sufficient
quantity of gum tragacanth, (of which a
very small proportion will suffice.) Ca-
lico, after being printed or pencilled with
this mixture, should, when the latter is
sufficiently dried, be washed in lime
water, to remove the gum and superfluous
colour, and then either streamed or well
rinsed in clear water. This composition

270

has not been found to weaken, or injure,
the texture of calico printed or pencilled
with it, and the colour is thought unob-
jectionable in regard to its blackness and
durability."

It is added by Dr. Bancroft, that
" when sulphate of iron is mixed with
aquafortis, the latter undergoes a decom-
position ; the oxygen of the nitric acid
combining with the iron, and raising it to
a much higher degree of oxidation ; the
result of these operations is the production
of a fluid which has the consistence and
smooth appearance of oil, and 'which
(though the name may not be quite unex-
ceptionable) I will call a nitre- sulphate
of iron. 1 have been induced to believe,
from several trials, that a better prosub-
stantive black than any other within my
knowledge may be formed, by taking a
decoction, containing in each gallon the
soluble matter of two pounds of the best
galls, in sorts, and when cold, adding to
it for each gallon twelve ounces of sul-
phate of iron, which had been previously
mixed with half its weight of single aqua-
fortis, (of which one wine pint should
weigh about twenty ounces,) and, by the
decomposition just described, converted
to the nitro-sulphate of iron just mentioned.
By thus employing twelve ounces of sul-
phate of iron, oxygenated by nitric acid,
instead of six ounces of the latter, with
six ounces of the green sulphate in its
ordinary state, an improvement in the
colour seems, by my experiments, to have
been invariably produced, and without
any corroding or hurtful action upon the
fibres of the cotton."
. With these scientific receipts and sug-
gestions it may be agreeable to close
Matters of this kind have not been before
introduced, nor is it purposed to repeat
them ; and those who think they are out
of place at present, may be asked to re-
collect whether any of themselves ever
obtained knowledge of any kind that, at
some period or other, did not corne
into use ?

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature . . 40 72.

CHRONOLOGY.

A Scotch newspaper of the 27th of
February, 1 753, relates, that on the pre-
ceding Wednesday se'nnight, the river

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. FEBRUARY 28.

272

Tweed was dried up from six o'clock in
the morning to six in the evening, the
current having been entirely suspended.
On the 20th of February, 1748, the river
Sark, near Philipston, in the parish of
Kirk Andrews upon Eske, and the Lid-
del, near Penton, in the same parish,were
both dry. At the same time other rivers
also lost their waters. These remarkable
phenomena are naturally accounted for in
the " Gentleman's Magazine for 1753,"
vol. xxiii. p. 156.

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature ... 41 39.

jftbruarp 28.

Dr. Johnson.

It was recorded in the daily journals,
on the 28th of February, 1755, that
" the university of Oxford, in full convo-
cation, unanimously conferred the degree of
master of arts on the learned Mr. Samuel
Johnson, author of the New English
Dictionary." Such a testimony to dis-
tinguished merit, from a learned univer-
sity, was, perhaps, such a reward as Dr.
Johnson appreciated more highly than
others of more seeming worth ; the pub-
licity given to it at the time is evidence
of the notoriety he had attained by his
literary labours, and of the interest taken
in his fame by every class of society. He
taught and admonished all ranks, in a
style that charmed by its luxuriant ampli-
fication of simple truths, when the ma-
jority of people refused the wholesome
labour of reflection. Johnson's ethical
writings verify the remark of a shrewd
writer, that " a maxim is like an ingot of
gold, which you may draw out to any
length you please."

Gin Lane.

The "Historical Chronicle" of the
" Gentleman's Magazine," notices that
on this day, in the year 1736, a proposal
was submitted to the house of commons
" for laying such a duty on distilled spi-
rituous liquors as might prevent the ill
consequences of the* poorer sort drinking
them to excess," whereon it takes occa-
sion to adduce the following fact: " We
have observed some signs, where such
liquors are retailed, with the following
inscriptions, Drunk for a penny, dead
drunk for twopence, clean straw for
nothing." This record establishes the
reality of the inscription in Hogarth's
fearful print of " Gin-lane," and marks
a trait in the manners of that period,
which, to the credit of the industrious
classes of society, has greatly abated.

Drunkenness exists nowhere but in the
vicious or the irresolute. " Give a poor
man work and you will make him rich."
Give a drunkard work and he will only
keep sober till he has earned enough to
drink again and get poor. While he is
drinking he robs himself of his time ;
drinking robs him of his understanding
and health ; when he is unfit or disin-
clined to work he will lie to avoid it ; and
if he succeeds in deceiving, he will pro-
bably turn thief. Thus a drunkard is not
to be relied on either for true speaking,
or honest principle ; and therefore those
who see that drinking leads to falsehood
and dishonesty, never attach credit to
what a drunkard says, nor trust him within
reach of their property.

NATURALISTS CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature . . 40 44

273

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. -MARCH.

274

MARCH.

Now husbandman and hinds in March preparo,
And order take, against the teeming year,
Survey their lands, and keep a good look out
To get their fields and farms well fenc'd about.
Now careful gard'ners, during sunny days,
Admit to greenhouses the genial rays :
Vines, espaliers, and standard trees demand
The pruner's skilful eye, and ready hand ;
And num'rous shoots and roots court the i i d toil
Of transplantation, or another soil.

In the " Mirror of the Months" it is
observed, that at this season a strange com-
motion may be seen and heard among the
winded creatures, portending momentous
matters. The lark is high up in the cold
air before daylight, and his chosen mis-

tress is listening to him down among the
dank grass, with the dew still upon her
unshaken wing. The robin, too, has left
off, for a brief season, his low plaintive
piping, which it must b confessed was
poured forth for his! own exclusive satis-

275

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH,

276

faction, and, reckoning on his spruce
looks and sparkling eyes, issues his quick
peremptory love-call, in a somewhat un-
gallant and husband-like manner.

The sparrows, who have lately been
sulking silently about from tree to tree,
with ruffled plumes and drooping wings,
now spruce themselves up till they do not
look half their former size ; and if it were
not pairing-time, one might fancy that
there was more of war than of love in
their noisy squabblings.

Now, also, the ants first begin to show
themselves from their subterranean
sleeping-rooms ; those winged abortions,
the bats, perplex the eyes of evening
wanderers by their seeming ubiquity;
and the owls hold scientific converse with
each other at half a mile distance.

Now, quitting the country till next
month, we find London all alive, Lent
and Lady-day notwithstanding; for the
latter is but a day after all ; and he must
have a very countrified conscience who
cannot satisfy it as to the former, by doing
penance once or twice at an oratorio, and
hearing comic songs sung in a foreign
tongue ; or, if this does not do, he may
fast if he please, every Friday, by eating
salt fish in addition to the rest of his fare.

During this month some birds that took
refuge in our temperate climate, from the
rigour of the arctic winters, now begin to
leave us, and return to the countries
where they were bred ; the redwing-thrush,
fieldfare, and woodcock, are of this kind,
and they retire to spend their summer in
Norway, Sweden, and other northern re-

gions. The reason why these birds quit
the north of Europe in winter is evidently
to escape the severity of the frost ; but
why at the approach of spring they should
return to their former haunts is not so
easily accounted for. It cannot be want
of food, for if during the winter in this
country they are able to subsist, they may
fare plentifully through the rest of the
year ; neither can their migration be caused
by an impatience of warmth, for the sea-
son when they quit this country is by no
means so hot as the Lapland summers ;
and in fact, from a few stragglers or
wounded birds annually breeding here,
it is evident that there is nothing in our
climate or soil which should hinder them
from making this country their perma-
nent residence, as the thrush, blackbird,
and other of their congeners, actually do.
The crane, the stork, and other birds,
which used formerly to be natives of our
island, have quitted it as cultivation and
population have extended ; it is probable,
also, that the same reason forbids the
fieldfare and redwing-thrush, which are
of a timorous, retired disposition, to make
choice of England as a place of sufficient
security to breed in.*

In this month commences the yeaning
season of those gentle animals whose
clothing yields us our own, and engages
in its manufacture a large portion of hu-
man industry and ingenuity. The poet of
" The Fleece" beautifully describes and
admonishes the shepherd of the accidents
to which these emblems of peace and
innocence are exposed, when " abroad in
the meadows beside of their dams."

Spread around thy tend'rest diligence
In flow'ry spring-time, when the new-dropt lamb,
Tott'ring with weakness by his mother's side,
Feels the fresh world about him ; and each thorn,
Hillock, or furrow, trips his feeble feet :
O, guard his meek sweet innocence from all
Th' innumerous ills, that rush around his life :
Mark the quick kite, with beak and ta-lons prone,
Circling the skies to snatch him from the plain ;
Observe the lurking crows ; beware the brake,
There the sly fox the careless minute waits ;
Nor trust thy neighbour's dog, nor earth, nor sky ;
Thy bosom to a thousand cares divide.
Eurus oft slings his hail ; the tardy fields
Pay not their promis'd food ; and oft the dam
O'er her weak twins with empty udder mourns,

* Aikin'sYear.

277

THE EVFRY-DAY BOOK. MARC II 1,2.

Or fails to guard, when the bold bird of prey
Alights, and hops in many turns around,
And tires her also turning : to her aid
Be nimble, and the weakest, in thine arms,
Gently convey to the warm cote, and oft,
Between the lark's note and the nightingale's,
His hungry bleating still with tepid milk ;
In this soft office may thy children join,
And charitable habits learn in sport :
Nor yield him to himself, ere vernal airs
Sprinkle thy little croft with daisy flowers.

Dyer,

St. David's Day.

To the particulars connected with this
anniversary, related in vol. i. p. 317-322,
may be added that Coles, in his " Adam
in Eden," says, concerning leeks, " The
gentlemen in Wales have them in great
regard, both for their feeding, and to
wear in their hats upon St. David's day."

It is affirmed in the " Royal Apoph-
thegms" of James I., that " the Welchmen
in commemoration of the Great Fight by
the Black Prince of Wales, do wear Leeks
as their chosen ensign."

Mr. Brand received through the late
Mr. Jones, Welsh bard to the king, as
prince of Wales, a transcript of the fol-
lowing lines from a MS. in the British
Museum.

I like the leeke above all herbes and flowers.
When first we wore the same the feild was

ours.
The leeke is white and greene, wherby is

ment

That Britaines are both stout and eminent ;
Next to the lion and the unicorn,
The leeke's the fairest emblyn that is worne.
Harl. MS. 1977.

The bishop's " Last Good Night," a
single sheet satire, dated 1642, has a
stanza which runs thus :

" Landaff, provide for St. David's day,
Lest the leeke, and red-herring run away :
Are you resolved to go or stay ?

You are called for, Landaff:

Come in, Landaff."

There is the following proverb on this
day:

*' Upon St. David's day, put oats and barley
in the clay." Ray.

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature. . . 42 27

Strange Narrative.

A rare quarto tract alleges some extra-
ordinary appearances in Ireland on this
day in the year 1679. It is here reprinted
verbatim, beginning with the title-page :
viz.

A TRUE ACCOUNT of divers most
strange and prodigious APPARITIONS
seen in the Air at Poins-town, in the
county of Tipperary, in Ireland : March
the second, 1 678-9. Attested by Sixteen
Persons that were Eye-witnesses. Pub-
lished at Dublin, and thence communi-
cated hither. Licensed, 1679. London:
printed for L. C., 1 679.

Upon the second day of this present
month, being Sunday in the evening, near
sun-set, several gentlemen and others,
hereinafter named, walked forth into the
fields, and the sun going down behind a
hill, and appearing somewhat bigger than
ordinary, they discourst about it, direct-
ing their eyes towards the place where the
sun set.

When one of the company observed in
the air, near the place where the sun went
down, an arm of a blackish blew colour,
with a ruddy complexioned hand at one
end and at the other end a cross piece,
with a ring fastned to the middle of it,
like one end of an anchor, which stood
still a while, and then made northwards,
and so disappeared; while they were
startled at the sight which they all ?a*/v,
and wondred what it should be and mean,
there appeared at a great distance in the
air, from the same part of the sky, some-
thing like a ship coming towards them ;
and so near to them it came, that they
could distinctly perceive the masts, sails,
tacklings, and men ; she then seemed to
tack about, and sailed with the stern fore-
most, northwards, upon a dark, smooth
sea, (not ?ppn before,) which stretched

279

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 2.

280

itself from south-west to the north-west ;
having seemed thus to sail for some few
minutes, she sunk by degrees into the sea,
her stern first, and as she sunk, they per-
ceived her men plainly running up the
tackling, in the fore-part of the ship, as it
were, to save themselves from drowning.
The ship disappearing, they all sate
down on a green bank, talking of, and
wondring at what they had seen, for a
small space, and then appeared (as that
ship had done) a fort, or high place strong-
ly fortifyed, with somewhat like a castle on
the top of it : out of the sides of which,
by reason of some clouds of smoake, and
a flash of fire suddenly issuing out, they
concluded some shot to be made. The
fort then immediately was divided into
two parts, which were in an instant trans-
formed into two exact ships, like the other
they had seen, with their heads towards
each other. That towards the south,
seemed to chase the other with its stern
foremost, northwards, till it sunk with its
stern first, as the first ship had done. The
other ship sayled sometime after, and then
sunk with its head first. It was observed,
that men were running upon the decks in
these two ships, but they did not see them
climb up, as in the last ship, excepting one
man, whom they saw distinctly to get up
with much haste upon the very top of the
bowsprit of the second ship, as they were
sinking. They supposed the two last
ships were engaged and fighting, for they
saw like bullets rouling upon the sea,
while they were both visible.

The ships being gone, the company
rose, and were about to go away, when
one of them perswaded the rest to stay,
and said, he saw some little black thing
coming towards them, which he believed
would be worth their observation, then
some of the rest observed the same ;
whereupon, they sate down again, and
presently there appeared a chariot, some-
what like that which Neptune is repre-
sented riding in, drawn with two horses,
which turned as the ships had done, north-
ward. And immediately after it, came a
strange frightful creature, which they con-
cluded to be some kind of serpent, hav-
ing an head like a snake, and a knotted
bunch or bulk at the other end, something
resembling a snail's house.

This monster came suddenly behind
the chariot, and gave it a sudden violent
blow, then out of the chariot straight
leaped a bull and a dog, which following
him seemed to bait him : these also went

northward, as the former phenomena had
done, the bull first holding his head down-
ward, then the dog, and then the chariot,
till they all sunk down one after another,
about the same place, and just in the same
manner as the former.

These last meteors being vanished, there
were several appearances like ships, and
other things, in the same place, and after
that like order with the former ; but the
relators were so surprised and pleased
with what they had seen, especially with
the bull and dog, that they did not much
observe them ; and besides, they were not
so visible as the rest, the night drawing
on so fast, that they could not well dis-
cern them.

The whole time of the vision or repre-
sentation lasted near an hour, and it was
observable, that it was a very clear and a
very calm evening, no cloud seen, no mist,
nor any wind stirring. All the pheno-
mena came out of the west, or south-west.
They seemed very small, and afar off, and
at first seemed like birds at a good dis-
tance, and then being come to the place,
where there was the appearance of a sea,
they were discerned plainly in their just
proportion. They all moved northwards,
the ships, as appeared by their sails, went
against the wind ; they all sunk out of
sight, much about the same place. When
they disappeared, they did not dilate
themselves, and become invisible as clouds
do, but every the least part of them, was
as distinctly seen at the last, as they had
been all along. The height of the scene
on which these meteors moved, was about
as much above the horizon, as the sun is
being half an hour high. Of the whole
company, there was not any one but saw
all those things, as above written ; all
agreed in their notions and opinions about
them, and were all the while busie talking
concerning what they saw, either much
troubled, or much pleased, according to
the nature of the appearance.

The names of the persons who saw the
foregoing passage :

Mr.Allye, a minister, living near the place.
Lieutenant Dunstervile and his son.
Mr. Grace, his son-in-law.
Lieutenant Dwine, 1 Scholars and
Mr. Dwine, his brother, I Travellers.
Mr. Christopher Hewelson.
Mr. Richard Foster.
Mr. Adam Hewelson.
Mr. Bates, a schoolmaster
Mr. Larkin.

E EVKHY-DAY BOOK. M AK(J li 3.

282

Mrs. Dunstervile,

her daughter-in-law,

her maiden-daughter.
Mr. Dwine's daughter.
Mrs. Grace, hei daughter.

This account was given by Mr. C.
Hewelson and Mr. R. Foster, two of the
beforenamed spectators : and when it was
related, a servant of Mr. C. H., being
present, did confirm the truth of it ; af-
firming, that ho and others of the servants
being then tog< ther at Poins-town, in ano-
ther place, saw the very same sights, and
did very much wonder' at them. Finis.

This wonderful wonder is worthy of
preservation, for the very reason thai
renders it scarcely worthy of remark. It
was a practice, before the period when
the preceding tract was printed, for par-
tisans to fabricate and publish strange
narratives in behalf of the side they pre-
tended to aid, with the further view of
blackening or injuring those whom they
opposed. Such stories were winked at
as " pious frauds," and found ready sale
among the vulgar. As parties declined,
the business of the writers and venders
of such productions declined, and some
among them of desperate fortune resorted
to similar manufactures on any subject
likely to astonish the uninformed. The
present "True Account" may be regard-
ed as a curious specimen of this kind of
forgery. The pamphlet was printed in
London ; the scene being laid in Ireland,
it probably never reached Poins-town,
and if it even travelled thither, the
chance is that there were only a few who
could read it, and certainly none of those
few were interested in its contradiction.
At the present time it is common in
Somersetshire to hear a street-hawker
crying, " A wonderful account of an
apparition that appeared in Hertford-
shire," and selling his papers to an admir-
ing crowd ; the same fellow travelling into
Hertfordshire, there cries the very same
" Apparition that appeared in Somerset-
shire ;" and his printed account equally
well authenticates it to a similarly consti-
tuted audience.

NATURALISTS 7 CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature ... 42 * 80.

St. Winwaloe.

This saint is called Winwaloc, by fa-
ther Cressy, and Winwaloke by father
Porter.

St. Winwaloe's father, named Fragan,
or Fracan, was nearly related to Cathoun,
one of the kings or princes of Wales. In
consequence of Saxon invasions, Fragan
emigrated from Wales to Armorica, where
the spot he inhabited is " called from him
to this day Plou-fragan." Whether Win-
waloe was born there or in Wales is
uncertain ; but he was put under St. Bu-
doc, a British abbot of a monastery in
Isleverte, near the isle of Brebat, from
whence with other monks he travelled, till
they built themselves a monastery at
Landevenech, three leagues from Brest.

He died in 529, at an advanced age. *

Father Cressy says, that St. Winwaloe
worked many miracles ; " among which
the most stupendous was his raising a
young man to life." He further tells, that
" St. Patrick presented himself to him in
a vision, with an angelicall brightnes,
and having a golden diadem on his head,"
and told him he paid him a visit, to pre-
vent Winwaloe, who desired to see him,
" so tedious a journey by sea and land."
St. Patrick in this interview foretold St.
Winwaloe so much, that the father of his
monastery released him with the other
monks before-mentioned, that they might
become hermits ; for which purpose they
travelled, till, wanting a ship, St. Win-
waloe struck the sea with his staff, which
opened a passage for them, and they
walked through singing, and dryshod,
" himself marching in the front, the wa-
ters on both sides standing like walls."
Father Cressy says, that St. Winwaloe
never sat in the church ; that " every day
he repeated the hundred and fifty psalms ;"
that to his bed he had neither feathers nor
clothes, "but instead of feathers he strewed
under him nutshells, and instead of
blankets, sand mingled with pebbles, and
two great stones under his head ;" that
he wore the same clothes night and day ;
that his bread was made with half of
barley and half of ashes ; that his other
diet was a mixture of meal and cabbage
without fat ; and that " he took this refec-
tion once, only in two, and sometimes
three dayes."

* Butler.

283

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 3.

284

Besides other particulars, Cressy adds,
that " a town in Shropshire, called even
in the Saxons' time Wenlock, (which
seems a contraction fromWinwaloc,) from
him took its denomination."

He vanquisheth the Devil, fyc.

So father Porter entitles one of his par-
ticulars concerning St. Winwaloe, which
he relates in his " Flowers of the Saincts"
in these words : " The devill envying soe
great sanctitie, endeavoured with his
hellish plotts to trouble and molest his
pious labours, appeared unto him as he
prayed in his oratorie, in the most uglie
and horrid shapes that the master of wick-
ednes could invent, vomitting out of his
infernall throate manie reprochfull wordes
against him ; when he nothing dismayed
thereat, courageously proceeded in his
devotions, and brandishing the chief
armes of life, the holy crosse, against that
black messenger of death, he compelled
him to vanish away in confusion."

St Winwaloe and the cruel Goose.

Bishop Patrick, in his " Reflexions upon
the Devotions of the Roman Church/ 7
cites from the latin "Acts of the Saints,"
a miracle which is quite as miraculous
as either of the preceding. " A sister of
St. Winwaloe had her eye plucked out by
a goose, as she was playing. StWinwaloc
was taught by an angel a sign whereby to
know that goose from the rest, and having
cut it open, found the eye in its entrails,
preserved by the power of God unhurt,
and shining like a gem ; which he took
and put it again in its proper place, and
recovered his sister ; and was so kind also
to the goose as to send it away alive, after
it had been cut up, to the rest of the
flock."

WINNOLD FAIR, NORFOLK.

A correspondent, whose signature has
before appeared, transmits the annexed
communication concerning the hamlet of
Winnold, and the fair held there annually
on this day.

For the Every-Day Book.
A priory, dedicated to St. Winwaloe,
was founded by the family of the earls of
Clare, before the seventh year of king John,
(1206,) in a hamlet, (thence calfed, by
corruption, the hamlet of Whinwall, Win-
nold t or ffynhold,) belonging to the parish
of Wereham, in Norfolk, as a cell to the

abbey of Mounstroll, of the order of St.
Bennet, in the diocese of Amiens, in
France. In 1321, the abbot and convent
sold it to Hugh Scarlet, of London, who
conveyed it to the lady Elizabeth de
Burso, the sister and coheir of Gilbert,
earl of Clare, and she afterwards gave it
to West Dereham abbey, situate a few
miles from Wereham. At the general dis-
solution it was valued, with West Dere-
ham, at252/. 12*. lid. (Speed,) and 228J.
(Dugdale.) Little of the priory is now
remaining, except a part which is thought
to have been the chapel.

A fair for horses and cattle on this day,
which was originally kept in this hamlet
of ffinnold, has existed probably from
the foundation of the priory, as it is men-
tioned in the tenth of Edward III. (1337,)
when the priory and the fair were given
to West Dereham abbey. Though the
abbey and priory, as establishments, are
annihilated, the fair (probably from its
utility) has continued with reputation to
the present day. Soon after the dissolu-
tion, it was removed to the adjoining parish
of Wimbotsham,and continued to be held
there till within the last thirty years, when
it was again removed a few miles further,
to the market town of Downham, as a
more convenient spot, and is now kept in
a field there, called, for reasons unknown,
" the Howdell," and is at this time a very-
large horse and cattle fair ; but, though it
has undergone these removals, it still re-
tains its ancient, original appellation of
"fPinnold Fair."* This fair, which is
perhaps of greater antiquity than any now
kept in the kingdom, will probably pre-
serve the memory of St. Winnold, in the
west of Norfolk and the adjoining coun-
ties, for centuries to come, above the
whole host of his canonized brethren. He
is also commemorated, by the following
traditional West Norfolk proverbial dis-
tich :
" First comes David, next comes Chad,

And then comes Winnold as though he was

mad

noticing the two previous days in March,
(the first and second,) and in allusion to
the prevalence of windy weather at this
period. Whether St. Winnold, in the
zenith of his fame, was remarkable for an
irascibility of temper, I am not en-
abled to say ; yet it rarely happens when
the first few days in March are not at-
tended with such boisterous and tem-
pestuous weather, generally from the

* Blom field's Norfolk. Taylor's Index MonasticuT.

285

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 4.

286

north, that he might not improperly be
termed the Norfolk Boreas."

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature ... 42 * 10.

A Flower of the Season.

The fair author of the " Flora Domes-
tica" inquires, ** Who can see, or hear
the name of the daisy, the common field
daisy, without a thousand pleasurable as-
sociations ? It is connected with the
sports of childhood and with the plea-
sures of youth. We walk abroad to seek
it ; yet it is the very emblem of home.
It is a favourite with man, woman, and
child : it is the robin of flowers. Turn
it all ways, and on every side you will
find new beauty. You are attracted by
the snowy white leaves, contrasted by the
golden tuft in the centre, as it rears its
head above the green grass : pluck it, and
you will find it backed by a delicate star
of green, and tipped with a blush-colour,
or a bright crimson.

' Daisies with their pinky lashes'

are among the first darlings of spring.
They are in flower almost all the year;
closing in the evening, and in wet wea-
ther, and opening on the return of the
sun."

In the poem of a living poet are these
elegant stanzas :

To the Daisy.

A nun demure, of lowly port ;

Or sprightly maiden of Love's court,

In thy simplicity the sport

Of all temptations ;
A queen in crown of rubies drest ;
A starveling in a scanty vest ;
Are all, as seem to suit thee best,

Thy appellations.

A little Cyclops, with one eye

Staring to threaten or defy,

That thought comes next, and instantly

The freak is over ;
The freak will vanish, and behold !
A silver shield with boss of gold,
That spreads itself, some fairy bold

In fight to cover.

I see thee glittering from afar ;
And then thou art a pretty star,
Not quite so fair as many are

In heaven above thee !
Yet like a star, with glittering crest,
Self-poised in air, thou seem'st to rest;-
May peace come never to his nest,

Who shall reprove thee.

Sweet flower ! for by that name at last,
When all my reveries are past,
I call thee, and to that cleaverfast ;

Sweet silent creature !
That breath'st with me in sun and air,
Do thou, as thou art wont, repair
My heart with gladness, and a share

Of thy meek nature.

Wordsworth.

This evergreen of flowers is honoured
by the same delightful bard in other
poems ; our young readers will not find
fault if they are again invited to indulge;
and the graver moralist will be equally
gratified.

To the Daisy.

In youth from rock to rock I went,
From hill to hill, in discontent
Of pleasure high and turbulent,

Most pleased when most uneasy ;
But now my own delights I make,
My thirst at every rill can slake,
And gladly Nature's love partake

Of thee, sweet daisy !

When soothed awhile by milder airs,
Thee Winter in the garland wears
That thinly shades his few grey hairs ;

Spring cannot shun thee ;
Whole summer fields are thine by right ,
And Autumn, melancholy wight,
Doth in thy crimson head delight

When rains are on thee.

In shoals and bands, a morrice train,
Thou greet'st the traveller in the lane ;
If welcomed once, thou count'st it gain ;

Thou art not daunted,
Nor carest if thou be set at naught :
And oft alone in nooks remote
We meet thee, like a pleasant thought,

When such are wanted.

Be violets in their secret mews

The flowers the wanton Zephyrs choose ;

Proud be the rose, with rains and dews

Her head impearling- ;
Thou liv'st with less ambitious aim,
Yet hast not gone without thy fame
Thou art indeed by many a claim

The poet's darling.

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 5.

If to a rock from rains he fly,
Or some bright day of April sky,
Imprisoned by hot sunshine lie

Near the green holly,
And wearily at length should fare ;
He need but look about, and there
Thou art ! a friend at hand, to scare

His melancholy.

A hundred times, by rock or bower,
Ere thus I have lain couched an hour,
Have I derived from thy sweet power

Some apprehension ;
Some steady love ; some brief delight ;
Some memory that had taken flight;
Some chime of fancy, wrong or right ;

Or stray invention.

If stately passions in me burn,

And one chance look to thee should turn,

I drink out of an humbler urn

A lowlier pleasure ;
The homely sympathy that heeds
The common life, our nature breeds ;
A wisdom fitted to the needs

Of hearts at leisure.

When, smitten by the morning ray,

I see thee rise alert and gay,

Then, cheerful flower ! my spirits play

With kindred gladness :
And when, at dusk, by dews opprest
Thou sink'st, the image of thy rest
Hath often eased my pensive breast

Of careful sadness.

And all day long I number yet,
All seasons through, another debt,
Which T, wherever thou art met,

To thee am owing ;
An instinct call it, a blind sense ;
A happy genial influence,
Coming one knows not how nor whence,

Nor whither going.

Child of the year ! that round dost run
Thy course, bold lover of the sun,
And cheerful when the day's begun

As morning leveret,
Thy long-lost praise thou shall regain ;
Dear shall thou be to future men
As in old time ; thou, not in vain,

Art Nature's favourite."

KATURALISTS CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature ... 42 10.

182b. Mid Lent Sunday.

For particulars of this day, see vol. i.
p. 358.

FLOWERS.

Yes Flowers again ! It is the season
of their approach ; therefore make ready
for their coming, and listen to the fair
herald who is eloquent in praise of their
eloquence. She tells us, in her " Flora
Domestica," and who dare deny ? that
" flowers do speak a language, a clear
and intelligible language : ask Mr. Words-
worth, for to him they have spoken, until
they excited * thoughts that lie too deep
for tears ;' ask Chaucer, for he held com-
panionship with them in the meadows ;
ask any of the poets, ancient or modern.
Observe them, reader, love them, linger
over them ; and ask your own heart, if
they do not speak affection, benevolence,
and piety. None have better understood
the language of flowers than the simple-
minded peasant-poet, Clare, whose vo-
lumes are like a beautiful country, diver-
sified with woods, meadows, heaths, and
flower-gardens :

Bowing adorers of the gale,
Ye cowslips delicately pale,

Upraise your loaded stems ;
Unfold your cups in splendour, speak !
Who decked you with that ruddy streak,

And gilt your golden gems ?

Violets, sweet tenants of the shade,
In purple's richest pride arrayed,

Your errand here fulfil ;
Go bid the artist's simple stain
Your lustre imitate, in vain,

And match your Maker's skill.

Daisies, ye flowers of lowly birth,
Embroiderers of the carpet earth,

That stud the velvet sod ;
Open to spring's refreshing air,
In sweetest smiling bloom declare

Your Maker, and my God.

Clarv.

NATURALISTS CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature ... 39 69.

38V

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 6.

290

NATURALISTS CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature ... 40 22.

jHmrfment in

The wooden bird on horseback showing,
By beat of drum with pipers blowing,
They troop along huzzaing, tooting,
To hold their annual game of shooting.

This is a French sport, which, according
to a print from whence the present re-
presentation was taken, is peculiar to the
month of March. The inscription on the
engraving just mentioned, is
MARS.

REJOUISSANCES DU PAPEGUAY.

Les Triomphes d\m Conqutrant
Font voir pins de magnificence :
Mais an defaut de T opulence^
Ceux cy ne content point de Sang.

The " Papo.guay," Papcgai, or Pape-
gaut, is " a wooden bird to shoot at, a
shaw fowl."* This wooden bird in the

VOL. II. 62

* Chambaud.

print is carried on a pole by the man on
horseback, attended by those who are about
to partake of the sport, and preceded by
music. It seems to be a rustic amuse-
ment, and, perhaps, some light may be
thrown on it by the following account from
Miss Plumtre's " Residence in France."
She says, that in connection with the
church of St. John, at Aix, which former-
ly belonged to the knights of St. John of
Jerusalem, there is a ceremony which
used to be called Le Bravade de St. Jean
d'Aix, instituted in the year 1272, on the
return of the army which had followed
Louis IX. or St . Louis, in his las*
expedition to Egypt and the Holy -land

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 6.

292

According to Miss Pliimptre, it was held
on the eve of St. John the Baptist. A
large bird of any kind was tethered in a
field without the town, so that it could
fly only to a certain height, and the youth
of the place, those only of the second
order of nobles, took aim at him with
their bows and arrows in presence of all
the nobility, gentry, and magistracy. He
who killed the bird was king of the arch-
ers for the year ensuing, and the two who
nad gone the nearest after him were ap-
pointed his lieutenant and standard-
bearer; he also nominated several other
officers from among the competitors. The
company then returned into the town, the
judges of the contest marching first, fol-
lowed by the victors : bonfires were made
in several parts, round which the people
danced, while the king and his officers
went from one to the other till they had
danced by turns at them all. The same
diversions were repeated the following
day ; and both evenings the king, at the
conclusion of them, was attended home by
his officers and a concourse of people,
among whom he distributed largesses to a
considerable amount.

At the first institution of this ceremony,
the intention of which was to incite the
young men to render themselves expert
marksmen, the king enjoyed very exten-
sive privileges during the year ; but in
latter times they had been reduced to those
of wearing a large silver medal which was
presented to him at his accession, of en-
joying the right of shooting wherever he
chose, of partaking in the grand mass
celebrated by the order of Malta at their
church on the festival of St. John, and of
l>eing exempted from lodging soldisrs,
and paying what was called Le droit de
piquet, a tax upon all the flour brought
into the town. After the invention of the
arquebuse, instead of shooting at a live
bird with arrows, they fired at a wooden
bird upon a pole, and he who could bring
it down was appointed king : any one
who brought it down two years together
was declared emperor, and in that quality
exempted for life from all municipal taxes.
This ceremony continued till the revolu-
tion.

It appears from hence that this custom
of shooting at a wooden bird on St. John's
eve is very similar to that which the en-
graving represents, as the merriment of the
Papeguay, or wooden bird, belonging to
the month of March

Anecdotes of
BROWNE WILLIS,
The Antiquarian.

To the portrait of this eminent anti-
quary at p. 194, is annexed the day of
his birth, in 1682, and the day whereon
he died, in 1760. That engraving of him
is after an etching made " in 1781, at the
particular request of the Rev. William
Cole, from a drawing made by the Rev.
Michael Tyson, from an original painting
by Dahl." Mr. Cole, in a letter to Mr.
Steevens, speaks of the etching thus : The
copy pleases me infinitely ; nothing can
be more exact and like the copy I sent,
and which, as well as I can recollect, is
equally so to the original. Notwithstand-
ing the distance of time when Dahl drew
his portrait and that in which I knew him,
and the strange metamorphose that age
and caprice had made in his figure, yet 1
could easily trace some lines and traits of
what Mr. Dahl had given of him." Agree-
ably to the promise already given, some
particulars remain to be added concerning
the distinguished individual it represents.

Browne Willis was grandson of Dr.
Thomas Willis, the most celebrated phy-
sician of his time, and the eldest son of
Thomas Willis, esq., of Bletchley, in the
county of Bucks. W'hen at Westminster
school, "the neighbouring abbey drew his
admiration : here he loved to walk and
contemplate. The solemnity of the build-
ing, the antique appearance, the monu-
ments, filled his whole mind. He de-
lighted himself in reading old inscriptions.
Here he first imbibed the love of antiqui-
ties, and the impression grew indelible."
At seventeen he was admitted a gentleman
commoner of Christ Church college; in
1 705 he represented the town of Bucking-
ham in parliament, where he constantly
attended, and often sat on committees ; in
1707 he married ; in 1718 he became an
active member of the society of antiqua-
ries ; in 1720 the university of Oxford
conferred on him the degree of M. A. by
diploma; and in 1740 he received from
it the degree of LL. D. On the llth of
February, 1760, he was buried in Fenny
Stratford chapel, an edifice which, though
he founded it himself, he was accustomed
to attribute to the munificence of others,
" who were in reality only contributors."
Of his numerous antiquarian works the
principal are " Notitia Parliamcntaria, c*

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 6.

294

an History of the Counties, Cities, and
Boroughs in England and Wales," 3 vols.
Bvo. " Mitred Abbies, &c." 2 vols. 8vo.
" Cathedrals of England," 3 vols. 4to.
and 4 vols. Bvo. He attained a most ex-
tensive erudition in the topographical,
architectural, and numismatic remains of
England by devoting his life to their study,
which he pursued with unabated ardour,
uncheered by the common hope of deriving
even a sufficiency from his various publi-
cations to defray their expenses. In a
letter to his friend Dr. Ducarel, when he
was seventy-four years of age, he says, "I
am 100/. out of pocket by what I have
printed ; except my octavo of Parliaments,
which brought me \5l. profit, though I
gave it all away, and above 20J. more to
build Buckingham tower steeple ; and
now, as I hoped for subscription to this
book, (his last work, the History of the
Town and Hundred of Buckingham) am
Jike to have half the impression on my
hands. Sold only 69 copies, of which to
gentlemen of Buckinghamshire, only 28."
In the same year, 1756, he writes to one
of his daughters, " I have worked for
nothing ; nay, except in one book, have
been out of pocket, and at great expense
in what I printed " He considerably im-
paired his fortune by the scrupulosity and
magnitude of his researches and collec-
tions, which he persevered in till he grew
so weak and infirm that he had not
strength to reach down and turn over his
books, or draw up particulars with his own
hands. Yet even then, in his seventy-
eighth year, he amused himself by in-
quiries concerning " Bells," and obtained
returns of the contents of belfries in nearly
six hundred parishes of the county of Lin-
coln, which he entered in the " Parochiale
Anglicanum."

An account of Dr. Willis was read to
the society of antiquaries, by his friend
Dr. Ducarel, who sums up his character
in these words : " This learned society,
of which he was one of the first revivers,
and one of the most industrious members,
can bear me witness that he was indefati-
gable in his researcnes ; for his works
were of the most laborious kind. But
what enabled him, besides his unwearied
diligence, to bring them to perfection,
was, his being blessed with a most excel-
lent memory. He had laid so good a
foundation of learning, that, though he
had chiefly conversed with records, and

otner matters of antiquity which are not
apt to form a polite style, yet he expressed
himself, in all his compositions, in an
easy and genteel manner. He was, in-
deed, one of the first who placed our
ecclesiastical history and antiquities upon
a firm basis, by grounding them upon rer-
cords and registers ; which, in the main,
are unexceptionable authorities. During
the course of his long life, he had visited
every cathedral in England and Wales,
except Carlisle ; which journeys he used
to call his pilgrimages. In his friendships
none more sincere and hearty; always
communicative, and ever ready to assist
every studious and inquisitive person:
this occasioned an acquaintance and con-
nection between him and all his learned
contemporaries. For his mother, the
university of Oxford, he always expressed
the most awful respect and the wannest
esteem. As to his piety and moral quali-
fications, he was strictly religious, without
any mixture of superstition or enthusiasm,
and quite exemplary in this respect : and
of this, his many public works, in build-
ing, repairing, and beautifying of churches,
are so many standing evidences. He was
charitable to the poor and needy ; just and
upright towards all men. In a word, no
one ever deserved better of the society of
antiquaries ; if industry and an incessant
application, throughout a long life, to the
investigating the antiquities of this na-
tional church and state, is deserving of
their countenance."

The editor of the Every-Day Book
possesses an unprinted letter written by
Dr. Willis to the learned bishop Tanner,
when chancellor of Norwich. A copy of
this letter is subjoined, together with a
fac-simile of its date and the place from
whence it was addressed, in Dr. Willis's
hand-writing, and a further fac-siraile of
his autograph at the conclusion. The
epistle is written on a proof impression of
" The Ichnography or Platform of the
Cathedral Church of Christ Church in
Oxford," one of the plates in Dr. Willis's
" Cathedrals," relative to which, as well
as other works, he sought information
from his distinguished brother antiquary
This letter is a good specimen of 1/r.
Willis's epistolary style of communica-
tion, and of that minuteness of investi-
gation which is indispensable to antiqua-
rian labours : it likewise testifies his
solicitude for the education of his eldest

295

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 6.

son " Tom," who died four years before
himself, and expresses a natural desire
that Dr. Tanner would visit his ecclesi-
astical foundation at Fenny Stratford.

Copy.
To

The Rev. Dr. Tanner

Chancellor of Norwich
att
Norwich

Dear Mr. Chancellor,
I am honoured with yours just now
received, and though weary with a jour-
ney being come home to night after 3
days absence, and lying out of my Bed
which I have not done since Sir Thomas
Lee's Election in January, yet I cannot
omitt paying my duty to you and thank-
ing you for the favour and satisfaction
yours gave mee I have printed above 20
Prebendal Stalls of Lincoln but it does
not goe on so fast as I would have it,
else I should soon come to Ely, but I
doubt I shall stay a long time for the
draughts, wherefore I pray when you
write to Dr. Knight press his getting them
done out of hand I have here one of
Christ-church which I write upon that
you may give your opinion I shall be
very glad you approve it, wee cannot
well put in more references. As to the
Prebend arys of Lincoln, since I have
wrote 5 or 6 letters to the Bishop without
an answer, I am obliged to be contented.
I should be glad of Thomas Davies's Epi-
taph from Bexwell. He was vicar of
Siston co: Leicester and A.M. as my Ac-
count says. I have only 4 or 5 to enquire
after that I shall be so eager to find, viz.
Joshua Clark (Prebendary) of Cester, who
died 1712. I have wrote to his 2 suc-
cessors and cannot hear one word : The
others I want are John Davenport, Mr.
Davies's predecessor in Sutton Prebend,
and Henry Moriand or Merland who
died about 1704 ; but I would more par-
ticularly enquire after Thomas Stanhope,
who, about 1668, was installed into the
Prebend of Sutton cum Buckingham I
shall be thankfull for any Information of
him, as I am of all opportunitys of hear-
ing from you, and design to lay by your
papers of Ely to send you again : but I

am teized sadly about Bishop Lloyd of
Norwich's great Seal, and the circumscrip-
tion round it, and have had 2 letters this
week on that account : what my importu-
nate correspondent wants is, the circle of
writing round the Episcopal Seal in
which he wrote his name Gulielimus : I
am ashamed to repeat this Impertinence
to which I pray a quick answer, especialy
as to another subject of the greatest con-
sequence of all, which is about placing my
Eldest Son at Christ -church, where I de-
sign to make him a commoner, for he
must study hard I am to consult about
a Tutor, and would gladly have one you
have a confidence in ; there are recom-
mended Mr. Allen, Mr. Bateman, and
Mr. Ward ; now if you can answer for
ever an one of these, and that he will, on
your friendshipp or the Dean's, have a
more particular eye to Tom, whom I dont
design to continue above 2 or 3 years at
most, I shall be very thankfull for your
recommendation. And so pray dear Mr.
Chancellor write soon and advise mee,
but I hope your affairs will call you to
Oxford, and that you will take mee in
your way and see Stratford chapell, which
is very near, and your ever obliged and
devoted Servant in all things,

Browne Willis's letter is franked by
Dr. Richard Willis, bishop of Winches-
ter, who was translated to that see from
the bishopric of Salisbury, in 1723. A
fac-simile of his autograph, on this occa-
sion, is annexed.

The character of Dr. Willis, by Dr.
Ducarel, records his *' pilgrimages" to
" every cathedral in England and Wales,
except Carlisle." The antiquity, and the
purposes of religious buildings, were ob-
jects of his utmost veneration ; and he
had the remarkable propensity of visiting
churches on the festival-day of the saint
to whom they were dedicated. In Fenny
Stratford chapel he placed the following
lines, "to the memory of Thomas Willis,

297

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 6.

298

M.D.," his grandfather, through whom he derived his patrimonial estates:

In honour to thy mem'ry, blessed Shade !

Was the foundation of this chapel laid.

Purchas'd by thee, thy son, and present heir,

Owes these three manors to thy sacred care.

For this, may all thy race thanks ever pay,

And yearly celebrate St. Martin's day ! B. W.

A letter he wrote within three months
before his death particularizes his regard
of festival-days.

Mr. Nichols transcribes a letter which
he wrote very late in life, dated Nov.
13, 1759: "Good Mr. Owen, This
omes to thank you for your favour at
Oxford at St. Frideswide's festival ; and
as your Bodleian visitation is over, I
hope you are a little at liberty to come
and see your friends ; and as you was
pleased to mention you would once more
make me happy with your good com-
pany, I wish it might be next week, at
our St. Martin's anniversary at Fenny
Stratford, which is Thursday se'nnight,
the 22d instant, when a sermon will be
preached by the minister of Buckingham :
the last I am ever like to attend, so very
infirm as I am now got ; so that I stir
very little out of the house, and it will
therefore be charity to have friends come
and visit me."

Mr. Gough's manuscripts relate of Dr.
Willis, that "he told Mr. S. Bush he
was going to Bristol on St. Austins-day
to see the cathedral, it being the dedica-
tion day" It is added, that " he would
lodge in no house at Bath but the Abbey-
house : he said, when he was told that.
Wells cathedral was 800 years old, there
was not a stone of it left 500 years ago."

Miss Talbot, " in an unprinted letter
to a lady of first-rate quality," dated
from the rectory house of St. James's
parish, (Westminster,) January 2, 1739,
humorously describes him and says, "As
by his little knowledge of the world, he
has ruined a fine estate, that was, when
he first had it, worth 2000/. per annum,
his present circumstances oblige him to
an odd-headed kind of frugality, that
shows itself in the slovenliness of his
dre?s, and makes him think London
much too extravagant an abode for his
daughters ; at the same time that his zeal
for antiquities makes him think an old
copper farthing very cheaply bought for a
guinea, and any journey properly under-
taken that will bring him to some old
cathedral en the saivt's day to which it

was dedicated." Further on, Miss Tal-
bot adds, relative to Dr. Willis on St.
George's day, " To honour last Sunday
as it deserved, after having run about all
the morning to all the St. George's
churches, whose difference of hours per-
mitted him, he came to dine with us in a
tie-wig, that exceeds indeed all descrip-
tion. 'Tis a tie-wig (the very colour of
it is inexpressible) that he has had, he
says, these nine years ; and of late it has
lain by at his barber's, never to be put on
but once a year, in honour of the Bishop
of Gloucester's (Benson) birth- day."

These peculiarities of Dr. Willis are
in Mr. Nichols's " Literary Anecdotes,"
from which abundant depository of facs,
the particulars hereafter related are like-
wise extracted, with a view to the inform-
ation of general readers. On the same
ground, that gentleman's collection is
mentioned ; for it is not to be presumed
that any real inquirer into the " Literary
History" of the last or the preceding cen-
tury can be ignorant, that Mr. Nichols's
invaluable work is an indispensable *
assistant to every diligent investigator.
It is certainly the fullest, and is probably
the most accurate, source that can be con-
sulted for biographical facts during that
period, and is therefore quoted by name,
as all authors ought to be by every writei
or editor who is influenced by grateful
feelings towards his authorities, and honest
motives towards the public.

Dr. Willis was whimsically satirized
in the following verses by Dr. Darrell of
Lillington Darrell.

AN EXCELLENT BALLA.D.

To the Tune of Chcvy-Chace.

Whilome there dwelt near Buckingham,

That famous county town,
At a known place, hight Whaddou Chace,

A 'squire of odd renown.

THE E VERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 6.

A Druid's sacred form he bore,

His robes a girdle bound :
Deep vers'd he was in ancient lore,

In customs old, profound.

A stick torn from that hallow'd tree

Where Chaucer us'd to sit,
And tell his tales with leering glee,

Supports his tott'ring feet.

High on a hill his mansion stood

But gloomy dark within ;
Here mangled books, as bones and blood

Lie in a giant's den.

Crude, undigested, half-devour'd,

On groaning shelves they're thrown ;

Such manuscripts no eye could read,
Nor hand write but his own.

No prophet he, like Sydrophel,

Could future times explore ;
But what had happen'd, he could tell,

Five hundred years and more.

A walking Alm'nack he appears,
Slept from some mouldy wall,

Worn out of use thro* dust and years,
Like scutcheons in his hall.

His boots were made of that cow's hide,

By Guy of Warwick slain ;
Time's choicest gifts, aye to abide

Among the chosen train.

Who first receiv'd the precious boon,

We're at a loss to learn,
By Spelman, Camden, Dugdale, worn,

And then they came to Hearne.

Hearne strutted in them for a while ;

And then, as lawful heir,
Browne claim'd and seiz'd the precious spoil,

The spoil of many a year.

His car himself he did provide,

To stand in double stead ;
That it should carry him alive,

And bury him when dead.

By rusty coins old kings ne'd trace,
And know their air and mien :

King Alfred he knew well by face,
Tho* George he ne'er had seen.

This wight th' outside of churches lov'd,

Almost unto a sin ;
Spires Gothic of more use he prov'd

Than pulpits are within.

Of use, no doubt, when high in air,
A wand'ring bird they'll rest,

Or with a Bramin's holy care,
Make lodgments for its nest.

Ye Jackdaws, that are us'd to talk,

Like us of human race,
TV'ien nigh you see Browne Willis walk

Loud chatter forth his praise.

Whene'er the fatal day shall come,

For come, alas ! "it must,
When this good 'squire must stay at home,

And turn to antique dust ;

The solemn dirge, ye Owls, prepare,
Ye Bats, more hoarsly screek ;

Croak, all ye Ravens, round the bier,
And all ye Church-mice squeak.

The Rev.W. Cole says, " Browne Willis
had a most passionate regard for the
town of Buckingham, which he repre-
sented in Parliament one session, or part
of a session. This he showed on every
occasion, and particularly in endeavour-
ing to get a new charter for them, and to
get the bailiff changed into a mayor ; by
unwearied application in getting thr
issizes held once a year there, and pro-
curing the archdeacon to hold his visit-
ations, and also the bishop there, as
often as possible ; by promoting the
building of a jail in the town ; and, above
all, by procuring subscriptions, and him-
self liberally contributing, to the raising
the tower of the church 24 feet higher.
As he cultivated an interest opposite to
the Temple family, they were never upon
good terms ; and made verses upon each
other on their several foibles."

The same Mr. Cole, by way of
notes on the preceding poem, relates the
following anecdotes of Dr. Willis, which
are subjoined to it by Mr. Nichols.
"Mr. Willis never mentioned the adored
town of Buckingham without the addition
of county-town. His person and dress
were so singular, that, though a gentle-
man of 1000/. per annum, he has often
been taken for a beggar. An old leathern
girdle or belt, always surrounded the two
or three coats he wore, anil over them an
old blue cloak. He wrote the worst
hand of any man in England, such as
he could with difficulty read himself, and
what no one, except his old correspond-
ents, could decipher. His boots, which
he almost always appeared in, were not
the least singular part of his dress. I
suppose it will not be a falsity to say they
were forty years old, patched and vamped
up at various times. They are all in
wrinkles, and don't come up above half
way of his legs. He was often called in
the neighbourhood, Old Wrinkle Boots.
They are humorously historized in the
above poem. The chariot of Mr. Willis

301

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK MARCH t>.

302

was so singular, that from it he was called
nimself, The old Chariot. It was his
wedding chariot, and had nis arms on
orass plates about it, not unlike a coffin,
and painted black. He was as remark-
able probably for his love to the walls and
structures of churches, as for his variance
with the clergy in his neighbourhood. He
built, by subscription, the chapel at Fenny
Stratford ; repaired Bletchley church very
elegantly, at a great expense; repaired
Bow-Brickill church, desecrated and not
used for a century, and added greatly to
the height of Buckingham church tower.
He was not well pleased with any one,
who in talking of, or with him, did not
call him Squire. I wrote these notes
when I was out of humour with him for
some of his tricks. God rest his soul,
and forgive us all. Amen !" Cole and
Willis were friends. Our antiquary pre-
sented a living to Mr. Cole, who appears
to have been very useful to him as a
transcriber, seeker after dates, and col-
lector of odds and ends. In erudition,
discrimination, arrangement, and literary
powers, Cole was at an immense distance
from him. Dr. Wil'is's writing he calls
" the worst hand of any man in England."
This was not the fact. Cole's " hand"
was formal, and as plain as print ; it was
the only qualification he possessed over
Dr. Willis, whose writing is certainly pe-
culiar, and yet, where it seems difficult, is
readily decipherable by persons accus-
tomed to varieties of method, and is to
be read with ease by any one at all ac-
quainted with its uniform character.

On Dr. Willis's personal appearance,
Mr. Cole says, in a letter to Mr. Steevens,
" When I knew him first, about 35 years
ago, he had more the appearance of a
mumping beggar than of a gentleman ;
and the most like resemblance of his
figure that I can recollect among old
prints, is that of Old Hobson .the "Cam-
bridge carrier. He then, as always, was
dressed in an old slouched hat, more
brown than black, a weather-beaten large
wig, three or four old-fashioned coats, all
tied round by a leathern belt, and over all
an old blue cloak, lined with black fus-
tian, which he told me he had new made
when he was elected member for the
town of Buckingham about 1707." Cole
retained affection for his memory : he
adds " I have still by me as relics, this
cloak and belt, which I purchased of his

servant/' Cole's letter with this account
he consented that Mr. Steevens should
allow Mr. Nichols to use, adding that he
gave the permission " on a presumption,
that there was nothing disrespectful to
the memory of Mr. Willis, for what I
said I don't recollect." On this, Mr
Nichols remarks, " The disrespect was
certainly levelled at the mere external
foibles of the respectable antiquary, whose
goodness of heart, and general spirit ot
philanthropy were amply sufficient to
bear him out in those whimsical peculi-
arities of dress, which were irresistible
sources of ridicule."

Cole, however, may be suspected to
have somewhat exaggerated, when he so
generalized his description of Dr. Willis,
as to affirm that " he had more the ap-
pearance of a mumping beggar than of a
gentleman." Miss Talbot, of whom it
was said by the duchess of Somerset to
lady Luxborough, " she censures nobody,
she despises nobody, and whilst her own
life is a pattern of goodness, she does not
exclaim with bitterness against vice,"seems,
in her letter to the lady of quality before
cited, to have painted Dr. Willis to the
life. She says, " With one of the honest-
est hearts in the world, he has one of the
oddest heads that ever dropped out of
the moon. Extremely well versed in
coins, he knows hardly any thing of man-
kind, and you may judge what kind of
education such an one is likely to give to
four girls, who have had no female di-
rectress to polish their behaviour, or any
other habitation than a great rambling
mansion-house in a country village."

It must be allowed, notwithstanding,
to the credit of Mr. Cole, that she adds,
"He is the dirtiest creature in the world;"
but then, with such a character from the
.mouth of a fine lady, the sex and breed ing of
the affirmant must be taken into the ac-
count,especially as she assigns her reasons.
"It is quite disagreeable," she says, " to sit
by him at table : yet he makes one suit o
clothes serve him at least two years, and
then his great coat has been transmitted
down, I believe, from generation to gene-
ration, ever since Noah." Thus there may
be something on the score of want ot
fashion in her estimate.

Miss Talbot's account of Dr. Willis's
daughters is admirable. " Browne dis-
tinguishes his four daughters into the

303

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 6.

30-1

//on* and the lambs. The lambs are very
good and very insipid ; they were in town
about ten days, that ended the beginning
of last week ; and now the lions have suc-
ceeded them, who have a little spirit of
rebellion, that makes them infinitely more
agreeable than their sober sisters. The
lambs went to every church Browne pleased
every day ; the lions came to St. James's
church on St. Georges day, (which to
Browne was downright heresy, for reasons
just related.) The lambs thought of no
higher entertainment than going to see
some collections of shells ; the lions would
see every thing, and go every where.
The lambs dined here one day, were
thought good awkward girls, and then
were laid out of our thoughts for ever.
The lions dined with us on Sunday, and
were so extremely diverting, that we spent
all yesterday morning, and are engaged
to spend all this, in entertaining them,
and going to a comedy, that, I think, has
no ill-nature in it ; for the simplicity of
these girls has nothing blameable in it,
and the contemplation of such unassisted
nature is infinitely amusing. They follow
Miss Jenny's rule, of never being strange
in a strange place ; yet in them this is
not boldness." Miss Talbot says, she
could give " a thousand traits of the
lions," but she merely adds, " I won-
dered to have heard no remarks on the
prince and princess; their remarks
on every thing else are admirable. As
they sat in the drawing-room before din-
ner, one of them called to Mr. Seeker,
' I wish you would give me a glass of
sack !' The bishop of Oxford (Seeker)
came in, and one of them broke out very
abruptly, * Bui we heard every word of
the sermon where we sat ; and a very
good sermon it was,' added she, with a
decisive nod. The bishop of Gloucester
gave them tickets to go to a play ; and
ne of them took great pains to repeat to
Itim, till he heard it, ' I would not rob
you, but I know you are very rich, and
can afford it ; for I ben't covetous, indeed
1 an't covetous.' Poor giils ! their father
will make them go out of town to-morrow,
and they begged very hard that we would
all join in entreating him to let them stay
a fortnight, as their younger sisters have
done ; but all our entreaties were in vain,
and to-morrow the poor lions return to
their den in the stage-coach. Indeed, in
his birth-day tie-wig he looked so like
' the father' in the farce Mrs. Seeker
was so diverted with, that I wished a

thousand times for the invention of ScapiK
and I would have made no scruple of as-
suming the character, and inspiring my
friends with the laudable spirit of rebel-
lion. I have picked out some of the
dullest of their traits to tell you. They
pressed us extremely to come and break-
fast with them at their lodgings, four
inches square, in Chapel-street, at eight
o'clock in the morning, and bring a stay-
maker and the bishop of Gloucester with
us. We put off the engagement till eleven,
sent the stay-maker to measure them at
nine, and Mrs. Seeker and I went and
found the ladies quite undressed ; so that,
instead of taking them to Kensington
Gardens, as we promised, we were forced,
for want of time, to content ourselves
with carrying them round Grosvenor-
square into the Ring, where, for want of
better amusement, they were fain to fall
upon the basket of dirty sweetmeats and
cakes that an old woman is always teizing
you with there, which they had nearly
despatched in a couple of rounds. It
were endless to tell you all that has inex-
pressibly diverted me in their behaviour
and conversation."

Mr. Nichols contents himself with call-
ing Miss Talbot's letter " a very pleasant
one" it is delightfully pleasant : that its
description may not be received in an ill
sense, he carefully remarks, that " it
would be thought highly satirical in any
body else," but he roguishly affirms that
" Dr. Taylor could tell a thousand such
stories of Browne Willis and his family;''
and then he selects another. " In
the summer of 1740, after Mr. Baker's
death, his executor came to take posses-
sion of the effects, and lived for some time
in his chambers at college. Here Browne
Willis waited upon him to see some of the
MSS. or books ; and after a long visit, to
find and examine what he wanted, the old
bed-maker of the rooms came, in ; when
the gentleman said, ' What noise was that
I heard just as you opened the door?' (he
had heard the rustling of silk) 'Oh !' says
Browne Willis, * it is only one of my
daughters that I left on the staircase
This, we may suppose, was a lamb, by
her patient waiting ; else a lion would
have been better able to resist any petty
rudenesses.' " Afterwards we have ano-
ther " trait" of the same kind : " Once
after long teasing, the young ladies pre.
vailed on him to give them a London

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 6.

jaunt. ; unluckily the lodgings were (un-
known to tnem) at an undertaker's, the
irregular and late hours of whose business
was not very agreeable to the young
ladies: but they comforted themselves with
the thoughts of the pleasure they should
have during their stay in town ; when to
their great surprise and grief, as soon
as they had got their breakfast, the old
family coach rumbled to the door, and the
father bid them get in, as he had done the
business about which he came to town."
Poor girls !

The late Rev. John Kynaston, M. A.,
fellow of Brazen-nose college, who had
seen the preceding paragraphs, writes to
Mr. Nichols, " Your anecdotes of the lions
and the lambs have entertained me pro-
digiously, as I w'ell knew the grizzly sire
of both. Browne Willis was indeed an
original. I met with him at Mr. Cart-
wright's, at Aynhoe, in Northamptonshire,
in 1753, where I was at that time chap-
lain to the family, and curate of the parish.
Browne came here on a visit of a week
that summer. He looked for all the world
like an old portrait of the era of queen
Elizabeth, that had walked down out of
its frame. He was, too truly, the very
dirty figure Miss Talbot describes him to
be; which, with the antiquity of his dress,
rendered him infinitely formidable to all
the children in the parish. He often called
upon me at the parsonage house, when I
happened not to dine in the family ; hav-
ing a great, and as it seemed, a very
favourite point to carry, which was no less
than to persuade me to follow his example,
and to turn all my thoughts and studies
to venerable antiquity ; he deemed that
the summum ionwm, the height of all hu-
man felicity. I used to entertain Mr. and
Mrs. Cartwright highly, by detailing to
them Browne's arguments to debauch me
from the pursuit of polite literature, and
such studies as were most agreeable to
my turn and taste ; and by parcelling out
every morning after prayers (we had daily
prayers at eleven in the church) the pro-
gress Browne had made the day before in
the arts of seduction. I amused him with
such answers as I thought best suited to
his hobby-horse, till I found he was going
to leave us ; and then, by a stroke or two
of spirited raillery, lost his warm heart and
his advice for ever. My egging him on
served us, however, for a week's excellent
entertainment, amid the dulness and

sameness of a country situation. He re-
presented me at parting, to Mr. Cart-
wright, as one incorrigible, and lost be-
yond all hopes of recovery to every thing
truly valuable in learning, by having un-
fortunately let slip that I preferred, and
feared I ever should prefer, one page of
Livy or Tacitus, Sallust or Caesar, to all
the monkish writers, with Bede at the
head of them.

" quot sunt quotve fuerunt

Aut quotquot aliis erunt in annis.

Sic explicit Historiola de Brownio Willisio!"

An Itinerary of Browne Willis " in
search of the antique" must have been
excessively amusing. " Among the in-
numerable stories that are told of him, and
the difficulties and rebuffs he met with in
his favourite pursuits, the following may
suffice as a specimen : One day he de-
sired his neighbour, Mr. Lowndes, to go
with him to one of his tenants, whose old
habitation he wanted to view. A coach
driving into the farm-yard sufficiently
alarmed the family, who betook them-
selves to close quarters ; when Browne
Willis, spying a woman at a window,
thrust his head out of the coach, and cried
out, * Woman, I ask if you have got no
arms in your house." As the transaction
happened to be in the rebellion of 1 745,
when searches for arms were talked of, the
woman was still less pleased with her
visitor, and began to talk accordingly.
When Mr. Lowndes had enjoyed enough
of this absurdity, he said, * Neighbour, it
is rather cold sitting here; if you will let
me put my head out, I dare say we shall
do our business much better.' So the
late Dr. Newcome, going in his coach
through one of the villages near Cam-
bridge, and seeing an old mansion, called
out to an old woman, * Woman, is this a
religious house ? 1 1 don't know what
you mean by a religious house,' retorted
the woman ; ' but I believe the house is
as honest an house as any of yours at
Cambridge.' "

On another occasion, " Riding over
Mendip or Chedder, he came to a church
under the hill, the steeple just rising above
them, and near twenty acres of water be-
longing to Mr. Cox. He asked a country-
man the church's name ' Emburrough.'
When was it dedicated ?' < Talk Eng-
lish, or don't talk at all.' * When is the
ifivel or wake ?' The fellow thought, as
Miere was a match ut quarter-staff for a

307

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 6.

308

hat in the neighbourhood, he intended to
make one ; and, struck with his mean ap-
pearance besides, challenged him in a
rude way, and so they parted.' This
anomalous proposition must have been as
embarrassing as the situation presumed in
the play, ' Dr. Pangloss in a tandem,with
a terrier between his legs !' "

There is a very characteristic anecdote
of Browne Willis, and Humfrey Wanley,
a man of singular celebrity, and library
keeper to the literary earl of Oxfoid : it
js of Wanley's own relation in his Diary.
"Feb. 9, 1725-6. Mr. Browne Willis
came, wanting to peruse one of Holmes's
MSS. marked L, and did so ; and also
L 2, L 3, and L 4, without finding what
he expected. He would have explained
to me his design in his intended book
about our cathedrals ; but I said 1 was
about my lord's necessary business, and
had not leisure to spend upon any matter
foreign to that. He wanted the liberty
to look over Holmes's MSS. and indeed
over all this library, that he might collect
materials for amending his former books,
and putting forth new ones. I signified
to him that it would be too great a work ;
and that I, having business appointed me
by my lord, which required much de-
spatch, could not in such a case attend
upon him. He would have teazed me
here this whole afternoon, but I would
not suffer him. At length he departed in
great anger, and I hope to be rid of him."
It is reported of the lion, that he is
scared by the braying of the least noble of
the beasts.

The Rev. Mr. Gibberd performed the
" last offices" at the funeral of his friend
Dr. Willis, who parted from life " with-
out the usual agonies of death." This
gentleman says, " He breathed almost
his last with the most earnest and ardent
wishes for my prosperity : 'Ah ! Mr.
Gibberd, God bless you for ever, Mr.
Gibberd !' were almost the last words of
my dying friend." Mr. Gibberd's cha-
racter of him may close these notices.
" He was strictly religious, without any
mixture of superstition or enthusiasm.
The honour of God was his prime view
in almost every action of his life. He
was a constant frequenter of the church,
and never absented himself from the holy
communion ; and as to the reverence he

had for places more immediately set apart
for religious duties, it is needless to men-
tion what his many public works, in build-
ing, repairing, and beautifying churches,
are standing evidences of. In the time of
health he called his family together every
evening, and, besides his private devo-
tions in the morning, he always retired
into his closet in the afternoon at about
four or five o'clock. In his intercourse
with men, he was in every respect, as far
as I could judge, very upright. He was
a good landlord, and scarce ever raised
his rents ; and that his servants, likewise,
have no reason to complain of their mas-
ter, is evident from the long time they
generally lived with him. He had many
valuable and good friends, whose kind-
ness he always acknowledged. And
though, perhaps, he might have some
dispute, with a few people, the reason of
which it would be disagreeable to enter
into, yet it is with great satisfaction that
I can affirm that he was perfectly reconciled
with every one. He was, with regard to
himself, peculiarly sober and temperate ;
and he has often told me, that he denied
himself many things, that he might be-
stow them better. Indeed, he appeared
to me to have no greater regard to money
than as it furnished him with an oppor-
tunity of doing good. He supplied
yearly three charity schools at Whaddon,
Bletchley, and Fenny-Stratford : and be-
sides what he constantly gave at Christ-
mas, he was never backward in relieving
his poor neighbours with both wine and
money when they were sick, or in any
kind of distress." Thus, then, may end
the few memorials that have been thrown
together regarding an estimable though
eccentric gentleman " of the old school."
If he did not adorn society by his "man-
ners," he enriched our stores of know-
ledge, and posterity have justly conferred
on his memory a reputation for antiqua-
rian attainments which few can hope to
acquire, because few have the industry to
cultivate so thorough an intimacy with
the venerable objects of their acquaint-
ance.

An " antiquary" is usually alarming.
Those who are not acquainted with him
personally, imagine that he is necessarily
dull, tasteless, and passionless. Yet this
conception might be dissipated by refer-
ence to the memoirs of the eminent de-
parted, 01 by courting the society of tJ

309

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 6.

distinguished living. A citation in the
notice of Grose* tells us that

" society droops for the loss of his jest :
that antiquary's facetiousness enlivened
the dullest company, and with the con-
vivial he was the most jovial. Pennant's
numerous works bear internal evidence of
his pleasant mindedness. Jacob Bryant,
" famous for his extensive learning,
erudition," and profound investigations
concerning " Heathe'n Mythology," and
the situation and siege of " Troy," was
one of the mildest and most amiable
beings : his society was coveted by youth
and age, until the termination of his life,
in his eighty-ninth year. Among the
illustrious lovers of classic or black letter
lore, were the witty arid humorous George
Steevens, the editor of Shakspeare ; Dr.
Richard Farmer, the learned author of
the masterly " Essay on the Genius and
Learning of Shakspeare," is renowned
by the few who remember him for the
ease and variety of his conversation;
Samuel Paterson, the celebrated biblio-
polist, was full of anecdote and drollery ;
and the placid and intelligent Isaac Reed,
the discriminating editor of" the immortal
bard of Avon," graced every circle wherein
he moved. It might seem to assume an
intimacy which the editor of this work
does not pretend to, were he to mention
instances of social excellence among the
prying investigators of antiquity yet alive :
one, however, he cannot forbear to name
the venerable octogenarian John Nichols,
esq. F.S.A. of whom he only knows, in
common with all who have read or heard
of him, as an example of cheerfulness
and amenity during a life of unwearied
perseverance in antiquarian researches,
and the formation of multiform collections,
which have added more to general infor-
mation, and created a greater number of
inquirers on such subjects, than the united
labours of his early contemporaries.

Still it is not to be denied, that seclu-
sion, wholly employed on the founda-
tions of the dead, and the manners of
other times, has a tendency to unfit such
devotees for easy converse, when they
seek to recreate by adventuring into the
world. Early-acquired and long-con-
tinued severity of study, whether of the
learned languages, or antiquities, or sci-
ence, or nature, if it exclude other inti-
macies, is unfavourable to personal ap-

* Vol. i. p. 658.

310

pearance and estimation. The mere scho-
lar, the mere mathematician, and the mere
antiquary, easily obtain reputations foi
eccentricity ; but there are numerous in-
dividuals of profound abstraction, and
erudite inquiry, who cultivate the under-
standing, or the imagination, or the heart,
who are, in manner, so little different from
others, that they are scarcely suspected by
the unknown and the self-sufficient of
being better or wiser than themselves.
Hence, " in company," the individual
whom all the world agrees to look on as
" The Great Unknown," may be scarcely
thought of, as "The Antiquary" the
" President of the Royal Society" pass for
"quite a lady's man" andELiA be only
regarded as " a gentleman that loves a
joke !"

NATURE AND ART.

" Buy my images !"
" Art improves nature," is an old pro-
verb which our forefathers adopted with-
out reflection, and obstinately adhered to
as lovers of consistency. The capacity
and meshes of their brain were too small
to hold many great truths, but they caught
a great number of little errors, and this
was one. They bequeathed it to " their
children and their children's children,"
who inherited it till they threw away the
wisdom of their ancestors with their wigs;
left off hair powder; and are now leaving
off the sitting in hot club rooms, for the
sake of sleep, and exercise in the fresh
air. There seems to be a general insur-
rection against the unnatural improve-
ment of nature. We let ourselves and
our trees grow out of artificial forms, and
no longer sit in artificial arbours, with
entrances like that of the cavern at Black-
heath hill, or, as we may even still see
them, if we pay a last visit to the dying
beds of a few old tea-gardens. We
know more than those who lived before
us, and if we are not happier, we are on
the way to be so. Wisdom is happiness :
but " he that increaseth knowledge, in-
creaseth sorrow." Knowledge is not wis-
dom ; it is only the rough material of
wisdom. It must be shaped by reflection
and judgment, before it can be constructed
into an edifice fitting for the mind to
dwell in, and take up its rest. This, as
our old discourses used to say, " brings
us to our subject."

" Buy my images /" or, " Pye m'im-
aitches," was, and is, a ' London cry," by
Italian lads carrying boards on their hearts-,

311

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 6.

312

with plaster figures for sale. " In my
time," one of these " images" (it usually
occupied a corner of the board) was a
Polly"

A lengthened mass became by colourable
show, " a dog" like ingenuity might
have tortured it into a devil. The feline
race were of two shapes and in three
sizes ; the middle one like physic in a
bottle, " when taken, to be well shaken,"
moved its chalk head, to the wonder and
delight of all urchins, until they informed
themselves of its " springs of action," at
the price of " only a penny," and, by
breaking it, discovered that the nodding
knob achieved its un-cat-like motion, by
being hung with a piece of wire to the
interior of its hollow body. The lesser
cat was not so very small, considering its
price a farthing :" I speak of when
battered button tops represented that
plentiful " coin of the realm." Then
there was the largest

3 parrot

This representative of the most " po-
pular" of " all the winged inhabitants of
air," might have been taken for the like-
ness of some species between an owl and
the booby-bird ; but then the wings and
back were coloured with a lively green,
and the under part had yellow streaks,
and the beak was of a red colour, and
any colour did for the eyes, if they were
larger than they ought to have been. " In
my time" too, there was an " image" of a
" fine bow pot," consisting of half a
dozen green shapes like halbert tops for
" make believe" leaves, spreading like a
half opened fan, from a knot " that was
not," inasmuch as it was delicately con-
cealed by a tawny coloured ball called an
orange, which pretended to rest on a
clumsy clump of yellowed plaster as on
the mouth of a jar the whole looking as
unlike a nosegay in water as possible.
Then, too, there was a sort of obelisk
with irregular projections and curves ;
the top, being smaller than the bottom,
was marked out with paint into a sort of
face, and, by the device of divers colours, it
was bonnetted, armed, waisted, and pet-
ticoated this was called a " fine lady."

Cat.

The present representation favours the
image too much. Neither this engraving,
nor that of the " parrot," is sufficiently
like the artist says he " could not draw it
bad enough :" what an abominable defi-
ciency is the want of " an eye" heigho!
Then there were so many things, that were
not likenesses of any thing of which they
were " images," and so many years and
cares have rolled over my head and heart,
that I have not recollection or time enough
for their description. They are all gone,
or going " going out" or " gone out '*
for ever ! Personal remembrance is the

313

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 6.

314

frail and only memorial of the existence
of some of these " ornaments" of the
humble abodes of former times.

The masterpieces on the board of the
" image-man," were " a pair," at that
time " matchless." They linger yet, at
the extreme corners of a few mantle-
pieces, with probably a " sampler" be-
tween, and, over that, a couple of feathers
from Juno's bird, gracefully adjusted
into a St. Andrew's cross their two gor-
geous eyes giving out " beautiful colours,"
to the beautiful eyes of innocent children.
The ' images,'* 1 spoken of as still in being,
are of the colossal height of eighteen
inches, more or less : they personate the
" human form divine," and were designed,
perhaps, by Hayman, but their moulds
are so worn that the casts are unfeatured,
and they barely retain their bodily sem-
blance. They are always painted black,
save that a scroll on each, which depends
from a kind of altar, is left white. One
of Jhe inscriptions says,

"Into the heaven of heavens I have pre-
sumed, &c."

and all, except the owners, admire the
presumption. The " effigy" looks as if the
man had been up the chimney, and, in-
stead of having " drawn empyrean air,"
had taken a glass too much of Hodges's
" Imperial," and wrapped himself in the
soot-bag to conceal his indulgence and his
person this is " Milton." The other, in
like sables, points to his inscription, be-
ginning,

" The cloud-capt towers, the gorgeous
palaces, &c."

is an "insubstantial pageant" of "the

anmortal Shakspeare,"

" cheated of feature by dissembling nature,"

through the operation of time.

" Such were the forms that o'er th* incrusted

souls
Of our forefathers scatter 'd/ond delight."

Price, and Alison, and Knight, have
generalized " taste" for high-life; while
those of the larger circle have acquired
" taste " from manifold representations
and vehicles of instruction, and compre-
hend the outlines, if they do not take in
the details of natural objects. This is
manifested by the almost universal disuse
of the " images " described. With the
inhabitants of every district in the me-
tropolis, agreeable forms are now abso-
lute requisites, and the demand has in-
duced their supply. There are, perhaps,
as many casts from the Medicean Venus,
Apollo Belvidere, Antinous, the Gladia-
tor, and other beauties of ancient sculpture,
within the parish of St. George, in the
East, as in the parish of St. George, Han-
over-square. They are reposited over the
fire-places, or on the tables, of neighbour-
hoods, wherein the uncouth cat, and the
barbarous parrot were, even " in my time,"
desirable " images." The moulds of
the greater number of these deformities,
are probably destroyed. It was with
difficulty that the "cat" could be ob-
tained for the preceding column, and an
" image" of the u parrot" was not pro-
curable from an " image-man." Inven-
tion has been resorted to for the gratifica-
tion of popular desire : two plaster casts
of children, published in the autumn of
1825, have met with unparalleled sale.
To record the period of their origin they
are represented in the annexed engraving,
and, perhaps, they may be so perpetuated
when the casts themselves shall have dis-
appeared, in favour of others more ele-
gant.

The " common people" have become uncommon ;

A few remain, just here and there, the rest
Are polish'd and refined : child, man, and woman,

All, imitate the manners of the best ;
Picking up, sometimes, good things from their betters,

As they have done from them. Then they have books ;
As 'twas design'd they should, when taught their letters ;

And nature's self befriends their very looks :
And all this must, and all this ought to be

Tlie only use of eyes, I know of, is to see.

SI 5

THE LVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 6.

?RS^

Street

m 1826.

Height of each 16 incl"?s and a half.

When these agreeable figures first ap-
peared, the price obtained for them was
four shillings. As the sale slackened they
were sold for three shillings; now, in
March, 1826, the pair may be bought
for two shillings, or eighteen pence.
The consequence of this cheapness is,
that there is scarcely a house without
them.

There can be no doubt that society
is improving in every direction. As I
hinted before, we have a great deal to
learn, and something to unlearn. It is in
many respects untrue, that " art improves
nature ;" while in.many important respects
it is certain, that " nature improves art."

The Brothers.
There a.e things in nature

wh'ch

the human voice can scarcely trust
itself to relate ; which art never can
represent, and the pen can only feebly de-
scribe. Such a scene occurred at Lyons,
in the year 1794.

The place of confinement to which those
were hurried,who had been condemned to
suffer by the revolutionary tribunal, was
called "the Cave of Death." A boy not fif-
teen years of age was sent thither. He had
been one of the foremost in a sortie made
during the siege, and for this was doomed
to perish. His little brother, scarcely six
years old, who had been accustomed to
visit him at his former prison, no longer
finding him there, came and called at the
iron grate of the vault. His brother heard
him, and came to the grate : the pooi
infant passed his little hands between
the vast bars to embrace him, while the

317

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 7.

31ft

elder raising himself on the points of his
feet could just reach to kiss them. " My
dear brother," said the child, " arl thou
going to die, and shall I see thee no
more ? why didn't you, tell them that you
are not yet fifteen?" "I did, brother, I
said all that I could say, but they would
hear nothing. Carry a kiss to my
mother, and try to comfort her ; nothing
grieves me but that I leave her ill ; but
don't tell her yet, that I am going to die."
The child was drowned in tears, his little

heart seemed ready to burst : " Good-
by, brother," he repeated again and
again ; " but I'm afraid you didn't say
that you are not yet fifteen." He was at
length so suffocated with sobs that he
could speak no more, and went away.
Every one who passed by, seeing his dis-
tress, asked him what was the matter.
" Tis the wicked men that make me
cry," said he ; " they are going to kill
my brother who is so good, and who is
not yet fifteen."

With any being of a human form,

Who, reading such a narrative as this

Could be unshaken to the inmost soul,

I would not share a roof, nor sit, nor stand,

Nor converse hold, by word, or look, or pen.

Well, Reader ! thou hast read hast thou no tears !

If thou wert stranger to the tale till now,

And weep'st not go ! I dare not, will not, know thee

Thy manner may be gentle, but thy heart

Is ripe for cruelty Go hence, I say !

The Season.

The earth has now several productions
for our gratification, if we stoop to gather
and examine them. Young botanists
should commence their inquiries before

the season pours in its abundance. They
who are admirers of natural beauties, may
daily discover objects of delightful regard
in the little peeping plants which escape
the eye, unless their first appearance is
narrowly looked for.

The Primrose.
Welcome, pale Primrose ! starting up between

Dead matted leaves of ash and oak, that strew

The every lawn, the wood, and spinney through,
'Mid creeping moss and ivy's darker green ;

How much thy presence beautifies the ground :
How sweet thy modest, unaffected pride
Glows on the sunny bank, and wood's warm side.

And when thy fairy flowers, in groups, are found,
The schoolboy roams enchantedly along,

Plucking the fairest with a rude delight :
While the meek shepherd stops his simple song,

To gaze a moment on the pleasing sight ;
O'erjoy'd to see the flowers that truly bring
The welcome news of sweet returning spring !

Clare.

It is remarked by the lady of the
" Flora Domestica," that " this little
flower, in itself so fair, shows yet fairer
from the early season of its appearance ;
peeping forth even from the retreating
snows of winter : it forms a happy shade
of union between the delicate snowdrop
and the flaming crocus, which also ven-
ture forth in the very dawn of spring."
The elegant authoress observes further:
" There are many varieties of the prim-

rose, so called, (the polyanthus and auri-
cular, though bearing other names, are
likewise varieties,) but the most common
are the sulphur-coloured and the lilac.
The lilac primrose does not equal the
other in beauty : we do not often find it
wild ; it is chiefly known to us as a gar-
den-flower. It is indeed the sulphur-
coloured primrose which we particularly
understand by that name : it is the prim-
rose : it is this which we associate with

319 THE EVBRY-DAY BOOK .MARCH 8. 320

the cowslips and the meadows : it is this without recurring to something that has
which shines like an earth-star from the an interest in our hearts ; such are the
grass by the brook side, lighting the hand primrose, the cowslip, the May-flower,
to pluck it. We do indeed give the name the daisy, &c. &c. The poets have not
of primrose to the lilac flower, but we do neglected to pay due honours to this
this in courtesy : we feel that it is not the sweet spring-flower, which unites in
primrose of our youth ; not the primrose itself such delicacy of form, colour,
with which we have played at bo-peep and fragrance ; they give it a forlorn
in the woods ; not the irresistible prim- and pensive character. The poems ot
rose which has so often lured our young Clare are as thickly strewn with prim-
feet into the wet grass, and procured us roses as the woods themselves ; the two
coughs and chid ings. There is a senti- following passages are from " The Village
ment in flowers: there are flowers we Minstrel."
cannot look upon, or even hear named,

" O, who can speak his joys when spring's young morn

From wood and pasture opened on his view,

When tender green buds blush upon the thorn,

And the first primrose dips its leaves in dew

" And while he pluck'd the primrose in its pride,

He ponder'd o'er its bloom 'twixt joy and pain ;
And a rude sonnet in its praise he tried,

Where nature's simple way the aid of art supplied."

the fresh and open air, which never

NATURALISTS CALENDAR. comes to town> Residents in cities,

Mean Temperature ... 39 54. therefore, must seek it at some distance

.^ v o from their abodes ; and those who cannot,

^TlHrtl) O. may derive some pleasure from a sonnet,

At this season there is a sweetness in by the rural bard quoted just now.

Approach of Spring.
Sweet are the omens of approaching Spring

When gay the elder sprouts her winged leaves
When tootling robins carol-welcomes sing,

And sparrows chelp glad tidings from the eaves.
What lovely prospects wait each wakening hour,

When each new day some novelty displays,
How sweet the sun-beam melts the crocus flower,

Whose borrowed pride shines dizen'd in his rays :
Sweet, new-laid hedges flush their tender greens :
Sweet peep the arum-leaves their shelter screens :

Ah ! sweet is all that I'm denied to share :
Want's painful hindrance sticks me to her stall ;

But still Hope's smiles unpoint the thorns of Care
Since Heaven's eternal spring is free from all ! Clare.

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature ... 40 05

321

THE EVERY-DAY 'BOOK. MARCH 0.

322

ffATURAtlSTS' CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature ... 40 15.

THE ELEPHANT,

fce laflj fceaJi at e^ter

In the 'position he liked best
'He seem'd to drop, to sudden rest ;
NOT bow'd his neck, but still a sense
Retain'd of his magnificence ;
For, as he fell, he raised his head
And held it, as in life, when dead.

VISIT TO MR. CROSS; PROPRIETOR OF THE ELEPHANT.

The most remarkable incident in the
metropolis, since "the panic'' in the
neighbourhood of the Royal Exchange,
in January, 1826, was the death of the
celebrated elephant at Exeter Change., .in
March of the same year; not that it is
attempted to insinuate comparison be-
tween these events, as to their nature or con-
sequences, but it may fairly be observed,

VOL. TL 63.

that each produced what is commonly
called " a sensation " in town and coun-
try, and that each originated in peculiar
excitement.

Wishing to record the death of the
elephant in this work, and to relate only
what is true, I resorted to Mr. Cross,
whose menagerie has sustained a bereave
ment that can only be supplied, if it -ever

325

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 9.

3'24

can be supplied, at a vast expense, and
after a long lapse of time. On explaining
my wish and purpose, Mr. Cross readily
assented to furnish me with the informa-
tion I desired, and communicated the fol-
lowing particulars. I committed them to
paper during my interviews, and after
digesting them into order, submitted the
whole to his revision. Except as to mere
language and occasional illustrations, the
narrative is, in fact, the narrative of Mr.
Cross. It differs in many essential re-
spects from other accounts, but it only so
differs, because every statement is accu-
rately related from Mr. Cross's lips. Cir-
cumstances which occurred during his
temporary absence at the critical moment,
were supplied to me in his presence
by Mr. Tyler, the gentleman who
arranged and cooperated with Mr. Her-
ring, during the exigency that rendered
the destruction of the elephant imperative.

The first owner of the lordly animal,
now no more, was Mr. Harris, pro-
prietor of Covent-garden theatre. He
purchased it in July, 1810, for nine hun-
dred guineas on its arrival in England,
aboard the Astel, Captain Hay, and the
elephant "came out as a public per-
former the same year, in the procession
of a grand pantomime, called " Harle-
quin Padmanaba." Mrs. Henry John-
stone was his graceful rider, and he was
" played up to " by the celebrated colum-
bine, Mrs. Parker, whose husband had a
joint interest with Mr. Harris in the new
performer. During his " engagement" at
this theatre, Mr. Polito " signed articles"
with Messrs. Harris and Parker for his
further "appearance in public" at the
Royal Menagerie, Exeter Change. On
the death of Mr. Polito, in 1814, Mr.
Cross, who for twenty years had been
superintendent of the concern, became
its purchaser, and the elephant, thus
transferred, remained with Mr. Cross till
the termination of his life. From
his " last farewell " to the public at
Covent-garden theatre, he was stationary
at the menagerie, from whence he was
never removed, and, consequently, he was
never exhibited at any other place.

On the elephant's first arrival from In-
dia he had two keepers ; these accompa-
nied him to Exeter Change, and to their
controul he implicitly submitted, until the
death of one of them, within the first year
after Mr. Cross's proprietorship, when the
animal's increasing bulk and strength
rendered it necessary to enlarge his den,

or rather to construct a new one. The
bars of the old one were not thicker than
a man's arm. With Mr. Harrison, the
carpenter, who built his new den, and
with whom he had formed a previous in-
timacy, he was remarkably docile, and
accommodated himself to his wishes in
every respect. He was occasionally
troublesome to his builder from love of
play, but the prick of a gimblet was an
intimation he obeyed, till a desire for
fresh frolic prompted him to further inter-
ference, and then a renewal of the hint,
or some trifling eatable from the carpen-
ter's pocket, abated the interruption. In
this way they went on together till the
work was completed, and while the ele-
phant retained his senses, he was happy
in every opportunity that afforded him the
society of his friend Harrison. The den
thus erected will be particularized pre-
sently : it was that wherein he remained
till his death.

About six years ago this elephant indi-
cated an excitement which is natural to
the species', and which prevails every year
for a short season. At the period now
spoken of, his keeper having gone into
his den to exhibit him, the animal refused
obedience ; on striking him with a slight
cane, as usual, the elephant violently
threw him down : another keeper seeing
the danger, tossed a pitchfork to his com-
rade, which the animal threw aside like
a straw. A person then .ran to alarm
Mr. Cross, who hurried down stairs, and
catching up a shovel, struck the animal
violently on the head, and suddenly seiz-
ing the prostrated man, dragged him from
the den, and saved his life.

This was the first appearance of those
annual paroxysms, wherein the elephant,
whether wild or confined, becomes in-
furiated. At such a period it is custom-
ary in India to liberate the elephants and
let them run to the forests, whence, on
the conclusion of the fit, they usually re-
turn to their wonted subjection. Such
an experiment being impossible with Mr.
Cross, he resorted to pharmacy, and, in
the course of fifty-two hours, succeed-
ed in deceiving his patient into the
taking of twenty-four pounds of salts,
twenty-four pounds of treacle, six ounces
of calomel, an ounce and a half of tartar
emetic, and six drams' of powder of gam-
boge. To this he added a bottle of
croton oil, the most potent cathartic per-
haps in existence ; of this, a full dram
was administered, which alone is suffi-

325

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 9.

326

cient for at least sixty full doses to thjQ
human being; yet, though united with the
preceding enormous quantity of other
medicine, it operated no apparent effect.
At this juncture Mr. Nylew, a native
East Indian, and a man of talent, sug-
gested to Mr. Cross the administration of
animal oil, as a medicine of efficacy.
Six pounds of marrow from beef bones
were accordingly placed within his reach,
as if it had been left by accident ; the
liquorish beast, who would probably have
refused it had it been tendered him an
his food, swallowed the bait. The resiilt
justified Mr. Nyleve's prediction. To
my inquiry whether the marrow had not
accelerated an operation which would
have succeeded the previous administra-
tion, Mr. Cross answered, that he believed
the beef marrow was the really active
medicine, because, after an interval of
three weeks, he gave the same quantity
wholly unaccompanied, and the same
aperient effect followed. He never, how-
ever, could repeat the experiment ; for
the elephant in successive .years wholly
refused the marrow, however attempted
to be disguised, or with whatever it was
mixed.

In subsequent years, during these pe-
riods of excitement, the paroxysms suc-
cessively increased in duration ; but
there was no increase of violence until
the present year, when the symptoms be-
came more alarming, and medicine pro-
duced no diminution of the animal's
heightened rage. On Sunday, (the 26th
of February,) a quarter of a pound of cal-
omel was given to him in gruel. Three
grains of this is a dose for a man ; and
though the entire quantity given to the
elephant was more than equal to six hun-
dred of those doses, it failed of pro-
ducing in him any other effect than ex-
treme suspicion of any food that was
tendered to him, if it at all varied in ap-
pearance from what he was accustomed
to at other times. On Monday morning
some warm ale was offered him in a
bucket, for the purpose of assisting the
operation of the calomel, but he would
not touch it till Cartmell, his keeper,
drank a portion of the liquor himself,
when he readily took it. The fluid did
not appear to accelerate the wished-for
object ; and, in fact, the calomel wholly
failed to operate. Though in a state of
constant irritation, he remained tolerably
quiet throughout Monday and Tuesday,
until Wednesday, the 1st of March, when

additional medicine became necessary,
and Mrs, -Cross conceived the thought of
giving it to him through some person
whom the elephant had not seen, .and
whom therefore he might regard as a
casual visiter, and not suspect. To a
certain extent the feint succeeded. She
sent some buns to him by a strange lad,
in one of which a quantity of calomel
had been introduced. He ate each bun
from the boy's hand till that with the
calomel was presented; instead of .con-
veying it to his mouth, he instantly
dropped the bun, and crushed it with his
foot. In this way he was accustomed tc
treat every thing of food that he disliked.
It was always considered that the ele-
phant's den was of sufficient strength and
magnitude to accommodate, and be proof
against any attack he was able to direct
against it, even in his most violent displea-
sure. In the course of the four preceding
years the front had sustained many hundred
of his powerful lounges, without any part
having been substantially injured, or the
smallest ; portion displaced, or rendered
rickety in -the slightest degree; but on this
morning, (Wednesday,) about ten o?clock,
he made a tremendous rush at the front,
wholly unexcited by provocation, and
broke the tenon, 01 square end at the top
of the hinge story-post, to which the gates
are hung, from its socket or mortise in
the massive cross beam above; and, con-
sequently, the strong iron clamped gates
which had hitherto resisted his many
furious attacks upon them, lost their secu-
rity. Mr. Cross was then absent from the
menagerie, and, in the urgency .of tin
moment, his friend Mr. Tyler, a -gentle-
man "of great coolness and faculty of ar-
rangement, gave orders for. a strong massy
piece of timber to be placed in front of
his den, as a temporary fixture against
the broken story-post ; and offered every
thing 'he could think of to pamper, and,
:if possible, to allay the animal's fury. .On
Mr. Cross's arrival he rightly judged, that
another such lounge would prostrate the
gates ; and, as it was known that Mr.
Harrison, the carpenter of the den, who
formerly possessed great influence over
him, had now lost all power of controul-
ing him, it was morally certain, that
if any other person's attempted to re-
pair the mischief in an effectual way,
their lives -would be forfeited. Mr.
Cross, under these circumstances of
imminent danger, instantly determined
to destroy the elephant with all pos-

327

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 9.

32*

sible despatch, as the only measure he
could possibly adopt for his own safety
and the safety of the public. Having
formed his resolution, he went without
a moment's delay to Mr. Gifford, chemist
in the Strand, and requested to be sup-
plied with a potent poison, destitute if
possible of taste or smell. Mr. Gifford,
sensible of the serious consequences to
Mr. Cross in a pecuniary point of view,
entreated him to reflect still further, and
not to commit an act of which he might
hereafter repent. Mr. Cross assured him
that whatever irritation he might mani-
fest, proceeded from his own feelings of
regard towards the elephant, heightened
by a sense of the loss that would ensue
upon his purpose being effected ^
adding, that he had a firm conviction that
unless the animal's death was immediate-
ly accomplished, loss of human life must
ensue. Mr. Gifford replied, that he had
never seen or complied more reluctantly
with his wish on any occasion, and he
gave 'him four ounces of arsenic.
Mr. Cross declares that on his way
back, the conflict of his feelings was so
great at that moment, that he imagines no
person comtemplating murder could ten-
el u re greater agony. The arsenic was
mixed with oats, and a quantity of sugar
being added by way of inducement, it was
offered to the elephant as his ordinary
meal by his keeper. The sagacious
animal wholly refused to touch it.

His eyes now glared like lenses <of glass
reflecting a red and burning light.
In order to soothe him, some oranges, to
which fruit he had great liking, were re-
peatedly proffered ; but though these were
in a pure state, he took them, one after
the other, as they were presented to him.,
and dropping each on the floor of his den
instantly squelched it with his foot, and
having thus disposed of a few he refused
to take another. This utter rejection of
food, with amazing increase of fury,
heightened Mr. Cross's alarm. He again
went out, and in great agitation procured
half an ounce of corrosive sublimate to
be mixed in a quantity of conserve of
roses, securely tied in a bladder, to
prevent, if possible, any scent from the
poison, and with some hope that if the
animal detected any effluvia through the
air-tight skin it would be the odour of
roses and sugar, which were substances
peculiarly grateful to him. The elephant
was accustomed to swallow several
things lying about within reach of his

proboscis, which, if tendered to him, he
would have refused ; and this habit sug-
gesting the possibility that he might sc
dispose of this, which, it was quite cer-
tain, if presented would have been re
jected, the ball was placed so that he
might find it ; but the instant he perceived
it he seemed to detect the purpose,; he
hastily seized it, and as hastily letting it
fall, violently smashed it with his foot.

The peril was becoming greater every
minute. The elephant's weight was up-
wards of five tons, and from such an ani-
mal's excessive rage, in a place of inse-
cure confinement, the most terrible con-
sequences were to be feared. Mr. Cross
therefore intrusted his friend, Mr. Tyler,
to direct and assist the endeavours of the
keepers for the controul of the infuriated
beast. He .then despatched a messenger
to his brother-in-law, Mr. Herring, in the
New Road, Paddington, a man of deter-
mined resolution, and an excellent shot,
stating the danger, and requesting him to
come to the menagirie. As he arrived
without arms, they went together to Mr.
Stevens, gunsmith, in High Holborn, for
rifles. On their way to him they called
at Surgeons-hall, Lincoln's-Inn Fields,
where they hoped to see the skeleton of
an elephant, in order to form a judgment
of -the places through which the shots
would be likeliest to reach the vital parts.
In this they were disappointed, the college
of surgeons not having the skeleton of
the animal in its collection 4 but Mr.
Clift, who politely received them, commu-
nicated what information he possessed ou
the subject. Mr. Stevens lent him three
rifles, and at his house Mr. Cross left
Mr. Herring to get the pieces ready,
after instructing him to cooperate with
Mr. Tyler, in attempting the destruction
of the animal, if it should be absolutely
necessary before he returned himself.
From thence Mr. Cross hastened to Great
Marlborough-street, for the advice of Mr.
Joshua Brookes, the eminent anatomist.
He found that gentleman in his theatre,
delivering a public lecture. Sense of
danger deprived Mr. Cross of the atten-
tions due to time and place under ordi-
nary circumstances, and he immediately
addressed Mr. Brookes; "Sir, a word
with you, if you please, immediately
I have not an instant to lose." ME
Brookes concluded his lecture directly
and knowing Mr. Cross would not have
intruded upon him except from extreme
urgency, withdrew with him, and gave

329

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 9.

330

him such instructions as the case seemed
to require. Mr. Cross, accompanied by
one of Mr. Brookes's pupils, hastened
homeward. They were met near the me-
nagerie by Mr. Tyler, who entreated Mr.
Cross to run to Somerset-house and ob-
tain military assistance from that place,
for that they had been compelled to use
the rifles in their own defence, and had
put a number of shot in him without
being able to get him down. Mr.
Brookes's pupil accompanied Mr. Tyler,
to assist him, if possible, while Mr. Cross
rapidly proceeded to Somerset-house,
where he found a sentry on duty, who
did not dare to quit his post, and referred
him to the guard -room, where there
were only two other privates and a cor-
poral, who, at first, declared his utter in-
ability to lend him either men or arms ;
but on the earnest entreaties of Mr. Cross
for aid, and his repeated representations,
that he would be responsible in purse and
person, and compensate any conse-
quences that could be incurred by a di-
reliction from the formalities of military
duty on so pressing an occasion, the
corporal relented, and, w-ith one of the
privates, hastened to the menagerie.

Mr. Cross now met Herring, of the
public offioe, Bow-street, to whom he
eomimmieated the situation of affairs at
Exeter Change, and requested his assist-
ance in obtaining arms. Herring sug-
gested an application to Bow-street for
that purpose. It appears that from acci-
dent they were not' procurable there, and
deeming it possible that they might be
got at sir W. Congreve's office, Mr.
Cross ran thither, where he was also dis-
appointed. Mr. Brooks, glassman of the
Strand, informed Mr. Cross there were
small arms in the neighbourhood of So-
merset-house ; these, on returning to that
place, were discovered to be old howit-
zers, and, therefore, useless. From thence
he went on board the police-ship stationed
on- the Thames, near Waterloo-bridge,
expecting to find swivels, and was again
disappointed ; being informed, however,
hat swivels were fired during civic pro-
^essions from Hawes's soarp manufactory,
on the Surrey side of the river, near
Blackfriars-bridge, he rowed over and
obtained a swivel, with a few balls, and the
{eadof a poker, and the assistance of one
f Mr. Hawes's men. The use for either,
lowever, eeased to exist ; for they arrived
at the menagerie within a few minutes
the conclusion of such a scene as

had never been exhibited in that place
nor, probably, in any other in this coun,
try. The elephant was dead.

To describe the proceedings of Exete
Change, from the time of Mr. Cross'
leaving it, it is necessary to recur to tb
period of Mr. Herring's appearance thi-
ther, on his return from Mr. Stevens's, in
Holborn, with the three rifles, and one or
Mr. Stevens's assistants. He found that
the violence of the elephant had increased
every minute from the period of his de-
parture with Mr. Cross, and that at great
personal hazard Mr. Tyler, with Cartmell
and Newsam, and the other keepers, had
prevented him from breaking down the
front of the den.

The keepers faced him with long pikes
or spears, to deter him as much as possi-
ble from efforts to liberate himself from
the confinement, which at ordinary pe-
riods he had submitted to without re-
straint. When he lounged furiously at
the bars, they assailed him with great
bravery, and their threats and menaces
prevented the frequency of his attacks. In
this state of affairs Mr. Herring concurred
with Mr. Tyler, that to wait longer for
Mr. Cross would endanger the existence
of every person present ; and having com-
municated the fact to Mrs. Cross, who
had the highest regard for the animal
from his ordinary docility, she was con-
vinced, by their representations, that hi*>
death must be accomplished immediately,
and therefore assented to it.

For the information of persons not ac-
quainted with the menagerie,, it is neces-
sary to state that it occupies the entire
range of the floor above Exeter Change,
the lower part of which edifice withinside
is occupied by shops belonging to Mr.
Clarke. This part of the building, on
the business of the day being concluded,
is closed every night by the strong folding
gates at each end, which, when open,
allow a free passage to the public through
the Change. It will be perceived, there-
fore, that the flooring above is Mr. Cross's
menagerie, or, at least, that very import-
ant part of it which is allotted to his
matchless collection of quadrupeds. A large
arrangement of other animals is in other
apartments, on a higher story. Nero, not
Wombwell's Nero, which was baited by
that showman at Warwick, but a lion not
only in eveiy respect finer than his name-
sake, and, in short, the noblest of hi.s
noble species in England, occupies a den
in the menagerie over the western door of

331

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 9s,

332

the Change. Other lions and animals
are properly secured in their places of
exhibition, on each side of the room,
and the east end is' wholly occupied by
the den of the elephant ; its floor being
supported by a foundation of brick and
timber more than adequate to the amazing
weight of the animal. The requisite
strength and construction of this flooring
necessarily raise it nearly two feet from
the flooring of the other part of the men-
agerie, which, though amazingly stable,
and capable of bearing any other beast
in perfect safety, would have immediately
given way beneath the tread of the ele-
phant ; and had he forced his den he
must have fallen through.

As soon, therefore, as his sudden death
was resolved on, Mr. Tyler went down to
Mr. Clarke, and acquainting him with the
danger arising out of the immediate ne-
cessity, suggested the instant removal
of every person from the Change below,
and the closing of the Change gates. Mr.
Clarke, and all belonging to his establish-
ment, saw the propriety of their speedy
departure, and in a few minutes the gates
were barred and locked. By the adop-
tion of these precautions, if the elephant
had broken down the floor no lives
would have been lost, although much va-
luable property would have been destroy-
ed ; and, in the event contemplated, the
animal himself would have been confined
within the basement. Still, however, a
sJight exertion of his enormous strength
could have forced the gates. If he had
made his entry into the Strand, it is im-
possible to conjecture the mischief that
might have ensued in that crowded
thoroughfare, from his infuriated passion.

On Mr. Tyler's return up stairs from
Mr. Clarke, it was evident from the ele-
phant's extreme rage, that not a moment
was to be lost. Three rifles therefore
were immediately loaded, and Mr. Her-
ring, accompanied by Mr. Stevens's assist-
ant entered the menagerie, each with a
rifle, and took their stations for the pur-
pose of firing. Mr. Tyler pointed out to
the keepers the window places, and such
recesses as they might fly to if the ele-
phant broke through, and enjoining each
man to select a particular spot as his own
exclusive retreat, concluded by showing
the danger of any two of them running to
the same place for shelter. The keepers
with their pikes, placed themselves in the
rear of Mr. Herring and his assistant,who
stood immediately opposite the den, at

about the distance of twelve feet in the
front. Mr. Herring requested Cartmell
to call in his usual tone to the elephant
when he exhibited him to visiters, on
which occasions the animal was accus-
tomed to face his friends with the hope of
receiving something from their hands.
CartmelFs cry of " Chunee ! Chunee ! Chu-
neelah!" in his exhibiting tone, produced
a somewhat favourable posture for
his enemies, and he instantly received two
bullets aimed from the rifles towards the
heart ; they entered immediately behind
the shoulder blade, at the distance of
about three inches from each other. The
moment the balls had perforated his body
he made a fierce and heavy rush at the
front, which further weakened the gates,
shivered the side bar next to the dislodged
story-post, and drove it out into the me-
nagerie. The fury of the animal's as-
sault was* terrific, the crash of the timbers,
the hallooing of the keepers in their re-
treat, the calls for " rifles ! rifles I" and
the confusion and noise incident to the
scene, rendered it indescribably terrific.
The assailants rallied in a few seconds,
and came pointing their spears with
threats. Mr. Tyler having handed two
other rifles, they were discharged as before ;
and, as before, produced a similar des-
perate lounge from the enraged beast at
the front of his den. Had it been effect-
ive, and he had descended on the floor,
his weight must have inevitably carried
it, together with himself, his assailants,
and the greater part of the lions, and other
animals, into the Change below, and by
possibility have buried the entire mena-
gerie in ruins. " Rifles ! rifles !" were
again called for, and from this awful cri-
sis it was only in the power of Mr. Tyler
and some persons outside, to load quick
enough for the discharge of one rifle at
a time. The maddened animal turned
round in his den incessantly, apparently
with the design of keeping his head from
the riflemen, who after the first two dis-
charges could only obtain single shots at
him. The shutter inside of a small grated
window, which stood in a projection into
the den, at one of the back corners, was
now unshipped, and from this position Mr.
Herring fired several shots through the
grating. The elephant thus attacked in
the rear as well as the front, flew round
the den with the speed of a race-horse,
uttering frightful yells and screams, and
stopping at intervals to bound from the
back against the front. The force of these

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334

rushes shook the entire building, and ex- deavoured to conceal his head by keeping
cited the most terrifying expectation that his rear to the front ; and lest he should
he would bring down the entire mass of either make a successful effort at the gate,

wood and iron-work, and project himself
among his assailants.

After the discharge of about thirty
balls, he stooped and sunk deliberately on
his haunches. Mr. Herring, conceiving that
a shot had struck him in a vital part, cried
out " He's down, boys ! he's down 1"
and so he was, but it was only for a mo-
ment : he leapt up with renewed vigour,
and at least eighty balls were successively
discharged at him from different positions
before he fell a second time. Previous to
that fall, Mr. Joshua Brookes had ar-
rived with his son, and suggested to Mr.
Herring to aim especially at the ear, at
the eye, and at the gullet.

The two soldiers despatched from
Somerset-house by Mr. Cross came in
a short time before Mr. Brookes, and dis-
charged about three or four rounds of
ball cartridge, which was all the amuni-
tion they had. It is a remarkable in-
stance of the animal's subjection to his
keeper, that though in this deranged
state, he sometimes recognised Cartmell's
usual cry of " Chunee ! Chunee ! Chunee-
lah !" by sounds with which he was accus-
tomed to answer the call, and that more
than once, when Cartmell called out " Bite
Chunee ! bite P which was his ordinary
command to the elephant to kneel, he
actually knelt, and in that position re-
ceived the balls in the parts particularly
desired to be aimed at. Cartmell, there-
fore, kept himself as much as possible out
of view as one of the assailarits, in order
that his voice might retain its wonted
ascendency. He and Newsam, and their
comrades took every opportunity of
thrusting at him. Cartmell, armed with a
sword at the end of a pole, which he af-
terwards affixed to a rifle, pierced him
several times.

On the elephant's second fall he lay
with his face towards the back of the den,
and with one of his feet thrust out be-
tween the bars, so that the toes touched
the menagerie floor. At this time he had
from a hundred and ten to a hundred and
twenty balls in him; as he lay in a
posture, Cartmell thrust the sword into
nis body to the hilt. The sanguinary con-
flict had now lasted nearly an hour; yet,
with astonishing alacrity, he again rose,
without evincing any sign that he had
sustained vital injury, though it was ap-
parent he was much exhausted. He en-

or,on receiving his death-wound, fall back-
wards against it, which would inevitably
have carried the whole away, the keepers
availed themselves of the juncture to ra-
pidly lash the gates of his den with a
chain and ropes so securely, that he could
not force them without bringing down the
entire front.

Mr. Herring now directed his rifle
constantly to the ear : one of these balls
took so much effect, that the elephant
suddenly rushed round from the blow,
and made his last furious effort at the
gates. Mr. Tyler describes this rush as
the most awful of the whole. If the gates
had not been firmly lashed, the animal
must have come through; for, by this
last effort, he again dislodged them,
and they were kept upright by the
chain and ropes alone. Mr. Herring from
this time chiefly directed his fire at
the gullet ; at last he fell, but with so
much deliberation, and in a position so
natural to his usual habits, that he seemed
to have lain down to rest himself. Mr.
Herring continued to fire at him, and
spears were ran into his sides, but he re-
mained unmoved, nor did he stir from the
first moment of his .fall. Four or five
discharges from a rifle into his ear pro-
duced no effect : it was evident that he
was without sense, and that he had drop-
ped dead, into the posture wherein he al-
ways lay when alive.

The fact that such an animal, of such;
prodigious size and strength, was destroy-
ed in such a place, without an accident,
from the commencement to the close of
the assaults a subject of real astonishment.
The situation of Mr. Cross's menagerie,
after the removal of the elephant, was
equally and almost as agreeably surpris-
ing. A partial dissection took place on
the Sunday, and in the course of the same
day the body of the animal, with the
skeleton, hide, and every particle of the
remains, were removed. A stranger en T
tering the place on Tuesday, ignorant of
the recent event, could not have suspect-
ed such an occurrence. The menagerie
was destitute of offensive smell, and, in
every respect, preserved its usual appear-
ance of order and cleanliness. Thus
much is testified by the editor of the
Every-Day Book from personal observa-
tion ; and, if he were not too unwell to
write more, he would add some interesting

335

THE E\EHYDAY BOOK. MARCH 9.

336

particulars jespecling " Chuneelah,"
which are necessarily deferred till the
next sheet.

A representation of the outude front
of the den seeming essential to the right
understanding of the narrative, an en-
graving of it is added from a drawing
made by Mr. Jchn Clej. horn, the archi-

tectural draftsman, for that purpose. It
is minutely correct in form and propor-
tion, and shows the bar which the ele-
phant broke and displaced in his last
lounge. Though of solid oak, six inches
square, it broke beneath mVrash like a
slight .'tick.

This engraving will be particularly
referred to hereafter.

Ben of tfce (Efrpbant at jttrr

The posture of the animal as he lay
dead,, is shown by the engraving at the
head of this article.

Several interesting anecdotes concerning
elephants are extracted and subjoined from
th$ Philosophical Transactions, Grose's

Voyage to the East Indies, Shaw's Zoology r
Goldsmith's Animated Nature, the Gentle
man's Magazine, and other works and col-
lections, some of which are named in the
extracts themselves.

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THE EVEIIY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 9.

338

Tn the "London Magazine," for 1761,
there is an imperfect description of a
large elephant, which is there called a
" monstrous creature," presented by the
court of Persia to the king, of Naples at
that period. There is a detailed account
of the animal by M. Nollet r in the " Phi-
losophical Transactions" of the French
Royal Academy. The " London " editor
was so struck by this elephant's enormous
consumption of food, that he observes,
" as the keeping of an elephant is so ex-
pensive, we may conclude that no old
or full-grown one will ever be brought
here for a show." It is true that Mr.
Cross's elephant, on his arrival in this
country, was neither old nor full-grown ;
but his exhibition falsifies the English
editor's presumption, that the great outlay
for such an animal's keep would be an
effectual bar to such enterprise as we
have seen manifested by Mr. Cross,
whose elephant was in size, and other
respects, greatly superior to the " enor-
mous" elephant of his majesty of the
Two Sicilies.

Besinian observes, that the Bullets to
be made use of in hunting and killing the
elephants, must be of iron, lead being too
soft in its texture to do any execution.
He says, " elephants are very difficult to
be killed, unless the ball happens to light
betwixt the eyes and the ears ; to which
end the bullet ought to be iron also.
Their skin is as good proof against the
common musket lead balls, as a wall ;
and if they hit the mentioned place be-
come entirely flat." Afterwards he says,
"Those who pretended thoroughly to
understand the elephant-shooting, told us,
that we ought to have shot iron bullets,
since those of lead are flatted, either by
their bones, or the toughness of their skin."

About the year 1767, a cutler at Shef-
field in Yorkshire, in sawing an elephant's
tooth into proper laminae or scantlings
of ivory, met with a resistance which
he had great difficulty to overcome.
After he had got through the ob-
struction, it proved to be an iron bullet,
lodged in the very body of the tooth, with-
out any visible mark externally of the
place where it entered.

Tn 18dl, Mr. Charles Combe described
to theRoyalSociety, an elephant's tusk with
the iron head of a spear thoroughly im-
bedded in it. From its position, he pre-

sumed it to have been forced by manual
strength, through that part of the skirtl
contiguous to the tusk ; and that pursuing
the natural course of the cavity, it pointed
downwards towards the apex of the tusk.
Other substances foreign to the natural
growth of the tusks of elephants, are fre-
quently, found within them.

It is not until after the discharge of a
hundred or perhaps double the number of
rifles, that the elephant is slain in India,
when he is chased by persons inured to
the danger, and determined on his de-
struction. It will not excite astonish-
ment, therefore, that Mr. Cross's noble
animal should have retained life under
the firing of one hundred and fifty-two
shots. There is an account of a splendid
hunting party of a late Nawab Asuf-ud-
Dowlah, who, with an immense retinue,
took the field for the purpose of destroy-
ing every animal they met with. On a
large plain overgrown with grass they
discovered a wild elephant. The Nawab
immediately formed a semicircle, with
four hundred tame elephants, who were
directed to advance and surround him.
When the semicircle of elephants got
within three hundred yards of the wild
one, he looked amazed, but not frightened.
Two large and fierce elephants were or-
dered to advance against him, but they
were repulsed by a dreadful shock, and
drove by the Nawab, who, as the wild
one passed, ordered some of the strongest
female elephants to go alongside and
endeavour to entangle him with nooses
and running knots; the attempt, how-
ever, was vain, as he snapped every rope,
and none of the tame elephants could
stop his progress. The Nawab, perceiv-
ing it impossible to catch him, ordered
his death, and immediately a volley of
above a hundred shots were fired. Many
of the balls hit him, but he seemed un-
concerned, and moved on towards th
mountains. An incessant fire was kept up
for nearly half an hour ; the Nawab and
most of his omras, or lords, used rifles,
which carried two or three ounce balls
but they made very little impression, ana
scarcely penetrated beyond the skin. Out
author, who was mounted on a female
elephant, went up repeatedly within ten
yards of the wild one, and fired his rifle
at his head ; the blood gushed out, but
the skull was invulnerable. Some of the
Kandahar horse then galloped up and
wounded the beast in several places. At

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length, being much exhausted with the
loss of blood, from the number oC wounds
which he had received, he slackened his
pace, and became quite calm and serene,
as if determined to meet his approaching
end. The horsemen, seeing him weak
and slow, dismounted, and with their
swords commenced a furious attack on
the tendons of his hind legs, which were
soon divided, and the operation com-
pletely disabled the poor animal from
proceeding any further: he staggered,
and then fell without a groan. The
hatchet-men now advanced, and began to
cut away his large ivory tusks, while the
norsemen and soldiers in the most unfeel-
ing manner attacked the dying creature
with their swords. We can readily be-
lieve the writer, when he says the sight
was very affecting. The noble animal
still breathed, and breathed without a
groan. He rolled his eyes in anguish on
the surrounding crowd, and, making a
last effort to rise, expired with a sigh,

Before gunpowder was invented, ele-
phants were used by the nations of Asia
and Africa for the purposes of war, and
the kings of Ceylon, Pegu, and Arracan,
have from time immemorial employed
them for this use. Sharp sword-blades
were fastened to their trunks, and upon
their backs were fixed small wooden
castles, containing five or six men, armed
with javelins, and other missile weapons.
The Greeks and Romans, however, soon
learnt the best method of defence against
these enormous warriors. They opened
their ranks to let them pass through, and
directed their whole attack against their
riders. But since tire-arms have become
the principal instruments of war, ele-
phants, who are terrified both by the fire,
and the noise of their discharge, would
be of more detriment than advantage to
the party that should employ them.
Some of the Indian kings, however, still
use armed elephants in their wars. In
Cochin, and other parts of Malabar, all
the soldiers that do not fight on foot are
mounted upon elephants. This is also
the case in Tonqxun, Siam, and Pegu,
where the use of fire-arms is but little
known. The leader of the elephant sits
astride upon his neck, and the combat-
ants sit or stand upon other parts of his
body. The elephants also prove very
serviceable in passing rivers, and carry
the baggage over on their backs. When
their leaders have loaded them with a

burden of several hundred weight, they
tie cords to it, by which the soldiers hold
fast and swim, or are drawn across the
river. In battle, a heavy iron chain is
sometimes fastened to the end of their
trunk, which they swing about with
such rapidity, as renders it impossible
for an enemy to approach them. Ano-
ther service which these animals perform
in war, consists in forcing open the gates
of besieged towns or fortresses. This
they do, by stemming themselves with
their haunches against the gates, and
moving from side to side till they have
broken the hinges, and forced open the
gate. In order to prevent this, the be-
sieged have generally large nails fixed
in the gates, and projecting to a consider-
able length.

Elephants are also employed for tran-
sporting heavy ordnance over mountains,
in doing which they show a, singular
degree of ingenuity. When oxen or
horses are harnessed to a piece of ord-
nance, it requires the exertion of all their
strength to draw it up an ascent. The
elephant, in such cases, pushes the car-
riage forward with his forehead, and after
every push, stems his knees against the
wheels, whereby he prevents it from
rolling back.

Wild elephants were caught and trained
at an early period; since we find Arrian,
who flourished about the 104th year of
Christ, giving us the following account of
the manner of taking elephants in India.
The Indians enclose a large spot of
ground, with a trench about twenty feet
wide, and fifteen high, to which there is
access but in one part, and this is a
bridge, and is covered with turf; in order
that these animals, who are very subtle,
may not suspect what is intended. Of
the earth that is dug out of the trench, a
kind of wall is raised, on the other side of
which a little kind of chamber is made,
where people conceal themselves in order
to watch these animals, and its entrance
is very small. In this enclosure two or
three tame female elephants are set. The
instant the wild elephants see or smell
them, they run and whirl about so much,
that at last they enter the enclosure;
upon which the bridge is immediately
broken down, and the people upon the
watch fly to the neighbouring villages for
help. After they have been broken for
few days by hunger and thirst, people
enter the enclosure upon the tame ele-

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342

pliants, and with these they attack them.
As the wild ones are by this time very
much weakened, it is impossible for them
to make a long resistance. After throw-
ing them on the ground, men get upon
their backs, having first made a deep
wound round their necks, about which
they throw a rope, in order to put them
to great pain in case they attempt to stir.
Being tamed in this manner, they suffer
themselves to be led quietly to the houses
with the rest, where they are fed with
grass and green corn, and tamed insen-
sibly by blows and hunger, till such time
as they obey readily their master's voice,
and perfectly understand his language.

In a description of the process of catch-
ing wild elephants, related by John Corse,
Esq. in the " Asiatic Researches," he
interests the reader by an account of the
escape of one which had been tamed, and
of his submission to his keeper when he
was recaptured. He says, in June,
1787, Jattra-mungul, a male elephant
taken the year before, was travelling in
company with some other elephants
towards Chittigong, laden with a tent,
and some baggage for the accommodation
of Mr. Buller and myself on the journey.
Having come upon a tiger's track, which
elephants discover readily by the smell,
he took fright and ran off to the woods in
spite of the efforts of his driver. On
entering the wood, the driver saved him-
self by springing from the elephant, and
clinging to the branch of a tree, under
which he was passing : when the elephant
had got rid of his driver, he soon contrived
to shake off his load. As soon as he ran
away, a trained female was despatched
after him, but could not get up in time to
prevent his escape ; she, however, brought
back his driver, and the load he had
thrown off, and we proceeded, without
any hope of ever seeing him again.

Eighteen months after this, when a
herd of elephants had been taken, and had
remained several days in the enclosure,
till they were enticed into the outlet, and
there tied, and led out in the usual man-
ner, one of the drivers, viewing a male
elephant very attentively, declared that
he resembled the one which had run away.
This excited the curiosity of every one to
go and look at him ; but when any person
came near, the animal struck at him with
his trunk, and, in every respect, appeared
as wild and outrageous as any of the other
elephants. At length, an old hunter,

coming up and examining him narrowly,
declared he was the very elephant thai
had made his escape.

Confident of this, he boldly rode up to
him, on a tame elephant, and ordered him
to lie down, pulling him by the ear at the
same time. The animal seemed quite
taken by surprise, and instantly obeyed
the word of command, with as much
quickness as the ropes with which he was
tied permitted ; uttering at the same time
a peculiar shrill squeak through his trunk,
as he had formerly been known to do ; by
which he was immediately recognised by
every person who had ever been acquaint-
ed with, this peculiarity.

Thus we see that this elephant, for the
space of eight or ten days, during which
he was in the haddah, and even while he
was tying in the outlet, appeared equally
wild and fierce as the boldest elephant
then taken ; so that he was not even sus-
pected of having been formerly taken, till
he was conducted from the outlet. The
moment, however, he was addressed in a
commanding tone, the recollection of his
former obedience seemed to lush upon
him at once ; and, without any difficulty,,
he permitted a driver to be seated on his
neck, who in a few days made him as
tractable as ever.

Bruce relates the Abyssinian mode of
destroying the elephant from his own
observation, during his return from Gon-
dah, and while sojourning with Ayto
Confu. His narrative is in these words.

Though we were all happy to our wish
in this enchanted mountain, the active
spirit of Ayto Confu could not rest. He
was come to hunt the elephant, and hunt
him he would. All those that understood
any thing of this exercise had assembled
from a great distance, to meet Ayto Confu
at Tcherkin. He and Engedan, from the
moment they arrived, had been overlook-
ing from the precipice their servants
training and managing their horses in the
market-place below. Great bunches of
the finest canes had been brought from
Kawra for javelins ; and the whole house
was employed in fitting heads to them in
the most advantageous manner. For my
part, though I should have been very well
contented to have remained where I was,
yet the preparations for sport of so noble
a kind roused my spirits, and made me
desirous to join in it.

On the 6th, an hour before day, after a
heartv breakfast, we mounted on horse-

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THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 9

344

back, to the number of about thirty, be-
longing to Ayto Confu. But there was
another body, both of horse and foot>
which made hunting Ihe elephant their
particular business. These men dwell
constantly in the woods, and know very
little of the use of bread, living entirely
upon the flesh of the beasts they kill,
chiefly that of the elephant or rhinoceros.
They are exceedingly thin, light, and
agile, both on horseback and foot;; are
very swarthy, though few of them black ;
none of them woolly-headed, and all of
them have European features. They are
called Agageer, a name of their profes-
sion, not of their nation, which comes
from the word agar, and signifies to hough
or hamstring with a sharp weapon. More
properly it means the cutting of the ten-
don of the heel, and is a characteristic of
the manner in which they kill the ele-
phant, which is- shortly as follows :

Two men, absolutely naked, without
any rag or covering' at all about them, get
on horseback ; this precaution is for fear
of being laid hold of by the trees or
bushes in making their escape from a very
watchful enemy; One of these riders sits
upon the back of the horse, sometimes
with a saddle j and sometimes without
one, ^irith only a switch, or short stick in
one hand, carefully managing the bridle
with the other ; behind him sits his com-
panion, who has no other arms but a
broad-sword, such as is used by Sclavo-
nians, and which is brought from Trieste.
His left hand is employed grasping the
sword by the handle ; about fourteen
inches of the blade is covered with whip-
cord. This part he takes in his right
hand, without any danger of being hurt
by it ; and, though the edges of the lower
part of the sword are as sharp as a razor,
he carries it without a scabbard.

As soon as the elephant is found feed-
ing, the horseman rides before him as near
his face as possible; or, if he flies, crosses
him in all directions, crying out, " I am
such a man and such a man ; this is my
horse, that has such a name; I killed
your father in such a place, and your
grandfather in such another place ; and
I am now come to kill you ; you are but
an ass in comparison of them." This
nonsense he verily believes the elephant
understands, who, chased and angry at
hearing the noise immediately before
him, seeks to seize him with his trunk, or
proboscis ; and, intent upon this, follows
the horse everywhere, turning and turning

round with him, neglectful of making his
escape by running straight forward, in
which consists his only safety. After
having made him turn once or twice in
pursuit, of the horse, the horseman rides
close up alongside of him, and drops his
companion just behind on the off side;
and while he engages the elephant's atten*
tion upon the horse, the footman behind
gives him a drawn stroke just above the
heel, or what in man is called the tendon
of Achilles. This is the critical moment;
the horseman immediately wheels round,
takes his companion up behind him, and
rides off full speed after the rest of the
herd, if they have started more than one ;
and sometimes an expert agageer will kill
three out of one herd. If the sword is
good, and the man not afraid, the tendon
is commonly entirely separated ; and if it
is not cut' through, it is generally, so far
divided, that the animalj with the stress
he puts upon it j breaks the remaining part
asunder. In either case, he remains in-
capable of advancing a step, till the
horseman's return, or his companions
coming up pierce him through with jave-
lins and lances: he then falls to the
ground, and expires with loss of blood.

The agageer nearest me presently lamed
his elephant, and left him standing. Ayto
Engedan, Ayto Confu, Guebra Mariam,
and several others, fixed their spears in
the other before the agageer had cut his
tendons. My agageer, however, having
wounded the first elephant, failed in the
pursuit of the second; and beingj close
upon him at the entrance of the wood, he
received a violent blow from the branch
of, a tree which the elephant had bent by
his weight^ and, after passing, allowed
it to replace itself; when it knocked down
both the riders, and very much hurt the
horse. This, indeed, is the great danger
in elephant-hunting ' y , fop some of the
trees, that are dry and short, break by
the violent pressure of so immense a body
moving so rapidly, and fall upon the pur-
suers, or across the roads. But the
greatest number of these trees being of a
succulent quality, they bend without
breaking, and return quickly to the former
position, when they strike both horse and
man so violently, that they often beat
them to pieces. Dexterous too as the
riders are, the elephant sometimes reaches
them with his trunk, with which he dashes
the horse against the ground, and then
sets his feet upon him, till he tears him
limb from limb with his proboscis ; a

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TOE EVEKY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 9.

346

great many hunters die this way. Besides
this, the soil at this time of the year is
tplrt into deep chawns, or cavities, by the
neat of r the sun, so that nothing can be
more dangerous than the riding.

The elephant once slain, they cut the
whole of the flesh off his bones into thongs,
like the reins of a bridle, and hang these
like festoons upon the branches of trees,
till they become perfectly dry, without
salt ; and then they lay them up for their
provisions in the season of the rains.

A very interesting account of the affec-
tion of a young elephant for its mother,
concludes Bruce's description of this cruel
amusement.

There now remained but two elephants
ef those that had been discovered, which
were a she one with a <:alf. The agageer
would willingly have let these alone, as
the teeth of the female are very small, and
the young one is of no sort of vake,
even for food, its flesh shrinking much
upon dying ; but the hunters would not
be limited in their sport. The people
having observed the place of her retreat,
thither we eagerly followed. She was
very soon found, and as soon lamed by
ihe agageers; but when they came to
wound her with their darts, as every one
did in turn, to our very great surprise, the
voung one, which had been suffered to
escape unheeded and unpursued, came
out from the thicket, apparently in great
anger, running upon ihe horses and men
with ail the violence it was master of. I
was amazed, and as .much as ever 1 was,
u.pon such an occasion, afflicted aj; seeing
the great affection of the little animal de-
fending its wounded mother, heedless of
its own life or safety. I therefore cried to
them for God's sake to spare the mother,
though it was then too late ; and the calf
had made several rude attacks upon me,
which I avoided without difficulty ; but I
am happy to this day in the reflection that
I did not strike it. At last, making one
of his attacks upon Ayto Engedan, it
hurt him a little upon the leg; upon
which he thrust it through with his lance,
as others did after, and then it fell dead
before its wounded mother, whom it had
so affectionately defended.

The bodies of elephants are frequently
oiled, -tojprevent the effects of the sun on
them. They are fond of ahe water in hot
weather, and seem delighted when they
are rubbed with a brick, or any hard

substance, on the upper part of the head.
They are very sure-footed, have an active,
shuffling gait, and generally travel about
three or four miles an hour, but may be
urged on to six when goaded by a man
who ruas behind the animal for that pur-
pose. They are very fond of sugar-canes,
and the leaves of the banyan; they can
free a cocoa-nut from its tough coat, crack
it, and take out the nut free from the shell.
A small race of elephants, from five to
six feet in height, are much used about
the court in the northern part of India.
When the elephant passes through a
crowd, he is very careful to open a way
with his trunk, that he may not injure
any one. This observation is strength-
ened by M. d'Obsonville, who 'informs us
that the baron de Lauriston -was induced
to go to Laknaor, the capital of the
Soubah, or viceroyalty of that name, at a
time when an epidemic distemper was
making the greatest ravages amongst the
inhabitants. The principal road to the
palace gate was covered with the sick
and dying, extended on the ground, at
the very moment when the nabob must
necessarily pass. It appeared impossible
for the elephant to do otherwise than
tread upon and crush many of these poor
wretches in his passage, unless the prince
would stop till the way could be cleared ;
but he was in haste, and such tenderness
would be unbecoming. in a ,personage of
his importance. The .elephant, however,
without appearing to slacken his pace,
and without having received any com-
mand for that purpose, assisted them with
his .trunk, removed some, and stepped
over the rest with so much address and
assiduity, that not one person was
wounded.

The proboscis of the elephant is the
most distinguishing character in his for-
mation. It is hollow all along, but with
a partition running from one end of it to
the other; so, though outwardly it ap-
pears like a single pipe, it is inwardly
divided into two. This fleshy tube is
composed of nerves and muscles, covered
with a proper skin of a blackish colour,
like that of the rest of the body. It is
capable of being moved in every direc-
tion, of being lengthened and shortened,
of being bent or straightened, so pliant
as to embrace any body it is applied to,
and yet so strong, that nothing can be
torn from .the .gripe. To aid the force o-
this grasp, there are little eminences, like

347

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 9.

348

a caterpillar's feet, on the underside of
this instrument, which, without doubt,
contribute to the sensioility of the touch
as well as to firmness of the hold.
Through this trunk the animal breathes,
drinks, and smells, as through a tube ;
and at the very point of it, just above the
nostrils, there is an extension of the skin,
about five inches long, in the form of a
finger, and which, in fact, answers all the
purposes of one ; for, with the rest of the
extremity of the trunk, it is capable of
assuming different forms at will, and,
consequently, of being adapted to the
minutest objects. By means of this the
elephant can take a pin from the ground,
untie the knots of a rope, unlock a door,
and even write with a pen. " I have
myself seen," says ./Elian, " an elephant
writing Latin characters on a board, in a
very orderly manner, his keeper only
showing him the figure of each letter.
While thus employed, the eyes might be
observed studiously cast down upon the
writing, and exhibiting an appearance of
great skill and erudition." It sometimes
happens that the object is too large for
the trunk to grasp ; in such a case the
elephant makes use of another expedient,
as admirable as any of the former. It
applies the extremity of the trunk to the
surface of the object, and, sucking up its
breath, lifts and sustains such a weight
as the air in that case is capable of
suspending. In this manner this instru-
ment is useful in most of the purposes of
life ; it is an organ of smelling, of touch-
ing, and of suction ; it not only provides
for the animal's necessities and comforts,
but it also serves for its ornament and
defence.

Mr. Corse affirms, that the usual height
of the male Asiatic elephant is from eight
to ten feet, and, in one instance only, he
saw one of ten feet six inches. The young
one at its birth is thirty-five inches ; one
grew eleven inches in the first year ;
eight, six, and five, in the three succeed-
ing years. The full growth is at nineteen
years. He says, elephants that have
escaped from confinement have not saga-
city to avoid being retaken, and they will
breed in confinement. The young, he
observes, begin to nibble and suck the
breast soon after birth, pressing it with
the trunk, which, by mutual instinct, they
know will make the milk flow more rea-
dily into their mouths while sucking.
Elephants never lie down to give their

young ones suck ; and it often happens,
when the dam is tall, that she is obliged,
for some time, to bend her body towards
her young, to enable him to reach the
nipple with his mouth ; consequently, if
ever the trunk were used to lay hold of the
nipple, it would be at this period, when
he is making laborious efforts to reach it.
with his mouth, but which he could al-
ways easily do with his trunk if it answer-
ed the purpose. In sucking, the young
elephant always grasps th.e nipple, which
projects horizontally from the breast, with
his mouth. Mr. Corse often observed
this ; and so sensible were the attendants
of it, that, with them, it is a common
practice to raise a small mound of earth,
about six or eight inches high, for the
young one to stand on, and to save the
mother the trouble of bending her body
every time she gives suck, which she can-
not readily do when tied to her picket.
Tame elephants are never suffered to re-
main loose in India, as instances occur of
the mother leaving even her young and
escaping into the woods. Another cir-
cumstance deserves notice : if a wild ele-
phant happens to be separated from he?
young for only two days, though giving
suck, she never afterwards recognises it.
This separation happened, sometimes,
unavoidably, when they were enticed,
separately, into the kiddah.

Elephants in India are taught to re-
verence the various sovereigns to whom
they belong, when they appear in his
presence. They are then trained to war-
fare, and rushing upon the enemy, as if
conscious of their superior strength, beat
down all before them. They have even
been known to brave the hottest fire of
the enemy's artillery. Beauleu, in his
" Voyage to the East Indies," mentions
that the king of Achen places his whote
strength in nine hundred elephants, which
are bred to tread fire under their feet, and
to be unmoved at the shot of cannon, and
likewise to salute the king when they pass
by his apartments, by bending their
knees, and raising their trunks three
times. This traveller adds, that they. are
influenced by exemplary punishment ;
and gives an instance of the face. The
king of Achen, he says, having order-
ed the embarkation of a hundred ele-
phants for the siege of Dehly, when they
were brought to the coast not one of
them would enter the ship. The king
being acquainted with their behaviour,

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THE EVERY- DAY BOOK. MARCH 9,

350

went in person to the shore, and after ex-
pressing passion and rage at their dis-
obedience, ordered one of them to be cut
asunder in the presence of the rest ; on
which they all peaceably embarked, and
were more than ordinary tractable during
the whole voyage.

White elephants are reverenced
throughout the east, and the Chinese
pay them a certain kind of worship. The
Burmese monarch is called the " king of
the white elephants," and is regarded un-
der that title with more than the ordinary
veneration which oriental despotism
exacts from its abject dependants.

The little island of Elephanta, oppo-
site to the fort of Bombay, derives its
name from a sculptured figure in stone,
of the natural colour, and ordinary size,
of the animal. It is elevated on a plat-
form of stone of the same colour, and on
the back of this granite elephant was a
smaller one, apparently of the same
stone, which had been broken off. There
is no history, nor any well grounded tra-
dition, relative to this statue. The island
itself is distinguished for extraordinary
antiquities, particularly a magnificent
temple hewn out of the solid rock, adorn-
ed by the arts of sculpture and painting
with statues and pictures, probably of
more remote age than the earliest efforts
of Greek or Roman genius. Many of
these venerable representations suffered
irreparable injury, and vast numbers
were wholly destroyed, by the barbarian
ravages of the Portuguese, who formerly
obtained possession of the place, and
dragged field-pieces to the demolition of
these the most curious, and, possibly, the
most ancient monuments of oriental
grandeur. Queen Catharine of Portugal,
who held the island in dower, was so
sensible of the importance of this spot,
that she imagined it impossible that any
traveller on that side of India would
return without exploring the wonder? of
the " Cave of Elephanta.'* The island
is destitute of all other interest.

That elephants are susceptible ,pf the
most tender attachment to each other, is
evinced by the following occurrence,
which is recorded in a French journal :
Two very young elephants, a male and a
female, were brought from the island of
Ceylon to Holland. They had been
separated from each other in order to be

conveyed from the Hague to the Museum
of Natural History, in Paris, where a
spacious stable had been constructed fo-
them. This was divided into two parti-
tions, which communicated to each other
by means of a trap-door. Both of the
divisions were surrounded with strong
wooden paling. The morning after their
arrival they were brought into this habi-
tation : the male elephant was introduced
first. With an air of suspicion he ex-
amined the place, tried each of the beams
by shaking it with his trunk to see if it
was fast. He endeavoured to turn round
the large screws which held them on the
outside, but this he found impracticable.
When he came to the trap-door between
the two partitions, he discovered that it
was secured only by a perpendicular iron
bolt, which he lifted up, pushed open the
door, and went into the other partition,
where he ate his breakfast.

It was with great difficulty that these
animals had been separated in order to
be conveyed singly to Paris, and having
now not seen each other for several
months, the joy they expressed at meet-
ing again is not to be described. They
immediately ran to each other, uttered a
cry of joy that shook the whole building,
and blew the air out of their trunks with
such violence, that it seemed like the
blast of a smith's bellows. The pleasure
which the female experienced seemed to
be the most lively ; she expressed it by
moving her ears with astonishing rapidity,
and tenderly twining her trunk round the
body of the male. She laid it particularly
to his ear, where she held it for a con-
siderable time motionless, and after hav-
ing folded it again round his whole body,
she applied it to her own mouth. The
male in like manner folded his trunk
round the body of the female ; and the
pleasure which he felt at their meeting
seemed to be of a more sentimental cast,
for he expressed it by shedding an abun-
dance of tears. Afterwards they had
constantly one stable in common, and the
mutual attachment between them excited
the admiration of every beholder.

The following example shows that ele-
phants are capable also of forming at-
tachments to animals of a different spe-
cies.

An elephant which the Turkish empe-
ror sent as a present to the king of Naples,
in the year 1740, displayed a particular
attachment towards a ram, that was con-

3&1

THE E VERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 9.

fined, together with some other animals,
in his stable. He even permitted him to
butt at him with his horns, as these ani-
mals are wont to do. But if the ram
abused the liberty he gave him, the only
punishment he inflicted upon him for it
was, that he took him up with his trunk,
and threw him upon a dung-heap, though
if any of the other animals attempted to
take liberties with him, he dashed them
with such violence against the wall, -that
he killed them on the spot.

An elephant, rendered furious 'by the
wounds he had received in an engage-
ment at Hambour, rushed into the plain
uttering the most hideous cries. A sol-
dier, whose comrades made him sensible
of his danger by calling to him, was
unable on account of his wounds, to re-
treat with sufficient expedition out of the
way of the enraged animal. But the
elephant, when he came to him, seemed
to be apprehensive lest he should trample
him with his feet, raised him with his
trunk, and ^having 'laid him gently on one
side, continued 'his progress.

At Mahie, on the coast of Malabar,
the owner of an elephant lent him out
for hire. His occupation consisted in
drawing timber for building out of a
river, which he performed very dexter-
ously with his trunk, under the guid-
ance of a boy. He then piled the beams
upon each other with such regularity,
that no human being could have done it
better.

Elephants do not merely obey the
commands of their keeper while he is
present, but they perform also hi his
absence the most singular operations
when they have previously "been made
acquainted with the nature of them. I
once saw, says JM. d'Obsonville, two
elephants employed in demolishing a
wall, in obedience to the orders pre-
viously received from their cornacks,
who had encouraged them to undertake
the task by a promise of fruit and
brandy. They united their powers,
placed their trunks together, which were
defended by a covering of leather, and
pushed with them against the strongest
part of the wall ; repeated their efforts,
carefully watching at the same time the
effect of the equilibrium, which they
followed till the whole was sufficiently
loose, when they exerted their whole
strength in one more push, after -which

they speedily retreated out of the reach ot
danger, and the whole wall fell to the
ground.

Bosmann relates, that in December.
1700, an elephant came at six o'clock in
the morning towards Fort Mina, on the
Gold Coast, and took his road along the
river at the foot of Mount St. Jago. Some
of the negroes ran unarmed about him,
which he .permitted without appearing to
be in the least degree suspicious of them.
But a Dutch officer shot at him, and
wounded him over his eye. The animal
did not alter his course, but pricking his
ears, proceeded to the Dutch garden,
where he saw the director-general and
other officers belonging to the fort, sitting
under the shade of some palm-trees. He
had torn down about a dozen of these
trees with the greatest facility, when
upwards of an hundred bullets were dis-
charged at him. He bled ewer 'his whole
body, but still kept his legs, and did not
halt in the least. A negro now, to plague
the elephant., pulled him by the tail, at
which the animal, being provoked, seized
him with his trunk, threw him to the
ground, and thrust his tusks twice through
his body. As soon as the negro was
killed, he turned from him, and suffered
the other negroes to take away his body
unmolested. He now remained upwards
of an hour longer in the garden, and
seemed to have directed his attention to
the Dutchmen who were sitting at a dis-
tance of fifteen or sixteen paces from him.
As these had expended their ammuni-
tion, and feared that the elephant might
attack them, they made their retreat. In
the mean time the elephant was come to
another gate, and although the garden-
wall consisted of a double row of stones,
he easily threw it down, and went out by
the breach. He then walked slowly to a
rivulet, and washed off the blood with
which he was covered : after that he re-
turned to the palm-trees, and broke some
boards that were placed there for the pur-
pose of building a vessel. The Dutch-
men had in the mean time procured a
fresh supply of powder and ball, and their
repeated shots at length put the elephant
outof conditionto make further resistance.
They then with great difficulty cut oft
his trunk, upon which the elephant, whc
till then had not uttered a sound, set u/v
a hideous roar, threw himself down under
a tree, and expired.

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THE VEIIY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 9.

354

particulars wmrerm'ttjj (JHkp&ants generallp*

The elephant is not an enemy to any
other animal It is said that the mouse
is the only quadruped that is an enemy to
him, and that this little quadruped holds
him in perpetual fear. He sleeps with
the end of his proboscis so close to the
earth, that nothing but the air he breathes
can get between ; for the mouse is affirm-
ed to enter its orifice, when he finds it
possible, and, making his way to the ele-
phant's vital parts in search of food or
shelter, by that means destroys the mighty
tenement wherein his own littleness is
ensconced.

The great dean of St. Paul's, if he may
be so called without disparagement to
Colet, has two noble stanzas on this sub-
ject on "The Progress of the Soul."
They were read to the editor of the Every-
Day Book, by one of the kindest of hu-

man beings, himself a poet, from his own
copy of the book wherein the hand of 3
friend, the greatest living poet, and per-
haps the greatest mind of our country
hath penned, that " Donne's rhythm was
as inexplicable to the many as blank
verse, spite of his rhymes. Not one in a
thousand of his readers have any notion
how his lines are to be read. To read
Dryden, Pope, &c. you need only count
syllables ; but to read Donne you must
measure time, and discover the time of
each word by the sense and passion."
Having presumed on the wonted indulg-
ence of friendship, by this transcription
from the manuscript notes of a borrowed
volume, for counsel and caution in the
present reader's behalf, the verses are sub-
mitted to his regard.

Natures great master-piece, an Elephant,
The onely harmelesse great thing ; the giant
Of beasts; who thought none had, to make nim wise,
But to be just, and thankful, loth t' offend
(Yet nature hath given him no knees to bend)
Himself he up-props, on himself relies,
And foe to none ; suspects no enemies,
Still sleeping stood ; vext not his fantasie
Black dreams, like an unbent bow careiesly
His sinewy Proboscis did remisly lie.

In which as in a gallery this mouse
Walk'd and survey 'd the rooms of this vast house,
And to the brain, the soul's bed chamber, went,
And gnaw'd the life cords there ; Like a whole town
Clean undermined the slain beast tumbled down ;
With him the murth'rer dies, whom envy sent
To Mil, not scape ; for onely he that meant
To die, did ever kill a man of better roome ;
And thus he made his foe, his prey and tombe :
Who cares not to turn back, may any whither come

Donne.

SThe " elephant," according to Randle
Holme, is regarded, in heraldry, as " the
emblem of vigilance, necjacet in somno ;
but, like a faithful watchman, sleeps in a
sentinel's posture ; it denoteth strength,
ingenuity, and ambition of people's praise;
it signifieth also meekness and devotion."
He mentions an elephant argent on a
ihield gules, that "this coat is born by
Jhe name of Elphinston." Describing
VOL II. 64.

that " they (the elephant) aie a great and
vast creature," he says, that " an ele-
phant's head erased gules," on a shield
argent, " is borne, -by the name of Brod-
ric." In explanation of this bearing,
Holme's knowledge seems to have been
more correct in heraldry than in natural
history, for he declares that " this should
be termed a she-elephant, or the head of
a female elephant ; by reason his tusks or

355

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK.MARCH 9.

356

teeth stand upwards, and the male stands
downwards ; but this," says our lament-
ing herald, " is a thing in heraldry not
observed." He positively affirms, that " it
were sufficient distinction for a coat of
arms between families" (!) as much a dis-
tinction " as the bearing of a ram and a
ewe, or a lion with red claws, and an-
other with yellow ; and much more (dis-
tinctive) than ermyne and ermynites,
(they) being both one, save (that) the last
hath one hair of red on each side of every
one of the poulderings : a thing little re-
garded, makes a great alteration in arms."
His discrepant distinctions between the
male and female are exceedingly amus-
ing, and he is quite as diverting with their
trunks. He figures their " snowts inwards,
or snowts respected" which, he says, is
11 a term used when things (either quick
or dead) are, as it were, regarding or
looking one at another.'* Then he gives
a bearing "Argent out of a coronet or ;
two proboscides (or trunks) of two ele-
phants reflected endorsed, gules, each
adorned with three trefoils, vert. This"
says Holme, " is a very great bearing
amongst the Dutch, as their books of he-
rauldry inform me ; for there is scores of
those families, bear the elephant's trunk
thus : some adorned with roses, leaves,
pendants, crosses, or with other varieties
of things, each set at a certain distance
from the trunk by a footstalk. Now,"
he goes on to say, with a hand most
carefully pointing to the important fact,
thus " ^^^Now, in the blazon of such
coates, you must first observe the reflec-
tion of the proboscides^ whether the
snowts stand respected, or endorsed ; and
then to tell the exact number of things,
each one is endorsed withall : for in some,
they will have one thing apeece, others
2, 3, 4, 5, &c. Some, again, will have
(with the sides, and others without the
sides, adorning,) such and such things set
in the concave or hole of the snowt." He
refers to precedents for these essential
particulars, and in a page, wherein he
assigns " the left arm of a devil, or fiend
with a devil-like foot," for " the coat of
Spittachar," he gives to "the name of
Oberstagh," on a field argent, " the pro-
boscide of an elephant erected and
couped, bowed or imbowed, or ; maned,
or haired, to the middle, azure ; and col-
lared at the bottom with an hawk's bill
fixed thereunto, gules ; out of the snowte,
a Dutch fane pendant sable." So like-
wise by taking, for your guide, his de-

scriptions under a " demy talbot, his feet
converted, turned, or metamorphosed
into elephants' snowts, with two flowers
de lis issuant, you shall have demy men,
women, lions, and other creatures born
with several sorts of things in the places
of hands and feet." We will not, how-
ever, travel on his " elephants' snouts in
coat armour,'* beyond a field or, with
" the proboscide of an elephant, erected,
flexed and recurved gules, issuing out of
a pierced place ; towards the basis there-
of, a rose-sprig vertant et revertant, about
the trunk to the middle thereof proper"
According to Holme, this elegant bear-
ing may be claimed by any reader who
has the happiness to bear " the name 01
Van Snotflough." Concerning, however,
" snowts bowed, and imbowed, erected
and couped," Holme guardedly adds
that "these things, though I from my
author, and from their similitude to an
elephant's trunk, have all along termed
them so, yet, in my judgment theywouid
pass better for horns, and I take them to
be absolute horns." Thus, " at one fell
swoop," when destitute readers may be
large with speculation raised by our friend
Holme, he disturbs their fond regards,
and they who contemplate glorious
" atchievements" with the " proboscides
of elephants," must either content them-
selves with " absolute horns," or gaze on
empty "fields."

In several parts of India, elephants are
employed to perform upon criminals the
office of an executioner. With their
trunks they break the limbs of the cul-
prit, trample him to death, or impale him
upon their tusks, according as they are
ordered by their master.

This use of elephants in the east, and
their sagacity, is alluded to by one of our
poets :

Borri records their strength of parts,

Extent of thought, and skill in arts ;

How they perform the law's decrees,

And save the state the hangman's fees :

And how by travel understand

The language of another land.

Let those who question this report^

To Pliny's ancient page resort j

How learn'd was that sagacious breed,

Who now, like them, the Greek can read.

The author ot " The Chase'* elegantly
describes one of the devices by which the
elephant is caught in his own domains :

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THE E VERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 9.

358

On distant Ethiopia's sunburnt coasts,
Tne black inhabitants a pitfall frame,
With slender poles the wide capacious mouth,
And hurdles slight, they close ; o'er these is spread
A floor of verdant turf, with all its flowers
Smiling delusive, and from strictest search
Concealing the deep grave that yawns below.
Then boughs of trees they cut, with tempting fruit
Of various kinds surcharg'd, the downy peach,
The clustering vine, and of bright golden rind
The fragrant orange. Soon as evening grey
Advances slow, besprinkling all around
With kind refreshing dews the thirsty globe,
The stately elephant from the close shade
With step majestic strides, eager to taste
The cooler breeze, that from the sea-beat shore
Delightful breathes, or in the limpid stream
To lave his panting sides ; joyous he scents
The rich repast, unweeting of the death
That lurks within. And soon he sporting breaks
The brittle boughs, and greedily devours
The fruit delicious. Ah ! too dearly bought ;
The price is life. For now the treacherous turf
Trembling gives way ; and the unwieldy beast
Self sinking, drops into the dark profound.
So when dilated vapours, struggling, heave
Th' incumbent earth ; if chance the cavernM ground
Shrinking subside, and the thin surface yield,
Down sinks at once the ponderous dome, ingulph'd
With all its towers.

Sowervile.

According to Bayle, the Romans called
elephants Boves Lucas, because, as it is
reported, they saw them for the first time
in Lucania, during a great battle with
Pyrrhus. The issue of the conflict was
extremely doubtful, for the ground on
both sides was lost and won seven times;
but, at last, the Epirotes got the victory
by means of their elephants, whose smell
frighted the Roman horses. In a subse-
quent engagement they were fatal to
Pyrrhus; they threw his troops into dis-
order, and the Romans we're victorious.

Elephantiasis is a disease in man, de-
riving its name from the elephant, who is
also afflicted with a similar disorder. It is
also called the Arabian leprosy. Medical
treatises describe its appearances, mode
of cure in the human being. As few
readers possess elephants, it will not be
necessary to say more of it, than that it is
cutaneous ; and that to prevent it in the
elephant, the Indians apply oil to the
animal's skin, which, to preserve its plian-
cy, they frequently bathe with the unc-
tuous fluid.

Some parts of the elephant's skin, which
are not callous, are seized upon by flies,
and they torture the animal exceedingly.
His tail is too short to reach any por-
tion of his body, and his trunk alone is
insufficient to defend him from myriads
of his petty enemies. In his native forests
he snaps branches from the trees, and
with his trunk brushes off his tormentors,
and fans the air to prevent their settling
on him. In a confined state, he converts
a truss of hay into a wisp for the same
purpose ; and he often gathers up the dust
with his trunk and covers the sensible
places.

It is related by M. Navarette, that at
Macassar, an elephant driver had a cocoa
nut given him, which, out of wantonness,
he struck twice against his elephant's
forehead to break, and that, the day fol-
lowing, the animal saw some cocoa nuts
exposed in the street for sale, one of which
he took up with his trunk, and beat it
about the driver's head, till the man was
completely dead. " This comes," says
our author, " of jesting with elephants."'

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THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 9.

3fiO

A sentinel at the Menagerie in Paris,
used often to desire the visitors not to
give the elephants any thing to eat.
This admonition was particularly dis-
agreeable to the female elephant, and she
took a great dislike to the sentinel. She
had several times endeavoured to make
him desist from interfering, by squirting
water over his head, but without effect.
One day, when several persons came to
see these animals, one of them offered a
piece of bread to the female, which being
perceived by the sentinel, just as he was
opening his mouth to repeat his usual
admonition, the elephant stepped oppo-
site to him, and threw a large quantity of
water into his face. This excited the
laughter of all the by-standers ; but
the sentinel coolly wiped his face, placed
himself a little on one side, and was as
usual very vigilant. Not long after he
again found occasion to repeat his for-
mer admonition to the spectators ; but
scarcely had he done it when the elephant
tore his musket out of his hand, wound
her trunk round it, trod upon it, and did
not deliver it again to him till after she
had twisted it completely into the form of
a screw.

A person resident in Ceylon, near a
place where elephants were daily led to
water, often used to sit at the door of his
house, and occasionally to give to one
of these animals some fig-leaves, a food
to which elephants are very partial.
Once he took it into his head to play the
elephant a trick. He wrapped a stone
round with fig-leaves, and said to the
cornack (the keeper of the elephants)
"This time I will give him a stone to eat,
and see how it will agree with him."
The cornack answered, " that the ele-
phant would not be such a fool as to
swallow the stone." The man, however,
reached the stone to the elephant, who
taking it with his trunk applied it to his
mouth, and immediately let it fall to the
ground. " You see," said the cornack,
" that I was right." Saying these
words, he drove away his elephants,
and after having watered them, was con-
ducting them again to their stable. The
man who had played the elephant the
trick with the stone was still sitting at
nis door, when, before he was aware, the
animal made at him, threw his trunk
round him, and dashing him to the
ground trampled him immediately to
death-

All Naples, says Sonnini, in one of his
notes to Buffon's " Natural History," has
witnessed the docility and sagacity of an
elephant that belonged to the king. He
afforded great assistance to the masons
that were at work upon the palace, by
reaching them the water they required,
which he fetched in large copper vessels
from a neighbouring well. He had ob-
served that these vessels were carried to
the brazier's when they wanted any re-
pair. Observing, therefore, one day that
the water ran out at the bottom of one of
them, he carried it of his own accord
to the brazier, and having waited while it
was repairing, received it again from him,
and returned to his work. This, elephant
used to go about the streets of Naples
without ever injuring any one : he was
fond of playing with children, whom he
took up with his trunk, placed them on
his back, and set them down again on
the ground without their ever receiving
the smallest hurt.

There is a remarkable instance of an
elephant's attachment to a very young
child. The animal was never happy but
when it was near him : the nurse used,
therefore, very frequently to take the
child in its cradle, and place it between
his feet, and this he became at length so
accustomed to, that he would never eat
his food except when it was present.
When the child slept he used to drive off
the flies with his proboscis, and when it
cried he would move the cradle backward
and forward, and thus again rock it to
sleep.

.ZElian relates that a man of rank in
India, having very carefully trained up
a female elephant, used daily to ride
upon her, and gave her many proofs of
his attachment to her. The king of the
country, who had heard of the extraor-
dinary gentleness and capacity of this
animal, demanded her of her owner ;
but he, unwilling to part with his fa-
vourite, fled with her to the mountains.
By order of the king he was pursued,
and the soldiers that were sent after him
having overtaken him when he was at
the top of a steep hill, he defended him-
self by throwing stones at them, in which
he was faithfully assisted by the ele-
phant, who had learnt to throw stones
with great dexterity. At length, how-
ever, the soldiers gained the summit of
the hill, and were about to seize the

361

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 9.

362

fugitive, when the elephant rushed
amongst them with the utmost fury,
trampled some of them to death, dashed
others to the ground with her trunk, and
put the rest to flight. She then placed
her master, who was wounded in the
contest, upon her back, and conveyed
him to a place of security. There are
numerous well-attested anecdotes of simi-
lar instances of the affection of elephants
towards their owners.

If elephants meet with a sick or
wounded animal of their own species,
they afford him all the assistance in their
power. Should he die, they bury him,
and carefully cover his body with branches
of trees.

During a war in the East Indies, an
elephant, that had received a flesh-wound
from a cannon-ball, was conducted twice
or thrice to the hospital, where he stretch-
ed himself upon the ground to have his
wounds dressed. He afterwards always
went thither by himself. The surgeon
employed such means as he thought would
conduce to his cure ; he several times
even cauterized the wound, and although
the animal expressed the pain which this
operation occasioned him, by the most
piteous groaning, yet he never showed
any other sentiments towards the opera-

tor than those of gratitude and affection.
The surgeon was fortunate enough to
completely cure him.

There is a further anecdote of this ani-
mal's gratitude. A soldier at Pondi-
cherry, who was accustomed, whenever
he received a portion that came to his
share, to carry a certain quantity of it to
an elephant, having one day drank rather
too freely, and finding himself pursued by
the guards, who were going to take him
to prison, took refuge under the elephant's
body and fell asleep. In vain did the
guard try to force him from this asylum :
the elephant protected him with his trunk.
The next morning the soldier recovering
from his drunken fit, shuddered to find
himself stretched under the belly of this
huge animal. The elephant, which, with-
out doubt, perceived the embarrassment of
the poor fellow, caressed him with his
trunk, in order to dissipate his fears, and
make him understand that he might now
depart in safely,

It should not be forgotten that the poet
of " The Seasons " refers to the sagacity
of the elephant, his seclusion in his natu-
ral state, the arts by which he is ensnared,
the magnificence of his appearance m
oriental solemnities, and his use in war-
fare :

Peaceful, beneath primeval trees, that cast
Their ample shade o'er Niger's yellow stream,
And where the Ganges rolls his sacred wave ;
Or mid the central depth of blackening woods,
High rais'd in solemn theatre around,
Leans the huge elephant : wisest of brutes !
() truly wise ! with gentle might endow'd,
Though powerful, not destructive! Here he sees
Revolving ages sweep the changeful earth,
And empires rise and fall ; regardless he
Of what the never-resting race of men
Project : thrice happy ! could he 'scape their guile,
Who mine, from cruel avarice, his steps ;
Or with his towery grandeur swell their state,
The pride of kings ! or else his strength pervert,
And bid him rage among the mortal Iray,
Astonish'd at the madness of mankind.

Thomson

On the 27th of September, 1763, cap-
tain Sampson presented an elephant,
brought by him from Bengal, to his ma-
jesty, at the queen's house. It was con-
ducted from Rotherhithe that morning at
two o'clock, and two blacks and a seaman

rode on his back. The animal wa's about
eight feet high.

The zebra, now well known from its
being frequently brought into this coun-
try, was at that time almost a " stranger
in England." One of them having been

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THE EVERY-DA\ BOOK. MARCH 9.

-364

given to her Lite majesty queen Charlotte,
obtained the name of the " queen's ass,"
and was honoured by a residence in the
tower, whither the elephant was also con-
veyed. Their companionship occasioned
some witticisms, of which there remains
this specimen.

EPIGRAM

On the Elephant's being placed in the
same cable with the Zebra.

Ye critics so learn 'd, whence comes it to pass
That the elephant wise should be plac'd by

an ass ?

This matter so strange I'll unfold in a trice,
Some asses of state stand in need of advice
To screen them from justice, lest in an ill

hour,
In the elephant's stead they be sent to the

tower.

On the occasion of captain Sampson's
present to the king, several accounts of
the elephant were written. One of them
says, that " the largest and finest ele-
phants in the world are those in the
island of Ceylon; next to them, those of
the continent of India ; and lastly, the
elephant of Africa." The Moors, who
deal in these animals throughout the In-
dies, have a fixed price for the ordinary
sort, according to their size. They mea-
sure from the nail of the fore foot to the
top of the shoulder, and for every cubit
high they give after the rate of 100J. of
our money. An African elephant of the
largest size -measures about nine cubits,
or thirteen feet and a half in height, and
is worth about 900/., but of the breed of
Ceylon, four times that sum/'

Tavernier, in proof of the superio-
rity of the elephant of Ceylon, says,
" One, I will tell you, hardly to be be-
lieved, but that which is a certain truth,
which is, that when any other king, or
rajah, has one of these elephants of Cey-
lon, if they bring them any other breed in
any other place whatever, so soon as the
other elephants behold the Ceylon ele-
phants, by an instinct of nature, they do
them reverence, by laying their trunks
upon the ground, and raising them up
again."

Though Caesar does not mention the
fact in his commentaries, yet it is certain
that he brought elephants with him to
England, and that they contributed to
his conquest of our predecessors. Poly-

aenus in his " Stratagems," says, "Caesar
in Britain attempted to pass a great river,
(supposed the Thames :) Casolaunus, (in
Caesar, Cassivellaunus) king of the Britons,
opposed his passage with a large body of
horse and chariots. Caesar had in his
company a vastly large elephant, (peyisros
l\<as) a creature before that time un-
known to the Britons. This elephant he
fenced with an iron coat of mail, built a
large turret on it, and putting up bowmen
and slingers, ordered them to pass first
into the stream. The Britons were dis-
mayed at the sight of such an unknown
and monstrous beast, (aopalov ' virepoQes
0r)piov) they fled, therefore, with their
horses and chariots, and the Romans
passed the river without opposition,
terrifying their enemies by this single
creature."

In 1730, or 1731, some workmen dig-
ging the great sewer in Pall Mall, " over
against the King's Arms tavern," dis-
covered at the depth of twenty-eight feet,
several bones of an elephant. The strata
below the surface were ten or twelve feet
of artificial soil ; below that four or five
feet of yellow sand, varying in colour till
they came to the bed wherein the bones
were found, which consisted of exceed-
ingly fine sand similar to that dug on
Harnpstead heath.

About eighteen years previously, ele-
phants' bones were discovered in digging
in St. James's-square ; and about four-
teen years before that some were found
in the same place. These various
animal remains in that neighbourhood
lay at about the same depth.

In 1740, the remains of an elephant
were discovered by some labourers while
digging a trench in the park of Frances
Biddulph, esq. at Benton, in Sussex.
The bones did not lie close together as
those of a skeleton usually do. It was
evident that the various parallel strata of
the earth had never been disturbed ; it
was concluded that these animal de-
posits had remained there from the period
of the deluge, when it was presumed that
they had been conveyed and there, left,
on the subsidence of the waters.

In 1756, the workmen of a gentleman,
digging upon a high hill near Mendip for
ochre and ore, discovered, at the depth of
315 feet from the surface, four teeth, not
tusks, and two thighbones with part of the

305

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 10.

366

nead of an elephant. Remains of the same
animal have been at periods discovered
at Mersey Island in Essex, at Harwich,
at Chartham near Canterbury, at Bowden
Parva, in Norfolk, Suffolk, Northampton-
shire, and in various other parts of Great
Britain and Ireland. Elephant's teeth
were discovered at Islington, in digging a
gravel pit.

Shakspeare, in "Troilus and Cres-
sida," compares the slowness of Ajax to
that of the elephant ; and in the same
play he again compares him to the same
animal, and afterwards continues the
comparison.

There is reason to believe, that the
elephant was adopted at that period as
the sign of a public inn. Antonio in
" Twelfth Night " tells Sebastian,

" In the south suburbs at the Elephant
Is best to lodge : I will bespeak our diet,
^V r hile you beguile your time."

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR
Mean Temperature . . . 39 65.

10.

Benjamin West.

A few anecdotes of this eminent painter,
who died on the 10th of March, 1820,
are related in vol. i. p. 346. By the fa-
vour of a gentleman who possesses letters
from him, the reader is presented with

Mr. West's Autograph.

Another gentleman, an artist, has
obligingly made a drawing from the bust
by Mr. Behnes, in sir John Leicester's
gallery, and thrown in some touches from
intimate acquaintance with Mr. West, in
his last illness, to convey an idea of his
friend's last, looks.

^Benjamin

367

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 11.

368

The elegant volume descriptive of sir
John Leicester's gallery, contains an out-
line of Mr. Behnes' bust ; the outline
of that delineation is preserved in the
preceding sketch, because it is familiar
Mr. Behnes conveys to us the apostolic
simplicity of "West's character, and
the present engraving may be regard-
ed as inviting the admirers of the
genius of the late president of the royal

academy ,who have not seen the marble, to
view it, in sir John Leicester's noble col-
lection of works of British artists, which
during a stated season every year is
liberally opened to public inspection.

In "The Examiner" of the 10th of
March, 1816, there are some lines, too
beautiful in sentiment to be passed over
on any day.

PROVIDENCE.
From the Italian of Filicaia.

Just as a mother with sweet pious face

Yearns tow'rds her little children from her seat,
Gives one a kiss, another an embrace,

Takes this upon her knees, that on her feet :
And while from actions, looks, complaints, pretences,

She learns their feelings and their various will,
To this a look, to that a word dispenses,

And whether stern or smiling, loves them still :

So Providence for us, high, infinite,
-Makes our necessities its watchful task,

Hearkens to all our prayers, helps all our wants ;
And ev'n if it denies what seems our right,
Either denies because 'twould have us ask,
Or seems but to deny, or in denying grants.

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature ... 38 90,

11.

Newark Custom,

FOUNDED ON & DREAM.

To the Editor of the Every-Day Book.

Newark, Feb. 1826.
A curious traditional story of a very
extraordinary deliverance of alderman
Hercules Clay, and his family, by a dream,
is at your service.

I am, &c.
BENJAMIN JOHNSON.

On March 11, every year, at Newark-
upon-Trent, penny loaves are given away
to every one who chooses to appear at
the town-hall, and apply for them, in
commemoration of the deliverance of
Hercules Clay, during the siege of New-
ark by the parliamentary forces. This
Hercules Clay, by will dated llth of De-

cember, 1694, gave to the mayor and al-
dermen one hundred pounds, to be placed
at interest by the vicar's consent for his
benefit, to preach a sermon on the 1 1 th
day of March, annually, and another
hundred pounds to be secured and ap-
plied in like manner for the poor of the
town of Newark, which is distributed as
above-mentioned. The occasion of this
bequest was singular. During the bom-
bardment of the town of Newark, by the
parliament army under Oliver Cromwell,
Clay (then a tradesman residing in
Newark market-place) dreamed three
nights successively, that his house was set
fire to by the besiegers. Impressed by
the repetition of this warning, as he consi-
dered it, he quitted his house, and in the
course of a few hours after the prediction
was fulfilled.

CHRONOLOGY.

1727. March 11. The equestrian sta-
tue of king George I., in Grosvenor-
square, was much defaced j the left leg
torn off, the sword and truncheon broken
off, the neck hacked as if designed to cut
off the head, and a libel left at the place.*

British Chronologist.

369

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 12.

370

NATURALISTS CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature ... 40 60.

1826. Fifth Sunday in Lent.

CHRONOLOGY.

On the 12th of March, 1808, died, at
West Ham, in Essex, George Gregory,
D. D. vicar of that parish. He was de-
scended from a respectable family, origi-
nally from Scotland, a branch of which
was settled in Ireland. His father, who
had been educated in Trinity-college,
Dublin, held, at the time of his son's birth,
the living of Edernin, and a prebend in
the cathedral of Ferns. Dr. Gregory was
born on April 14, 1754, but whether in
Dublin or in Lancashire, of which county
his mother was a native, is uncertain.
When twelve years of age, at the death o.
his father, he was removed to Liverpool,
where his mother fixed her residence,
desiring to place him in commerce ; but a
taste for literature being his ruling pro-
pensity, he studied in the university of
Edinburgh, in 1776 entered into holy
orders, and his first station in the church
was in the capacity of a curate at Liver-
pool. His attachments were chiefly
among the liberal and literary. In con-
junction with Mr. Roscoe, and other
congenial spirits, Dr. Gregory had the
merit of publicly exposing the cruelty and
injustice of the slave trade in the princi-
pal seat of that traffic. In 1 '8-2, he re-
moved to London, and obtained the
curacy of St. Giles's, Cripplegate, which,
on account of the weight of its parochial
duty, he left in three years, though by
a general invitation he was recalled as
morning preacher in 1788; and on the
death of the vicar in 1 802, a request was
presented to the dean and chapter of
St. Paul's, signed by every inhabitant,
that he might succeed to the vacancy.
In the mean time he pursued with inde-
fatigable industry those literary occupa-
tions, which, in various ways, have bene-
fited the public. Dr. Gregory was a
useful writer who, without aiming, except
rarely, at the reputation of original com-
position, performed real services to letters,
by employing a practised style, an ex-
ercised judgment, and extensive informa-
tion, in works of compilation or abridge-
ment, adapted to the use of that numerous
class who desire to obtain knowledge in

a compendious manner. His publica-
tions were successfully planned and ably
executed. He served at different times
the curacy and lectureship of St. Botolph,
the lectureship of St. Luke's, and a
weekly lectureship of St. Antholin's, and
was elected evening preacher at the
Foundling hospital, which the state of his
health obliged him to resign. The bishop
of London presented him with a small
prebend in the cathedral of St. Paul's,
which he relinquished on receiving the
rectory of Stapleford, Herts. In 1804,
he was presented by Lord Sid mouth (then
Mr. Addington) with the valuable living
of West Ham, in Essex, when he resigned
every other clerical charge except that of
Cripplegate, to which parish he was
attached by warm feelings of gratitude.

At West Ham he passed four years,
discharging with fidelity his duties as a
clergyman and a magistrate, and occu-
pying his leisure with literature. Life
was endeared to him by domestic enjoy-
ments in the bosom of an amiable and
affectionate family, and by the society of
many friends, whom he was much valued
for his perpetual readiness to serve and
oblige, and the unaffected cheerfulness of
his conversation. Without any decided
cause of illness, the powers of his consti-
tution suddenly and all together gave
way ; every vital function was debilitated,
and after a short confinement, he expired
with the calm resignation and animating
hopes of a Christian. Among his nu-
merous works are, " Essays, historical and
moral," a " Translation of Lowth's Lec-
tures on the Sacred Poetry of the He-
brews," a " Church History," from which
he acquired celebrity with the inquiring,
" The Economy of Nature," and a well-
known " Dictionary of Arts and
Sciences."*

CURIOUS NARRATIVE.
To the Editor of the Every-Day Book.

Sir,

The interment of the late duchess of
Rutland, at Bottesford, the family burial-
place, has had a more than usual number
of persons to visit its many sepulchral mo-
numents. One of them to the \uemory
of Francis Manners, earl of Rutland, who
lies buried here, is very splendid. It
represents him with his countess in a
kneeling posture, and two children who
are supposed to have been beivitch'd to

* Dr. Aikin's Athenseum.

371

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 12.

372

death. The inscription to that effect I
read, and procured a copy of the parti-
culars from an old book which is always
read to visiters by the sexton ; and which,
as to the execution of the alleged crimi-
nals at Lincoln, on the 12th of March,
1618, I find to be correct, and send it for
your use.

I am, Sir, &c.

B. JOHNSON.

Newark, Feb. 22, 1826.

The only alteration in the transcript is
a variation from inaccurate spelling.

EXTRACT
From the Church Book of Bottesford.

When the Right Hon. Sir Francis
Manners succeeded his Brother Roger in
the Earldom of Rutland, and took pos-
session of Belvoir Castle, and of the
Estates belonging to the Earldom, He
took such Honourable measures in the
Courses of his Life, that He neither dis-
placed Tenants, discharged Servants, nor
denied the access of the poor ; but, mak-
ing Strangers welcome, did all the good
offices of a Noble Lord, by which he got
the Love and good-will of the Country,
his Noble Countess being of the same
disposition : So that Belvoir Castle was a
continual Place of Entertainment, Espe-
cially to Neighbours, where Joan Flower
and her Daughter were not only relieved
at the first, but Joan was also admitted
Chairwoman and her daughter Marga-
rett as a Continual Dweller in the Castle,
looking to the Poultry abroad, and the
washhouse at Home; and thus they
Continued till found guilty of some mis-
demeanor which was discovered to the
Lady. The first complaint against Joan
Flower the Mother was that she was a
Monstrous malicious Woman, full of
Oaths, Curses, and irreligious Impreca-
tions, and, as far as appeared, a plain
Atheist. As for Margarett, her Daughter,
she was frequently accused of going from
the Castle, and carrying Provisions away
in unreasonable Quantities, and returning
in such unseasonable Hours that they
could not but Conjecture at some mis-
chief amongst them ; and that their ex-
traordinary Expences tended both to rob
the Lady and served also to maintain
some debauched and Idle Company which
frequented Joan Flower's House. In
some time the Countess misliking her
(Joan's) Daughter Margarett, and disco-
vering some Indecencies in her Life, and
the Neglect of her Business, discharged

her from lying any more in the Castle,
yet gave her forty Shillings, a Bolster,
and a Mattress of wool, commanding her
to go Home. But at last these Wicked
Women became so malicious and re-
vengeful, that the Earl's Family were
sensible of their wicked Dispositions ;
for, first, his Eldest Son Henry Lord
Ross was taken sick after a strange Man-
ner, and in a little time Died ; and, after,
Francis Lord Ross was Severely tortured
and tormented by them, with a Strange
sickness, which caused his Death. Also,
and presently after, the Lady Catherine
was set upon by their Devilish Practices,
and very frequently m Danger of her Life,
in strange and unusual Fits ; and, as they
confessed, both the Earl and his Coun-
tess were so Bewitched that they should
have no more Children. In a little time
after they were Apprehended and carried
to Lincoln Jail, after due Examination
before sufficient Justices and discreet
Magistrates.

Joan Flower before her Conviction
called for bread and butter, and wished
it might never go through her if she were
guilty of the Matter she was Accused of;
and upon mumbling of it in her Mouth
she never spoke more, but fell down and
Died, as she was carried to Lincoln Jail,
being extremely tormented both in Soul
and Body, and was Buried at Ancaster.

The Examination of Margarett Flower

the 22nd of January, 1 6l8.
She confessed that, about four years
since, her Mother sent her for the right
Hand glove of Henry Lord Ross, and
afterwards her Mother bid her go again
to the Castle of Belvoir, and bring down
the glove, or some other thing, of Henry
Lord Ross's; and when she asked for
what, her Mother answered to hurt My
Lord Ross ; upon which she brought
down a glove, and gave it to her Mother,
who stroked Rutterkin her cat (the Imp)
with it, after it was dipped in hot water,
and, so, pricked it often after; which
Henry Lord Ross fell sick, and soon after
Died. She further said that finding a
glove, about two or three years since of
Francis Lord Ross's, she gave it to her
mother, who put it into hot water, and
afterwards took it out, and rubbed it on
Rutterkin (the Imp,) and bid him go
upwards, and afterwards buried it in the
yard, and said " a mischief light on him
but he will mend again.'' She further
confessed that her Mother and her and

373

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 13, 14

374

her sister agreed together to bewitch the
Earl and his Lady, that they might have
no more children ; and being asked the
cause of this their malice and ill-will, she
said that, about four years since, the
Countess, taking a dislike to her, gave
her forty shillings, a Bolster, and a mat-
tress, and bid her be at Home, and come
no more to dwell at the Castle ; which
she not only took- ill, but grudged it in
her heart very much, swearing to be re-
venged upon her, on which her Mother
took wool out of the Mattress, and a pair
of gloves which were given her by Mr. Vo-
vason,and put them into warm water, min-
gling them with some blood, and stirring
it together ; then she took them out of
the water, and rubbed them on the belly
of Rutterkin, saying, " the Lord and the
Lady would have Children but it would
be long first/' She further confessed
that, by her Mother's command, . she
brought to her a piece of a handkerchief
of the Lady Catherine, the Earl's Daugh-
ter, and her Mother put it into hot water,
and then, taking it out, rubbed it upon
Rutterkin, bidding him " fly and go,'*
whereupon Rutterkin whined and cryed
" Mew," upon which the said Rutterkin
had no more power of the Lady Catherine
to hurt her.

Margarett Flower and Phillis Flower,
the Daughters of Joan Flower, were exe-
cuted at Lincoln for Witchcraft, March
12, 1618.

Whoever reads this history should con-
sider the ignorance and dark superstition
of those times; but certainly these women
were vile abandoned wretches to pretend
to do such wicked things.

" Seek not unto them that have familiar
spirits, nor wizards, nor unto witches
that peep and that mutter : should not a
people seek unto their God." Isaiah xix.

This entry in the church book of Bot-
tesford is certainly very curious. Its
being read at this time, to the visitors of
the monuments, must spread the " won-
derful story" far and near among the
country people, and tend to the increase
of the sexton's perquisites ; but surely if
that officer be allowed to disseminate the
tale, he ought to be furnished with a few
sensible strictures which he might be re-
quired to read at the same time. In all
probability, the greater number of visi-
tants are attracted thither by the surpri-
sing narrative, and there is at least one
hand from whom might be solicited such

remarks as would tend to obviate undue
impressions. Instances are already re-
corded in this work of the dreadful in-
fluence which superstitious notions pro-
duce on the illiterate.

NATURALISTS CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature ... 40 72.

ilarcf) is.

CHRONOLOGY.

On the 13th of March, 1614, in the
reign of king James I., Bartholomew
Legat, an Arian, was burnt in Smithfield
for that heresy.

1722, March 13, there were bonfires,
illuminations, ringing of bells, and other
demonstrations of joy, in the cities of Lon-
don andW estminster, upon the dissolution
of the septennial parliament.*

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature ... 40 47.

14.

FOOTBALL.
To the Editor of the Every-Day Book.

Sir, Perhaps you are not aware that,
during fine weather, football is played
every Sunday afternoon, in the fields, be-
tween Oldfield's dairy and Copenhagen-
house, near Islington, by Irishmen. It
generally commences at three o'clock, and
is continued till dusk. The boundaries are
fixed and the parties chosen. I believe,
as is usual in the sister kingdom, county-
men play against other county- men. Some
fine specimens of wrestling are occasion-
ally exhibited, in order to delay the two
men who are rivals in the pursuit of the
ball ; meantime the parties* friends have
time to pursue the combat, and the quick
arrival of the ball to the goal is generally
the consequence, and a lusty shout is
given by the victors.

When a boy, football was commonly
played on a Sunday morning, before
church time, in a village in the west of
England, and the church-piece was tns
ground chosen for it. I am, &c.

Islington. J.R. F.

Royal Bridal.

On the 14th of March, 1734, his serene
highness the prince of Orange was mar-
ried at St. James's, to the princess-roy^l.

* British Chroriologist.

375

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 15.

376

At eleven o'clock at night, the royal
family supped in public in the great state
ball-room.

About one, the bride and bridegroom
retired,and afterwards sat up in their bed-
chamber, in rich undresses, to be seen by
the nobility, and other company at court.

On the following day there was a more
splendid appearance of persons of quality
to pay their compliments to the royal
pair than was ever seen at this court;
and m the evening there was a ball
equally magnificent, and the prince of
Orange danced several minuets.

A few days before the nuptials, the
Irish peers resident in London, not having
received summonses to attend the royal
procession, met to consider their claims to
be present, and unanimously resolved
that neither themselves nor the peeresses
would attend the wedding as spectators,
and that they would not send to the lord
chamberlain's office for their tickets.*

THE " PAPEGUAY."
To the Editor of the Every-Day Book.
Kennington, March 7 , 1826.

Sir, The following brief observations
on the sport mentioned at p. 289, may
not be considered unacceptable ; strange
to say, it is not mentioned by either Strutt
or Fosbroke in their valuable works.

This sport obtained over the principal
parts of Europe. The celebrated composer,
C. M.Von Weber, opens his opera of hor-
rors, " Der Frieschiitz," with a scene of
shooting for the popingay. This is a
proof that it is common in Germany,
where the successful candidate is elected a
petty sovereign for the day. The neces-
sity and use of such a custom in a coun-
try formed for the chase, is obvious.

The author of the " Waverley" novels,
m his excellent tale of "Old Mortality," in-
troduces a scene of shooting for the popin-
gay, as he terms it. It was usual for the
sheriff to call out the feudal array of the
county, annually, to what was called the
wappen-schaws. The author says, " The
herifFof the county of Lanark was hold-
ing the wappen-schaw of a wild district,
called the Upper Ward of Clydesdale, on
a traugh or level plain, near to a royal
borough, the name of which is in no way
essential to my story, upon the morning
of the 5th of May, 1679, when our narra-
tive commences. When the musters had

* Gentleman's Magazine.

been made, and duly reported, the young
men, as was usual, were to mix in various
parts, of which the chief was to shoot at the
popingay, an ancient game formerly prac-
tised with archery, and then with fire-
arms. This was the figure of a bird,
decked with party-coloured feathers, so
as to resemble a popmgay or parrot. It
was suspended to a pole, and served for
a mark, at which the competitors dis-
charged their fusees and carbines in rota-
tion, at the distance of sixty or seventy
paces. He whose ball brought down
the mark, held the proud title of cap-
tain of the popingay for the remainder
of the day, and was usually escorted in
triumph to the most reputable charge-
house in the neighbourhood, where the
evening was closed with conviviality,
conducted under his auspices." From the
accuracy and research of the author, I am
inclined to take it for granted, that this
sport was common in Scotland.

A friend informs me it is common in
Switzerland, and I have no doubt ob-
tained pretty generally over Europe. In
conclusion, allow me to remark that in my
opinion the man on horseback, with the
popingay on the pole, is returning as vic-
tor from the sport; the pole in the dis-
tance evidently had the honour of support-
ing the popingay, until it was carried
away by the aim of the marksman.

I am, sir, &c. T. A.

The editor is obliged by the conjecture
at the close of the preceding letter, and
concurs in thinking that he was himself
mistaken, in presuming that the French
print from whence the engraving was
taken, represented the going out to the
shooting. He will be happy to be in-
formed of any other misconception or in-
accuracy, because it will assist him in his
endeavours to render the work a faithful
record of manners and customs. To that
end he will always cheerfully correct any
error of opinion or statement.

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature ... 40 90.

15.

The Highgate Custom.
With much pleasure insertion is given
to the following letter and its accompany-
ing song.

377 THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 16. 378

To the Editor of the E very-Day Book. which was introduced in the pantomime

of Harlequin Teague, performed at the

Seymour-street, Feb. 18, 1826. Haymarket theatre, in August, 1742. If

Sir, In illustration of the custom 01 you think it worthy the columns of your

* Swearing on the horns at Highgate," valuable work, it is at your service,
described at p. 79, in the Every-Day Book I am, &c.

:f the present year, I enclose you a song, PASCHE.

Song by the Landlord of the Horn

Silence ! take notice, you are my son,

Full on your father look, sir ;
This is an oath you may take as you run,

So lay your hand on the Hornbook, sir.
Hornaby, hornaby, Highgate and horns,
And money by hook or by crook, sir.

Hornaby, &c.

Spend not with cheaters, nor cozeners, your life,

Nor waste it on profligate beauty ;
And when you are married, be kind to your wife,

And true to all petticoat duty.
Dutiful, beautiful, kind to your wife,
And true from the cap to the shoetie.

Dutiful, &c.

To drink to a man when a woman is near,

You never should hold to be right, sir ;
Nor unless 'tis your taste, to drink small for strong beer,

Or eat brown bread when you can get white, sir.
Manniken, canniken, good meat and drink
Are pleasant at morn, noon, and night, sir

Manniken, &c.

To kiss with the maid when the mistress is kind,

A gentleman ought to be loth, sir :
But if the maid's fairest, your oath does not bind,

Or you may, if you like it, kiss both, sir.
Kiss away, both you may, sweetly smack night and day,
If you like it you're bound by your oath, sir.

Kiss away, &c.

When you travel to Highgate, take this oath again,
And again, like a sound man, and true, sir,

And if you have with you some more merry men,
Be sure you make them take it too, sir.

Bless you, son, get you gone, frolic and fun,

Old England, and honest true blue, sir.

Bless you, &c.

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR. a letter is selected for insertion this day,

Mean Temperature. . . 40' 8. because it happens to be an open one,

and therefore free for pleasant intelligence
on any subject connected with the pnr-
pose of this publication. It is an advan-

Cornish Sports, ta g e resulting from the volume already

AND THE before the public, that it acquaints its

Origin of Piccadilly. readers with the kind of information de-

From several valuable communications, sired to be conveyed, more readily than the

379

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 16.

380

prospectus proposed to their considera-
tion. If each reader will only contribute
something to the instruction and amuse-
ment of the rest, the editor has no doubt
that he will be able to present a larger
series of interesting notices and agreeable
illustrations, than any work he is at pre-
sent acquainted with.

To the Editor of the Every-Day Book.
February 6, 1826.

Sir, I send you the account of two
more games, or in-doors sports, in vogue
among the country people in Cornwall.
Of the latter, Mr. D. Gilbert has made
slight mention in the introduction to his
carols, second edition ; but he states that
these games, together with carol-singing,
may be considered as obsolete, which is
by no means the case : even yet in most of
the western parishes, (and of these I can
speak from personal observation,) the
carol-singers, not only sing their " aun-
tient chaunts" in the churches, but go
about from house to house in parties. I
am told the practice is the same in many
other parts of the county, as it is also in
various places throughout the kingdom.
I have added a slight notice respecting
Piccadilly, which (if worth inserting) may
be new to some of your readers ; but, now
for our Cornish sports : I state them as I
found them, and they are considered pro-
vincial.

Fisrt, then, the 7imfteferXtinker's)shop.-
In the middle of the room is placed a
large iron pot, filled with a mixture of
soot and water. One of the most humour-
ous of the set is chosen for the master of
the shop, who takes a small mop in his
left hand, and a short stick in his right ;
his comrades each have a small stick in
his right hand ; the master gives each a
separate name, as Old Vulcan, Save-all,
Tear em, All-my-mcn, Mend-all, &c. After
these preliminaries, all kneel down, en-
circling the iron vessel. The master cries
out, " Every one (that is, all together, or
' one and all/ as the Cornish say,) and I ;
all then hammer away with their sticks as
fast as they can, some of them with absurd
grimaces. Suddenly the master will, per-
haps, cry out, "All-my-men and I ;" upon
this, all are to cease working, except the
individual called All-my-men ; and if any
unfortunate delinquent fails, he is treated
with a salute from the mop well dipped in
the black liquid : this never fails to afford
great entertainment to the spectators, and
if the master is " well up to the sport/' he
contrives that none of his comrades shall

escape unmarked ; for he changes rapidly
from All-my-men and I, to Old Vulcan
and I, and so on, and sometimes names
two or three together, that little chance of
escaping with a clean face is left.

The Corn-market. Here, as before, an
experienced reveller is chosen to be the
master, who has an assistant, called Spy-
the-market. Another character is Old
Penglaze, who is dressed up in some ri-
diculous way, with a blackened face, and
a staff in his hand; he, together with
part of a horse's hide girt round him, for
the hobby-horse, are placed towards the
back of the market. The rest of the
players sit round the room, and have each
some even price affixed to them as names;
for instance, Two-pence, Four-pence, Six-
pence, Twelve-pence, &c. The master then
says " Spy-the-market," to which the man
responds, " Spy-the-market;" the master
repeats, " Spy-the-market ;" the man says,
" Aye, sirrah." The master then asks the.
price of corn, to which Spy-the-market,
may reply any price he chooses, of those
given to his comrades, for instance,
" Twelve-pence." The master then says,
" Twelve-pence," when the man hearing
that price answers " Twelve-pence/' and
a similar conversation ensues, as with
Spy-the-market before, and Twelve-pence
names his price, and so the game pro-
ceeds ; but if, as frequently happens, any
of the prices forget their names, or any
other mistakes occur in the game, the
offender is to be sealed, a ceremony in
which the principal amusement of the
game consists ; it is done as follows, the
master goes to the person who has for-
feited, and takes up his foot, saying,
" Here is my seal, where is old Penglaze's
seal ?" and then gives him a blow on the
sole of the foot. Old Penglaze then comes
in on his horse, with his feet tripping on
the floor, saying, " Here I comes, neither
riding nor a foot ;" the horse winces and
capers, so that the old gentleman can
scarcely keep his seat. When he arrives
at the market, he cries out, " What work
is there for me to do V The master holds
up the foot of the culprit and says, " Here,
Penglaze, is a fine shoeing match for you.' 1
Penglaze dismounts ; ' I think it's a fine
colt indeed." He then begins to work by
pulling the shoe off the unfortunate colt,
saying " My reward is a full gallon o'
moonlight, besides all other customs for
shoeing in this market;" he then gives
one or two hard blows on the shoe-less
foot, which make its proprietor tingle,

381

THJE E VERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 16.

382

and remounts his horse, whose duty it is
now to get very restive, and poor Pen-
glaze is so tossed up and down, that he
has much difficulty to get to his old place
without a tumble. The play is resumed
until Penglaze's seal is again required, and
at the conclusion of the whole there is a
set dance.

PICCADILLY. The pickadil was the
round hem, or the piece set about the
edge or skirt of a garment, whether at
top or bottom ; also a kind of stiff collar,
made in fashion of a band, that went
about the neck and round about the
shoulders ; hence the term " wooden pec-
cadilloes," (meaning the pillory) in " Hu-
dibras,'' and see Nares's " Glossary," and
Blount's " Glossographia." At the time
that ruffs, and consequently pickadils,
were much in fashion, there was a cele-
brated ordinary near St. James's, called
Pickadilly, because, as some say, it was
the outmost, or skirt-house, situate at
the hem of the town ; but it more proba-
bly took its name "from one Higgins, a
tailor, who made a fortune by pickadils,
and built this with a few adjoining
houses. The name has by a few been
derived from a much frequented shop for
sale of these articles ; this probably took
its rise from the circumstance of Higgins
having built houses there, which, however,
were not for selling ruffs; and indeed,
with the exception of his buildings, the
scite of the present Piccadilly was at that
time open country, and quite out of the
way of trade. At a later period, when
Burlington-house was built, its noble
owner chose the situation, then at some
distance from the extremity of the town,
that none might build beyond him. The
ruffs formerly worn by gentlemen were
frequently double- wired, and stiffened
with yellow starch ; and the practice was
at one time carried to such an excess that
they were limited by queen Elizabeth " to
a nayle of a yeard in depth." In the time
of James I. they still continued of a pre-
posterous size, so that previous to the
visit made by that monarch to Cambridge
in 1615, the vice-chancellor of the
university thought fit to issue an order,
prohibiting " the fearful enormity and
excess of apparel seen in all degrees, as,
namely, strange peccadilloes, vast bands,
huge cuffs, shoe-roses, tufts, locks, and
tops of hair, unbeseeming that modesty
and carriage of students in so renowned
an university." It is scarcely to be sup-
posed that the ladies were deficient in

the size of their ruffs ; on the contrary,
according to Andrews, (Continuation of
Henry's History of England, vol. ii.
307,) they wore them immoderately large,
made of lawn and cambiic, and stiffened
with yellow starch, for the, art of using
which, in the proper method, they paid as
much as four or five pounds, as also
twenty shillings for learning " to seethe
starche," to a Mrs. Dingen Van Plesse,
who introduced it, as well as the use of
lawn, which was so fine that it was a by-
word, " that shortly they would wear
ruffes of a spider's web." The poking of
these ruffs gracefully was an important
attainment. Some satirical Puritans en-
joyed the effects of a shower of rain on
the ruff-wearers ; for " then theyre great
ruffes stryke sayle, and downe they falle,
as dish-clouts fluttering in the winde."
Mrs. Turner, who was one of the persons
implicated in the death of sir Thomas
Overbury, is said to have gone to the
place of execution in a fashionable ruff,
after which their credit was very much
diminished.

I am, sir,

Your obedient servant,
W, S.

P. S. It is perhaps scarcely worth ob-
serving, that the Monday preceding Ash-
Wednesday is, in the west, called Shrove-
Monday; and that peas and pork is as
standard a dish on that day as pancakes
on Shrove-Tuesday, or salt fish on Ash-
Wednesday.

Having thus performed a duty to a
valued correspondent without waiting till
Christmas, the editor takes the liberty of
referring to the observations by which the
preceding letter was introduced, and re-
spectfully expresses an earnest hope to be
favoured with such communications as,
from the past conduct of the Every-Day
Book, may appear suitable to its columns.
For the first time, he believes, he ven-
tures to allude to any inconvenience he
has felt while conducting it ; nor does he
hint at difficulty now from lack of ma-
terials, for he has abundance ; but it is a
truth, which he is persuaded many of
his readers will be happy to mitigate,
that at the present moment he is himself
so very unwell, and has so much indis-
position in his family to distract his
mind, that he cannot arrange his collec-

383

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 17.

384

lions ; services, therefore, under such
circumstances, will be peculiarly accept-
able, If one or two of his correspon-
dents should refer him to communications
which their kindness 'have already placed
in his hands, he answers, that he is really
too ill to seek them amongst his papers.
From this it will be seen how very much
he really needs, and how much he
covets, assistance. He ventures to think
that he shall not have made this public

appeal in vain, and he again calls on the
friends and readers of his labours to semi
him their aid.

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature ... 40 5 1 .

Jflarrf) 17.

1826, Cambridge Term ends.

$atritit'* Bag a pattern.

An Irishman all in his glory was there,

With a sprig of shillelagh and shamrock so green.'

It happens that several fairs, similar to
those in the country parts of England as
to tents and booths, are held in Ireland
on Saint Patrick's day, and then its
hilarity is heightened by the publicity of
the celebration.

The usual fair day or " patron" or, as
it is usually pronounced, pattern or pat-
ten, is a festive meeting to commemorate
the virtues of a patron saint. It is a kind
of rural fete with drinking and dancing,
whereto in (Ireland) is added fighting,

" unless the neighbouring magistrates
personally interfere, or the spirits of the
people are repressed by a conscious par-
ticipation in plots and conspiracies."
This is the character of these festivals by
an Irish writer, who relates an anecdote
resulting from one of these festivals :
" We were waiting (he says,) in the vain
hope that the weather would clear up,
and allow us a fine evening for return,
when a poor stranger from Joyce country
came before ' his honour' as a magistrate.

3C5

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 17.

386

Mis black eye, swelled face, and head
and shoulders covered with clotted blood,
too plainly told the history of his suffer-
ings ; and his woeful countenance formed
a strange and ludicrous contrast with his
account of the pleasures of the preceding
evening." He had obtained these fea-
tures at a patron. " The poor fellow had
travelled many a weary mile across the
mountains to share its rustic mirth and
revelry ; but, * plaze your honour, there
was a little bit of fighting in it,' and as
no true follower of St. Macdarragh could
refuse to take a part in such a peaceful
contest, he had received, and no doubt
given, many a friendly blow; but his
meditations on a broken head during the
night, had both cooled his courage and
revived his prudence, and he came to
swear before * his honour' a charge of as-
sault and battery against those who
had thus woefully demolished his upper
works."*

The constant use of the "shillelagh"
by Irishmen at a " patron," is a puzzling
fact to Englishmen, who, on their own
holidays, regard a " shillelagh" as a
malicious weapon. In the hand of an
Irishman, in his own country, at such a
season, it is divested of that character ;
this singular fact will be accounted for,
when the origin of the custom comes to
be considered. At present, nothing more
is requisite than to add, that the " shille-
lagh" is seldom absent on St. Patrick's
day, celebrated as a patron.

Some account of the commemoration
of this festival, and of the tutelar saint of
Ireland and his miracles, is already given
in vol. i. p. 363. To this may be added
the annexed notices relative to the day,
obtained from an Irish gentleman.

It is a tradition that St. Patrick first
landed at Croagh Patrick, a high and
beautiful mountain in the county of Mayo,
from which place he banished all venomous
animals into the sea, and to this day,
multitudes of the natives who are catho-
lics, make pilgrimages to Croagh Patrick,
under the persuasion of efficacy in these
journies to atone for misdeeds, or mitigate
the penalties attached to sin.

It is a very popular tradition that when
St. Patrick was dying, he requested his.
weeping and lamenting friends to forego
their grief, and rather rejoice at his com-
fortable exit, for the better furtherance of

which, he advised each one to take " a
drop of something to drink ;" and that
this last injunction of the saint in reve-
rence to his character was complied
with. However this may be, it is a
custom on his anniversary to observe
the practice to supererogation ; for the
greater number of his present followers,
who take a little " crathur" for the pur-
pose of dissipating woeful renainiscencies,
continue to imbibe it till they " lisp and
wink."

Some years ago, " Patrick's day" was
welcomed, in the smaller country towns
or hamlets, by every possible manifest-
ation of gladness and delight. The inn, if
there was one, was thrown open to all
comers, who received a certain allowanor
of oaten bread and fish. This was a be*
nevolence from the host, and to it was
added a " Patrick's pot," or quantum of
beer ; but, of late years, whiskey is the
beverage most esteemed. The majority
of those who sought entertainment at the
village inn, were young men who had no
families, whilst those who had children,
and especially whose families were large,
made themselves as snug as possible by
the turf fire in their own cabins.

Where the village or hamlet could not
boast of an inn, the largest cabin was
sought out, and poles were extended
horizontally from one end of the apart-
ment to the other ; on these poles, doors
purposely unhinged, and brought from
the surrounding cabins were placed, so
that a table of considerable dimensions
was formed, round which all seated them-
selves, each one providing his own oaten
bread and fish. At the conclusion of the
repast, they sat for the remainder of the
evening over a " Patrick's pot," and finally
separated quietly, and it is to be hoped in
perfect harmony.

In the city of Dublin, " Patrick's day"
is still regarded as a festival from the
highest to the lowest ranks of society.
There is an annual ball and supper at
the lord lieutenant's residence in the
castle, and there are private convivial
assemblies of the most joyous character.
On this day every Irishman who is alive
to its importance, adorns his hat with
bunches of shamrock, which is the com-
mon trefoil orclover,wherewith, according
to tradition, St. Patrick converted the
Irish nation to belief in the doctrine of
the trinity in unity. In the humbler
ranks, it is the universal practice to get a

You JL-65

Letters from tht Irish Highlands.

38T

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK MARCH 17.

388

morning dram as a preparation for the
duties of the festival. They then attend
chapel and hear high mass. After the
eremonies and observances peculiar to
the Romish worship, they again resort to
the whiskey shop, and spend the remain-
der of the day in devotions to Bacchus,
which are mostly concluded, with what
in England would be called, by persons
of this class, " a row."

On Patrick's day, while the bells of
churches and chapels are tuned to joyous
notes, the piper and harper play up
" Patrick's day in the morning;" old
women, with plenteous supplies of trefoil,
are heard in every direction, crying " Buy

my shamrocks, green shamrocks," and
children have " Patrick's crosses" pinned
to their sleeves. These are small prints
of various kinds; some of them merely
represent a cross, others are represent-
ations of Saint Patrick, trampling the rep-
tiles under his feet.

It appears from this account, and from
general narrations, that St. Patrick is
honoured on his festival by every mode
which mirth can devise for praise of his
memory. The following whimsical song
is a particular favourite, and sung to " his
holiness" by all ranks in the height of
convivial excitement :

St. Patrick was a Gentleman.

St. Patrick was a gentleman, and he came from decent people :
In Dublin town he built a church and on it put a steeple ;
His father was a Wollaghan, his mother an O'Grady,
His aunt she was a Kinaghan, and his wife a widow Brady.
Tooralloo tooralloo, what a glorious man our saint was,
Tooralloo, tooralloo, O whack fal de lal, de lal, &c.

Och ! Antrim hills are mighty high and so's the hill of Howth too ;
But we all do know a mountain that is higher than them both too ;
'Twas on the top of that high mount St. Patrick preach'd a sermon,
He drove the frogs into the bogs, and banished all the vermin.
Tooralloo, &c.

No wonder that we Irish lads, then, are so blythe and frisky ;
St. Patrick was the very man that .taught us to drink whiskey ;
Och ! to be sure, he had the knack and understood distilling.
For his mother kept a sheebeen shop, near the town of Enniskillen.
Tooralloo, &c.

The day after St. Patrick's day is
" Sheelah's day,"or the festival in honour of
Sheelah. Its observers are not so anxious
to determine who " Sheelah" was, as they
are earnest in her celebration. Some say
she was " Patrick's wife," others that she
was " Patrick's mother," while all agree
that her " immortal memory" is to be
maintained by potations of whiskey.
The shamrock worn on St. Patrick's day
should be worn also on Sheelah's day,
and, on the latter night, be drowned in
v e last glass. Yet it frequently happens
that the shamrock is flooded in the last
glass of St. Patrick's day, and another last
glass or two, or more, on the same night,
deluges the over-soddened trefoil. This
is not " quite correct," but it is endea-
voured to be remedied the next morning
by the display of a fresh shamrock, which

is steeped at night in honour of "Sheelah"
with equal devotedness.

That Saint Patrick was not married is
clear from the rules of the Roman catholic
church, which impose celibacy on its
clergy. A correspondent suggests that
the idea of his matrimonial connection,
arose out of a burlesque, or, perhaps,
ironical remark, by females of the poorer
class in Ireland, to retaliate on their hus-
bands for their excesses on the 17th of
March ; or, perhaps, from the opportunity
the effects of such indulgence afforded
them, these fair helpmates are as convivial
on the following morning, as their " worser
halves" were the preceding day. " Sheelah"
is an Irish term, generally applied to a
slovenly or muddling woman, more 'par-
ticularly if she be elderly. In this way,
probably, the day after St, Patrick's ob-

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 17,18, 19.

390

tained the name of " Sheelah's day/' spe-
ciale gratia, without any reference to the
calendar of saints. The saint himself, if
we determine from the sacrifices to his
memory, is deemed a kind of Christian
Bacchus; and, on like home-made au-
thority, " Sheelah" is regarded as his con-
sort.

The editor of this work especially
regrets that few of the peculiarities
regarding this festival which are familiar
to Irishmen have been communicated to
him. He has received letters expressing
surprise that so little has been observed
concerning their country. Such com-
plaints have been made under initials,
and therefore he could not answer them :
the complainants he has no doubt could
have contributed largely themselves, and
from them he would have required infor-
mation. As many Irish usages are fast
dying away, he hopes and earnestly soli-
cits to be favoured with particulars, which
he is persuaded the collections or recol-
lections of his Irish readers can readily
furnish, and which he will be most happy
in having intrusted to him for publi-
cation. Any illustrations of Irish cha-
racter and manners, especially if drawn
up by natives of Ireland, will be highly
valued.

On St. Patrick's day, 1 740, the butchers
in Clare-market, London, hung up a gro-
tesque figure of an Irishman. A great
number of Irishmen came to pull it down,
when a fierce battle ensued, much mis-
chief was done, and several persons were
dangerously wounded; but a file of mus-
queteers having been fetched from St.
James's, some of the rioters were taken
into custody, and three of them were
committed by col. De Veil to Newgate *

A correspondent who signs, " IKEY
PJNGLE," communicates a copy of a sin-
gular monumental inscription in the
churchyard of Grimmingham, in Norfolk.
It is subjoined on this day, because the
public performer to whom it refers is
stated to have quitted this stage of life on
this day, in the year 1798.

* Gentleman's Magazine.

SACRED
To the memory of
THOMAS JACKSON, COMEDIAN,
who was engaged, 21st of Dec. 1741, to
play a comic cast of characters, in this
great theatre the World : for many of
which he was prompted by nature to excel.
The season being ended, his benefit
over, the charges all paid, and his account
closed, he made his exit in the tragedy of
Death, on the 17th of March, 1798, in
full assurance of being called once more
to rehearsal ; where he hopes to find his
forfeits all cleared, his cast of parts bet-
tered, and his situation made agreeable,
by him who paid the great stock-debt, for
the love he bore to performers in general.

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature ... 41 27.

Edward, king of the West Saxons.

On this anniversary, which is a holiday
in the church of England calendar, and
kept at the Exchequer, Rapin says, " I
do not know upon what foundation Ed-
ward was made both a saint and a mar-
tyr, unless it was pretended he was
murdered out of revenge for his great
affection to Dunstan and the monks "
See farther concerning him in vol. '.
p. 372.

NATURALISTS* CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature ... 41 75.

^larrft 19.

1826. Oxford Term ends.
PALM SUNDAY.

This is tne first of Passion Week. To
accounts of remarkable ceremonies pecu-
liar to the day, and its present obser-
vance, it is proper to add the mode
wherein it is celebrated by the papal pon-
tiff at Rome. An eye-witness to the
pageant relates as follows:

About half-past nine in the morning,
the pope entered the Sistine chapel, at-
tired in a robe of scarlet and gold, which
he wore over his ordinary dress, and took
his throne. The cardinals, who were at

391

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 19.

392

first dressed in under-robes of a violet
colour (the mourning for cardinals), with
their rich antique lace, scarlet trains, and
mantles of ermine, suddenly put off
thesp accoutrements, and arrayed them-
selves in most splendid vestments, which
had the appearance of being made of
carved gold. The tedious ceremony of
each separately kissing the pope's hand,
and making their three little bows, being
gone through, and some little chaunting
and fidgetting about the altar being got
over, two palm branches, of seven or
eight feet in length, were brought to the
pope, who, after raising over them a
cloud of incense, bestowed his bene-
diction upon them : then a great number
of smaller palms were brought, and a
cardinal, who acted as the pope's aid-de-
camp on this occasion, presented one of
these to every cardinal as he ascended
the steps of the throne, who again kissed
the pope's hand and the palm, and re-
tired. Then came the archbishops, who
kissed both the pope's hand and toe, fol-
lowed by the inferior orders of clergy,
in regular gradations, who only kissed
the toe. as they carried off their palms.

The higher dignitaries being at last
provided with palms, the deacons, canons,
choristers, cardinals, train-bearers, &c.
had each to receive branches of olive,
to which, as well as to the palms, a small
cross was suspended. At last, all were
ready to act their parts, and the pro-
cession began to move : it began with
the lowest in clerical rank, who moved off
two by two, rising gradually in dignity,
till they came to prelates, bishops, arch-
bishops, and cardinals, and terminated by
the pope, borne in his chair of state
(sedia gestatoria) on men's shoulders,
with a crimson canopy over his head.
By far the most striking figures in the
procession were the bishops and patri-
archs of the Armenian church. One of
them wore a white crown, and another a
crimson crown glittering with jewels.
The mitres of the bishops were also set
with precious stones; and their splendid
dresses, and long wavy beards of silver
whiteness, gave them a most venerable
and imposing appearance.

The procession issued forth into the
Sala Borgia (the hall behind the Sistine
chapel), and marched round it, forming
nearly a circle ; for by the time the pope
had gone out, the leaders of the pro-
cession had nearly come back again ; but
they found the gates of the chapel closed

against them, and, on admittance being
demanded, a voice was heard from within,
in deep recitative, seemingly inquiring
into their business, or claims for entrance
there. This was answered by the choris-
ters from the procession in the hall ; and
after a chaunted parley of a few minutes,
the gates were again opened, and the
pope, cardinals, and priests, returned to
their seats. Then the passion was
chaunted ; and then a most tiresome long
service commenced, in which the usual
genuflections, and tinkling of little bells,
and dressings and undressings, and walk-
ing up and coming down the steps of
the altar, and bustling about, went on ;
and which at last terminated in the .car-
dinals all embracing and kissing each
other, which is considered the kiss of
peace.

The palms are artificial, plaited of
straw, or the leaves of dried reeds, so as
to resemble the real branches of the palm-
tree when their leaves are plaited, which
are used in this manner for this ceremony
in the catholic colonies of tropical cli-
mates. These artificial palms, however,
are topped with some of the real leaves of
the palm-tree, brought from the shores of
the gulf of Genoa.*

Palm Sunday in Spain.

The following is a description of the
celebration of this day in the cathedral of
Seville :

Early in the morning, the melancholy
sound cf the passion-hell announces the
beginning of the solemnities for which the
fast of Lent is a preparation. This bell,
the largest of several which are made to
revolve upon pivots, is moved by means
of two long ropes, which by swinging the
bell into a circular motion, are twined,
gently at first, round the massive arms of
a cross, of which the bell forms the foot,
and the head its counterpoise. Six men
then draw back the ropes, till the enormous
machine receives a sufficient impetus to
coil them in an opposite direction ; and
thus alternately, as long as ringing is re-
quired. To give this bell a tone appro-
priate to the sombre character of the sea-
son, it has been cast with several large
holes disposed in a circle round the top
a contrivance which without diminishing
the vibration of the metal, prevents the
distinct formation of any musical note,
and converts the sound into a dismal
clangour.

* Rome in the Nineteenth Century.

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 19.

3C4

The chapter, consisting of about eighty
resident members, in choral robes of
black silk with long trains and hoods,
^receded by the inferior ministers, by
thirty clergymen, in surplices, whose deep
bass voices perform the plain or Ambro-
sian chaunt, and by the band of wind-
instruments and singers, who execute the
more artificial strains of modern or coun-
terpoint music, move in a long procession
round the farthest aisles, each holding a
branch of the oriental, or date palm, which
overtopping the heads of the assembled
multitude, nod gracefully, and bend into
elegant curves at every step of the bearers.
For this purpose a number of palm-trees
are kept with their branches tied up to-
gether, that, by the want of light, the more
tender shoots may preserve a delicate yel-
low tinge. The ceremony of blessing
these branches is solemnly performed by
the officiating priest, previously to the
processJon, after which they are sent by
the clergy to their friends, who tie them
to the iron bars of the balconies, to be, as
they believe, a protection against light-
ning.

In the long church-service for this day,
the organ is silent, the voices being sup-
ported by hautboys and bassoons. All the
altars are covered with purple or grey
curtains. The holy vestments, during this
week, are of the first-mentioned colour,
except on Friday, when it is changed for
black. The four accounts of our saviour's
passion, appointed as gospels for this day,
Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, are
dramatized in the following manner :
Outside of the gilt-iron railing which en-
closes the presbytery, are two large pul-
pits of the same materials, from one of
which, at the daily high mass, the sub-
deacon chaunts the epistle, as the deacon
does the gospel from the other. A mov-
able platform with a desk, is placed be-
tween the pulpits on the passion-days ;
and three priests or deacons, in albes
the white vestment, over which the dal-
matic is worn by the latter, and the casulla
by the former appear on these elevated
posts, at the time when the gospel should
be said. These officiating ministers are
chosen among the singers in holy orders,
one a bass, another a tenor, and the third
a counter-tenor. The tenor chaunts the
narrative without changing from the key-
note, and makes a pause whenever he
comes to the words of the interlocutors
mentioned by the evangelist. In those
passages the words of our saviour are

sung by the bass in a solemn strain. Th<
counter-tenor, in a more florid style, per
sonates the inferior characters, such as
Peter, the maid, and Pontius Pilate. The
cries of the priests and the multitude are
represented by the band of musicians
within the choir.*

PALM SUNDAY CUSTOM
in Lincolnshire.

The following letter is from a corres-
pondent on the spot where the custom is
still preserved.

To the Editor of the Every-Day Book.

Sir, There is a singular ceremony at
Caistor church, Lincolnshire, every Palm
Sunday, which you may think worth de-
scribing from this account of it.

A deputy from Broughton brings a very
large ox-whip, called here a gad-whip.
Gad is an old Lincolnshire measure of
ten feet ; the stock of the gad-whip is,
perhaps, of the same length. The whip
itself is constructed as follows. A large
piece of ash, or any other wood, tapered
towards the top, forms the stock ; it is
wrapt with white leather half way down,
and some small pieces of mountain ash
are enclosed. The thong is very large, and
made of strong white leather. The man
comes to the north porch, about the com-
mencement of the first lesson, and cracks
his whip in front of the porch door three
times; he then, with much ceremony,
wraps the thong round the stock of the
whip, puts some rods of mountain asa
lengthwise upon it, and binds the whole
together with whip-cord. He next ties
to the top of the whip-stock a purse con-
taining two shillings, (formerly this ?um
was in twenty-four silver pennies,) then
taking the whole upon his shoulder, he
marches into the church, where he stands
in front of the reading desk till the com-
mencement of the second lesson : he then
goes up nearer, waves the purse over the
head of the clergyman, kneels down on a
cushion, and continues in that position,
with the purse suspended over the clergy-
man's head, till the lesson is ended. After
the service is concluded, he carries the
whip, &c. to the mancr-house of Undon, a
hamlet adjoining, where he leaves it.
There is a new whip made every year; it
is made at Broughton, and left at Undon.

Certain lands in the parish of Brough-
ton are held by the tenure of this annual

* Doblado's Letters from Spam

395

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 20,21,

396

custom, which is maintained to the pre-
sent time. I am, Sir, &c.

__ G. P. J

On the 19th of March, 1755, three wo-
men in the village of Bergemoletto, near
Piedmont, were buried for thirty-seven
days in the ruins of a stable, by a heavy
fall of snow. They survived theii con-
finement, and the facts relating to it were
published by Ignazio Somis, professor in
the university of Turin. With the case
of these poor creatures, that, related at
p. 176, of our Elizabeth Woodcock, who
remained so imprisoned eight days, is
scarcely to be compared. Her sufferings
highly interest the feelings ; a narration of
theirs would too deeply wound them.

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature ... 41 . 25

LAMB SEASON.
An Anecdote

It is related in the Scottish newspapers
that about the year 1770, a Selkirkshire
farmer, a great original in his way, and
remarkable for his fondness of a " big
price" for every thing, attended at Lang-
holm fair, and, notwithstanding his
parsimonious habits, actually sold his
lambs to a perfect stranger upon his sim-
ply promising to pay him punctually at
the next market. On his return home,
the farmer's servants, who regularly
messed at the same table, and seldom
honoured him with the name of master,
inquired " Weel, Sandy, hae ye sell't the
lambs ?" " Atweel hae I, and I gat sax-
pence mair a-head for them than ony body
in the market." " And a' weel paid
siller?" " Na, the siller's no paid yet, but
its sure eneuch." " Wha's your mer-
chant, and, and what's your security ?"
" Troth I never spiered, but he's a decent
iookin' man wi tap boots, and a bottle-
green coat." The servants, at this,
laughed outright, and tauntingly told him
he would never get a farthing. Sandy,
however, thought differently, and having
accidentally hurt his leg so as to prevent
him from travelling, he sent a shepherd to
Langholm, with instructions to look for a
man with a bottle-green coat, whom he was
sure he said, to find standing near a cer-
tain sign. The shepherd did as he was
bid, and, strange to say, discovered a

person standing at the identical spot,
who, on learning his errand, inquired
kindly for his master, and paid the money
to the uttermost farthing. Sandy, who
piqued himself on his skill in physiog-
nomy, heard the news without emotion,
and merely said, " I wad at any time
trust mair to looks than words, and whan
I saw Colly smeiling about hun sae
kindly, I ken't weel eneuch he could na
be a scoundrel." This result differs from
one which might have been expected.
Sandy believed in a " second sight,"
which, in these times, a knowledge of
the arts of life disqualify most persons for
indulging on such an occasion.

p. 374,
is stated

In an early edition of vol.
the death of sir Isaac Newton
to have happened on this day in the year
1727 ; and it is added, that he was born
on the 25th of December 1742, instead of
the proper year 1642.

On the same page the death of the ce-
lebrated earl Mansfield, is mentioned to
have taken place on the same day in the
year 1793. He was aged eighty-nine,
and his autograph is now added for the
gratification of those who desire to be
acquainted with the hand-writing of dis-
tinguished persons.

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature ... 42 . 81.

;$larrf) 21.

Benedict.

Concerning this saint in our almanacs,
see vol. i. p. 380.

A SURPRISING CALCULATION.

For the Every-Day Book.
In the summer of 1825, a meeting was
held at Tunbridge in Kent, by some gen-
tlemen interested in the formation of a
rail road, in that neighbourhood ; at which
was a present a young gentleman well
known for astonishing celerity in resolving
difficult calculations by the aid of me-
mory alone. One of the company, a
great snuff-taker, and good mathemati-

397

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 21.

398

cian, proposed the following, (as he
thought,) puzzling question ;

" If I take so many (a given quantity)
of pinches of snuff every quarter of
an hour, how many pinches shall I have
taken in fifteen years?"

The young gentleman in little more
than a minute gave his answer.

The snuff-taker called for pen, ink, and
paper, to examine the answer, when after
a considerable time he declared it erro-
neous ; upon hearing which, the calcu-
lator asked the snuff-taker if he had al-
lowed for the leap-years ? being answered
in the negative, the snuff-taker was re-
quested to add them, when the calcula-
tor's answer was found to be correct to a
single pinch, to the no small astonish-
ment and delight of the assembled party.

A. S.

The preceding anecdote is wholly new,
and, after a " pinch of snuff," the editor
introduces a topic somewhat correspond-
ing.

" TOBACCO."
" Ex FUMO dare lucem."
To the Editor of the Every-Day Book.

Sir,

The use jf tobacco, " that stinking-
weed so much abused to God's disho-
nour," as Stow expresses himself, having
become so common, as to be almost
" naturalized on English ground ;" per-
haps a short article on the subject at this
seasonable period, may not be unaccept-
able to the numerous readers of the
Every-Day Book. Let me however be
understood in the outset.

I do not mean to write a historical
nor yet critical nor yet a poetical essay
on my subject no ! I merely wish to
" cull a few leaves" from the " fragrant
herb," and leave them for you to burn, or
your readers to cut up, or smoke, at their
good pleasure. Dropping all metaphor,
the subject is worth attention, and treated
with judgment, might be rendered highly
interesting. Resigning all pretension
however to that quality, 1 have merely
collected a few " passages," which, I
hope, will be considered worthy of a
place in your interesting miscellany.

" Commencing our commencement,"
says the old French proverb, my medical
dictionary, (Hooper's) has the following
under this head :

" Tobacco. See Nicotiana."

" Nicotiana. (From M. Nicot, who
first brought it into Europe.) Tobacco. 1 '

" 1st. The name of a genus of plants
in the Linnean system. Class Pentan-
dria ; order, Monogynia."

" 2nd. The former pharmacopaeial
name of the officinal tobacco," &c. &c.

Hooper 's Medical Dictionary,
4th edit. p. 594.

In that elegant work, " Flora Domes-
tica," the botanical summary says, this
genus is named from Jean Nicot of
Nismes, agent from the king of France to
Portugal, who procured the seeds from a
Dutchman, and sent them to France.
Tobacco, from the island Tobago. The
French have many names for it ; as, le
tabac : Nicotiane from its first introducer ;
petum [the original Indian appellation ;]
herbe du grand prieur ; herbe a la Reine ;
herbe sacrie ; herbe propre a tous maux ;
herbe de St. Croix ; &c. &c. Italian, ta-
bacco ; terna bona."

Flora Domestica, 1823. p. 365.

Of these names, the Italian one of
" terna bona," is very singular, and as
arbitrary as need be, for example, what
connection can there be between tobacco,
and the " grand prior," the " queen's,"
or the " holy cross ?" " Propre d tous
maux/' is rather too comprehensive an
appellation ; I have copied but few ot
these names, many as there may appear
to be.

Of all the subjects which have em-
ployed the pens of writers, perhaps no
one has called forth so great a diversity
of opinion as this ; and we may perhaps
go further, and say, that no other (save
only, love and war) has attracted so much
notice since its introduction. Popes,
poets, historians, kings, and physicians,
have dwelt upon its use and abuse, and
even historians have condescended to
mention it. But to proceed.

With regard to its first introduction into
England, Hume says, " chap. xli. Eliz.
1558, 1603," at the close of the narra-
tion of Drake's attack on the Spanish
provinces in the West Indies. " It is
thought that Drake's fleet first introduced
the use of tobacco into England."

In an after part of his work " Appendix,
James I. 1603-1625," he adds,

" After supplying themselves with pro-
visions more immediately necessary for
the support of life, the new planters began
the cultivating of tobacco ; and James
notwithstanding his antipathy to that
drug, which he affirmed to be pernicious

399

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK MARCH 21.

400

to men's morals as well as health, gave
them permission to enter it in England ;
and he inhibited by proclamation all im-
portation of it from Spain."

At this period originated the story of
the wetting poor sir Walter Raleigh, re-
ceived from the hands (and bucket) of
his servant ; this, however, is too common
to deserve transferring to your pages.
The following facts, however, are not so
generally known. " On the first intro-
duction of tobacco, our ancestors carried
its use to an enormous excess, smoking
even in the churches, which made pope
Urban VIII. in 1624, publish a decree
of excommunication against those who
used such an unseemly practice; and
Innocent XII. A.D. 1690, solemnly excom
municated all those who should take
snuff or tobacco, in St. Peter's church at
Rome." Flora Domestica, p. 367.

This excess is perhaps only equalled
by the case of William Breedon, vicar
of Thornton, Bucks, " a profound
divine, but absolutely the most polite per-
son for nativities in that age ;" of whom
William Lilly, " student in astrology,"
says, " when he had no tobacco, (and I
suppose too much drink,) he would cut
the bell ropes and smoke them." His-
tory of Lilly's Life and Times, p. 44.*

To the eulogist of tobacco, who, on
column 195 of your present volume, defies
" all daintie meats," and

" Keeps his kitchen in a box,

And roast meat in a pipe,"

take as an antidote the following from
Peter Hausted's Raphael Thorius : Lon-
don, 1551.

Let it be damn'd to Hell, and call'd from

thence,

Proserpine's wine, the Furies' frankincense,
The Devil's addle eggs.

Little tube of mighty power,
Charmer of an idle hour,
Object of my warm desire }
Lip of wax, and eye of fire ;
- And thy snowy taper waist,
With my finger gently brac'd ; &c.

In our own times the following have
appeared.

" La Pipe de Tabac," a French song to
music, by Geweaux, contains the follow-
ing humorous stanzas :

" Le soldat bailie sous la tente,

Le matelotsur le tillac,
Bientot ils ont 1'ame contente,

Avec la pipe de tabac;
Si pourtant survient une belle,

A Tinstant le cceurfait tic tac,
Etl'Amant oublie auprfes d'elle,

Jusqu'a la. pipe de tabac.

" Je tiens cette maxime utile,

De ce fameux Monsieur de Crac,
En campagne comme a la ville,

Font tous 1'amour et le tabac,
Quand ce grand homme allait en guerre

II portait dans son petit sac,
Le doux portrait de sa bergere,

Avec la pipe de tabac."

In the accompanying English version,
they are thus imitated :

See, content, the soldier smiling

Round the vet'ran smoking crew
And the tar, the time beguiling,

S'ghs and whiffs, and thinks of Sue.
Calm the bosom ; naught distresses ;

Labour's harvest's nearly ripe ;
* Susan's health ;' the brim he presses,

Here alone he quits his pipe.

Faithful still to every duty

Ne'er his faithful heart will roam ;
Mines of wealth, and worlds of beauty,

Tempt him not from Susan's home.
From his breast wherever steering,

Oft a sudden tear to wipe,
Susan's portrait, sorrow cheering,

First he draws and then his pipe !

Our immortal Byron, in his poem of
" The Island," sings thus the praises of
" the Indian weed :"

Hawkins Brown, esq., parodying Am-
brose Philips, writes thus prettily to his
pipe :

Sublime tobacco ! which from east to west
Cheers the tar's labours, or the Turkman's rest ,
Which on the Moslem's ottoman divides
His hours, and rivals opium and his brides ;
Magnificent in Stamboul, but less grand,
Though not less loved, in Wapping or the Strand ;

* " The following commendation of Lilly is inserted under a curious frontispiece to his 'Ammo
Afltrologise," 1676, " containing portraits of Cardan, (luido, and himself.
" Let Envy burst Vrania's glad to see
Her sons thus loyn'd in a Triplicity ;
To Cardan and to Guide much is due,
But in one Lilly wee hohold them Two."

401

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 22.

402

Divine in hookas, glorious in a pipe

When tipped with amber, mellow, rich, and ripe ;

Like other charmers, wooing the caress

More dazzlingly when daring in full dress ;

Yet thy true lovers more admire by far,

Thy naked beauties Give me a cigar !

If, Sir, you should deem this communi-
cation worthy of your notice, I shall feel
inclined to pursue my researches farther;
and, whatever the result, allow me in the
mean time to subscribe myself,

Your well-wisher,

FUMO.

P. S. Should you, Sir, burn this, the
Roman ad age, which I have used as my
motto, will be once more verified.

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature ... 43- 44.

22.

Passion Wednesday.

In 1826, this, being the Wednesday be-
fore Easter, called Passion Wednesday,
is celebrated with great solemnity in ca-
tholic countries. At Seville a white veil
conceals the officiating priest and minis-
ters, during mass, until the words in the
service " the veil of the temple was rent
in twain" are chaunted. At this moment
the veil disappears, as if by enchantment,
and the ears of the congregation are
stunned with the noise of concealed fire-
works, which are meant to imitate an
earthquake.

The evening service, named Tinieblas,
(darkness) is performed this day after sun-
set. The cathedral, on this occasion, ex-
hibits the most solemn and impressive
aspect. The high altar, concealed behind
dark grey curtains which fall from the
height of the cornices, is dimly lighted
by six yellow wax candles,while the gloom
of the whole temple is broken in large
masses by wax torches, fixed one on each
pillar of the centre aisle, about one-third
of its length from the ground. An ele-
gant candlestick of brass, from fifteen to
twenty feet high, is placed, on this and
the following evening, between the choir
and the altar, holding thirteen candles,
twelve of yellow, and one of bleached
wax, distributed on the two sides of the
triangle which* terminates the machine.
Each candle stands by a brass figure of
one of the apostles. The white candle
occupying the apex is allotted to the virgin

Mary. At the conclusion 01 each of the
twelve psalms appointed for the service,
one of the yellow candles is extinguished,
till, the white taper burning alone, it is
taken down and concealed behind the
altar. Immediately after the ceremony,
the Miserere, (Psalm 50.) set, every other
year, to a new strain of music, is sung in
a grand style. This performance lasts
exactly an hour. At the conclusion of
the last verse the clergy break up abruptly
without the usual blessing, making a thun-
dering noise by clapping their movable
seats against the frame of the stalls, or
knocking their ponderous breviaries
agains* the boards, as the rubric directs.*

CHRONOLOGY.

On the 22d of March, 1687, Jean
Baptiste Lully, the eminent musical com-
poser, died at Paris. He was born of ob-
scure parents at Florence, in 1634, and
evincing a taste for music, a benevolent
cordelier, influenced by no other consider-
ation than the hope of his becoming emi-
nent in the science, undertook to teach
him the guitar. While under his tuition,
a French gentleman, the chevalier Guise,
arrived at Florence, commissioned by
Mile, de Montpensier, niece to Louis
XIV., to bring her some pretty little
Italian boy as a page. The countenance
of Lully did not answer to the instructions,
but his vivacity, wit, and skill on an instru-
ment, as much the favourite of the French
as of the Italians, determined the chevalier
to send him to Paris. On his arrival, he
was presented to the lady ; but his figure
obtained for him so cool a reception, that
she commanded him to be entered in her
household books as an under-scullion.
Lully was at this time ten years old. In
the moments of his leisure from the
kitchen, he used to scrape upon a wretch-
ed fiddle. He was overheard by a per-
son about the court, who informed the
princess he had an excellent taste for
music, and a master was employed to
teach him the violin, under whom in the
course of a few months, he became so

* Doblado's Letter* from Spain.

403

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 22.

great a proficient, that he was elevated to
the rank of court-musician. In conse-
quence of an unlucky accident he was
dismissed from this situation ; but, obtain-
ing admission into the king's band of vio-
lins, he applied himself so closely to study,
that in a little time he began to compose.
His airs were noticed by theking,Lully was
sent for, and his performance of them was
thought so excellent, that a new band was
formed, called les petits violons, and un-
der his direction it surpassed the band of
twenty-four, till that time celebrated
throughout Europe. This was about
the year 1 660, when the favourite enter-
tainments at the French court were
dramatic representations, consisting of
dancing intermixed with singing and
speaking in recitative j they were called
ballets, and to many of them Lully was
employed in composing the music.

In 1669, an opera in the French lan-
guage, on the model of that at Venice,
being established at Paris, Lully obtained
the situation of composer and joint direc-
tor, left his former band, instituted one of
his own, and formed the design of build-
ing a new theatre near the Luxemburg
palace, which he accomplished, and
opened in November, 1670.

Previous to this, Lully, having been
appointed superintendent to the king's
private music, had neglected the practice
of the violin ; yet, whenever he could be
prevailed with to play, his excellence
astonished all who heard him.

In 1686, the king recovering from an
indisposition that threatened his life, Lully
composed a " Te Deum," which was not
more remarkable for its excellence, than
the unhappy accident with which its per-
formance was attended. In the prepara-
tions for the execution of it, and the more
to demonstrate his zeal, he himself beat
the time. With the cane that he used for
this purpose, he struck his foot, which
caused so much inflammation, that his
physician advised him to have his little toe
taken off; and, after a delay of some days,
his foot ; and at length the whole limb.
At this juncture, an empiric offered to
perform a cure without amputation. Two
thousand pistoles were promised him if
he should accomplish it, but his efforts
werp vain ; and Lully died.

Lully's confessor in his last illness re-
quired as a testimony of his sincere re-
pentance, and as the condition of his
absolution, that he should throw the last
of his operas into the fire. After some

excuses, Lully acquiesced, and pointing
to a drawer in which the rough draft of
" Achilles and Pollvenes" was deposited,
it was .taken out and burnt, and the con
fessor went away satisfied. Lully grew
better and was thought out of danger,
when one of the young princes came to
visit him : " What, Baptiste," says he to
him, " have you thrown your opera into
the fire ? You were a fool for thus giving
credit to a gloomy Jansenist, and burning
good music." " Hush ! hush ! my lord,"
answered Lully, in a whisper, " I knew
very well what I was about, I have ano-
ther copy of it !" This pleasantry was
followed by a relapse ; and the prospect
of inevitable death threw him into such
pangs of remorse, that he submitted to
be laid on ashes with a cord round his
neck ; and, in this situation, he chaunted a
deep sense of his late trangression.

Lully contributed greatly to the im-
provement of French music. In his
overtures he introduced fugues, and was
the first who, in the choruses, made use
of the side and kettle drums. It is diffi-
cult to characterize his style, which seems
to have been derived from no other
source than his own invention.

His compositions were chiefly operas
and other dramatic entertainments, adapt-
ed to the desires of Louis XIV., who
was fond of dancing, and had not taste
for any music but airs, in the composition
of which a stated number of bars was
the chief rule to be observed. Of har-
mony or fine melody, or of the relation
between poetry and music, he seems to
have had no conception ; and these were
restraints upon Lully's talents.

He is said to have been the inventor of
that species of composition, the overture;
for, though the symphonies or preludes
of Carissimi, Colonna, and others, are,
in effect, overtures, yet they were compo-
sitions of a mild and placid kind, while
Lully's are animated and full of energy.*

Notwithstanding the character of
Lully's compositions, when unrestricted
by the royal command and the bad taste
of the court, he was one day reproached
with having set nothing to music but
languid verses. He flew to his harpsi-
chord, and wildly running over the
keys, sung, with great violence of ges-
ture, the following terrific lines from
Racine's tragedy of " Iphigenie :"

* Bioprapli. Dictionary of Musicians.

405

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 23.

406

" Un pretre environne d'une foule cruelle
Porlera sur ma fille, une maine criminelle
Dechirera son sein, et d'un ceil curieux
t)ans son cceur palpitant consultera les
Dieux."

When cardinal d'Estrees was at Rome,
he highly praised Corelli's sonatas to that
eminent composer. " Sir," replied Co-
relli, "if they have any merit it is be-
cause I have studied Lully." Handel
has imitated Lully in many of his over-
tures. *

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature ... 42 79.

23.

MAUNDY THURSDAY.

Shere Thursday.

These denominations have been suffi-
ciently explained in vol. i. p. 400, with
an account of the Maundy at the chapel
royal St. James's. The Romish church this
day institutes certain ceremonies to com-
memorate the washing of the disciples'
feet.

Celebration of the day at Seville.

The particulars of these solemnities
are recorded by the rev. Blanco White.

The ceremonies of the high mass, are
especially intended as a remembrance of
the last supper, and the service, as it
proceeds, rapidly assumes the deepest
hues of melancholy. The bells, in every
steeple, from one loud and joyous peal,
cease at once, and leave a peculiar heavy
stillness, which none can conceive but
those who have lived in a populous
Spanish town long enough to lose the
sense of that perpetual tinkling which
agitates the ear during the day and great
part of the night.

In every church a " host," consecrated
at the mass, is carried with great solem-
nity to a temporary structure, called the
monument, which is erected with more or
less splendour, according to the wealth of
the establishment. It is there deposited
in a silver urn, generally shaped like a
sepulchre, the key of which, hanging
from a gold chain, is committed by the
priest to the care of a chief inhabitant of
the parish, who wears it round his neck
as a badge of honour, till the next morn-

* Seward

ing. The key of the cathedral monument
is intrusted to the archbishop, if present,
or to the dean in his absence.

The striking effect of the last-men-
tioned structure, the " monument" in the
cathedral, is not easily conceived. It
fills up the space between four arches of
the nave, rising in five bodies to the roof
of the temple. The columns of the two
lower tiers, which, like the rest of the
monument, imitate white marble filletted
with gold, are hollow, allowing the nu-
merous attendants who take care of the
lights that cover it from the ground to the
very top, to do their duty during four-
and-twenty hours, without any disturb-
ance or unseemly bustle. More than
three thousand pounds of wax, besides
one hundred and sixty silver lamps, are
employed in the illumination.

The gold casket set with jewels, which
contains the host, lies deposited 'in ar.
elegant temple of massive silver, weigh-
ing five hundred and ten marks, which is
seen through a blaze of light on the pedi-
ment of the monument, Two members
of the chapter in their choral robes, and
six inferior priests in surplices, attend 0:1
their knees before the shrine, till they are
relieved by an equal number of the same
classes at the end of every hour. This
adoration is performed without interrup-
tion from the moment of depositing the
host in the casket till that of taking it
out the next morning. The cathedral,
as well as many others of the wealthiest
churches, are kept open and illuminated
the whole night.

One of the public sights of the town,
on this day, is the splendid cold dinner
which the archbishop gives to twelve
paupers, in commemoration of the
apostles. The dinner is to be seen laid
out on tables filling up two large rooms in
the palace. The twelve guests are com-
pletely clothed at the expense of their
host ; and having partaken of a more
homely dinner in the kitchen, they are
furnished with large baskets to take away
the splendid commons allotted to each in
separate dishes, which they sell to the
gourmands of the town. Each, besides,
is allowed to dispose of his napkin,
curiously made up into the figure of some
bird or quadruped, which people buy
as ornaments to their china cupboards,
and as specimens of the perfection to
which some of the poorer nuns have car-
ried the art of plaiting.

At two in the afternoon, the archbishop,

-tor

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 23.

4oa

attended by his cbapter, repairs to tbe
catbedral, where be performs tbe cere-
mony, which, from the notion of its being
literally enjoined by our saviour, is called
the mandatum. The twelve paupers are
seated on a platform erected befoie the
high altai, and the prelate, stripped of his
silk robes, and kneehng successively be-
fore each, washes their feet in a large
silver bason.

About this time the processions, known
by the name of cofracTias, (confraterni-
ties^ begin to move out of the different
churches to which they are attached. The
head of tbe police appoints the hour
when each of these pageants is to appear
in the square of the town hall, and the
audiencia or court of justice. From
thence their route to the cathedral, and
out of it, to a certain point, is the same
for all. These streets are lined by two
rows of spectators of the lower classes,
the windows being occupied by those of
a higher rank. An order is previously
published by the town-crier, directing
the inhabitants to decorate their windows,
which they do by hanging out the showy
silk and chintz counterpanes of their
beds. As to the processions themselves,
except one which has the privilege of
parading the town in the dead of night,
they have little to attract the eye or affect
the imagination. Their chief object is to
convey groups of figures, as large as life,
representing different scenes of our
saviour's passion.

There is something remarkable in the
established and characteristic marks of
some figures. The Jews are distinguished
by long aquiline noses. Saint Peter is
completely bald. The dress of the
apostle John is green, and that of Judas
Iscariot yellow ; and so intimately asso-
ciated is this circumstance with the idea
of the traitor, that it has brought that
colour into universal discredit. It is
probably from this circumstance, (though
yellow may have been allotted to Judas
from some more ancient prejudice,) that
the inquisition has adopted it for the
sanbenito, or coat of infamy, which per-
sons convicted of heresy are compelled
to wear. The red hair of Judas, like
Peter's baldness, seems to be agreed upon
by all the painters and sculptors in
Europe. Judas' hair is a usual name in
Spain; and a similar application, it
should seem, was used in England in
Shakspeare's time. "His hair," says
Rosalind, in As you like it, " is of the

dissembling colour :" to which Celia
answers " Something browner than
Judas's."

The midnight procession derivea con-
siderable effect from the stillness of the
hour, and the dress of the attendants on
the sacred image. None are admitted to
this religious act but the members of that
fraternity ; generally young men of
fashion. They all appear in a black
tunic, with a broad belt so contrived as to
give the idea of a long rope tied tight
round the body ; a method of penance
commonly practised in former times. The
face is covered with a long black veil,
falling from a sugar-loaf cap three feet
high. Thus arrayed, the nominal peni-
tents advance, with silent and measured
steps, in two lines, dragging a train six
feet long, and holding aloft a wax-candle
of twelve pounds, which they rest upon
the hip-bone, holding it obliquely towards
the vacant space between them. The
veils, being of the same stuff with the
cap and tunic, would absolutely impede
the sight but for two small holes through
which the eyes are seen to gleam, adding
no small effect to the dismal appearance
of such strange figures. The pleasure of
appearing in a disguise, in a country
where masquerades are not tolerated by
the government, is a great inducement,
to the young men for subscribing to this
religious association. The disguise, it is
true, does not in the least relax the rules
of strict decorum which the ceremony re-
quires ; yet the mock penitents think
themselves repaid for the fatigue and
trouble of the night by the fresh impres-
sion which they expect to make on the
already won hearts of their mistresses,
who, by preconcerted signals, are enabled
to distinguish their lovers, in spite of the
veils and the uniformity of the dresses.

It is scarcely forty years since the dis-
gusting exhibition of people streaming in
their own blood, was discontinued by an
order of the government. These peni-
tents were generally from among the
most debauched and abandoned of the
lower classes. They appeared in white
linen petticoats, pointed white caps and
veils, and a jacket of the same colour,
which exposed their naked shoulders to
view. Having, previous to their joining
the procession, been scarified on the
back, they beat themselves with a cat-o'-
nine-tails, making the blood run down to
the skirts of their garment. It may be
easily conceived that religion had no

409

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 24.

410

share in these voluntary inflictions. They tarry away what they cannot eat,
There was a notion afloat, that this act of and receive a small present in money
penance had on excellent effect on the besides."*

constitution.*

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature ... 43 15

The pope commemorates the washing
of the disciples' feet by officiating in per-
son. A modern traveller who was pre-
sent at the ceremony says, " There were
thirteen instead of twelve ; the one being
the representative of the angel that once
came to the table of twelve that St. Gre-
gory was serving. The twelve were old
priests, but the one who performed the
part of the angel was very young. They
were all dressed in loose white gowns,
and white caps on their heads, and clean
woollen stockings, and were seated in a
row along the wall, under a canopy.
When the pope entered and took h s seat
at the top of the room, the whole com-
pany of them knelt in their places, turn-
ing towards him ; and on his hand being
extended in benediction, they all rose
again and reseated themselves. The
splendid garments of the pope were then
taken off; and clad in a white linen robe
which he had on under the others, and
wearing the bishop's mitre instead of the
tiara, he approached the pilgrims, took
from an attendant cardinal a silver bucket
of water, knelt before the first of them,
immersed one foot in the water, put
water over it with his hand, and touched
it with a square fringed cloth; kissed
the leg, and gave the cloth, and a sort of
white flower or feather, to the man ; then
went on to the next. The whole cere-
mony was over, I think, in less than two
minutes, so rapidly was this act of hu-
mility gone through. From thence the
pope returned to his throne, put on his
robes of white and silver again, and pro-
ceeded to the Sala di Tavola : the thir-
teen priests were seated in a row at thjs
table, which was spread with a variety of
dishes, and adorned with a profusion of
flowers. The pope gave the blessing,
and walking along the side of the table
opposite to them, handed each of them
bread, then plates, and lastly, cups of
wine. They regularly all rose up to re-
ceive what he presented ; and the pope
having gone through the forms of service,
and given them his parting benediction,
left them to finish their dinner in peace.

GOOD FRIDAY.

This annual commemoration is the
only one observed in England, with the
exception of Christmas, by the suspension
of all business, and the closing of shops.
The late bishop Porteus having particu-
larly insisted on this method of keeping
Good Friday, the reverend Robert Robin-
son of Cambridge wrote a remarkable
pamphlet, entitled, "The History and
Mystery of Good Friday," wherein he
urges various statements and arguments
against the usage. This tract has been
published from time to time by Mr.
Benjamin Flower. The controversy is
referred to, because the writings of the
bishop and his opponent state the grounds
on both sides. It is to be remarked
likewise, that several dissenters openly
engage in their usual avocations, contrary
to the general practice, which does not
appear to be enforced by the church of
England, farther than by notices through
the parochial beadle and other officers.

Hot-cross Buns.

On the popular cry of " hot-cross
buns," and the custom of eating them
to-day, there are particulars in vol. i. p.
402 ; and in the illustration of the
ancient name and use of the bun, a few
interesting passages are added. "The
offerings which people in ancient times
used to present to the gods, were gene-
rally purchased at the entrance of the
temple ; especially every species of con-
secrated bread, which was denominated
accordingly. One species of sacred
bread which used to be offered to the
gods, was of great antiquity, and called
boun. The Greeks, who changed the nu
final into a sigma, expressed it in the
nominative Bow, but in the accusative
more truly boun, Bow. Hesychius speaku
of the boun, and describes it a kind of
cake with a representation of two horns.
Julius Pollux mentions it after the same
manner, a sort of cake with horns.
Diogenes Laertius, speaking of the same
offering being made by Empeiocles, de-

* Rome in the Nineteenth Century.

411

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK, MARCH 24.

scribes the chief ingredients of which it St. Bridget, they being desirous to know
was composed : ' he offered up one of something in particular of the blessed
1 libra, called a boun, "'

the sacred libra, called a boun, which
was made of fine flour and honey.' It
is said of Cecrops, he first offered up this
sort of sweet bread. Hence we may judge
of the antiquity of the custom, from the
times to which Cecrops is referred. The
prophet Jeremiah takes notice of this
kind of offering when he is speaking of
the Jewish women at Pathros, in Egypt,
and of their base idolatry ; in all which
their husbands had encouraged them :
the women, in their expostulation upon
his rebuke, tell him, * Did we make her
cakes to worship her?'&c. Jer. xliv. 18,
19. Ib. vii. 18.*"

Irish Custom.

In the midland districts of Ireland, viz.
the province of Connaught, on Good
Friday, it is a common practice with the
lower orders of Irish catholics to prevent
their young from having any sustenance,
even to those at the breast, from twelve
on the previous night to twelve on Friday
night, and the fathers and mothers will
only take a small piece of dry bread and
a draught of water during the day. It is
a common sight to see along the roads
between the different market towns, num-
bers of women with their hair dishevelled,
barefooted, and in their worst garments ;
all this is in imitation of Christ's passion .f

In Ireland, as a catholic country, ex-
cessive attention prevails to the remark-
able instances in the passion of Christ,
which terminated in the crucifixion ; and
a revelation from Christ himself, to three
nuns canonized by the Romish church,
has been devised to heighten the fervour
of the ignorant. The Irish journals of
mo, contain the copy of a singular
paper said to have been sold to devotees
at a high price, viz.

I
HOLY

JUBILEE, 1770.

''This revelation was made by themouth
of our Lord Jesus Christ, to those three
saints, viz. St. Elizabeth, St. Clare, and

* Bryanf a Analysis,
t Communicated by T. A.

passion of our Lord and Saviour Jesus
Christ.

" First, I received 30 cuffs ; 2dly, when
I was apprehended in the garden, I re-
ceived 40 blows: 3dly, I journeying to
Annas's house, got 7 falls : 4thly, they
gave me 444 blows of whips upon my
shoulders : 5thly, they raised me up from
the ground, by the hair of the head, 330
times : Gthly, they gave me 30 blows
against my teeth : 7thly, I have breathed
8888 sighs: 8thly, they drew me by my
beard 35 times: 9thly, I received one
mortal wound at the foot of the cross :
10th, 666 blows they gave me when I
was bound to the pillar of stone : llth,
they set a crown of thorns upon my head :
12th, they have spitted at me 63 times :
13th, the soldiers gave me 88 blows of
whips : 14th, they gave me gall and
vinegar to drink : 15th, when I" hanged
on the cross I received five mortal wounds.
" All men or women that will say seven
paters, seven aves, and a creed daily, in
honour of the blessed passion of our Lord
and Saviour Jesus Christ, for the space of
15 years, they shall obtain five graces :
first, they shall receive plenary indulgence
and remission of their sins ; 2dly, they
will not suffer the pains of purgatory;
3dly, if it happen that they die before 15
years be ended, they shall obtain grace as
well as if they had suffered martyrdom ;
4thly, in point of death, I will not come
myself alone, to receive his own soul, but
also his parents, if they be in purgatory;
finally, I will convert them into everlast-
ing bliss.

" This revelation hath those virtues, that
whosoever shall carry it about him, shall
be free from his enemies, neither will he
die of any sudden d eath ; and if there be
any woman with child, that carry this
revelation about her, she shall feel no pain
in child-birth ; and in whatsoever part of
the house this revelation shall lye, it shall
not be infected with any contagious dis-
eases, or any other evil : and whosoever
shall carry it about him, the glorious vir-
gin Mary will show herself to him 46 days
before his death."

413

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 24.

414

The custom of preaching at St. Paul's
cross on Good Friday and other holidays,
and some account of the cross itself is
communicated in the following letter of a
correspondent, who will be recognised by
his initials to have been a contributor of
former interesting articles.

To the Editor of the Every-Day Book.
Kennington, March 10, 1826.

Sir, The following account of a ser-
mon, annually preached on Good Friday
at St. Paul's cross, with a brief notice of
that structure, will I hope be considered
worthy preservation in your valuable mis-
cellany.

It was, for a considerable period, a cus-
tom on Good Friday in the afternoon, for
some learned man, by appointment of
the bishop, to preach a sermon at Paul's
cross, which was situated in the midst of
the churchyard on the north side towards
the east end. The sermon generally
treated of Christ's passion ; and upon the
ensuing Monday, Tuesday, and Wednes-
day in Easter week, other learned men
used to preach in a similar pulpit, at the
Spital, now the Old Artillery Ground,
Spitalfields ; the subject of their discourse
was the articles of Christ's resurrection.
Then, on Low Sunday, another divine was
at Paul's cross, to make a rehearsal of the
four former sermons, either commending
or disproving them as in his judgment he
thought fit ; all this done, (which by the
by was no easy task,) he was to make a
sermon himself, which in all were five
sermons in one. At these sermons, so
severally preached, the mayor, with his
brethren the aldermen,were accustomed to
be present in their " violets," at St. Paul's
on Good Friday, and in their " scarlets,"
both they and their ladies, at the Spital,
in the holidays, except Wednesday in
violet; and the mayor, with his brethren,
on Low Sunday, in scarlet, at Paul's cross.
Since the Restoration these sermons were
continued, by the name of the Spital ser-
mons, at St. Bride's, with the like so-
lemnity, on Easter Monday, Tuesday,
and Wednesday, every year.

Respecting the antiquity of this custom,
I learn from Maitland, that, in the year
1398, king Richard having procured from
Rome confirmation of such statutes and
ordinances as were made in the parlia-
ment begun at Westminster and ended at
Shrewsbury, he caused the same confirma-
tion to be read and pronounced at Paul's
cross, and at St. Maty, Spital, in the ser-
mons before all the people. Philip Mai-

pas, one of the sheriffs, in the year 1439,
the eighteenth of Henry VII., gave twenty
shillings a year to the three preachers at
the Spital. Stephen Foster, mayor, in the
year 1454, gave forty shillings to the
preachers of Paul's cross and Spital. Op-
posite the pulpit at the Spital, was a
handsome house of two stories high, for
the mayor, aldermen, sheriffs, and other
persons of distinction, to sit in, to hear
the sermons preached in the Easter holi-
days ; in the part above, stood the bishop
of London and other prelates.

In foul and rainy weather, these solemn
sermons were preached in a place called
the shrowds, which was by the side of
the cathedral church under covering, but
open in front. Ellis's St. Paul's Cathe-
dral, p. 52.

For the maintenance of these St. Paul's
cross sermons, many of the citizens were
liberal benefactors ; as Aylmer, bishop of
London, the countess dowager of Shrews-
bury, Thomas Russell, George Bishop,
who gave ten pounds a year, &c. ; and for
further encouragement of those preachers,
in the year 1607, the lord mayor and
court of aldermen then ordered, " that
every one that should preach there, con-
sidering the journies some of them might
lake from the universities, or elsewhere,
should at his pleasure be freely enter-
tained, for five days space, with sweet and
convenient lodging, fire, candle, and all
other necessaries, viz. from Thursday be-
fore their day of preaching, to Thursday
morning following." This provision had
a good effect, and the custom continued
for some time, added to which the bishop
of London, or his chaplain, when he
sent to any one to preach, signified the
place whither he might sojourn at his
coming up, and be entertained freely.
Towards this charge of the city, George
Palin, a merchant of London, gave two
hundred pounds to defray expenses.

At some future time a few observations
on crosses will be introduced ; at present
I shall confine myself to the history of St
Paul's cross, which was used, not only
for the instruction of mankind by the
doctrine of the preacher, but for every
purpose, political or ecclesiastical; for
giving force to oaths ; for promulgating
laws; or rather, the royal pleasure ; for
the emission of papal bulls ; for anathe-
matizing sinners; for benedictions; for
exposing penitents under censure of the
church ; for recantations ; for the private
ends of the ambitious ; and for defaming

415

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 24.

416

those who had incurred the displeasure
of the crown. Pennant, 4to. 394.

To enter minutely into all the events

and difficulty, added to which, space
could not be well spared in a work o<
the present nature. I shall therefore

connected with the history of this cross only notice some of the most remarkable
would be a work of considerable labour that occur in history.

>*rmim at

This cross was strongly built of timber,
mounted upon steps of stone, and covered
with lead. The earliest mention of
it occurs in the year 1259, when king
Henry III. commanded a general assem-
bly to be made at the cross, where he in
person commanded the mayor that on the
morrow he should cause to be sworn be-
fore the alderman, every youth of twelve
years of age or upward, to be true to the
king and his heirs kings of England. In
the same year Henry III. caused to be
read at this cross a bull obtained from
pope Urban IV. as an absolution for him
and for all that were sworn to maintain
the articles made in the parliament at
Oxford. In the year 1299, the dean of

St. Paul's cursed at the cross all those
which had searched in the church of St.
Martin in the Fields for a hoard of gold,
&c.

This pulpit cross was by tempest of
lightning and thunder, much defaced
Thomas Kempe, bishop of London, from
28 Hen. VI. to 5 Hen. VII., new built
the pulpit and cross.

The following is curious :

"On the 8th day of March, 1555,
while a doctor preached at the cross, a
man did penance for transgressing Lent,
holding two pigs ready drest, whereof
one was upon his head, having brought
them to sell." [Strypes Ecclesiastical
Memorials.}

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THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 24.

413

Before this cross, in 1483, was brought,
divested of all her splendour, Jane Shore,
the charitable, the merry concubine of
Edward IV., and after his death, of his
favourite the unfortunate lord Hastings.
After the loss of her protectors, she fell a
victim to the malice of the crook-backed
tyrant Richard III. He was disappointed
(by her excellent defence) of convicting
her of witchcraft, and confederating with
her lover to destroy him. He then at-
tacked her on the side of frailty. This
was undeniable. He consigned her to
the severity of the church : she was
carried to the bishop's palace, clothed in
a white sheet, with a taper in her hand,
and from thence conducted to the cathe-
dral, and the cross, before which she made
a confession of her only fault. " In her
penance she went," says Holinshed, " in
countenance and pase demure, so wo-
manlie, that albeit she were out of all
araie, save her kiitle onlie, yet went she
so faire and lovelie, namelie, while the
woondering of the people cast a cbmelie
rud in hir cheeks (of whiche she before
had most misse), that hir great shame
was hir much praise among those that
were more amorous of hir bodie than
curious of hir soule. And manie good
folkes that hated hir living (and glad
were to see sin corrected), yet pitied they
more hir penance than rejoised therin,
when they considered that the Protector
procured it more of a corrupt intent, than
anie virtuous affection." \_Hardyng 's
Chron. 4to. Lond. 1812. p. 499.] She
lived to a great age, but in great distress
and poverty ; deserted even by those to
whom she had, during prosperity, done
the most essential services.

In 1538, " The 24th of February being
Sunday, the Rood of Boxeley, in Kent,
called the * Rood of Grace,' made with
divers vices, to move the eyes and lips,
was shewed at Pawle's Cross by the
preacher, which was the bishop of Ro-
chester, and there it was broken and
plucked to pieces." [Stow's Annals,
p. 575.]

"On the 17th of November, 1595, a
day of great triumph for the long and
prosperous raigne of her majestic (queen
Elizabeth) at London, the pulpit crosse in
Pawle's churchyard was new repayred,
painted, and partly inclosed with a wal
of bricke : Doctour Fletcher, bishop of
London, preached there in prayse of the
queene, and prayer for her majestie, be-
fore the lord mayor, aldermen, and citi-

VOL. II. 66.

zens, in their best liveries. Which sermon
being ended, upon the church leades
the trumpets sounded, the cornets winded,
and the quiristers sung an antheme. On
the steeple many lights were burned : the
Tower shot off her ordinance, the bels
were rung, bonefires made," &c. [Stow'*
Annals, p. 770.]

Pennant says, the last sermon which
was preached at this place was before
James I., who came in great state from
Whitehall, on Midlent Sunday, 1620 ;
but Mr. Ellis, the learned and inde-
fatigable editor of the new edition of
Dugdale's " History of St. Paul's Cathe-
dral," says, there is a sermon in print,
entitled, " The White Wolfe, preached at
Paul's Crosse, February 11, 1627;" and
according to the continuator of " Stow's
Annals," Charles I., on the 30th of May,
1630, having attended divine service in
the cathedral, ' went into a roome, and
heard the sermon at Paule's Crosse."
[Stow's Annals, p. 1045.]

Thus this cross stood till it was demo-
lished, in 1643, by order of parliament,
executed by the willing hands of Isaac
Pennington, the fanatical lord mayor of
London for that year, who died in the
Tower a convicted regicide.

The engraving at the head of this arti-
cle is from a drawing in the Pepysian
library, and appears to have been the
same that was erected circa 1450.

There is a large painting of this cross
as it appeared on Sunday, 26th of March,
1620, when king James I., his queen,
Charles, prince of Wales, Jhe archbishop
of Canterbury, &c. attended with their
court. It has been engraved in Wilkin-
son's " Londina Illustrata."

I am, Sir, &c. &c.

T. A.

Good Friday at Lisbon.
To a protestant, the observance of this
holiday in catholic countries is especially
remarkable. In 1768, the late rev.
George Whitefield published "An Account
of some Lent and other Extraordinary
Processions and Ecclesiastical Entertain-
ments seen at Lisbon ; in four Letters to
an English Friend." Very early in the
morning of Good Friday, he had gone on
board a vessel at Bellem for the purpose
of sailing, but the wind dying away he
returned ashore. " But how was the
scene changed ! Before, all used to be
noise and hurry ; now all was hxished and
shut up in the most awful and profound

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THE EVERY-DAY BOOK MARCH 24

420

silence. No clock or bell had been heard
since yesterday noon, and scarce a person
was to be seen in the street all the way
to Lisbon. About two in the afternoon
we got to the place where (I had heard
some days ago) an extraordinary scene
was to be exhibited : it was ' the cruci-
fixion of the Son of God, represented
partly by dumb images, and partly by
living persons, in a large church belonging
to the convent of St. De Beato.' Several
thousands crowded into it, some of which,
as I was told, had been waiting there ever
since six in the morning. I was admitted,
and very commodiously situated to view
the whole performance. We had not waited
long before the curtain was drawn up.
Immediately, upon a high scaffold, hung
in the front with black baize, and behind
with silk purple damask laced with gold,
was exhibited to our view an image of the
Lord Jesus, at full length, crowned with
thorns, and nailed on a cross, between
two figures of like dimensions, represent-
ing the two thieves. At a little distance
on the right hand was placed an image of
the virgin Mary, in plain long ruffles,
and a kind of widow's weeds. The veil
was purple silk, and she had a wire glory
round her head. At the foot of the cross
lay, in a mournful pensive posture, a
living man dressed in woman's clothes,
who personated Mary Magdalen ; and
not far off stood a young man, in imitation
of the beloved disciple. He was dressed
in a loose green silk vesture and bob-wig.
His eyes were fixed on the cross, and his
two hands a little extended. On each
side, near the front of the stage, stood
two sentinels in buff, with formidable
caps and long beards; and directly in
the front stood another yet more for-
midable, with a large target in his hand.
We may suppose him to be the Roman
centurion. To complete the scene, from
behind the purple hangings came out
about twenty little purple-vested winged
boys, two by two, each bearing a lighted
wax taper in his hand, and having a crim-
son and gold cap on his head. At their
entrance upon the stage, they gently
bowed their heads to the spectators, then
kneeled and made obeisance, first to the
image on the cross, and then to that of the
virgin Mary. When risen, they bowed
to each other, and then took their re-
spective places over against one another,
on steps assigned for them on the front of
the stage. Opposite to this, at a few
Cards' distance, stood a black friar in a

pulpit hung with mourning. For a
while he paused, and then breaking
silence, gradually raised his voice till it
was extended to a pretty high pitch,
though I think scarcely high enough for
so large an auditory. After he had pro-
ceeded in his discourse about a quarter
of an hour, a confused noise was heard
near the great front door; and turning
my head, I saw four long-bearded men,
two of whom carried a ladder on their
shoulders ; and after them followed two
more, with large gilt dishes in their
hands, full of linen, spices, &c. ; these,
as I imagined, were the representatives of
Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimatlian,
On a signal given from the pulpit, they
advanced towards the steps of the scaf-
fold ; but, upon their first attempting to
mount it, at the watchful centurion's nod,
the observant soldiers nade a pass at
them, and presented 1*2 points of their
javelins directly to their breasts. They
are repulsed. Upon this, a letter from
Pilate is produced. The centurion reads
it, shakes his head, and with looks that
bespoke a forced compliance, beckons the
sentinels to withdraw their arms. Leave
being thus obtained, they ascend; and
having paid their homage by kneeling
first to the image on the cross and then to
the virgin Mary, they retired to the back
of the stage. Still the preacher continued
declaiming, or rather, as was said, ex-
plaining the mournful scene. Magdalen
persists in wringing her hands, and
variously expressing her personated sor-
row ; while John (seemingly regardless of
all besides) stood gazing on the crucified
figure. By this time it was nearly three
o'clock, and the scene was drawing to a
close. The ladders are ascended, the
superscription and crown of thorns taken
off; long white rollers put round the
arms of the image; and then the nails
knocked out which fastened the hands
and feet. Here Mary Magdalen looks
most languishing, and John, if possible,
stands more thunderstruck than before.
The orator lifts up his voice, and almost
all the hearers expressed their concern by
weeping, beating their breasts, and
smiting their cheeks. At length the body
is gently let down ; Magdalen eyes it,
and gradually rising, receives the feet
into her wide spread handkerchief; while
John (who hitherto had stood motionless
like a statue), as the body came nearer
the ground, with an eagerness that be-
spoke the intense affection of a sym-

1HE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 24.

422

pathizing friend, runs towards the cross,
seizes the upper part of it into his clasp-
ing arms, and, with his disguised fellow-

here the play should end, was I not afraid
that you would be angry with me if I
did not give you an account of the last
act, by telling you what became of the
corpse after it was taken down. Great
preparations were made for its interment.
It was wrapped in linen and spices, &c.
and being laid upon a bier richly hung,
was carried round the churchyard in
grand procession. The image of the
virgin Mary was chief mourner; and
John and Magdalen, with a whole troop
of friars with wax tapers in their hands,
followed Determined to see the whole,
I waited its return, and in about a
quarter of an hour the corpse was
brought in, and deposited in an open
sepulchre prepared for the purpose ; but
not before a priest, accompanied by
several of the same order, in splendid
vestments, had perfumed it with incense,
sang to, and kneeled before it. John and
Magdalen attended the obsequies, but the
image of the virgin Mary was carried
away, and placed in the front of the
stage, in order to be kissed, adored, and
worshipped by the people. And thus
ends this Good Friday s tragi-comical,
superstitious, idolatrous droll. I am well
aware that the Romanists deny the charge
of idolatry ; but after having seen what I
have seen this day, as well as at sundry
other times since my arrival here, I can-
not help thinking but a person must be
capable of making more than metaphy-
sical distinctions, and deal in very ab-
stract ideas indeed, fairly to evade the
charge."

Good Friday at Seville.
The rev. Blanco White relates the cele-
bration of the day at Seville in the follow-
ing terms :

The altars, which, at the end of yes-
terday's mass, were publicly and solemnly
stripped of their clothes and rich table-
hangings by the hands of the priest,
appear in the same state of distressed
negligence. No musical sound is heard,
except the deep-toned voices of the psalm,
or plain chant singers. After a few pre-
paratory prayers, and the dramatized

crosses, has for the last two weeks of
Lent been covered with a purple veil, and
standing towards the people, before the

mourner, helps to bear it away. And middle of the altar, gradually uncovers

the sacred emblem, which both the clergy
and laity worship upon their knees. The
prelate is then unshod by the assistant
ministers, and taking the cross upon his
right shoulder, as our saviour is repre-
sented by painters on his way to Calvary,
he walks alone from the altar to the en-
trance of the presbytery or chancel, and
lays his burden upon two cushions. After
this, he moves back some steps, and
approaching the cross with three prostra-
tions, kisses it, and drops an oblation of
a piece of silver into a silver dish. The
whole chapter, ha.ving gone through the
same ceremony, form themselves in two
lines, and repair to the monument, from
whence the officiating priest conveys the
deposited host to the altar, where he com-
municates upon it without consecrating
any wine. Here the service terminates
abruptly ; all candles and lamps are
extinguished ; and the tabernacle, which
throughout the year contains the sacred
wafers, being left open, every object be-
speaks the desolate and widowed state of
the church from the death of the saviour
to his resurrection.

The ceremonies of Good Friday being
short, and performed at an early hour,
both the gay and the devout would be at
a loss how to spend the remainder of the
day but for the grotesque passion sermons
of the suburbs and neighbouring villages,
and the more solemn performance known
by the name of Tres Horas, three hours.
The practice of continuing in medita-
tion from twelve to three o'clock of this
day, the time which our saviour is sup-
posed to have hung on the cross, was
introduced by the Spanish Jesuits, and
partakes of the impressive character which
the members of that order had the art to
impart to the religious practices by which
they cherished the devotional spirit of
the people. The church where the three
hours are kept is generally hung in black,
and made impervious to daylight. A
large crucifix is seen on the high altar,
under a black canopy, with six unbleached
wax candles, which cast a sombre glim-

t ., , mering on the rest of the church. The

history of the passion, already described, females of all ranks occupy, as usual, the
the officiating priest (the archbishop at centre of the nave, squatting or kneel-
the cathedral), in a plain albe or white ing on the matted ground, and adding
tunic, takes up a wooden cross six or to the dismal appearance of the scene
seven feet high, which, like all other by the colour of their veils and dresses

423

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK MARCH 24.

424

Just as the clock strikes twelve, a
priest in his cloak and cassock ascends
the pulpit, and delivers a preparatory
address of his own composition. He
then reads the printed meditations on the
seven words, or sentences, spoken by
jesus on the cross, allotting to each such
a portion of time a-? that, with the inter-
ludes of music which follow each of the
readings, the whole may not exceed three
hours. The music is generally good and
appropriate, and ifa sufficient band can
be collected, well repays to an amateur
the inconvenience of a crowded church,
where, from the want cf seats, the male
part of the congregation are obliged either
to stand or kneel. It is, in fact, one of
the best works of Haydn, composed a
short time ago for some gentlemen of
Cadiz, who showed both their taste and
liberality in thus procuring this master-
piece of harmony for the use of their
country. It has been lately published in
Germany under the title of the " Sette
Parole/'

Every part of the performance is so
managed, that the clock strikes three
about the end of the meditation, on the
words, It is finished. The picture of the
expiring saviour, powerfully drawn by
the original writer of the Tres Horas, can
hardly fail to strike the imagination when
listened to under the influence of such
music and scenery ; and when, at the
first stroke of the clock, the priest rises
from his seat, and in a loud and impas-
sioned voice, announces the consumma-
tion of the awful and mysterious sacrifice,
on whose painful and bloody progress
the mind has been dwelling so long, few
hearts can repel the impression, and still
fewer eyes can conceal it. Tears bathe
every cheek, and sobs heave every female
bosom. After a parting address from the
pulpit, the ceremony concludes with a
piece of music, where the powers of the
great composer are magnificently dis-
played in the imitation of the disorder
and agitation of nature which the evan-
gelists relate.

The passion sermons for the populace
might be taken for a parody of the three
burs. They are generally delivered in
Jie open air, by friars of the Mendicant
orders, in those parts of the city and
suburbs which are chiefly, if not exclu-
sively, inhabited by the lower classes.
Such gay young men, however, as do not
scruple to relieve the dulness of Good
Friday with a ride, and feel no danger of

exposing themselves by any unseasonable
laughter, indulge not unfrequently in the
frolic of attending one of the most com-
plete and perfect seimons of this kind at
the neighbouring village of Castilleja.

A movable pulpit is placed before the
church door, from which a friar, possessed
of a stentorian voice, delivers an improved
history of the passion, such as was re-
vealed to St. Bridget, a Franciscan nun,
who, from the dictation of the virgin
Mary, has left us a most minute and cir-
cumstantial account of the life and death
of Christ and his mother. This yearly
narrative, however, would have lost most
of its interest but for the scenic illustra-
tions, which keep up the expectation and
rivet the attention of the audience. It
was formerly the custom to introduce a
living saint Peter a character which be-
longed by a natural and inalienable right
to the baldest head in the village who
acted the apostle's denial, swearing by
Christ, he did not know the man. This
edifying part of the performance is omitted
at Castilleja; though a practised performer
crows with such a shrill and natural note
as must be answered with challenge by
every cock of spirit in the neighbourhood.
The flourish of a trumpet announces, in
the sequel, the publication of the sentence
passed by the Roman governor ; and the
town ciier delivers it with legal precision,
in the manner it is practised in Spain be-
fore an execution. Hardly has the last
word been uttered, when the preacher, in
a frantic passion, gives the crier the lie
direct, cursing the tongue that has uttered
such blasphemies. He then invites an
angel to contradict both Pilate and the
Jews ; when, obedient to the orator's de-
sire, a boy gaudily dressed, and furnished
with a pair of gilt pasteboard wings, ap-
pears at a window, and proclaims the true
verdict of heaven. Sometimes, in the
course of the preacher's narrative, an
image of the virgin Mary is made to
meet that of Christ, on his way to Calvary,
both taking an affectionate leave in the
street. The appearance, however, of the
virgin bearing a handkerchief to collect a
sum for her son's burial, is never omitted;
both because it melts the whole female
audience into tears, and because it pro-
duces a good collection for the convent
The whole is closed by the descendimiento,
or unnailing a crucifix, as large as life,
from the cross, an operation performed by
two friars, who, in the character of Joseph
of Arimathea and Nicodemus, are seen

425

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 24.

with ladders and carpenters' tools letting
down the jointed figure, to be placed on a
bier and carried into the church in the
form of a funeral.

I have carefully glided over such
parts of this absurd performance as would
shock many an English reader, even in
narrative. Yet, such is the strange mix-
ture of superstition and profaneness in the
people for whose gratification these scenes
are exhibited, that, though any attempt to
expose the indecency of these shows would
rouse their zeal " to the knife," I cannot
venture to translate the jokes and sallies
of wit that are frequently heard among
the Spanish peasantry upon these sacred
topics.*

Judas is a particular object of execration
on Good Friday, in the Spanish and Portu-
guese navy. An eye-witness relates the
following occurrences at Monte Video.
" The three last days had been kept as
days of sorrow ; all the ships in the har-
bour expressed it by having their colours
hoisted only half-mast high, as a token of
mourning, and the yards crossed as much
as possible, to make them resemble a cru-
cifix, while apparent solemnity prevailed
both on shore and in the harbour ; but im-
mediately on a signal, when the minute
arrived, all being in waiting, the yards
were squared, the colours hoisted wholly
up, and the guns fired from all the ships
in the harbour, while the bells on shore
were set ringing promiscuously, as fast as
possible; and at the bowsprit, or yard-
arm of the ships was suspended an effigy
of Judas, which they began to dip in the
river, acting with the greatest possible en-
thusiasm and ridiculous madness, beating
it on the shoulders* dipping it, and then
renewing their former ridiculous con-
duct.'^

Relics of the Crucifixion.
Sir Thomas More, in his " Dialogue
concernynge Heresyes, 1528," says, u Ye
might upon Good Friday, every yere this
two hundred yere, till within this five yere
that the turkes have taken the towne, have
sene one of the thornes that was in Cristes
crowne, bud and bring forth flowers in the
service time, if ye would have gone to
Rodes." The printing press has done
more mischief to miracles of this sort
than the Turks.

Patience seems to have been wearied in
supplying rehcs to meet the enormous

* Doblado's Letters.
Gregory's Journal of a captured Missionary.

demand. Invention itself became ex-
hausted; for the cravings of credulity are
insatiable. If angels are said to weep at
man's " fantastic tricks before high hea-
ven," protestants may smile, while, per-
haps, many catholics deplore the countless
frauds devised by Romish priests of
knavish minds, for cajoling the unwary
and the ignorant. " The greater the
miracle the greater the saint," has been
assuredly a belief; and, according to that
belief, the greater the relics, the greater
the possessors must have appeared, in the
eyes of the vulgar. In this view there is
no difficulty in accounting for hordes cf
trumpery in shrines and reliquaries.

The instruments of the crucifixion the
very inscription on the cross the crown
of thorns the nails the lance are
shown to the present hour, as the true in-
scription, the true thorns, the true nails,
and the true lance. So also there are
exhibitions of the true blood, yet it is a
printed truth, that what is exposed to wor-
shippers in churches by ecclesiastics for
true blood, is doubted of by the rev.
Alban Butler. In a note to his article on
" The Invention of the Holy Cross," he
states a ground for his incredulity, quite
as singular as that whereon holders of the
true blood maintain their faith. His words
are : i< The blood of Christ, which is kept
in some places, of which the most famous
is that at Mantua, seems to be what has
sometimes issued from the miraculous
bleeding of some crucifix, when pierced
in derision by Jews or Pagans, instances
of which are recorded in authentic his-
tories.*'* Though, as a catholic priest and
biographer well acquainted with these
"authentic histories," Mr. Butler might
have set them forth, yet he abstains from
the disclosure ; and hence on their superior
credibility in his eyes, to the credibility of
the declarations and testimonials urged by
the owners of the blood itself, we may
choose between their requisition to believe
that the blood is the true blood, and Mr.
Butler's belief, that it is the blood of
bleeding crucifixes. So stands the ques-
tion of credibility.

Concerning the alleged implements of
the crucifixion, it would be curious to ex-
amine particulars ; but we are limited in
room, and shall only recur to one

" THE HOLY LANCE."
Respecting this weapon, reference should

* Butler's Lives of the Saints, (edit. 1795 )
vol. v. p. 47.

427

THE EVERY- DAY BOOK. MARCH 24.

428

be first made to the great authority cited
above. Mr. Butler, speaking of other in-
struments of Christ's crucifixion, which
he maintains to be genuine, says :

" The holy lance which opened his sa-
cred side, is kept at Rome, but wants the
point. Andrew of Crete says, that it was
buried, together with the cross. At least,
St. Gregory of Tours, and venerable Bede,
testify, that, in their time, it was kept at
Jerusalem. For fear of the Saracens it
was buried privately at Antioch ; in which
city it was found, in 1098, under ground,
and wrought many miracles, as Robert the
monk, and many eye-witnesses, testify. It
was carried first to Jerusalem, and soon
after to Constantinople. The emperor,
Baldwin II., sent the point of it to Venice,
by way of pledge for a loan of money.
St. Lewis, king of France, redeemed this
relick by paying off the sum it lay in
pledge for, and caused it to be conveyed
to Paris, where it is still kept in the holy
chapel. The rest of the lance remained
at Constantinople, after the Turks had
taken that city, till, in 1492, the sultan
Bajazet sent it by an ambassador, in a
rich and beautiful case, to pope Innocent
VIII., adding, that the point was in the
possession of the king of France."

This is Mr. Butler's account of the
" holy lance" without the omission of a
word, which should be recollected for
reasons that will be obvious.

St. Longinus.

It is now necessary to observe, that
there is not any account of this saint in
Alban Butler's "Lives of the Saints,"
though (in the Breviar Roman. Antiq.
1543) the 15th of March is dedicated to
him for his festival, and though the saint
himself is declared, in the Romish bre-
viary, to have been the Roman soldier
who pierced the side of the saviour with
the lance ; and that, " being almost blind
by the blood which fell, it is supposed on
his eyes, he immediately recovered his
sight and believed;" and that, further-
more, " forsaking his military profession
he converted many to the faith," and under
the president Octavius suffered martyr-
dom.*

Cardinal Vigerius.

This dignitary, who died in 1516, was
bishop of Preeneste, and arch-priest of the
Vatican church. He wrote a book to prove
that Christ's tunic ought to give place to

* Bishop Patrick's Reflections.

the eminence of Longinus's lance. The
occasion of the work unfolds the history
of the holy lance. In 1488, the sultan
Bajazet II., being in fear of his brother,
who had become prisoner to the king of
France, offered that sovereign, if he would
keep his brother in France, all the relics
which his late father Mahomet had found
in Constantinople when he took that city.
Bajazet's letter came too late ; the court
of France had already promised to put
his brother in the custody of Innocent
VIII. When the sultan knew this, he
wrote to the pope, and endeavoured to
gain him by presents, and amongst others
by the iron of the lance that pierced our
saviour's side, which he had before offered
to the grand master, and assured him of
the punctual payment of 40,000 ducats
every year, on condition that he would not
let his brother go upon any pretence what-
sover." It appears, however, that Baja-
zet retained the relic called the " seamless
coat," and that this gave rise to a great
dispute in Italy, as to whether the holy
lance presented to the pope, or the hohf
coat, which Bajazet reserved for himself,
was the most estimable ; and hence it was
assigned to cardinal Vigerius to make it
clear that the pope had the best relic. He
executed the task to the satisfaction of
those who contended for the precedence
of the lance.*

THE TRUE LAHCE.

Utrum horum ?

Before speaking further on the lance
itself, it must not be forgotten that Alban
Butler has told us, " the holy lance kept
at Rome wants the point" and that after
various adversities, th point was " con-
veyed to Paris, where it is still kept in the
holy chapel." But Richard Lassels, who
in his " Voyage of Italy, 1670," visited
the church of St. Peter's, Rome, says, the
the cupola of that church rests upon
" vast square pillars a hundred and twenty
feet in compass, and capable of stairs
within them, and large sacristyes above
for the holy reliques that are kept in them;
to wit the top of the lance wherewith
our saviour's side was pierced under the
top of the lance the statue of Longinus."
So that at Rome, where according to Mr
Butler, the " holy lance" itself is kept, he
omits to mention that there is a top of the
lance, besides the other top " in the holy
chapel" at Paris. In that cathedral, too,

* Bayle.

429 THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 84 4*0

we have the statue of St. Longinus, whom
Mr. Butler also, for good reasons no doubt,
omits to mention in his twelve volumes of
* Lives of the Saints."

But there is another " holy lance." It is
kept in the church of the hospital of Nu-
remberg, with the crown and sceptre and
other regalia of Charlemagne. Misson
so particularly distinguishes it, that his
account shall be given verbatim. After
mentioning the sword of Charlemaigne,
which its keepers pretend " was brought
by an angel from heaven ;" he says, " they
also keep many relics in this church ; and
among others St. Longin's lance." There
is no reason to doubt, therefore, that the
ecclesiastics of Nuremberg deemed Lon-
ginus a saint, as well as the ecclesiastics
of St. Peter's at Rome. Misson goes on
to say, " They are not ignorant that this
pretended lance is to be seen in above ten
other places of the world ; but, they say,
theirs came from Antioch ; it was St. An-
drew who found it ; one single man with
it discomfited a whole army ; it was the
thing of the world which Charlemaign
loved most. The other lances are coun-
terfeits, and this is the true one." It is
requisite to observe Misson's very next
words, which, though they do not seem
connected with this " true lance" of Nu-
remberg, are yet connected with the issue.
He proceeds to say, " They have also an
extraordinary veneration for a piece of the
cross, in the midst of which there is a hole
that was made by one of the nails. They
tell us, that heretofore, the emperors placed
their greatest hopes of prosperity and suc-
cess, both in peace and war, in the posses-
sion of this enlivening wood, with the
nail arid other relics that are kept at Nu-
remberg." Misson then adds, by way of
note, the following

List of these ReUcs.

The lance.

The piece of the wood of the cross.

One of the nails.

Five thorns of the crown that was put

on Christ's head.
Part of the chains with which St. Peter

and St. Paul were bound at Rome.
A little piece of the manger.
A tooth of St. John Baptist.
One of St. Anne's arms.
The towel with which Christ wiped the

feet of his apostles.
A piece of St. John the Evangelist's

gown.

431

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK.-MARCH 24.

A piece from the table cloth which
Christ used at his last supper with his
disciples.

These relics, accompanying Misson's
account of the " true lance " of Nurem-
berg, are here enumerated, because his
statement as to the existence of the lance,
in connection with those relics, is cor-
roborated by a rare print, sixteen inches
and a quarter wide, by thirteen inches
high, published by the ecclesiastics of
Nuremberg, in the possession of the editor
of the Every-Day Book. It represents
the whole of these relics at one view, ex-
cept the five thorns. The true lance, being
placed in the print angle-ways, measures
nineteen inches and three quarters, from
the point of the sheath to the rim of the
iron shaft. The preceding column con-

tains a reduced fac-simile of this " true'
relic. It is not denied that the " holy
lance" at Paris, " where it is still kept in
the holy chapel," is also " true" they are
without a shadow of doubt, equally " true."
See Butler and Misson, and Misson an<j
Butler.

By the by, it must be remembered, that
the genuine lantern which Judas carried,
was also " kept at Rome," when Missoo
was there ; and that, at the same time,
Judas's lantern was also at St. Denis in
France both genuine.*

Th romance of " Spomydon," printed
by Wynkyn de Worde, celebrates the ex-
ploits of Charlemagne, for the recovery or
the relics of the passion in the following
lines :

fro tyt ftrt&en

Cfte spere an& naples of rrpstes
also tbe rroum of t&oritf
mang a rpdje relpfee mo

of tfmn fyt toanne also
fegllei tfjem euen anlr motm

Pilate.

There is a tradition at Vienne, that in
the reign of the emperor Tiberius, Pontius
Pilate was exiled to that city, where he
died not long after, of grief and despair,
for not having prevented the crucifixion of
the saviour ; and his body was thrown
into the Rhone. There it remained, nei-
ther carried away by the force of the cur-
rent, nor consumed by decay, for five
hundred years ; until the town being af-
flicted with the plague, it was revealed to
the then archbishop, in a vision, that the
calamity was occasioned by Pilate's body,
which unknown to the good people of
Vienne was lying at the foot of a certain
tower. The place was accordingly searched
and the body drawn up entire, but nothing
could equal its intolerable odour. Where-
fore, it was carried to a marsh two leagues
from the town, and there interred ; but
for a long series of years after, strange
noises were reported by certain people to
issue from this place continually ; these
sounds were believed to be the groans of
Pontius Pilate, arid the cries of the devils
tormenting him. They also imagined, the
neighbourhood of his body to be the cause
of violent storms of thunder and lightning
which are frequent at Vienne ; and as the

tower, where the body was found, has
been several times struck by lightning, it
has acquired the name of the tower of
Mauconseil.-\-

It will be seen from the subjoined letter
of a correspondent, who communicates his
name to the editor, that remains of the
ancient disguises are still to be seen in the
proceedings of those persons in this coun-
try, who, towards the termination of the
fast of Lent, collect materials for good cheer
to make an Easter festival..

PASTE EGGS.
To the Editor of the Every-Day Book.

Liverpool, Good Friday, 1826.
Sir, Having been much entertained
lately by your accounts of " festivals, and
fairs, and plays," I am induced to con-
tribute, in some small degree, to the store
of amusement in your interesting every-
day miscellany. The subject on which [
am to treat, is a custom that prevails in
the neighbourhood of West Derby, on this
day ; it is known by the denomination of
" paste egging," and is practised by the
humbler classes of the juvenile peasantry.

* Misson's Travels, 1714.

\ Miss Plumtree's Residence.

433

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 25.

434

The parties who are disposed to partake
in the fun, disguise themselves in the most
fantastic habiliments such as clothes
turned inside out, with strange patches on,
some with masks, veils, ribbands, &c. :
some with faces blacked, and (perhaps,
your fair readers may not excuse me
for telling them that,) even the females
disguise their sex 1 Thus equipped, they
betake themselves (in numbers of from
about four, to a dozen of both sexes) to the
different farm-houses, and solicit contri-
butions towards the " festival" of Easter
Sunday. The beginning of my tale seems to
indicate the sort of gifts that are expected ;
these gifts are generally made up of
great numbers of eggs and oatmeal cakes.
One of the party usually carries a basket
for the cakes, another for the eggs, and
(as our best feasts can scarcely be got up
without a portion of the one thing need-
ful,) a third is the bearer of a small box
for pecuniary contributions.

Conscious of the charms of music, they
generally exhilarate their benefactors with
some animated songs, appropriate to the
occasion, and sung in excellent taste ; and
by these means seldom fail to return
homeward with a plentiful supply of their
" paste egg," and no trivial aid in money.
With these materials, a festival is got up
on Easter Sunday evening. The different
parties meet at the village alehouse,
where " Bacchus's blisses and Venus's
kisses," accompany the circling bowl, and
associate the village host in a universal
compact of mirth and merriment.

I cannot discover any reasonable ac-
count of the origin of this custom ; and
must, therefore, Mr. Editor, subscribe
myself, your faithful servant,

WILL. HONEYCOMB.

NATURALISTS CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature ... 43 27.

25.

Annunciation, or Lady Day.

QUARTER DAY.

For the Every-Day Book.

Relentless, undelaying quarter-day !

Cold, though in Summer, cheerless, though in Spring,
In Winter, bleak ; in Autumn, withering

No quarter dost thou give, not for one day,

But rent and tax enforceth us to pay ;
Or, with a Barter-staff, enters our dwelling,
Thy ruthless minion, our small chattels selling,

And empty-handed sending us away !

Thee I abhor, although I lack not coin

To bribe thy " itching palm :" for I behold

The poor and needy whom sharp hunger gnawing
Compels to flit, on darksome night and cold,

Leaving dismantled walls to meet thy claim : .

Then scorn I thee, and hold them free from blame !

7 he Last Day of Lent.
Lady Morgan describes the "sepul-
chres," in the churches of Italy, to have
been watched night and day by hundreds
clad in deep mourning from the dawn of
Holy Thursday till Saturday at mid -day,
when the body is supposed to rise from
the grave, and the resurrection is an
nounced by the firing of cannon, the
blowing of trumpets, and the ringing of
bells which from the preceding Thursday
had been carefully tied up to protect them
from the power of the devil. " On this

day, the whole foreign population of Rome
rolls on, in endless succession, to the Va-
tican. The portico, colonnades, and ves-
tibules, both of the church and palace,
assume the air of the court of a military
despot. Every epoch in the military
costume is there gaudily exhibited. Hal-
berdiersin coats of mail,and slate-coloured
pantaloons, which pass upon the faithful
for polished steel armour; the Swiss in
their antique dresses of buff and scarlet,
and lamberkeens ; the regular troops in
their modern uniforms ; the guardla nobile t

435

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 35.

436

the pope's voltigeurs, all feathers and fee-
bleness, gold and glitter ; generals of the
British army, colonels and subalterns of
every possible yeomanry, with captains
and admirals of the navy, and a host of
nondescripts, laymen, and protestant
clergymen, who 'for the nonce' take
shelter under any thing resembling an
uniform, that may serve as a. passe-partout,
where none are courteously received but
such as wear the livery of church or state
militant ; all move towards the portals of
the Sistine chapel, which, with their dou-
ble guards, resemble the mouth of a mili-
tary pass, dangerous to approach, and
difficult to storm, The ladies press with
an imprudent impetuosity npon the
guards, who, with bayonets fixed and el-
bows squared, repress them with a resist-
ance, such as none but female assailants
would dare to encounter a second time.
Thousands of tickets of admission are
shown aloft by upraised hands, and se-
conded by high-raised voices ; while the
officer of the guard, who can read and
tear but one at a time, leaves the task of
repulsion to the Swiss, who manfully
second their ' aUezfous en' with a physi-
cal force, that in one or two instances
incapacitated the eager candidates for
further application. A few English fa-
voured by the minister, and all the princes
and diplomatists resident at Rome, pio-
neered by their guards of honour, make
their way without let or molestation. One
side of the space, separated from the choir
by a screen, is fitted up for them apart ;
the other is for the whole female congre-
gation, who are crushed in, like sheep in
a fold. The men, if in uniform or full
court dresses, are admitted to a tribune
within the choir ; while the inferior crowd,
left to shift for themselves, rush in with
an impetuosity none can resist ; for though
none are admitted at all to the chapel
without tickets, yet the number of appli-
cants (almost exclusively foreign) is much
too great for the limited capacity of the
place. A scene of indescribable confu-
sion ensues. The guards get mingled
with the multitude. English peers are
overturned by Roman canons. Irish friars
batter the old armour of the mailed hal-
berdiers with fists more formidable than
the iron they attack. Italian priests tum-
ble over tfght-laced dandies; and the
' Via via' of the Roman guard, and the
' Fous ne resiez pas iss? of the Swiss
mingle with screams, supplications and
rcproofe, long after the solemn service of

the church has begun. The procession of
the sacrament to the Paoline chapel suc-
ceeds ; its gates are thrown open, and its
dusky walls appear illuminated with
thousands of tapers, twinkling in the rays
of the noonday sun, through an atmos-
phere of smoke. Few are able to enter
the illuminated chapel, or to behold the
deposition of the sacrament; and many
who are informed of the programme of
the day, by endeavouring to catch at all
the ceremonies, scarcely attain to any." *

Easter Eve in Spain.

Mr. Blanco White says, that the service
in the cathedral of Seville begins this
morning without either the sound of bells
or of musical instruments. The paschal
chandle is seen by the north side of the
altar. It is, in fact, a pillar of wax, nine
yards in height, and thick in proportion,
standing on a regular marble pedestal.
It weighs eighty arrobas, or two thousand
pounds, of twelve ounces. This candle is
cast and painted new every year, the old
one being broken into pieces on the
Saturday preceding Whitsunday, the day
when part of it is used for the consecra-
tion of the baptismal font. The sacred
torch is lighted with the new fire, which
this morning the priest strikes out of a
flint, and it burns during service till As-
cension-day. A chorister in his surplice
climbs up a gilt-iron rod, furnished with
steps like a flag-staff, and having the top
railed in, so as to admit of a seat on a
level with the end of the candle. From
this crow's nest, the young man lights up
and trims the wax pillar, drawing off the
melted wax with a large iron ladle.

High mass begins this day behind the
great veil, which for the two last weeks in
Lent covers the altar. After some pre-
paratory prayers, the priest strikes up the
hymn Gloria in excelsis Deo. At this
moment the veil flies off, the explosion of
fireworks in the upper galleries reverbe-
rates in a thousand echoes from the vaults
of the church, and the four-and-twenty
large bells of its tower awake, with their
discordant though gladdening sounds,
those of the one hundred and forty-six
steeples which this religious town boasts
of. A brisk firing of musketry, accompa-
nied by the howling of the innumerable
dogs, which, unclaimed by any master,
live and multiply in the streets, adds
strength and variety to this universal din.
The firing is directed against several stuffed

* Lady Morgan's Italy.

437

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH Q5.

438

figures, not unlike Guy Fawkes of the
fifth of November, which are seen hanging
by the neck on a rope, extended across
the least frequented streets. It is then
that the pious' rage of the people of Seville
is vented against the arch-traitor Judas,
whom they annually hang, shoot, draw,
and quarter in effigy.

The church service ends in a procession
about the aisles. The priest bears the
host in his hands, visible through glass as
a picture within a medallion. The sudden
change from the gloomy appearance of
the church and its ministers, to the simple
and joyous character of this procession,
the very name of pasqua florida, the
flowery passover, and, more than the
name, the flowers themselves, which well-
dressed children, mixed with the censer-
bearers, scatter on the ground, crowd the
mind and heart with the ideas, hopes, and
feelings of renovated life, and give to this
ceremony, even for those who disbelieve
the personal presence of a Deity triumph-
ant over death, a character of inexpress-
ible tenderness.*

Papal Conversion of the Jews.

The day before Easter Sunday at Rome,
two or more Jews are procured to be
baptized. An eye-witness of a couple of
these converts, says, " The two devoted
Israelites prepared for this occasion, at-
tired in dirty yellow silk gowns, were
seated on a bench within the marble front
of the baptistery, which resembles a large
bath, both in form and shape, conning
their prayers out of a book, with most
rueful visages. Fast to their sides stuck
their destined godfathers, two black-
robed doctors of divinity, as if to guard
and secure their spiritual captives. The
ancient vase at the bottom of the font, in
which, according to an absurd legend,
Constantine was healed of his leprosy by
St. Sylvester, stood before them filled
with water, and its margin adorned with
flowers. The cardinal bishop, who had
been employed ever since six o'clock in
the benediction of fire, water, oil, wax,
and flowers, now appeared, followed by
a long procession of priests and crucifixes.
He descended into the font, repeated a
great many prayers in Latin over the
water, occasionally dipping his hand into
it. Then a huge flaming wax taper, about
six feet high, arid of proportionate thick-

Doblado's Letters.

ness, painted with images of the virgin
and Christ, which had previously been
blessed, was set upright in the vase;
more Latin prayers were mumbled one
of the Jews was brought, the bishop cut
the sign of the cross in the hair, at the
crown of his head, then, with a silver
ladle, poured some of the water upon the
part, baptizing him in the usual forms,
both the godfathers and he having agreed
to all that was required of them. The
second Jew was then brought, upon
whom the same ceremonies were per-
formed ; this poor little fellow wore a
wig, and, when the cold water was
poured on his bare skull, he winced ex-
ceedingly, and made many wry faces.
They were then conveyed to the altar of
the neighbouring chapel, where they were
confirmed, and repeated the creed. The
bishop then made the sign of the cross
upon their foreheads, with holy oil,
over which white fillets were immediately
tied to secure it ; he then pronounced a
long exhortation, in the course of which
he frightened them so that the little Jevr
with a wig began to cry most bitterly,
and would not be comforted. This being
over, the Jews were conducted, with
great ceremony, from the baptistery to
the door of the church, where they stop-
ped, and, after some chanting by the
bishop, they were allowed to pass the
threshold ; they were then seated within
the very pale of the altar, in order that
they might witness a succession of various
ceremonies."*

Greek Preparation for Easter.
The Rev. J. Conner describes the
ceremonies of the Greek church at Jeru-
salem on Easter-eve. " I went to the
church to spend the night there, that I
might view all the different observances.
It is a general belief among the Greeks
and Armenians, that, on Easter-eve, a
fire descends from heaven into the
sepulchre. The eagerness of the Greeks,
Armenians, and others, to light their
candles at this holy fire, carried an
immense crowd to the church, notwith-
standing the sum v/hich they were
obliged to pay. About nine at night, I
retired to rest, in a small apartment in
the church. A little before midnight,
the servant roused me to see the Greek
procession. I hastened to the gallery of

^mc in the Nineteenth Century.

439

THE E VERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 26.

440

the church. The scene was striking and
brilliant. The Greek chapel was splen-
didly illuminated. Five rows of lamps
were suspended in the dome ; and almost
every individual of the immense multi-
tude held a lighted candle in his hand."
The ceremonies on Easter Sunday were
very grand.

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature. . . 42 85.

26.

EASTER SUNDAY.

There is little trace in England of the
"'mposing effect of this festival in papal
terms

It is affirmed, that at Queen's-college,
Oxford, the first dish brought to the table
on Easter-day, is a red herring, riding
away on horseback, that is to say, a
herring placed by the cook, something
after the likeness of a man on horseback,
set on a corn sallad.* This is the only
vestige of the pageants which formerly
were publicly exhibited by way of popu-
lar rejoicing for the departure of the forty
days Lent fast, and the return to solid
eating with the Easter festival.

The custom of eating a gammon of
bacon at Easter, still maintained in some
parts of England, is founded on the ab-
horrence our forefathers thought proper
to express, in that way, towards the Jews
at the season of commemorating the
resurrection.f

Lifting at Easter, and pace or paste
eggs, with other usages derived from
catholic customs, are described and traced
in vol. i. p. 421.

Since these " Caps well fit ; by Titus
in Sand gate and Titus every where>" a
curious little duodecimo, printed at New-
castle in 1785, has come into the editor's
hands, from whence is extracted the
following

Paste Egg*" 1 '

Once yes once, upon a ttiiste-iLgg-&ay t
Some lords and )adies met to play ;
For then such pastimes bore the bell.
Like old Olympicks full as well ;

* Antiquarian Repertory.
t Drake's Shakespeare and hia Times.

And now, our gentry on the green,
Throng'd forth, to see, and to be seen,
Moment this, for assignation,
And all the courtesy of fashion.

A poor old woman, passing by,
Gaz'd at the ring with curious eye
Sometimes frowning, sometimes smiling.
In thought approving or reviling.
Not yet quite froze, by want or age,
Her fancy could at times engage ;
Her age might reckon eighty-five,
But curiosity alive,
She fix'd her barnacles to nose
The better to observe the shows.

Discover'd soon some wags stept forth,
And ask'd her, what such sights were worth,
What did she think of genteel modes,
Where half belie v'd themselves half-Gods ?
And t'other half, so wondrous wise, ', ,
Believe that bliss in trifling lies ?
They begg'd that she would frank declare
What she thought such people were 1

The grey-hair'd matron rubb'd her eyes,
Then turn'd her glasses to the skies ;
As if to catch some thought in cue,
To give them truth and laughter too.
Next, humbly beg'd for some Paste Eggs,
With leave to sit, to rest her legs.
Then down she squats, and round they throng,
Impatient for somzjokelike song ;

Of eggs they brought her number nine,
All nicely mark'd, and colour'd fine,
One, was blacker than the sloe,
Another, white as driven snow.
Red, crimson, purple, azure, blue.
Green, pink, and yellow, rose to view.
She closely peetd them, one by one,
Broke this, and that, till all were done.
Then shrugg'd her shoulders, wav'd her head,
But not one syllable she said.

Arnaz'd, at silence so profound ;
The quality press closer round;
And gently urg'd her, more and more,
To answer what they ask'd before?
And how did one so ripe in years,
Estimate a life like theirs \
What semblance, worthy observation,
Suited the heirs of dissipation ?
Whilst she, kept pressing up and down
As seeking how their wish to crown.
What had she apropos to say
Of persons so superbly gay ?

In throth quo* she, I'm short and plain
Long- speaking only gives me pain ;
And faith I have ye, gentlefolks,
As clear in view, as whites or yokes,
So like those eggs I can but smile,
In every cast of light and style.

441

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 26.

442

Your transient colours, fleet as theirs,
Yourflimsiness, in spite of airs ;
Tn substance, scarce more rare or new,
Some parboil? d some par-rotten too :
Of Jittle worth, in wisdom's eye,
And thrown, at last, like egg-shells by

They heard they frown'd but fled the

green,
As if a thunderbolt had been.

Lostwithlel Custom.
A very singular custom formerly pre-
vailed at Lo'scwithiel, in Cornwall, on
Easter Sunday. The freeholders of the
town and manor having assembled toge-
ther, either in person or by their deputies,
one among them, each in his turn, gaily
attired and gallantly mounted, with a
sceptre in his hand, a crown on his head,
and a sword borne before him, and re-
spectfully attended by all the rest on
horseback, rode through the principal
street in solemn state to the church. At
the churchyard stile, the curate, or other
minister, approached to meet him in re-
verential pomp, and then conducted him
to church to hear divine service. On
leaving the church, he repaired, with the
same pomp and retinue, to a house pre-
viously prepared for his reception. Here
a feast, suited to the dignity he had as-
sumed, awaited him and his suite ; and,
being placed at the head of the table, he
was served, kneeling, with all the rites
and ceremonies that a real prince might
expect. This ceremony ended with the
dinner ; the prince being voluntarily dis-
robed, and descending from his momen-
tary exaltation, to mix with common
mortals. On the origin of this custom,
but one opinion can be reasonably enter-
tained, though it may be difficult to trace
the precise period of its commencement.
It seems to have originated in the actual
appearance of the prince, who resided at
Restormel castle in former ages ; but on
the removal of royalty, this mimic gran-
deur stepped forth as its shadowy repre-
sentative, and continued for many gene-
rations as a memorial to posterity of the
princely magnificence with which Lost-
withiel had formerly been honoured.*

* Hitchins's Cornwall

THE BIDDENDEN MAIDS.
To the Editor of the E very-Day Book.

Tenter den, February -, 1826.
Sir, I beg to enclose you a specimen of
a Biddenden cake, and a printed account,
which you may perhaps think worth in-
sertion in the Every-Day Book.

The small town of Biddenden is about
four miles from Tenterden, on the right of
the road. It is at present populous,
though the clothing manufacture, which
first occasioned the increase of the popu-
lation of this part of the county, in the
reign of Edward III. when the Flemings
first introduced it, has for many years
failed here: several good houses, still re-
maining, discover the prosperity of the
former inhabitants. The church is a
handsome regular building, and its tower
a structure of a considerable height and
strength ; a portion of the old part is still
remaining. In this there is a free gram-
mar school, endowed with a good house
and garden, and a salary of 20/. per an-
num. Two maiden sisters left some land
adjoining the glebe to the parish, of the
rent of 20/. a year, which is held by the
churchwardens, and distributed in bread
to the poor on Easter-day. A repre-
sentation of the donors is impressed on
the leaves, and on the cakes, which were
formerly thrown from the roof of the
church.

In the high chancel against the north
wall is a monument, with a bust in white
marble, executed by Scheemaker, of sir
John Norris, who died in 1749; admiral
of the British fleets, and vice-admiral of
England. I am, &c. J. J. A. F.

The " Biddenden cake," transmitted
through this obliging correspondent, ap-
pears to have been made some years ago,
and carefully preserved ; the " printed
account" accompanying it, is " adorned"
by a wood cut figure of the founders of
the endowment, improved by the en-
graver from the impressions on the
cakes. But, altogether setting aside that
wood cut, the annexed engraving is an
exact representation of the baker's im-
press on the cake sent to the editor, and is
of the exact size of the cake. A verbatim
copy of the " printed account" on a half
sheet of demy, circulated at this time, is
subjoined to the present engraving.

443

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 26.

444

Cafee*

COPY OF THE PRINTED NARRATIVE BEFORE REFERRED TO.

A NEW AND ENLARGED ACCOUNT OF THE

BIDDENDEN MAIDS IN KENT,

BORN JOINED AT THE HIPS AND SHOULDERS :
With a well authenticated Account of a similar Phenomenon of Two Brothers.

ON EASTER SUNDAY in every year after Divine Service in the afternoon at the
PARISH OF BIDDENDEN, in the County of Kent, there are by the Churchwardens,
given to Strangers about 1000 Rolls, with an impression on them similar to the Plate.
The origin of this Custom is thus related.

In the year 1100 at Biddenden, in Kent, were born ELIZABETH and MARY CHULK-
IIURST, Joined together by the Hips and Shoulders, and who lived in that state, Thirty
Four Years ! ! at the expiration of which time, one of them was taken ill and after a
shoit period died ; the surviving one was advised to be separated from the corpse
which she absolutely refused by saying these words, " as we came together, we will
also go together,' and about six hours after her sister's decease, she was taken ill and

445 THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 26. 446

died also. A Stone near the Rector's Pew marked with a diagonal line is shewn as
the place of their interment.

Cf)e moon on tf)e east oriel sfjone, Cijrougfy sTenfcer Shafts of 3f)apel atom,
Cfye tfilber ligfjt, sfo pale and faint, &|etoefc tf)e tirnn $isttw$ an& mam> a Saint,
OTJjoSe images; on te glass foere "Hgeli ; fHgStetriottS matifenS Sitfe bg sttJe.
Cije moon beam fcissefc tf)e fyolg pane, Sfato tfjrefo on ti)e pa&ement a mgstic
Stain.

It is further stated, that by their will, they bequeathed to the Churchwardens of the
Parish of Biddenden, and their successors, Churchwardens for ever, certain pieces or
parcels of Land in the Parish, containing about 20 Acres, which is hired at 40 Guineas
per annum, and that in commemoration of this wonderful Phenomenon of Nature, the
Rolls and about 300 Quartern Loaves and Cheese in proportion, should be given 1o
the Poor Inhabitants of the Parish.

This account is entirely traditionary, the Learned Antiquarian HASTED, in his ac-
count of the Charities of the Parish, states the Land " was the gift of two Maidens,
of the name of Preston : and that the print of the women on the cakes has only been
used within these 80 years, and was made to represent two poor widows, as the general
objects of a charitable benefaction." It is probable that the investigation of the
learned Antiquary, brought to light some record of the name of the Ladies, for in the
year 1656, the Rev. W. Homer, then Rector of the Parish, claimed the Land, as
having been given to augment his glebe, but was non-suited in the court of Exche-
quer. In the pleadings preserved in the Church, the names of the Ladies are not
stated, not being known. There are also two other Places where such Phenomena are
said to have occurred.

If these statements weaken the credibility of the tradition, the following account of
a Lusus Naturae, compiled from the London Medical Repository, for 1821, page 138,
will unquestionably confirm the opinion of many as to the probability of the Pheno-
menon of the Biddenden Maids, Mr. Livingstone, the Surgeon of the British Factory
at Canton, relates that there was shewn at Macao, A-ke, a boy about sixteen years of
age, to whom was attached another Male Child, united at the pit of the stomach by
the neck, as if his head was plunged into Ake's breast. At the time of their birth
they were nearly of an equal size, but the parasite has not much increased since that
period. The skin of A-ke joins regularly and smoothly, the neck of the parasite, so
that he can turn his brother on either of his sides upon himself, but the natural posir
tion is breast to breast ; on the whole the parasite is well formed being about two'feet
in length. A-ke thinks that at one period their feelings were reciprocal, but for some
time he has not perceived it except in one particular act, when his brother never fails
to do the same, he however feels the slightest touch applied to his brother.

A-ke has generally a sickly appearance, but excepting the parasite, is well formed ;
about 4 feet 10 inches high ; is easily fatigued in walking or ascending a flight of steps
being obliged to support his brother with his hands. When fatigued he breathes with
difficulty, and is only relieved by laying down.

CHAMBERS AND EXALL, Printers, (King's Arms Printing Office) TENTERDEN.

The preceding " account" is an enlarge- Biddenden is completely thronged. The

ment of a preceding one of the same size, public houses are crowded with people

on a larger type, with this imprint, attracted from the adjacent towns and

" BIDDENDEN : Printed and Sold by R. villages by the usage, and the wonderful

WESTON 1808. [Price Two-pence.]" account of its origin, and the day is spent

R. Weston's paper does not contain the in rude festivity.

story of "A-ke" which is well calculated to

make the legend of the "Biddenden To elucidate this annual custom as

Maids," pass current with the vulgar. fully as possible, all that Mr. Hasted says

Our Tenterden correspondent adds, in of the matter is here extracted :
a subsequent letter, that, onEaster Sunday, " Twenty acres of land, called the

447

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 26.

448

Bread and Cheese Land, lying in five
pieces, were given by persons unknown,
the yearly rents to bo distributed among
the poor of this parish. This is yearly
done on Easter Sunday in the afternoon,
in six hundred cakes, each of which have
the figures of two woman impressed on
them, and are given to all such as attend
the church; and two hundred and seventy
loaves, weighing three pounds and a half
a piece, to which latter is added one
pound and an half of cheese, are given,
to the parishoners only, at the same time.
"There is a vulgar tradition in these
parts, that the figures on the cakes repre-
sent the donors of this gift, being two
women, twins, who were joined together in
their bodies, and lived together so, till they
were between twenty and thirty years of
age. But this seems without foundation.
The truth seems to be, that it was the gift of
two maidens of the name of Preston, and
that the print of the women on the cakes
has taken place only within these fifty
years, and was made to represent two
poor widows as the general objects of a
charitable benefaction. William Homer,
rector of this parish in 1656 brought a
suit in the exchequer for the recovery of
these lands, as having been given for an
augmentation of his glebe land, but he
was nonsuited. The lands are bounded
on the east by the glebe, on the south by
the highway, and one piece on the north
of the highway ; they are altogether of
the yearly value of about 3 II, 10*."*

Allusion is made by the rev. Mr. Fos-
broke, to a custom in the thirteenth cen-
tury of seizing all ecclesiastics who
walked abroad between Easter and Pen-
tecost, because the apostles were seized
by the Jews after Christ's passion ; and
making them purchase their liberty by
money .f

Mr. Brand relates, " that on Easter
Sunday, is still retained at the city of
Durham in the Easter holidays : on one
day the men take off the women's shoes,
or rather buckles, which are only to be
redeemed by a present : on another day
the women make reprisals, taking off the
men's in like manner." The annexed let-
ter shows that the practice in that city is not
quite out of fashion, though buckles are.

* Hasted's Kent, 1790
t Fosbroke's British Jrtonachism.

To the Editor of the Every- Day Book.

Durham, March 3, 1 826.

Sir, To contribute towards the informa-
tion you desire to convey concerning popu-
lar customs, &c. I will describe one, much
practised in Durham, which I think you
have not noticed in the former volume of
your interesting work.

On Easter Sunday it is a common
custom here, for a number of boys to
assemble in the afternoon, and as soon as
the clock strikes four, scour the streets in
parties, and accost every female they may
happen to meet, with " pay for your shoes
if you please," at the same time, stooping
to take them off; which, if they do, and
do not immediately get a penny or two-
pence, they will actually carry off by
main force. I have known the boys have,
at least, a dozen odd shoes ; but gene-
rally, something is given, which in the
evening they either spend in public
houses, or divide. On Easter Monday,
the women claim the same privilege to-
wards the male sex. They begin much
earlier in the day, and attack every man
and boy they can lay hold of to make
them pay for their shoes ; if the men
happen to wear boots, and will not pay
any thing, the girls generally endea-
vour to seize their hats and run off. If
a man catches the girl with the hat, it is
usually thrown or handed about to the
great amusement of the spectators, till the
person is baffled out of a sixpence to re-
deem the right of wearing it again : but
this, like all other old customs, has greatly
fallen off lately, and is now chiefly prac-
tised by a few children.

I am, &c.

J.B.

A contributor to the " Gentleman's
Magazine" in August, 1790, says that, at
Rippon, in Yorkshire, " on Easter Sun-
day, as soon as the service of the church
is over, the boys run about the streets,
and lay hold of every woman or girl they
can, and take their buckles from their
shoes. This farce is continued till the
next day at noon, when the females begin,
and return the compliment upon the men,
which does not end till Tuesday evening ;
nay, I was told that, some years ago, no
traveller could pass through the town
without being stopped and having his
spurs taken away, unless redeemed by a
little money, which is the only way to
have your buckles returned." 1

449

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 26.

450

Pressing in Church.

On the morning of Easter Sunday,
1596, during the reign of queen Eliza-
beth, the lord mayor and aldermen of
London received the royal command to
raise a thousand men with the utmost
ixpedition ; wherefore they repaired with
their deputies, constables, and other offi-
cers, to the churches, and having caused
the doors to be shut, took the people du-
ring divine service from their worship, till
the number was completed, and having
armed them, the men, so raised and
equipped, were marched the same night
for Dover, in order to their embarkation
for France ; but in the mean time, Eli-
zabeth having received advice of the re-
duction of Calais by the Spaniards, they
were countermanded, and returned to
the city in about a week after their
departure.*

EASTER DAY CUSTOMS
At Twickenham, and Paddington.
According to Mr. Lysons, " There was
an ancient custom at Twickenham, of
dividing two great cakes in the church
upon Easter-day among the young peo-
ple ; but it being looked upon as a super-
stitious relic, it was ordered by parlia-
ment, 1645, that the parishioners should
forbear that custom, and, instead thereof,
buy loaves of bread for the poor of the
parish with the money that should hare
bought the cakes. It appears that the
sum of i.per annum is still charged upon
the vicarage for the purpose of buying
penny loaves for poor children on the
Thursday after Easter. Within the me-
mory of man they were thrown from the
church-steeple to be scrambled for; a
custom which prevailed also, some time
ago, at Paddington, and is not yet totally
abolished." A correspondent imagines
that the Paddington custom of throwing
bread from the church -steeple, which
exists also in other parishes, was derived
from largesses bestowed on the poor by
the Romish clergy on occasion of the fes-
tival, and that it has been continued since
the Reformation, and, therefore, since the
institution of poor rates, without due
regard to its original object.

Biddenden Custom.

Since the former sheet was printed, an
article occurs to the editor in the " Gentle-
man's Magazine," which it seems proper to

VoL.ll.-67.

* Maitland.

notice. The writer there states, that u Bid-
denden is a parish of great extent, as most
parishes in the tPtfalrfofKent are;" that this
part of the country is called the weald,
" from the growth of large timber, oak par-
ticularly;" that the town of Biddenden is
about five miles equi-distant from three
several market towns, Cranbrook, Smar-
den, and Tenterden ; and is distant about
fifteen miles from Maidstone. On the
same authority, is now added that it does
not furnish any antique inscriptions, nor
does the weald in general yield the in-
quirer any thing antique or invaluable to
repay his search. In the reign of queeu
Elizabeth, John Mayne, esq. endowed a
good house and garden with 20/. per
annum, for a free grammar school, which
owing to. the salary being fixed at that
amount by the founder, is neither eligible
to persons qualified under the regulations,
nor is it capable of being increased. The
visitation of the school, was formerly in
the archbishop of Canterbury, but is so no
longer, and the schoolmaster is appointed
by the lord. The archbishop is patron of
the rectory, which, in the reign of Henry
VIII., was valued so high as 351. The
fair here is on the 8th of November. Mr.
Urban's correspondent noticing "the
two maided-sisters who grew together
from the waist downwards," refers to ac-
counts of similar wonders, and waggishly
ends his list by directing to the "Memoirs
of Scriblerus, by A Pope," as an authority
corroborative of the apocryphal "Bid-
denden Maids."

PASTE EGGS.

A correspondent, T. A., mentions this
custom in Cheshire : " Children go round
the village and beg eggs for their Easter
dinner ; they accompany it by a short
song, which I am sorry I am unable to
present to you, but the burthen of it is ad-
dressed to the farmer's dame, and asking
' an egg, bacon, cheese, or an apple, or
any good thing that will make us merry,'
ends with
'And Tpray you, good dame, an Easter egg.' "

In Cumberland and Westmorland, and
other parts of the north of England, boys
beg, on Easter eve, eggs to play with, and
beggars ask for them to eat. These eggs
are hardened by boiling, and tinged with
the juice of herbs, broom-flowers, &c
The eggs being thus prepared, the boys
go out and play with them in the fields ;

151

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 26.

452

rolling them up and down, like bowls,
upon the ground, or throwing them up,
like balls, into the air.*

SUGAR CUPPING
In the Peak of Derbyshire.

To the Editor of the Every-Day Book.
Tideswelly Derbyshire, March 31, 1826.

Sir, The pleasure and instruction I
have derived from the perusal of your
interesting miscellany, induce me to offer
to your notice a custom in this neigh-
bourhood denominated Sugar-cupping,
which, like similar remnants of the " olden
time," is gradually running into disuse.

Last Sunday, being Easter-day, I walked
to the " Dropping Tor," the rendezvous of
the " sugar-cuppers," but, owing to the
extreme inclemency of the weather, no
'one was there, nor was it, I believe, once
visited during the day. From frequent
inquiry of the oldest persons in the neigh-
bourhood, I can learn nothing but that,
on Easter Sunday, they were used, when
children, to go to the " Dropping Tor,"
with a cup in one pocket and a quarter of
a pound of sugar in the other, and having
caught in their cups as much water as
was desired- from the droppings of the
spring, they dissolved the sugar in it, and
drank it. The natural consequences re-
sulting from the congregation of a quan-
tity of *'young men and maidens" followed,
and they returned home. I was anxious
to discover some jargon repeated by the
youthful pilgrims, as an invocation to the
saint of the spring, or otherwise; but I
could not collect any thing of the kind. I
conjecture tiiis custom to be peculiar to
this part. If you, or any of your cor-
respondents, can furnish more satisfactory
information respecting it, some of your
readers will not regret I have troubled you
with the hint.

With respect, I am,

Your obedient servant,

A PEAKRIL.

Further notice of this usage at " the
Peak," will be acceptable to the editor,
who is neither acquainted with the practice
nor its origin. At some wells it is cus-
tomary, on certain days, for persons to
strew flowers, or hang garlands on the
brink. Accounts of this nature, especially
if accompanied by a drawing of the place,
are very desirable. We have hitherto had

* Brand.

no water customs, yet springs were very
early objects of veneration. These re-
mains of ancient respect will be duly
respected when communicated.

EASTER DAY AT ROME.

On this day the pope himself goes in
grand procession to the cathedral of St.
Peter, and assists at the high mass.
The church is lined with the guarda
nobile, in their splendid uniforms of gold
and scarlet, and nodding plumes of white
ostrich feathers, and the Swiss guards,
with their polished cuirasses and steel
helmets. The great centre aisle is kept
clear by a double wall of armed men, for
the grand procession, the approach of
which is proclaimed by the sound of
trumpet from the farther end of the
church. Priests advance, loaded with
still augmenting magnificence, as they
ascend to the higher orders. Cloth of
gold, and embroidery of gold and silver,
and crimson velvet, and mantles of spot-
ted ermine, and flowing trains, and atten-
dant train-bearers, and mitres and cruci-
fixes glittering with jewels, and priests
and patriarchs, and bishops and cardi-
nals, dazzle the eye, and fill the whole
length of St. Peter's. Lastly, comes the
pope, in his crimson chair of state, borne
on the shoulders of twenty palfrenieri,
arrayed in robes of white, and wearing
the tiara, or triple crown of the conjoined
Trinity, with a canopy of cloth of silver
floating over his head ; preceded by two
men, carrying enormous fans, composed
of large plumes of ostrich feathers,
mounted on long gilded wands. He stops
to pay his adorations to the miraculous
Madonna in her chapel, abont half-way
up ; and this duty, which he never omits,
being performed, he is slowly borne past
the high altar, liberally giving his bene-
diction with the twirl of the three fingers
as he passes.

He is then set down upon a magnifi-
cent stool, in front of the altar, on which
he kneels, and his crown being taken off,
and the cardinals taking off their little
red caps, and all kneeling in a row, he
assumes the attitude of praying. Having
remained a few minutes, he is taken to a
chair prepared for him, to the right of the
throne. There he reads from a book,
and is again taken to she altar, on which
his tiara has been placed ; and, bare-
headed, he repeats or as, by courtesy, it
is called, sings a small part of the ser-

453

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 26.

454

vice, throws up clouds of incense, and is
removed to the crimson-canopied throne.
High mass is celebrated by a cardinal
and two bishops, at which he assists.
During the service, the Italians seem to
consider it quite as much of a pageant as
foreigners, but neither a new nor an inter-
esting one ; they either walk about, and
talk, or interchange pinches of snuff with
each other, exactly as if it had been a
place of amusement, until the tinkling of
a little bell, which announces the eleva-
tion of the host, changes the scene. Every
knee is now bent to the earth, and every
voice hushed ; the reversed arms of the
military ring with an instantaneous clang
on the marble pavement, as they sink on
the ground, and all is still as death. This
does not last above two minutes till the
host is swallowed. Thus begins and ends
the only part that bears even the smallest
outward aspect of religion. The military
now pour out of St. Peter's, and form an
extensive ring before its spacious front,
behind which the horse guards are drawn
up, and an immense number of carriages,
filled with splendidly dressed women, and
thousands of people on foot, are assem-
bled. Yet the multitude almost shrunk
into insignificance in the vast area of the
piazza; and neither piety nor curiosity
collect sufficient numbers to fill it. The
tops of the colonnades all round, how-
ever, are thronged with spectators ; and it
is a curious sight to see a mixture of all
ranks and nations, from the coronetted
heads of kings, to the poor cripple who
crawls along the pavement, assembled
together to await the blessing of their
fellow mortal. Not the least picturesque
figures among the throng are the conta-
jlini, who, in every variety of curious cos-
tume, flock in from their distant moun-
tain villages, to receive the blessing of
the holy father, and whose bright and
eager countenances, shaded by their long
dark hair, turn to the balcony where the
pope is to appear. At length the two
white ostrich-feather fans, the forerunners
of his approach, are seen ; a'nd he is
borne forward on his throne, above the
shoulders of the cardinals and bishops,
who fill the balcony. After an audible
prayer he arises, and, elevating his hands
to heaven, invokes a solemn benediction
upon the multitude, and the people com-
mitted to his charge. Every head un-
covers ; the soldiers, and many of the
spectators, kneel on the pavement to re-
ceive the blessing. It is given with im-

pressive solemnity, but with little of ges-
ture or parade. Immediately the thun-
dering of cannon from the castle of St.
Angelo, and the peal of bells fiom St.
Peter's, proclaim the joyful tidings to the
skies. The pope is borne out, and the
people rise from their knees.*

GREEK EASTER.

The "Picture of Greece in 1825,"b?
Messrs. Emerson and Humphreys, and
count Pecchio, contains some particulars
of the celebration of the Greek church ,
They say,

"To -day being the festival of Easter,
Napoli presented a novel appearance,
viz. a clean one. This feast as the most
important in the Greek church, is ob-
served with particular rejoicings and
respect. Lent having ceased, the ovens
were crowded with the preparations for
banquetting. Yesterday every street was
reeking with the blood of lambs and goats;
and to-day, every house was fragrant
with odours of pies and baked meats ; all
the inhabitants, in festival array, were
hurrying along to pay their visits and
receive their congratulations ; every one,
as he met his friend, saluted him with a
kiss on each side of his face, and repeated
the words Xpurros a.vevTt\ * Christ is
risen/ The day was spent in rejoicings
in every quarter ; the guns were fired
from the batteries, and every moment
the echoes of the Palamede were replying
to the incessant reports of the pistols and
trophaics of the soldiery. On these oc-
casions, the Greeks (whether from laziness
to extract the ball, or for the purpose of
making a louder report, I know not,)
always discharge their arms with a
bullet : frequent accidents are the con-
sequence. To-day, one poor fellow was
shot dead in his window, and a second
severely wounded by one of these ran-
dom shots. In the evening, a grand
ceremony took place in the square : all
the members of the government, after
attending divine service in the church of
St. George, met opposite the residence ol
the executive body ; the legislative being
the most numerous, took their places in a
line, and the executive passing along
them from right to left, kissing commenced
with great vigour, the latter body em
bracing the former with all fervour and
8 flection. Amongst such an intriguing

* Rome in the Nineteenth Century.

455

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 26.

456

factious senate as the Greek legislation,
it requires little calculation to discern
that the greater portion of these saluta-
tions were Judas's kisses."

TURKISH EASTER.

The journals of 1824, contain the fol-
lowing extract, from a private letter, dated
Tangiers, in Africa : " The day after my
arrival 1 was present at the celebration
of this country's Easter, a religious cere-
mony which greatly resembles our Easter,
and is so called. At break of day, twenty
salutes of cannon announce the festival.
At this signal, the pacha proceeds to a
great plain ranged outside the city,
where he is received by all the troops of
the garrison, ranged under arms. An
unfortunate ram is laid upon an altar
there; the pacha approaches it, and
plunges a knife into its throat ; a Jew
then seizes the bleeding animal, hoists it
on his shoulders, and runs off with it to
the mosque. If the animal still lives at
the moment he arrives there, which very
seldom fails to occur, the year will be a
good one: if the contrary happens,
great lamentations and groanings are
made the year will be bad. As soon as
the victim is dead, a great carnage begins.
Every Moor sacrifices, according to his
means, one or more sheep, and this in
the open street ; the blood streams down
on all sides ; men and women imbrue
themselves in it as much as they please ;
they cry, sing, dance, and endeavour to
manifest the joy that animates them in a
thousand forms. As soon as night ap-
pears, the town resounds with discharges
of musketry, and it is not till the end of
eight days that this charming festival
concludes.'

PROPHECY CONCERNING EASTER.

For the Every-Day Book.
Notwithstanding the flood of inform-
ation which has been poured over the
country during the last half century, su-
perstition, at once the child and mother
of ignorance, still holds no inconsiderable
sway over the minds of men. It is true,
that the days of ghosts and apparitions
are nearly over, but futurity is as tempt-
ing as ever, and the seventh son of a
seventh son is still potent enough to charm
away the money and bewilder the senses
of the credulous, and Nixon's and Mother
Shipton's p r ophecies still find believers.

The coincidences by which these legen-
dary predictions are sometimes fulfilled,
are often curious. The present year may
be said to witness the accomplishment of
one. It has been said

When my Lord falls in my Lady's lap,
England beware of some mishap.

Meaning thereby, that when the festi-
val of Easter falls near to Lady-day, (the
25th of March,) this country is threatened
with some calamity. In the year 181 8,
Easter-day happened on the 22d ot
March, and in the November of that
year, queen Charlotte died. In 1826,
Easter-day happening on the 26th ot
March, distress in the commercial world
may be regarded as a fulfilment of the '
prediction. Spanish history affords a
curious instance of this kind. It is re-
lated, that Peter and John de Carvajal,
who were condemned for murder, (A. D.
1312.) on circumstantial evidence, and
that very frivolous, to be thrown from
the summit of a rock, Ferdinand IV 7 .,
then king of Spain, could by no means
be prevailed upon to grant their pardon.
As they were leading to execution, they
invoked God to witness their innocence,
and appealed to his tribunal, to which
they summoned the king to appear in
thirty days' time. He laughed at the
summons ; nevertheless, some days after,
he fell sick, and went to a place called Al-
caudet to divert himself and recover his
health, and shake off the remembrance
of the summons if he could. Accordingly,
the thirtieth day being come, he found
himself much better, and after showing
a great deal of mirth and cheerfulness on
that occasion with his courtiers, and ridi-
culing the illusion, retired to rest, but
was found dead in his bed the next
morning. (See Turquet's general History
of Spain 1612, p. 458, cited in Dr.
Grey's notes to Hudibras, part iii. canto
1. lines 209, 210.)

The same author (Dr. Grey,) quotes
from Dr. James Young, (Sidrophel vapu-
lans, p. 29,) that Cardan, a celebrated
astrologer lost his life to save his credit ;
for having predicted the time of his own
death, he starved himself to verify it : or
else being sure of his art, he took this to
be his fatal day, and by those apprehen-
sions made it so. The prophecy of
George Wishart, the Scottish martyr, re-
specting the death of cardinal Beatouu,
is a striking feature in a catalogue of
coincidences. In such light may be

45?

THE EVERY-DAY BOOKMARCH 27.

458

cited th stories of the predicted death of
the duke of Buckingham, in the time of
Charles I., that of lord Lyttleton in later
days, and many others.

Lord Bacon, who, on many points il-
luminated the sixteenth with the light of the
nineteenth century, after referring in his
chapter on prophecies (see his Essays) to
the fulfilment of many remarkable fulfil-
ments, delivers his opinion on that point
in the following words : " My judgment
is, that they ought all to be despised, and
ought to serve but for winter talk by the
fireside. Though when I say despised,

i mean for belief. That that hath

given them grace, and some credit con-
sisteth in these things. 1st. that men
mark when they hit, and never when they
miss ; as they do, also of dreams. 2d.
that probable conjectures and obscure
traditions many times turn themselves
into prophecies : while the nature of
man which coveteth divination, thinks it
no peril to foretell that, which indeed

they do but collect. The 3d. and

last (which is the great one) is, that al-
most all them, being infinite in number,
have been impostures, and by idle and
crafty brains, merely contrived and
feigned after the event passed."

J. W. H.

EASTER DAY.

The editor is favoured with a hint,
which, from respect to the authority
whence it proceeds, is communicated
below in its own language.
To the Editor of the Every-Day Book.
Harley street, March 22, 1826.

Sir, Before I slip from town for the
holidays, let me observe that it may be
useful, and more useful perhaps than you
imagine, to many of your readers, if you
were to mention the earliest day whereon
Easter can occur : for, as not only mov-
able feasts, but law terms, and circuits
of judges, and the Easter recess of par-
liament, depend on this festival, it influ-
ences a vast portion of public business,
and of the every-day concerns of a great
number of individuals in the early season
of the year.

The earliest possible day whereon
Easter can happen, in any year, is the
22d of March. It fell on that day in
1818, and cannot happen on that day till
the year 2285.

The latest possible day whereon Easter
can happen, is the 25th of April.

\Ye can have no squabble th s year
concerning the true time of Easter. The
result of the papers on that subject in the
first volume of your excellent publication,
vindicated the time fixed for its celebra-
tion, in this country, upon those principles
which infallibly regulate the period.

In common with all I am acquainted
with, who have the pleasure of being
acquainted with your Every-Day Book, I
wish you and your work the largest pos-
sible success. I am, &c.

ALPHA.

P. S. It occurs to me that you may
not be immediately able to authenticate
my statement ; and, therefore, I subscribe
my name for your private satisfaction.

Easter King.

As the emperor, Charles V., was pass-
ing through a small village in Arragon,
on Easter-day, he was met by a peasant,
who had been chosen the paschal, or
Easter king of his neighbourhood, ac-
cording to the custom of his country, and
who said to him very gravely, " Sir, it is
I that am king." " Much good may it
do you, my friend," replied the emperor,
" you have chosen an exceedingly trou-r
blesome employment."

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature ... 43 95 V

EASTER MONDAY.

This is the day for choosing church-
wardens in the different parishes, and
for merry-making afterwards.

From the " Mirror of the Months."
Now, at last, the Easter week is ar-
rived, and the poor have for once in the
year the best of it, setting all things,
but their own sovereign will, at a wise
defiance. The journeyman who works
on Easter Monday should lose his caste,
and be sent to the Coventry of mecha-
nics, wherever that may be. In fact, it
cannot happen. On Easter Monday
ranks change places; Jobson is as
good as sir John ; the " rude mecha-
nical" is " monarch of all he surveys"
from the summit of Greenwich-hill, and
when he thinks fit to say " it is our royal
pleasure to be drunk !" who shall dispute

459

THE E VERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 27.

460

the proposition? Not I, for one. When
our English mechanics accuse their betters
of oppressing them, the said betters
should reverse the old appeal, and refer
from Philip sober to Philip drunk ; and
then nothing more could be said. But
now, they have no betters, even in their
own notion of the matter. And in the
name of all that is transitory, envy them
not their brief supremacy ! It will be over
before the end of the week, and they will
be as eager to return to their labour as
they now are to escape from it ; for the
only thing that an Englishman, whether
high or low, cannot endure patiently for
a week together, is, unmingled amuse-
ment. At this time, however, he is de-
termined to try. Accordingly, on Easter
Monday all the narrow lanes and blind
alleys of our metropolis pour forth their
dingy denizens into the suburban fields
and villages, in search of the said amuse-
ment, which is plentifully provided for
them by another class, even less enviable
than the one on whose patronage they
depend ; for of all callings, the most me-
lancholy is that of purveyor of pleasure
to the poor.

During the Monday our determined
holiday-maker, as in duty bound, con-
trives, by the aid of a little or not a little
artificial stimulus, to be happy in a tolera-
bly exemplary manner On the Tuesday,
he fancies himself happy to-day, because
he felt himself so yesterday. On the
Wednesday he cannot tell what has come
to him, but every ten minutes he wishes
himself at home, where he never goes
but to sleep. On Thursday he finds out
the secret, that he is heartily sick of
doing nothing ; but is ashamed to confess
it ; and then what is the use of going to
work before his money is spent ? On
Friday he swears that he is a fool for
throwing away the greatest part of his
quarter's savings without having any
thing to show for it, and gets gloriously
drunk with the rest to prove his words ;
passing the pleasantest night of all the
week in a watchhouse. And on Satur-
day, after thanking "his worship" for
his good advice, of which he does not
remember a word, he comes to the wise
determination, that, after all, there is
nothing like working all day long in
silence, and at night spending his earn-
ings and his breath in beer and politics !
So much for the Easter week of a London
holiday-maker.

But there is a sport belonging to

Easter Monday which is not confined to
the lower classes, and which fun forbid
that I should pass over silently. If the
reader has not, during his boyhood, per-
formed the exploit of riding to the turn-
out of the stag on Epping-forest follow-
ing the hounds all day long at a respect-
ful distance-r-returning home in the
evening with the loss of nothing but his
hat, his hunting whip, and his horse, not
to mention a portion of his nether person
and finishing the day by joining the
lady mayoress's ball at the Mansion-
house ; if the reader has not done all this
when a boy, I will not tantalize him by
expatiating on the superiority of those who
have. And if he has done it, I need not
tell him that he has no cause to envy his
friend who escaped with a flesh wound
from the fight of Waterloo ; for there is
not a pin to choose between them.

EPPING HUNT.

In 1226, king Henry III. confirmed to
the citizens of London, free warren, or
liberty to hunt a circuit about their city,
in the warren of Staines, &c. ; and in
ancient times the lord mayor, aldermen,
and corporation, attended by a due num-
ber of their constituents, availed them-
selves of this right of chace " in solemn
guise." From newspaper reports, it ap-
pears that the office of " common hunt,"
attached to the mayoralty, is in danger of
desuetude. The Epping hunt seems to
have lost the lord mayor and his brethren
in their corporate capacity, and the annua'
sport to have become a farcical show.

A description of the Epping hunt of
Easter Monday, 1826, by one " Simon
Youngbuck," in the Morning Herald, is
the latest report, if it be not the truest ;
but of that the editor of the Every-Day
Book cannot judge, for he was not there to
see : he contents himself with picking out
the points ; should any one be dissatisfied
with the " hunting of that day," as it will
be here presented, he has only to sit down,
in good earnest, to a plain matter-of-fact
detail of all the circumstances from his
own knowledge, accompanied by such ci-
tations as will show the origin and former
state of the usage, and such a detail, so
accompanied, will be inserted

" For want of a better this must-do."
On the authority aforesaid, and that,
without the introduction of any term not
in the Herald, be it known then, that be-
fore, and at the commencement of the
hunt aforesaid, it was a cold, dry, and

461

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 27.

46 e

dusty morning, and that the huntsmen of
the east were all abroad by nine o'clock,
trotting, fair and softly, down the road, on
great nine-hand skyscrapers, nimble daisy-
cutting nags, flowing-tailed chargers, and
ponies no bigger than the learned one at
Astley's ; some were in job-coaches, at two
guineas a-day ; some in three-bodied non-
descripts, some in gigs, some in cabs,
some in drags, some in short stages, and
some in long stages ; while some on no
stages at all, footed the road, smothered
by dust driven by a black, bleak north-
easter full in the teeth. Every gentleman
was arrayed after his own particular taste,
in blue, brown, or black in dress- coats,
long coats, short coats, frock coats, great
coats, and no-coats ; in drab-slacks and
slippers; in gray-tights, and black-
spurred Wellingtons ; in nankeen bomb-
balloons ; in city-white cotton-cord un-
mentionables, with jockey toppers, and in
Russian-drill down-belows, as a memento
of the late czar. The ladies all wore a
goose-skin under-dress, in compliment to
the north-easter.

At that far-famed spot, the brow above
Fairmead bottom, by twelve o'clock, there
were not less than three thousand merry
lieges then and there assembled. It was
a beautiful set-out. Fair dames ' in purple
and in pall," reposed in vehicles of all
sorts, sizes, and conditions, whilst seven
or eight hundred mounted members of
the hunt wound in and out " in restless
ectasy," chatting and laughing with the
fair, sometimes rising in their stirrups to
look out for the long-coming cart of the
stag, " whilst, with off heel assiduously
aside," they " provoked the caper which
they seemed to hide." The green-sward
was covered with ever-moving crowds on
foot, and the pollard oaks which skirt the
bottom on either side were filled with men
aud hoys.

But where the deuce is the stag all this
while ? One o'clock, and no stag. Two
o'clock, and no stag ! a circumstance
easily accounted for by those who are in
the secret, and the secret is this. There
are buttocks of boiled beef and fat hams,
and beer and brandy in abundance, at the
Roebuck public-house low down in the
forest ; and ditto at the Baldfaced Stag, on
the top of the hill ; and ditto at the Coach
and Horses, at Woodford Wells; and
ditto at the Castle, at Woodford; and
ditto at the Eagle, at Snaresbrook ; and
if the stag had been brought out before
the beef, beer, bacon, and brandy, were

eaten and drank, where would have been
the use of providing so many good things ?
So they carted the stag from public-house
to public-house, and showed him at three*
pence a head to those ladies and gentle*
men who never saw such a thing before,
and the showing and carting induced a
consumption of eatables and drinkables,
an achievement which was helped by a
band of music in every house, playing
hungry tunes to help the appetite ; and
then, when the eatables and drinkables
were gone, and paid for, they turned out
the stag.

Precisely at halt-past two o'clock, the
stag-cart was seen coming over the hill
by the Baldfaced Stag, and hundreds of
horsemen and gig-men rushed gallantly
forward to meet and escort it to the top of
Fairmead bottom, amidst such whooping
and hallooing, as made all the forest echo
again ; and would have done Carl Maria
Von Weber's heart good to hear. And
then, when the cart stopped and was
turned tail about, the horsemen drew up
in long lines, forming an avenue wide
enough for the stag to run down. For a
moment, all was deep, silent, breathless
anxiety ; and the doors of the cart were
thrown open, and out popped a strapping
four-year-old red buck, fat as a porker,
with a chaplet of flowers round his neck,
a girth of divers coloured ribbons, and a
long blue and pink streamer depending
from the summit of his branching horns.
He was received, on his alighting, with a
shout that seemed to shake heaven's con-
cave, and took it very graciously, looking
round him with great dignity as he stalked
slowly and delicately forward, down the
arenue prepared for him ; and occasionally
shrinking from side to side, as some super-
valorous cockney made a cut at him with
his whip. Presently, he caught a glimpse
of the hounds and the huntsmen, waiting
for him at the bottom, and in an instant
off he bounded, sideways, through the
rank, knocking down and trampling all
who crowded the path he chose to take ;
and dashing at once into the cover, he
was ought of sight before a man could
say " Jack Robinson !" Then might be
seesi, gentlemen running about without
their horses, and horses galloping about
without their gentlemen ; and hats out of
number brushed off their owners' heads by
the rude branches of the trees ; and every
body asking which way the stag was gone,
and nobody knowing any thing about him ;
and ladies beseeching gentlemen not to

463

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 27.

464

be too venturesome; and gentlemen
gasping for breath at the thoughts of what
they were determined to venture ; and
myriads of people on foot running hither
and thither in search of little eminences
to look from ; and yet nothing at all to
be seen, though more than enough to be
heard ; for every man, and every woman
too, made as loud a noise as possible.
Meanwhile the stag, followed by the
keepers and about six couple of hounds,

took away through the covers towards
Woodford. Finding himself too near the
haunts of his enemy, man, he there turned
back, sweeeping down the bottom for a
mile or two, and away up the enclosures
towards Chingford ; where he was caught
nobody knows how, for every body re-
turned to town, except those who stopped
to regale afresh, and recount the glorious
perils of the day. Thus ended the
Easter Hunt of 1826.

JWfnerba.

From a Chrysolite possessed by Lord Montague.

The Minervalia was a Roman festival
in March, commencing on the 19th of
the month, and lasting for five days.
The first day was spent in devotions
to the goddess; the rest in offering
sacrifices, seeing the gladiators fight, '
acting tragedies, and reciting witticisms
for prizes. It conferred a vacation on
scholars who now, carried schooling
money, or presents, called Minerval, to
their masters.

According to Cicero there were five
Minervas.

1 . Minerva, the mother of Apollo.

2. Minerva, the offspring of the Nile,
of whom there was a statue with this in-
scription : " I am all that was, is, and is
lo come ; and my veil no mortal hath
yet removed."

3. Minerva, who sprung armed from
Jupiter's brain.

4. Minerva, the daughter of Jupiter
and Corypha, whose father Oceanus in-
vented four-wheeled chariots.

5. Minerva, the daughter of Pallantis,
who fled from her father, and is, therefore,
represented with wings on her feet, in the
same manner as Mercury.

The second Minerva, of Egypt, is ima-
gined to have been the most ancient.
The Phoenicians also had a Minerva, the
daughter of Saturn, and the inventress of
arts and arms. From one of these two,
the Greeks derived their Minerva.

Minerva was worshipped by the Athe-
nians before the age of Cecrops, in
whose time Athens was founded, and its
name taken from Minerva,whom the Greek
called 'A^J/TJ. It was proposed to call
the city either by her name or that of
Neptune, and as each had partizans, and
the women had votes equal to *he men,

465

THE EVERV-DAY BOOK. MARCH 27.

466

Cecrops called all the citizens together
both men and women ; the suffrages
were collected ; and it was found that
all the women had voted for Minerva, and
all the men for Neptune; but the

women exceeding the men by one voice,
Athens was called after Minerva, A
temple was dedicated to her in the city,
with her statue in gold and ivory, thirty-
nine feet high, executed by Phydias.

" Life is darken'd o'er with woe." Der Fr n ischHtz.

* JHattftttosf at &omt, 1826.

It would be as difficult for most persons,
who think Mr. Matthews acts easily, to
act as he does, as it would be difficult to
make such persons comprehend, that his
ease is the result of labour, and that his
present performance is the result of greater
labour than his exhibitions of former years.
An examination of the process by which
he has attained the extraordinary ability
to " command success," would be a fatigu-
ing inquiry to most readers, though a very
curious one to some. He has been called
a " mimic ;" this is derogation from his
real powers, which not only can represent
the face, but penetrate the intellect. An
expert swimmer is not always a successful
diver : Mr. Matthews is both. His fa-
culty of observation " surpasses show."

He leaves the features he contemplates,
enters into the mind, becomes joint tenant
of its hereditaments and appurtenances
with the owner, and describes its secret
chambers and closets. This faculty ob-
tained lord Chesterfield his fame, and
enabled him to persuade the judgment ;
but he never succeeded by his voice or pen
in raising the passions, like Mr. Mat-
thews, who, in that respect, is above the
nobleman. The cause of this superiority
is, that Mr. Matthews is the creature
of feeling of excitation and depression.
This assertion is made without the
slightest personal knowledge or even sight
of him offthe stage ; it is grounded on a
generalized view of some points in human
nature. If Mr. Matthews were not the slave

467

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 27.

468

of temperament, he never could have pic-
tared the Frenchman at the Post Office,
nor the gaming Yorkshireman. These are
prominences seized by his whole audience,
on whom, however, his most delicate
touches of character are lost. His high finish
of the Irish beggar woman with her " poor
child/' was never detected by the laughers
at their trading duett of " Sweet Home !"
The exquisite pathos of the crathurs story
was lost. To please a large assemblage
the points must be broad. Mr. Mat-
thews's countenance of his host drawing
the cork is an excellence that discovers
itself, and the entire affair of the dinner is
" pleasure made easy" to the meanest ca-
pacity. The spouting child who sings the
" Bacchanal Song" in " Der Freischiitz"
from whence the engraving is taken, is
another " palpable hit," but amazingly in-
creased in force to some of the many
who heard it sung by Phillips. The
" tipsy toss" of that actor's head, his rol-
locking look, his stamps in its chorus, and
the altogetherness of his style in that
single song, were worth the entirety of
the drama ye: he was seldom encored.
To conclude with Mr. Matthews, it is
merely requisite to affirm that his "At
Home" in the year 1826, evinces rarer
talent than the merit of a higher order
which he unquestionably possesses. He
is an adept at adaptation beyond com-

COLESHIT.L CUSTOM.
They have an ancient custom at Coles-
hill, in the county of Warwick, that if the
young men of the town can catch a hare,
and bring it to the parson of the parish
before ten o'clock on Easter Monday, the
parson is bound to give them a calve's
head, and a hundred eggs for their break-
fast, and a groat in money.*

RIDING THE BLACK LAD.
An account of an ancient usage still
maintained under this name at Ashton-
under-Lyne, will be found in the an-
nexed letter.

To the Editor of the Every-Day Book.

Ashton-under-Lyne, March, 1826.
Sir,

A singular custom prevails at this town
on Easter Monday. Every year on that day
a rude figure of a man made of an old suit
of clothes stuffed with rags, hay, &c. is
carried OO a horse through all the streets.

* Blount.

The people who attend it call at everv
public-house, for the purpose of begging
liquor for its thirsty attendants, who are
always numerous. During its progress
the figure is shot at from all parts. When
the journey is finished, it is tied to the
market cross, and the shooting is conti-
nued till it is set on fire, and falls to the
ground. The populace then commence
tearing the effigy in pieces, trampling it in
mud and water, and throwing it in every
direction. This riot and confusion are
increased by help of a reservoir of water
being let off, which runs down the streets,
and not unfrequently persons obtain large
quantities of hay, rags, &c. independent
of that which falls from the effigy. The
greatest heroes at this time are of 'the
coarsest nature.

The origin of this custom is of so an-
cient a nature that it admits of no real
explanation : some assert that it is intended
as a mark of respect to an ancient family
others deem it a disrespect. Dr. Hib-
bert considers it to have the same mean-
ing as the gool-riding in Scotland, estab-
lished for the purpose of exterminating
weed from corn, on pain of forfeiting a
wether sheep for every stock of gool found
growing in a farmer 'scorn. Gool is the
yellow flower called the corn Marygold.

It is further supposed, that this custom
originated with one of the Assheton's, who
possessed a considerable landed property
in this part of Lancashire. He was vice-
chancellor to Henry VI., who exercised
great severity on his own lands, and esta-
blished the gool or guld riding. He is
said to have made his appearance on
Easter Monday, clad in black armour, and
on horseback, followed by a numerous
train for the purpose of claiming the
penalties arising from the neglect of
farmers clearing their corn of the " carr
gulds." The tenants looked upon this
visit with horror, and tradition has still
perpetuated the prayer that was offered
for a deliverance from his power :

" Sweet Jesu, for thy mercy's sake,
And for thy bitter passion ;

Save us from the axe of the Tower,
And from Sir Ralph of Assheton.

It is alleged that, on one of his visits on
Easter Monday, he was shot as he was
riding down the principal street, and that
the tenants took no trouble to find out the
murderer, but entered into a subscription,
the interest of which was to make an effigy
of disgrace to his memory. At the pre-
sent day, however, the origin is never

403

THE EVERY-DAY BOOKMARCH 27.

thought of. The money is now derived
from publicans whose interest it is to
keep up the custom. An old steel helmet
was used some years ago, but it is now no
more; a tin one is used instead.

This custom is applied to another pur-
pose. The occupation of the last couple
married in the old year are represented on
the effigy. If a. tailor, the shears hang
dangling by his side; if a draper, the
cloth yard, and so on. The effigy then at
the usual time visits the happy couple's
door, and unless the bearers are fed in a
handsome manner, the dividing gentle-
men are not easily got rid of. Some
authors state that it is the first couple in
the new year; but this is incorrect, as there
is always great pressing for marrying on
new year's day, in order to be sufficiently
early in the year.

Such is the custom of Blake Lad Monday
or Riding theBlack Lad, a custom which
thousands annually witness, and numbers
come from great distances to see. It is
the most thronged, and the most foolish,
day the Ashtonians can boast of.

C. C G. M. R. C. S. E.

It is observed by the historian of
" Manchester and Salford," that the most
prevalent of several traditions, as to the
origin of this custom, is, that it is kept up
to perpetuate the disgraceful actions of sir
Ralph Ashton, who in the year 1483, as
vice-constable of the kingdom, exercised
great severity in this part of the country.
From a sum issued out of the court to de-
fray the expense of the effigy, and from a
suit of armour, which till of late it usually
rode in, together with other traditional
particulars, there is another account of the
custom. According to this, in the reign
of Edward III., at the battle of Neville's
Cross, near Durham, his queen, with the
earl of Northumberland as general, gained
a complete victory over the Scots, under
David, king of Scotland, and in this battle
one Thomas Ashton of Ashton-under-
Lyne, of whom no other particulars are
known, served in the queen's army, rode
through the ranks of the enemy, and bore
away the royal standard from the Scottish
king's tent. For this act of heroism, Ed-
ward III. knighted him; he became sir
Thomas Ashton, of Ashton-under-Lyne;
and to commemorate his valour, he insti-
tuted the custom above described, and left
ten shillings yearly (since reduced to five)
to support it, with his own suit of black

470

velvet, and a coat of mail,ihe nelmet of
which yet remains."* It will be observed
in our correspondent's account, that the
helmet has at last disappeared.

"OLD VINEGAR,"

and

" Hard Metal Spoons."
William Conway, who cried " hard
metal spoons to sell or change," is men-
tioned by Mr. J.T.'Smith, as " a man
whose cry is well-known to the inhabi-
tants of London and its environs ;" but
since Mr. Smith wrote, the " cry" of Con-
way has ceased from the metropolis, and
from the remembrance of all, save a few
surviving observers of the manners in
humble life that give character to the
times. He is noticed here because he
introduces another individual connected
with the history of the season. Adopt-
ing Mr. Smith's language, we must speak
of Conway as though his " cry" were
still with us. " This industrious man,
who has eleven walks in and about Lon-
don, never had a day's illness, nor has
once slept out of his own bed ; and let
the weather be what it may, he trudges
on, and only takes his rest on Sundays.
He walks, on an average, twenty-five miles
a day ; and this he has done for nearly
forty -four years. His shoes are made
-rom old boots, and a pair will last him
about six weeks. In his walks he has
frequently found small pieces of money,
out never more than a one pound note.
He recollects a windmill standing near
Moorfields, and well remembers Old
Vinegar:^ Without this notice of Con-
way, we should not have known " Old
Vinegar," who made the rings for the
boxers in Moorfields, beating the shins
of the spectators, and who, after he had
arranged the circle, would cry out " mind
your pockets all round." He provided
sticks for the cudgel players, whose
sports commenced on Easter Monday. At
that time the "Bridewell boys" joined
in the pastime, and enlivened the day by
their skill in athletic exercises.

WETTING THE BLOCK.

For the Every-Day Book.

The first Monday in March beine the

time when shoemakers in the country

cease from working by candlelight, it

* Aikin's Manchester.

f Smith's Ancient Topography ?f tvondon,
.815, 4to.

471

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK MARCH 28, 29.

472

used to be customary for them to meet
together in the evening for the purpose
of wetting the block. On these occasions
Ihe master either provided a supper for
bis men, or made them a present of
money or drink ; the rest of the expense
was defrayed by subscriptions among
themselves, and sometimes by donations
from customers. After the supper was
ended, the block candlestick was placed
in the midst, the shop candle was lighted,
and all the glasses being filled, the oldest
hand in the shop poured the contents of
his glass over the candle to extinguish it :
the rest then drank the contents of theirs
standing, and gave three cheers. The
meeting was usually kept to a late hour.

This account of the custom is from
personal observation, made many years
ago, in various parts of Hampshire, Berk-
shire, and the adjoining counties. It is
now growing into disuse, which I think
is not to be regretted ; for, as it is mostly
a very drunken usage, the sooner it is
sobered, or becomes altogether obsolete the
better.

A SHOEMAKER.

N.B. In some places this custom took
place on Easter Monday.

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature ... 45 32.

jKarcft 28.

EASTER TUESDAY.

Formerly, " in the Easter holidays,
was the Clarke's-ale for his private bene-
fit, and the solace of the neighbourhood."*
Our ancestors were abundant drinkers;
they had their " bride-ales," church-ales,"
and other sort of ales, and their feats of
potation were so great as to be surprising
to their posterity ; the remainder of whom,
in good time, shall be more generally in-
formed of these regular drinking bouts.
" Easter-ale" was not always over with
Easter week. Excessive fasting begat
excessive feasting, and there was no feast
in old times without excessive drinking.
A morning head-ache from the contents
of the tankard was cured by " a hair of
the same dog," a phrase well under-
stood by hard -drinkers, signifying that
madness from drinking was to be cured
by the madness of drinking again. It is
in common use with drinkers of punch.

Aubrey.

Some of the days in this month 3eem

" For talking age and youthful lovers
made."

The genial breezes animate declining life,
and waft " visions of glory" to those
who are about to travel the journey ot
existence on their own account. In the
following lines, which, from the " Lady's
Scrap Book," whence they were extracted,
appear to have been communicated to her
on this day, by a worthy old gentleman
" of the old school/' there is a touch of
satirical good humour, that may heighten
cheerfulness.

No FLATTERY
From J. M Esq.

To Miss H

W-

March 28, 1825.

I never said thy face was fair,
Thy cheeks with beauty glowing ;

Nor whispered that thy woodland air
With grace was overflowing.

I never said thy teeth were white,
In hue were snow excelling ;

Nor called thine eye, so blue, so bright,
Young Love's celestial dwelling.

I never said thy voice so soft,
Soft heart but ill concealing ;

Nor praised thy sparkling glances oft,
So well thy thoughts revealing.

T never said thy taper form

Was, Hannah, more than handsome ;
Nor said thy heart, so young, so warm,

Was worth a monarch's ransom.

I never said to young or old

I felt no joy without thee :
jVo, Hannah, o, I never told

A single lie about thee.

NATURALISTS 7 CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature . . . 45 70.

29.

MARCH MORNINGS.
For the Every-Day Book.
There are frequently mornings in
March, when a lover of nature may enjoy,
in a stroll, sensations not to be exceeded,
or, perhaps, equalled by any thing which
the full glory of summer can awaken :
mornings, which tempt us to cast the me-
mory of winter, or the fear of its recur-
rence out of our thoughts. The air is
mild and balmy, with, now and then, a

473

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 30.

474

oool gush by no means unpleasant, but,
on the contrary, contributing towards that
cheering and peculiar feeling which we
experience only in spring. The sky is
clear, the sun flings abroad not only a
gladdening splendour, but an almost sum-
mer glow. The world seems suddenly
aroused to hope and enjoyment. The
fields are assuming a vernal greenness,
the buds are swelling in the hedges, the
banks are displaying amidst the brown
remains of last year's vegetation, the
luxuriant weeds of this. There are arums,
ground-ivy, chervil, the glaucous leaves,
and burnished flowers of the pilewort,

" The first gilt thing,
Which wears the trembling pearls of spring;"

and many another fresh and early burst of
greenery. All unexpectedly too, in some
embowered lane, you are arrested by the
delicious odour of violets thosp sweetest
of Flora's children, which have urnished
so many pretty allusions to the poets, and
which are not yet exhausted; they are
like true friends, we do not know half
their sweetness till they have felt the sun-
shine of our kindness ; and again, they
are like the pleasures of our childhood,
the earliest and the most beautiful. Now,
however, they are to be seen in all their
glory blue and white modestly peering
through their thickly clustering leaves.
The lark is carolling in the blue fields of
air; the blackbird and thrush are again
shouting and replying to each other from
the tops of the highest trees. As you pass
cottages, they have caught the happy in-
fection. There are windows thrown open,
and doors standing a-jar. The inhabitants
are in their gardens, some cleaning away
rubbish, some turning up the light and
fresh-smelling soil amongst the tufts of
snowdrops and rows of glowing yellow
crocus? s, which every where abound ; and
the children, ten to one, are busy peeping
into the first bird's-nest of the season the
hedge-sparrow's, with its four blue eggs,
snugly, but unwisely, built in the pile of
old pea-rods.

In the fields the labourers are plashing
and trimming the hedges, and in all
directions are teams at plough. You
smell the wholesome, and we may truly
say, aromatic soil, as it is turned up to the
sun, brown and rich, the whole country
over It is delightful as you pass along
dtep hollow lanes, or are hidden in
copses, to hear the tinkling gears of the
horses, and the clear voices of the lads

calling to them. It is not less pleasant
to catch the busy caw of the rookery, and
the first meek cry of the young lambs.
The hares are hopping about the fields,
the excitement of the season overcoming
their habitual timidity. The bees are re-
velling in the yellow catkins of the sallow.
The woods, though yet unadorned with
their leafy garniture, are beautiful to
look on. They seem flushed with life.
Their boughs are of a clear and glossy
lead colour, and the tree-tops are rich
with the vigorous hues of brown, red, and
purple ; and if you plunge into their soli-
tudes, there are symptoms of revivifica-
tion under your feet, the springing mer-
cury, and green blades of the blue-bells
and perhaps, above you, the early nest of
the missel-thrush perched between the
boughs of a young oak, to tinge your
thoughts with the anticipation of summer.

These are mornings not to be neglected
by the lover of nature ; and if not neg-
lected, then, not to be forgotten, for they
will stir the springs of memory, and make
us live over again times and seasons, in
which we cannot, for the pleasure and the
purity of our spirits, live too much.

Nottingham. W. H.

NATURALISTS CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature ... 45 12.

so.

KITTY FISHER.

On the 30th of March, 1 759, this cele-
brated female issued a singular advertise-
ment through the " Public Advertiser^
which shows her sensitiveness to public
opinion. She afterwards became duchess
of Bolton.

TO ERR is a blemish entailed upon
mortality, and indiscretion sel-
dom or never escapes without censure,
the more heavy, as the character is
more remarkable ; and doubled, nay
trebled, by the world, if that character is
marked by success : then malice shoots
against it all her stings, and the snakes of
envy are let loose. To the humane and
generous heart then must the injured ap-
peal, and certain relief will be found ir.
impartial honour. Miss Fisher is forced
to sue to that jurisdiction to protect her
from the baseness of little scribblers, and
scurvy malevolence. She has been abused

475

THE E VERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 31.

476

in public papers, exposed in print shops,
and, to wind up the whole, some wretches,
mean, ignorant, and renal, would impose
upon the public by daring to publish her
memoirs. She hopes to prevent the suc-
cess of their endeavours, by declaring
that nothing of that sort has the slightest
foundation in truth.

C. FISHER.

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature ... 44 67.

31.

JOHN HAMPDEN.

This celebrated man wrote a letter to
sir John Elliott, on this day, in the year
1631, which is deposited in the British

Museum.* At its date, which was long
before " the troubles of England," where-
in he bore a distinguished part, it
appears that he was absorbed by
constant avocation, and attention to the
business of others. The letter has been
obligingly transcribed and communicated
by our kind correspondent, T. A. It is
curious from its style and sentiments,
and is here printed, because it has not
before been published. The commencing
and concluding words are g.'ven /ac-
sinrile, from the original. It is addressed
thus,

To my honoured and

deare friend Sr.

JOHN ELLIOTT at

his lodging in

the Toiver.

Addit. MSS. 5016.

Tis well for mee that letters cannot blush, else you would easily reade mee guilty.
I am ashamed of so long a silence and know not how to excuse it, for as nothing
but businesse can speake for mee, of w cb kinde I have many advocates, so can I not
tell how to call any businesse greater than holding an affectionate correspondence
with so excellent a friend. My only confidence is I pleade at a barr of loue, where
absolutions are much more frequent then censures. Sure I ame that conscience of
neglect doth not accuse mee ; though euidence of fact doth. I would add more but
y a entertainment of a straunger friend calls upon mee, and one other unsuitable
occasion hold mee excused : therefore, deare friend, and if you vouchsafe mee a
letter, lett mee begg of you to teach mee some thrift of time ; that I may imploy
more in yo* service who will ever bee

Hampd.
March 31,
163t.

Command my service to
y souldierif not gone
to his colours.

THE SUN IN MARCH.
We may now see the great luminary

at half-past five in the morning if " we
shake off dull sloth," and set our faces

477

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. MARCH 31.

478

to be greeted by his, at his rising, in the
open air. Lying a bed is a sad destroyer
of health, and getting up early a vast im-
prover of time. It is an old and a true
saying, that "an hour in the morning
before breakfast, is worth two all the rest
of the day."

In "The Examiner" of the 31 st of March,
1822, there is the following pleasant little
story.

THE WONDERFUL PHYSICIAN.
One morning at daybreak a father came
into his son's bedchamber, and told him
that a wonderful stranger was to be seen.
" You are sick," said he, " and fond of
great shows. Here are no quack-doctors
now, nor keeping of beds. A remarkable
being is announced all over the town,
who not only heals the sick, but makes
the very grass grow ; and what is more,
he is to rise out of the sea." The boy,
though he was of a lazy habit, and did
not like to be waked, jumped up at hear-
ing of such an extraordinary exhibition,
and hastened with his father to the door
of the house, which stood upon the sea-
shore. " There," said the father, pointing
to the sun, which at that moment sprung
out of the ocean like a golden world,
" there, foolish boy, you who get me so
many expenses with your lazy diseases,
and yourself into so many troubles,
behold at last a remedy, cheap, certain,
and delightful. Behold at last a physi-
cian, who has only to look in your face
every morning at this same hour, and you
will be surely well."

PROVINCIAL MEDICAL PRACTICE.

Country people who are unusually
plain in notion, and straight forward in
conduct, frequently commit the care of
their health to 'very odd sort of practi-
tioners.

A late celebrated empiric, in York-
shire, called the Whitworth Doctor, was
of so great fame as to have the honour of
attending the brother of lord Thurlow.
The name of this doctor was Taylor:
he and his brother were farriers by pro-
fession, and to the last, if both a two-
legged and a four-legged patient were
presented at the same time, the doctor
always preferred the four-legged one.
Their practice was immense, as may be
well imagined from the orders they gave
the druggist ; they dealt principally w.itn

Ewbank and Wallis, of York, and a ton
of Glauber's salt, with other articles in
proportion, was their usual order. On a
Sunday morning the doctors used to bleed
gratis. The patients, often to the number
of an hundred, were seated on benches
round a room, where troughs were placed
to receive the blood. One of the doctors
then went and tied up the arm of each
patient, and was immediately followed by
the other who opened the vein. Such a
scene is easier conceived than described.
From their medical practice, the nice
formality of scales and weights was ba-
nished ; all was " rule of thumb" An
example of their practice may elucidate
their claim to celebrity : being sent for to
a patient who was in the last stage of a
consumption, the learned doctor prescribed
a leg of mutton to be boiled secundum
artem, into very strong broth, a quart of
which was to be taken at proper inter-
vals : what might have been its success
is not to be related, as the patient died
before the first dose was got down. As
bone-setters they were remarkably skilful,
and, perhaps, to their real merit in this,
and the cheapness of their medicines, they
were indebted for their great local fame.

The "Public Ledger" of the 31st oi
March, 1 825, contains

A crooked Coincidence.
A pamphlet published in the year
1703, has the following strange title:
" The deformity of sin cured, a sermon,
preached at St. Michael's, Crooked Lane,
before the Prince of Orange ; by the Rev.
James Crookshanks. Sold by Matthew
Dowton, at the Crooked Billet, near
Cripplegate, and by all other Booksel-
lers." The words of the text are, " Every
crooked path shall be made straight.'*
The Prince before whom it was preached
was deformed in his person.

A SEASONABLE EPITAPH

on the late
J. C. MARCH, Esq.

Death seemed so envious of my clay,
He bade me march and marched away ;
Now underneath the vaulted arch,
My corpse must change to dust and March,
J.R. P.

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature ... 44 22.

479

THE E VERY-DAY BOOK. APRIL.

430

APRIL.

On April, in old kalendars, is drawn

A gallant hawker, pacing on a lawn,

Holding a bell'd and hooded fowl of prey,

Ready to loose him in the airy way.

For daily, now, descends the solar beam,

And the warm earth seems in a waking dream ;

Insects creep out, leaves burst, and flowers rise,

And birds enchant the woods, and wing the skies ;

Each sentient being a new sense receives,

And eloquently looks, to each, it lives.

The name of this month is before ob-
served to have been derived from the verb
aperire* which signifies to open, because

""" * Vol. i. p, 407 t

seeds germinate, and at this season
flowers begin to blow; yet Macrobius
affirms that it is derived from a Greek
word signifying avhrilis, or descended

481

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. APRIL.

from Venus, or, born of the scum of the
sea, because Romulus dedicated the month
to Venus. This may be the real deriva-
tion ; the former is the most natural.

as many different colours. It is this, and
the budding forth of every living mem-
ber of the vegetable world, after its long
winter death, that in fact constitutes the
spring ; and the sight of which affects us ifi

April," says the author of the Mirror ** manner } doe f> from various causes
^M n^,"isspring-theonlyspring chiefly _^oral and associated ones; but

ofth .

month that we possess the most juvenile
of the months, and the most feminine
the sweetest month of all the year; partly
because it ushers in the May, and partly
for its own sake, so far as any^ thing can
be valuable without reference to any
thing else. It is, to May and June,
what 'sweet fifteen,' in the age of
woman, is to passion-striken eighteen,
and perfect two-and-twenty. It is

one of which is unquestionably physical :
I mean the sight of so much tender green
after the eye has been condemned to look
for months and months on the mere nega-
tion of all colour, which prevails in winter
in our climate. The eye feels cheered
cherished, and regaled by this colour, as
the tongue does by a quick and pleasant
taste, after having long palated nothing
but tasteless and insipid things. This is
the principal charm of spring, no doubt.

worth two Mays, because it tells tales of e P r "

May in every sigh that it breathes, and But another and one that is scarcely

. * ,. -. , i-. .1 t cornnH tr\ true 10 t

every tear that it lets fall. It is the har-
binger, the herald, the promise, the pro-
pnecy, the foretaste of all the beauties
that are to follow it of all, and more
of all the delights of summer, and all the
' pride, pomp, and circumstance of glo-
rious autumn.' It is fraught with beau-
ties that no other month can bring before
us, and

' It bears a glass which shows us many more.'
Its life is one sweet alternation of smiles
and sighs am! tears, and tears and sighs
and smiles, till it is consummated at last
in the open laughter of May."

By the same hand we are directed to
observe, "what a sweet flush of new
green has started up to the face of this
meadow ! Arid the new-born daisies
that stud it here and there, give it the
look of an emerald sky, powdered with
snowy stars. In making our way to
yonder hedgerow, which divides the
meadow from the little copse that lines one
side of it, let us not take the shortest way,
but keep religiously to the little footpath ;
for the young grass is as yet too tender
to bear being trod upon ; and the young
lambs themselves, while they go cropping
its crisp points, let the sweet daisies
alone, as if they loved to look upon a
sight as pretty and as innocent as them-
selves." It is further remarked that
* the great charm of this month, both in
the open country and the garden, is un-
doubtedly the infinite green which per-
vades it every where, and which we had
best gaze our fill at while we may, as it
lasts but a little while, changing in a
few weeks into an endless variety of
shades and tints, that are equivalent to
VOL. II. 68.

second to this, is, the bright flush of
blossoms that prevails over and almost
hides every thing else in the fruit-garden
and orchard. What exquisite differences
and distinctions and resemblances there
are between all the various blossoms of
the fruit-trees ; and no less in their
general effect than in their separate de-
tails ! The almond-blossom, which comes
first of all, and while the tree is quite bare
of leaves, is of a bright blush-rose colour;
and when they are fully blown, the tree,
if it has been kept to a compact head,
instead of being permitted to straggle,
looks like one huge rose, magnified by
some fairy magic, to deck the bosom of
some fair giantess. The various kinds of
plum follow, the blossoms of which are
snow-white, and as full and clustering as
those of the almond. The peach and
nectarine, which are now full blown, are
unlike either of the above; and their
sweet effect, as if growing out of the hard
bare wall, or the rough wooden paling, is
peculiarly pretty. They are of a deep
blush colour, and of a delicate bell shape,
the lips, however, divided, and turning
backward, to expose the interior to the
cherishing sun. But perhaps the bloom
that is richest and most promising in its
general appearance is that of the cherry,
clasping its white honours all round the
long straight branches, from heel to point,
and not letting a leaf or a bit of stem be
seen, except the three or four leaves that
come as a green finish at the extremity of
each branch. The other blossoms, of the
pears, and (loveliest of all) the apples, do
not come in perfection till next month/'

4S3 THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. APRIL. 484

,, T site description and just application. The
writers have traversed " woods and wilds,

The beauties of the seasons are a con- and fields, and lanes, with a curious and
stant theme with their discoverers the delighted eye," and " written not for the
poets. Spring, as the reproductive source sake of writing," but for the indulgence
of" light and life and love," has the pre- of their overflowing feelings. They are
eminence with these children of nature. " members of the Society of Friends,"
The authors of " The Forest Minstrel and and those who are accustomed to regard
other poems," William and Mary Howitt, individuals of that community as neces-
have high claims upon reflective and ima- sarily incapable of poetical impression,
ginative minds, in return for the truth and will be pleased by reading from Mr.
beauty contained in an elegant volume, Hewitt's " Epistle Dedicatory" what he
which cultivates the moral sense, and says of his own verses, and of his help-
infuses a devotional spirit, through exqui- mate in the v/ork:

And now 'tis spring, and bards are gathering flowers ;

So I have cull'd you these, and with them sent
The gleanings of a nymph whom some few hours

Ago I met with some few years I meant
Gathering " true-love" amongst the wild-wood bowers ;

You'll find some buds all with this posy blent,
If that ye know them, which some lady fair
Viewing, may haply prize, for they are wond'rous rare.

Artists have seldom represented friends fashion, which marks the wearer as re-

" of the Society of Friends," with markably formal ; while the young females

poetical feeling. Mr. Howitt's sketch of of the society, still preserving the distinc-

nimself, and her whom he found gathering tion prescribed by discipline, dress more

" true-love," though they were not clad attractively, to the cultivated eye. than a

perhaps " as worldlings are," would in- multitude of the sex who study variety of

spire a painter, whose art could be roused costume. Such lovers, pictured as they

by the pen, to a charming picture of are imagined from Mr. Hewitt's lines,

youthful affection. The habit of some of would grace a landscape, enfoliated from

'he young men, in the peaceable comrau- other stanzas in the same poem, which

nity, maintains its character, without that raise the fondest recollections of the plea*

extremity of the fashion of being out of sures of boyhood in spring.

Then did I gather, with a keen delight,

All changes of the seasons, and their signs :
Then did I speed forth, at the first glad sight

Of the coy spring of spring that archly shines
Out for a day then goes and then more bright

Comes laughing forth, like a gay lass that lines
A dark lash with a ray that beams and burns,
And scatters hopes and doubts, and smiles and frowns, by turns.

On a sweet, shining morning thus sent out,

It seem'd what man was made for, to look round
And trace the full brook, that, with clamorous route,

O'er fallen trees, and roots black curling, wound
Through glens, with wild brakes scattered all about ;

Where not a leaf or green blade yet was found
Springing to hide the red fern of last year,
And hemlocVs broken stems, and rustling rank grass sere,

But hazel catkins, and the bursting buds

Of the fresh willow, whispered " spring is coming ;"
And bullfinches forth flitting from the woods,

With their rich silver voices j and the humming

485 THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. APRIL 1. 486

Of a new waken'd bee that pass'd ; and the broods

Of ever dancing gnats, again consuming,
In pleasant sun-light, their re-given time ;
And the germs swelling in the red shoots of the lime.

All these were tell-tales of far brighter hours,

That had been, and again were on their way ;
The breaking forth of green things, and of flowers,

From the earth's oreast ; from bank and quickening spray
Dews, buds, and blossoms ; and in woodland bowers,

Fragrant and fresh, full many a sweet bird's lay,
Sending abroad, from the exultant spring,
To every living heart a gladsome welcoming. Howitt.

^P' 409 ') tnere * s an account of the sin-

, gular usage of fool-making to-day, which

ALL *OOLS DAY. may De f urt h e r illustrated by a few lines

In the first volume of the present work, from an almanac of 1 760 :

The first of April, some do say,

Is set apart for All Fool's-day ;

But why the people call it so,

Nor I, nor they themselves, do know.

But on this day are people sent

On purpose for pure merriment;

And though the day is known before,

Yet frequently there is great store

Of these forgetfuls to be found,

Who're sent to fiance Moll Dixon's round j

And having tried each shop and stall,

And disappointed at them all,

At last some tell them of the cheat,

And then they hurry from the street,

And straightway home with shame they run,

And others laugh at what is done.

But 'tis a thing to be disputed,

Which is the greatest fool reputed,

The man that innocently went,

Or he that him designedly sent. Poor Robin.

The custom of making April fools pre- vessel carried to receive the pease was not

vails all over the continent. A lady relates thrown at the head of the bearer.

that the day is further marked in Provence '

by every body, both rich and poor, having There is an amusing anecdote connected
for dinner, under some form or other, a with the church of the convent of the
sort of peas peculiar to the country, Chartreux, at Provence. It was dedicat-
called pot* chiches. While the convent ed to St. John, and over the portico were
of the Chartreux was standing, it was one colossal statues of the four evangelists,
of the great jokes of the day to send which have been thrown down and bioken
novices thither to ask for these peas, to pieces, and the fragments lie scattered
telling them that the fathers were obliged about. The first time Miss Plumptre
to give them away to any body who with her party visited this spot, they
vould come for them. So many applica- found an old woman upon her knees
tions were in consequence made in the before a block of stone, muttering some-
course of the day for the promised bounty, thing to herself: when she arose up,
.hat the patience of the monks was at last curiosity led them to inquire, whether
usually exhausted, and it was well if the there was any thing particular in . that

487

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. APRIL 2, 3.

488

tone ; to which she replied with a deep
sigh, Ah oui, Jest nn morceau de Saint
Jean, "Ah yes, 'tis a piece of Saint
John." The old lady seemed to think
that the saint's intercession in her behalf,
mutilated as he was, might still be of
some avail.

In Xylander's Plutarch there is a
passage in Greek, relative to the " Feast
of Fools," celebrated by the Romans, to
this effect, " Why do they call the Quiri-
nalia the Feast of Fools ? Either, because
they allowed this day (as Juba tells us) to
those who could not ascertain their own
tribes, or because they permitted those
who had missed the celebration of the
Fornacalia in their proper tribes, along
with the rest of the people, either out of
negligence, absence, or ignorance, to hold
their festival apart on this day."

The Romans on the first day of April
abstained from pleading causes, and the
Roman ladies performed ablutions under
myrtle trees, crowned themselves with its
leaves, and offered sacrifices to Venus.
This custom originated in a mythological
story, that as Venus was drying her wet-
ted hair by a river side, she was perceived
by satyrs, whose gaze confused her :

But soon with myrtles she her beauties

veiled,
From whence this annual custom was en-

tail'd.

Ovid.

NEWCASTLE.
Extract from the Common Council Book.

" April 1, 1695. All-Saints' parish
humbly request the metal of the statue,
towards the repair of their bells."

This refers to a statue of James II."
pulled down from the Exchange in con-
sequence of lord Lumley having entered
tho town and declared foi a free parlia-
ment. It was an equestrian figure in
copper, of the size of Charles I. at Char-
ing-cross. The mob demolished the
statue, dragged it to the quay, and cast it
into the ri ver. As the parish of All-Saints
uesired to turn the deposit to some ac-
count, the parish of St. Andrews peti-
tioned for a share of the spoil, and it
appears by the subjoined extract from the
council books, that each was accommo-
Jated.

" Ordered that All-Saints have the
metal belonging to the horse of the said
statue, except a leg thereof, which must
go towards the casting of a new bell for
St. Andrew's parish."

A print of the statue was published
" on two large sheets of Genoa paper,"
price 5*. by Joseph Barber of Newcastle.
There is an engraving from it in " Local
Records, by John Sykes, bookseller,
Newcastle, 1824," a book which consists
of a chronological arrangement of curious
and interesting facts, and events, that have
occurred exclusively in the counties of
Durham and Northumberland, Newcastle-
upon-Tyne, and Berwick, with an obituary
and anecdotes of remarkable persons.
The present notice is taken from Mr.
Sykes s work.

NATURALISTS CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature ... 44 17.

CHRONOLOGY.

On the 2d of April 1755, Severndroog
castle, on the coast of Malabar, belonging
to Angria, a celebrated pirate, was taken
by commodore James. His relict, to
commemorate her husband's heroism, and
to testify her affectionate respect to his me-
mory, erected a tower of the same name
on Shooters-hill, near Blackheath, where
it is a distinguished land-mark at an
immense distance to the circumjacent
country.

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature ... 44 37.

SIGNS OF THF SEASONS.
It is noticed on this day in the " Peren-
nial Calendar," that the birds are now
arriving daily, and forming arrangements
for the hatching and nurture of their
future young. The different sorts of
nests of each species, adapted to the
wants of each, and springing out of their
respective instincts, combined with the
propensity to construct, would form a
curious subject of research for the natural
historian. Every part of the world fur-
nishes materials for the aerial architects :
leaves and small twigs, roots and dried
grass, mixed with clay, serve for the ex-

489 THE EVEIIY-DAY BOOK. APRIL 3. 490

ternal ; whilst moss, wool, fine hair, and form the warm internal part ;of these
the softest animal and vegetable downs, commodious dwellings :

Of vernal songsters some to the holly hedge,

Nestling, repair, and to the thicket some ;

Some to the rude protection of the thorn

Commit their feeble offspring : the cleft tree

Offers its kind concealment to a few,

Their food its insects, and its moss their nests :

Others apart, far in the grassy dale

Or roughening waste, their humble texture weave :

But most in woodland solitudes delight,

In unfrequented glooms or shaggy banks,

Steep, and divided by a babbling brook,

Whose murmurs soothe them all the livelong day,

When by kind duty fixed. Among the roots

Of hazel, pendent o'er the plaintive stream,

They frame the first foundation of their domes,

Dry sprigs of trees, in artful fabric laid,

And bound with clay together. Now 'tis naught

But restless hurry through the busy air,

Beat by unnumbered wings. The swallow sweeps

The slimy pool, to build the hanging house

Intent : and often from the careless back

Of herds and flocks a thousand tugging bills

Pluck hair and wool ; and oft, when unobserved,

Steal from the barn a straw; till soft and warm,

Clean and complete, their habitation grows. Thornton.

The cavern-loving wren sequestered seeks

The verdant shelter of the hollow stump,

And with congenial moss, harmless deceit,

Constructs a safe abode. On topmost boughs

The glossy raven, and the hoarsevoiced crow,

Rocked by the storm, erect their airy nests.

The ousel, lone frequenter of the grove

Of fragrant pines, in solemn depth of shade

Finds rest; or 'mid the holly's shining leaves,

A simple bush the piping thrush contents,

Though in the woodland concert he aloft

Trills from his spotted throat a powerful strain,

And scorns the humbler quire. The lark too asks

A lowly dwelling, hid beneath a tur/,

Or hollow, trodden by the sinking hoof;

Songster of heaven ! who to the sun such lays

Pours forth, as earth ne'er owns. Within the hedge

The sparrow lays her skystained eggs. The barn,

With eaves o'erpendant, holds the chattering tribe :

Secret the linnet seeks the tangled copse :

The white owl seeks some antique ruined wall,

Fearless of rapine ; or in hollow trees,

Which age has caverned, safely courts repose :

The thievish pie, in twofold colours clad,

Roofs o'er her curious nest with firmwreathed twigs,

And sidelong forms her cautious door ; she dreads

The taloned kite, or pouncing hawk ; savage

Herself, with craft suspicion ever dwells. Bullnka.

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR
Mean Temperature ... 43 37.

491

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. APRIL 4, .5.

492

t'l 4.

CHEAP WEATHER GUIDE.

To the Editor of the Every- Day Book.
Cornhill, March, 1826,

Sir, The following observations on the
leechworm were made by a gentleman
who kept one several years for the pur-
pose of a weather-glass :

A phial of water, containing a leech,
I kept on the frame of my lower sash
window, so that when I looked in the
morning I could know what would be the
weather of the following day. If the
weather proves serene and beautiful, the
leech lies motionless at the bottom of the
glass, and rolled together in a spiral
form.

If it rains, either before or after noon,
it is found crept up to the top of its
lodging, and there it remains till the
weather is settled. If we are to have
wind, the poor prisoner gallops through
its limped habitation with amazing swift-
ness, and seldom rests till it begins to
blow hard.

If a storm of thunder and rain is to
succeed, for some days before it lodges,
almost continually, without the water,
and discovers very great uneasiness in
violent throes and convulsions.

In the frost, as in clear summer wea-
ther, it lies constantly at the bottom ;
and in snow, as in rainy weather, it
pitches its dwelling upon the very mouth
of the phial.

What reasons may be assigned for
these circumstances I must leave philo-
sophers to determine, though one thing is
evident to every body, that it must be
affected in the same way as that of the
mercury and spirits in the weather-glass.
It has, doubtless, a very surprising sensa-
tion ; for the change of weather, even
days before, makes a visible alteration
upon its manner of living.

Perhaps it may not be amiss to note,
that the leech was kept in a common
eight-ounce phial glass, about three-
quarters filled with water, and covered on
the mouth with a piece of linen rag. In
the summer the water is changed once a
a week, and in the winter once a fort-
night. This is a weather-glass which
may be purchased at a very trifling ex-
pense, and which will last 1 do not know
how many years.

I am, &c

J. F.

NATURALISTS CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature ... 44 82.

SWALLOWS IN 1826.
Our friend J. H. H. whose letter on wild-
fowl shooting, from Abbeville, is in vol. i.
p. 1575, with another on lark shooting
in France in the present volume, p. 91,
writes from Southover, near Lewes, in
Sussex, on this day, 1826, "How de-
lightful the country looks ! I shall leave
you to imagine two swallows, the first I
have seen, now preening themselves on
the barn opposite, heartily glad that their
long journey is at an end." The birds*
come to us this year very early.

Pump with two Spouts.

In a letter of the 5th of April, 1808,
to Dr. Aikin, inserted in his " Athe-
naeum," Mr. Roots says, " In the year
1801, being on a tour through the High-
lands of Scotland, I visited the beautiful
city of Glasgow, and in passing one of
the principal streets in the neighbourhood
of the Tron church, I observed about
five-and-twenty or thirty people, chiefly
females, assembled round a large public
pump, waiting their separate turns for
water ; and although the pump had two
spouts for the evacuation of the water
behind and before, I took notice that one
of the spouts was carefully plugged up,
no one attempting to fill his vessel from
that source, whilst each was waiting till
the rest were served, sooner than draw
the water from the spout in question.
On inquiry into the cause of this pro-
ceeding, I was informed by an intelligent
gentleman residing in the neighbourhood,
that though one and the same handle
produced the same water from the same
well through either of the spouts, yet the
populace, and even better informed peo-
ple, had for a number of years conceived
an idea, which had been handed down
from father to son, that the water when
drawn from the hindermost spout would
be of an unhtcky and poisonous nature;
and this vulgar prejudice is from time to
time kept afloat, inasmuch, as by its being
never used, a kind of dusty fur at length
collects, and the water, when suffered
from curiosity to pass through, at first
runs foul ; and this tends to carry con-
viction still further to these ignorant peo-
ple, who with the most solemn assnrancei

493

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. APRIL 6, 7.

494

informed me, it was certain death to
taste of the water so drawn, and no argu-
ment could divest them of their supersti-
tious conceit, though the well had been
repeatedly cleaned out, before them, by
order of the magistrates, and the internal
mechanism of the pump explained. We
need not be surprised at the bigotted
ignorance of the ruder ages, either in
this country or in less civilized regions,
when we witness facts so grossly supersti-
tious obtaining in our own time."

NATURALISTS CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature ... 45 67.

SPRING.

This period of the year is so awakening
to intellectual powers, that for a few days
some matters of fact are occasionally
deferred in favour of imaginative and
descriptive effusions occasioned by the
season.

THE POET'S PEN.
(From the Greek of Menecrates.)

I was an useless reed; no cluster hung

My brow with purple grapes, no blossom flung

The coronet of crimson on my stem ;

No apple blushed upon me, nor (the gem

Of flowers) the violet strewed the yellow heath

Around my feet, nor Jessamine's sweet wreath

Robed me in silver : day and night I pined

On the lone moor, and shiver'd in the wind.

At length a poet found me. From my side

He smoothed the pale and withered leaves, and dyed

My lips in Helicon. From that high hour

I SPOKE ! My words were flame and living power,

All the wide wonders of the earth were mine,

Far as the surges roll, or sunbeams shine ;

Deep as earth's bosom hides the emerald ;

High as the hills with thunder clouds are pall'd.

And there was sweetness round me, that the dew

Had never wet so sweet on violet's blue.

To me the mighty sceptre was a wand,

The roar of nations peal'd at my command ;

To me the dungeon, sword, and scourge were vain,

I smote the smiter, and I broke the chain;

Stars, temples, thrones, and gods infinity.

Pulci

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature ... 46 84.

SAINTS.

Our old acquaintance with the saints is
not broken : but they are sad intruders on
the beauties of the world, and we part
from them, for a little while, after the an-
lexed communication of an attempt to
aonour them

SERMON AT ST. ANDREW'S.
For the Every-Day Book.

The following anecdote, under the ar-
ticle " Black Friars," in Brand's " History
of Newcastle-upon-Tyne," as a specimen
of the extreme perversion of mind in the
Romish clergy of former times, is curious,
and may amuse your readers as much as
it has me.

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. APRIL 8.

496

Richard Marshall, who had been one of
the brethren, and also prior of the house,
in the year 1521, at St. Andrew's, Scot-
land, informed his audience there, that
Pater noster should be addressed to God
and not to the saints. The doctors of St.
Andrew's, in their great wisdom, or rather
craftiness, appointed a preacher to oppose
this tenet, which he did in a sermon from
Matt. v. 3. " Blessed are the poor in
spirit." " Seeing," says he, " we say
good day, father, to any old man in the
street, we may call a saint, pater, who is
older than any alive : and seeing they are
in heaven, we may say to any of them,
* hallowed be thy name ;' arid since they
are in the kingdom of heaven, we may say
to any of them ' thy kingdom come :' and
seeing their will is God's will, we may
say, thy ivill be done,' " &c. When
the friar was proceeding further, he was
hissed and even obliged to leave the city.
Yet we are told, the dispute continued
among the doctors about the pater. Some
would have it said to God formaliter, to
the saints materialiter ; others, to God
principaliter, to the saints minus princi-
paliter ; or primario to God, secundario
to the saints ; or to God stride, and to
the saints late. With all these distinc-
tions they could not agree. It is said,
that Tom, who was servant to the sub-
prior of St Andrew's, one day perceiving
his master in trouble, said to him, u Sir,
what is the cause of your trouble ?" The
master answered, " We cannot agree
about the saying of the pater.' 1 The fel-
low replied, " To whom should it be said
but to God alone?" The master asks,

" What then shall we do with the saints?"
To which Tom rejoined, " Give them
ave's and crede's enough, that may suf-
fice them, and too well too." The readers
of the Every-Day Book will probably
think that Tom was wiser or honester
than his master. J. F.

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature ... 47 10.

FLOWERS.

On this day in the " Perennial Calen-
dar," Dr. Forster observes, that it may
be proper to notice the general appear-
ance of the wild and less cultivated parts
of nature at this time. In the fields, the
bulbous crowfoot, ranunculus bulbosus,
begins to blow. Daisies become pretty
common, and dandelions are seen here
and there by road sides, and in fields, on
a warm soil, are pretty abundant. The
pilewort, ficaria verna, still decorates the
thickets and shady green banks with its
bright yellow stars of gold. It may be
observed generally, that the flowers found
at this time belong to the primaveral
Flora ; those of the vernal being as yet
undeveloped. By the sides of rivers,
streams, and ponds, along the wet mar-
gins of ditches, and in moist meadows,
and marshes, grows the marsh marigold,
caltha palustris, whose golden yellow
flowers have a brilliant effect at a small
distance.

Prolific gales

Warm the soft air, and animate the vales.
W^oven with flowers and shrubs, and freshest green,
Thrown with wild boldness o'er the lovely scene
A brilliant carpet, of unnumbered dyes,
With sweet variety enchants the eyes.
Thick are the trees with leaves ; in every grove
The feathered minstrels tune their throats to love.

Kleitt.
To the Editor of the Every-Day Book.

DOMESTIC ANTIQUITIES,

and a

LETTER OF LORD THURLOW'S.
A gentleman indulges the editor with
the following account of a singular house-
hold utensil, and a drawing of it, from
whence a correct engraving has been
made ; together with a letter from the
late lord chancellor Thurlow, which from
his distinguished hand on a singular oc-
currence, merits preservation.

Aprit 3,1826.
Sir, I shall be happy to communi-
cate any thing in my power, connected
with antiquities to the Every-Day Book,
which I have taken from the beginning
and been highly pleased with ; and, first,
I send you a drawing for insertion, if yoa
think it worthy, of a carving, in my pos>
session, on an ancient oak board, two
feet in diameter,

497

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. APRIL 8.

498

ancient Cartons.

It represents the letters 3f |) * in the centre, surrounded by this legend, viz.

*' An harte that is wyse wyll obstine from
rinnes andincreas in the workes of God."

As this legend reads backward, and all
the carving is incuse, it was evidently in-
tended to give impression to something ;
I imagine pastry.

An original letter is now before me,
from lord chancellor Thurlow, to a
Norfolk farmer, who had sent him a
hare, and two and a half brace of par-
tridges, enclosed in a large turnip of his
own growth. The farmer had not any
personal knowledge of his lordship, but,
being aware he was a Norfolk man, he
rightly conceived that his present would
be looked upon with more interest on
that account. The following is a copy
of the chancellor's letter:

Bath, Dec. 31, 1778.
Sir, I beg you will accept of my best
thanks for you* agreeable present. It
gave me additional satisfaction to be so
remembered in my native country; to
which I, in particular, owe every sort
of respect, and all the world agrees to
admire for superiority in husbandry.
I am, Sir,

Your most obliged
And obedient servant,

THURLOW.

Having transcribed his lordship's an-
swer, you are at liberty to do with that,
and the drawing of my carving, as you
please ; with this " special observance/'

499

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. APRIL 9, 10.

500

that you do not insert my name, which,
nevertheless, for your satisfaction, I sub-
scribe, with my abode.

Believe me, Sir, &c.

ETA.

\* The editor is gratified by the con-
fidence reposed in him by the gentleman
who wrote the preceding letter. He takes
this opportunity of acknowledging similar
marks of confidence, and reiterates the
assurance, that such wishes will be always
scrupulously observed.

It is respectfully observed to possessors
of curiosities of any kind, whether ancient
or modern, that if correct drawings of
them be sent they shall be faithfully en-
graven and inserted, with the descriptive
accounts.

The gradual disappearance of many
singular traces of our ancestors, renders it
necessary to call attention to the subject.
4< Apostle Spoons," of which there is an
engraving in vol. i. p. 178, have been
dropping for the last thirty years into the
refiner's melting-pot, till sets of them are
not to be purchased, or even seen, except
in cabinets. Any thing of interest re-
specting domestic manners, habits, or
customs, of old times, is coveted by the
editor for the purpose of recording and
handing them down to posterity.

NATURALISTS* CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature ... 46 72.

AN APRIL DAY.

Some verses in the " Widow's Tale,
are beautifully descriptive of the season.

All day the lowhung clouds have dropt

Their garnered fulness down ;
All day that soft grey mist hath wrapt

Hill, valley, grove, and town.
There has not been a sound to-day

To break the calm of nature ;
Nor motion, I might almost say,

Of life or living creature ;
Of waving bough, or warbling bird,

Or cattle faintly lowing ;
I could have half believed I heard

The leaves and blossoms growing.
I stood to hear I love it well,

The rain's continuous sound,
Small drops, but thick and fast, they fell,

Down straight into the ground.
For leafy thickness is not yet

Earth's naked breast to screen,
Though every dripping branch is set

With shoots of tender green.

Sure, since I looked at early morn,

Those honeysuckle buds
Have swelled to double growth ; that thorn

Hath put forth larger studs';
That lilac's cleaving cones have burst,

The milkwhite flowers revealing ;
Even now, upon my senses first

Methinks their sweets are stealing.
The very earth, the steamy air.

Is all with fragrance rife ;
And grace and beauty every where

Are flushing into life.

Down, down they come those fruitful
stores !

Those earth-rejoicing drops !
A momentary deluge pours,

Then thins, decreases, stops ;
And ere the dimples on the stream

Have circled out of sight,
Lo ! from the west, a parting gleam

Breaks forth of amber light.
But yet behold abrupt and loud,

Comes down the glittering rain ;
The farewell of a passing cloud,

The fringes of her train.

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature. . . 47 17.

10.

THE SEASON.

Art, as well as nature, is busily occu-
pied in providing for real wants or natu-
ral desires. To gratify the ears and eyes
of the young, we have more street organs
and shows in spring than in the autumn,and
the ad ventures of that merry fellow " Punch
in the Puppet-show," are represented to
successive crowds in every street, whence
his exhibitors conceive they can extract
funds for the increase of their treasury.

A kind hand communicates an article
of curious import, peculiarly seasonable.

PUNCH IN THE PUPPET SHOW.
To the Editor of the Every-Day Book.

Sir, I do not know, whether in the ab-
sence of more interesting matter, a few re-
marks on an old favourite may be allowed.
The character I am about to mention,
has I am sure at one time or another de-
lighted most of your readers, and I con-
fess to be still amused with his vagaries
I mean " that celebrated wooden Ros-
cius, Mister Punch. 1 ' It is very difficult
to trace accurately the origin and varia-
tion of any character of this description ;
and I shall, therefore, only offer some
unconnected notices.

In some of the old mysteries, wherein
you are so well read, " the devil" was
the buffoon of the piece, and used to in-

501

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. APRIL 10.

502

dulge himself most freely in the gross
indecencies tolerated in the earlier ages.
When those mysteries began to be re-
fined into moralities, the vice gradually
superseded the former clown, if he may
be so designated ; and at the commence-
ment of such change, frequently shared
the comic part of the performance with
him. The vice was armed with a dagger
of lath, with which he was to belabour
the devil, who, sometimes, however, at
the conclusion of the piece, carried off the
vice with him. Here we have something
like the club wielded by Punch, and the
wand of harlequin, at the present time,
and a similar finish of the devil and
Punch, may be seen daily in our streets.
About the beginning of the sixteenth
century the drama began to assume a
more regular form, and the vice, in his
turn, had to make way for the clown or
fool, who served to fill up the space be-
tween the acts, by supposed extempo-
raneous witticisms ; holding, occasionally,
trials of wit with any of the spectators
who were bold enough to venture with
him. The last play, perhaps, in which
the regular fool was introduced, was
" The Woman Captain" of Shad-
well, in the year 1680. Tarleton,
in the time of Shakspeare, was a cele-
brated performer of this ' description.
The fool was frequently dressed in a
motley or party-coloured coat, and each
leg clad in different coloured hose. A
sort of hood covered his head, resem-
bling a monk's cowl : this was afterwards
changed for a cap, each being usually
surmounted with the neck and head of a
cock, or sometimes only the crest, or
comb; hence the term cockscomb. In
bis hand he carried the bauble, a short
stick, having at one end a fool's head,
and at the other, frequently a bladder
with peas or sand, to punish those who
offended him. His dress was often
adorned with morris-bells, or large knobs.
We may observe much similarity to this
dress, in the present costume of Punch.
He degenerated into a wooden performer,
about the time that the regular tragedy
and comedy were introduced, i. e. in the
beginning of the sixteenth century. Strol-
ling players were piohibited a few years
afterwards, and some of those performers
who had not skill or interest enough to
get a situation in any established com-
pany, went about the country with pup-
pet shows, or " motions," as they 'were
then called wherein Punch was a pro-

minent character, though not by that
name, which WPS a subsequent im-
portation, originally Policinello, or Pun-
chinello; and when this name was
introduced from the continent, some
modifications were made also in the cha-
racter to whom the name was attached.
The civil wars, and subsequent triumph
of puritanism, depressed theatrical pro-
ceedings, and Punch with other per-
formers was obliged to hide himself, or
act by stealth ; but in the jovial reign of
Charles II., he, and his brother actors,
broke out with renewed splendour, and
until the time of George I. he maintained
his rank manfully, being mentioned with
considerable respect even by the " Specta-
tor." About this time, however, harle-
quinades were introduced, and have been
so successfully continued, that poor Punch
is contented to walk the streets like a
snail, with his house on his back, though
still possessing as much fun as ever.

Pantomime, in its more extended
sense, was known to the Greek and
Roman stages, being introduced on the
latter by Pylades and Bathyllus, in the
time of Augustus Caesar. From that
time to the present, different modifica-
tions of this representation have taken
place on the continent, and the lofty
scenes of ancient pantomime, are dege-
nerated to the bizarre adventures of har-
lequin, pantaloon, zany, pierrot, scara-
mouch, &c.-

The first pantomine performed by gro-
tesque characters in this country, was at
Drury-lane theatre, in the year 1702. It
was composed by Mr. Weaver, and called
" The Tavern Bilkers." The next was
performed at Drury-lane in 1716, and it
was also composed by Mr. Weaver, in
imitation of the ancient pantomime, and
called " The Loves of Mars and Venus."

In 1717, the first harlequinade, com-
posed by Mr. Rich, was performed at the
theatre in Lincoln's Inn Fields, called,
" Harlequin Executed." This performer,
who acted under the name of Lun, was
so celebrated for his taste in composing
these entertainments, and for his skill, as
a harlequin, that they soon became esta-
blished in the public favour. He flourish-
ed until the year 1761, and all his pro-
ductions succeeded.

The harlequin on the French stage
differed from ours, for he had considerable
license of speech, somewhat similar to the
theatric fools of the sixteenth century.
Many of the witticisms of Dominique, a

503

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. APRIL 10.

604

celebrated harlequin in the time of Louis
XIV. are still on record ; it is said, in-
deed, that before his time, harlequin was
but a grotesque ignorant character, but
that he being a man of wit, infused it into
his representation, and invented the cha-
racter of Pierrot as a foolish servant, to
fill up the piece. The old character of
zany was similar to our modern clown,
who now is generally the possessor of all
the wit in the performance. The name of
pantaloon is said to have been derived
from the watch-word of the Venetians,
pianta leone ; if so, (which is doubtful)
it must hare been applied in derision of
their fallen state, as compared with their
former splendour. A more doubtful
origin has been given of the name of
harlequin ; a young Italian actor of emi-
nence in this style of character, came to
Paris in the time of Henry III. of France,
and having been received into the house
of the president, Achilles de Harlai, his
brother actors, are said to have called him
harlequino, from the name of his master.
There was a knight called Harlequin, an
extravagant dissipated man, who spent
his substance in the wars of Charles Mar-
tel, against the Saracens, and afterwards
lived by pillage. Tradition says he was
saved from perdition in consequence of
his services against the infidels, but con-
demned for a certain time to appear
nightly upon earth, with those of his
lineage.

But, as to derivations, some have de-
rived the 'term merry-andrew, from the
time of the Druids, an Drieu, i. e. Arch-
Druid, others, from the celebrated An-
drew Borde, the writer and empiric. The
merry-andrew used at fairs to wear a
patched coat like the modern harlequin,
and sometimes a hunch on his back. It
has been remarked that the common
people are apt to give to some well-known
facetious personage, the name of a fa-
vourite dish; hence, the jack-pudding of
the English ; the jean-potage of the
French ; the macaroni of the Italians, &c.

A word or two more about Punch, and
I have done. There are some hand-bills
in the British Museum, of the time of
queen Ann, from whence I made a few
extracts some time ago. They principally
relate to the shows at Bartlemy fair, and I
observe at " Heatly's booth," that " the
performances will be compleated with the
merry humors of sir John Spendall and
Punchinello ;" and James Miles, at " the
Gun-Musick booth," among other dances

&c., exhibited " a new entertainment
between a scaramouch, a harlequin, and
a punchinello, in imitation of bilking a
reckoning, and a new dance by four
scaramouches, after the Italian manner,"
&c.

The famous comedian Edwin, (the
Liston of his day) acted the part of Punch,
in a piece called " The Mirror," at Covent-
garden theatre : in this he introduced a
burlesque song by C. Dibdin, which ob-
tained some celebrity ; evidently through
the merit of the actor, rather than the
song, as it has nothing particular to re-
commend it.

Can't you see by my hunch, sir,

Faddeldy daddeldy diuo,
I am master Punch, sir,

Riberi biberi bino,

Fiddeldy, diddeldy, faddeldy, daddeldy,
Robbery, bobbery, ribery, bibery,
Faddeldy, daddeldy, dino,
Ribery, bibery, bino.

That merry fellow

Punchinello,

Dancing here, you see, sir,

Whose mirth not hell

Itself can quell

He's ever in such glee, sir,
Niddlety, noddlety, niddlety, noddlety,
niddlety, noddlety, nino.

Then let me pass, old Grecian,

Faddeldy, daddeldy, dino.

To the fields Elysian,

Bibery, bibery, bino.
Fiddledy, diddledy, faddledy, daddledr,
Robbery, bobbery, ribery, bibery,
Faddledy, daddledy, dino,
Ribery, bibery, bino.

My ranting, roaring Pluto,

Faddledy, daddledy, dino,

Just to a hair will suit oh,

Bibery, bibery, bino.

Faddledy, daddledy, &c.

Each jovial fellow,

At Punchinello,

Will, laughing o'er his cup roar,

I'll rant and revel,

And play the devil,

And set all hell in an uproar,

Niddlety, noddlety, nino.
Then let me pass, &c.

I therewith conclude this hasty com-
munication, begging you to shorten it if
you think proper.

I 'am, &c.

W. S .

Edwin's song in the character of Punch
is far less offensive than many of the
songs and scenes in " Don Juan," which

605

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. APRIL 11.

SCO

is still represented. This drama -which is
of Italian origin, the editor of the Every-
Day Book, in his volume on " Ancient
Mysteries," has ventured to conjecture^
may have been derived from the adven-
tures of the street Punch. The supposition

is somewhat heightened by Edwin's song
as the Punch of Covent-garden.

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature ... 48 32.

aprtt 11.

" Merry Islington."

ISLINGTON PARISH DINNER.

In March, an anonymous correspond-
ent obligingly enclosed, and begged my
acceptance of a ticket, for a parish dinner
at Islington, on the llth of April,
1738. It would have been rudeness to
decline the civility, and as the editor was
not prepared to join the guests at the
great dinner, " not where they eat, but
where they are eaten," he appropriates
the ticket to the use for which it was in-
tended by the donor, T. H. of St. John-
street.

It would do the reader's heart good to

see this ticket " printed from a copper
plate," ten inches high, by seven inches
wide as large as a lord mayor's ticket,
and looking much better, because en-
graved by Toms, a fine firm artist of " the
good old school," which taught truth as
an essential, and prohibited refinements,
not existing in nature or sensible objects,
as detraction of character.

It would do the reader's heart good, I
say, to see the dinner ticKet I am now
looking afr First, above the invitation
which is all that the lover of a dinner first
sees and therefore, because nothing

507

THEEVERY-DAY BOOK. APRIL 11.

508

precedes it, "above all" is a capital
view of the old parish church, and the
churchyard, wherein "lie the remains"
of most of the company who attended
the parish dinner it being as certain that
the remains of the rest of the company,
occupy other tenements, of " the house
appointed for all living," as that they all
lived, and ate and drank, and were
merry.

This is not a melancholy, but a natural
"iew. It may be said, there is " a time
for all things,'' but if there be any time,
wherein we fear to entertain death, we
are not fully prepared to receive him as
we ought. It is true, that with " the cup
of kindness" at our lips, we do not ex-
pect his friendly "shake," before we
finish the draught, yet the liquor will not
be the worse for our remembering that
his is a previous engagement; and, as
we do not know the hour of appointment,
we ought to be ready at all hours. The
business of life is to die.

I am not a member of a parish club,
but I have sometimes thought, if I could
" do as others do," and " go to club,"
I should elect to belong to an old one,
which preserved the minutes of its pro-
ceedings, and its muniments, from the
commencement. My first, and perhaps
last, serious motion, would be, "That
each anniversary dinner ticket of the
club, from the first ticket to the last
issued, should be framed and glazed, and
hung on the walls of the club room, in
chronological order." Such a series
would be a never-failing source of in-
terest and amusement. If the parish
club of Islington exists, a collection of
its tickets so disposed, might be regarded
as annals of peculiar worth, especially if
many of its predecessors in the annual
office of "stewards for the dinner,"
maintained the consequence of the club
in the eyes of the parish, by respectability
of execution and magnitude in the anni-
versary ticket, commensurate with that of
the year 1738, with Toms's view of the
old parish church and churchyard. I
regret that these cannot be here given in
the same size as on the ticket ; the best
that can be effected, is a reduced fac-
simile of the original, which is accom-
plished in the accompanying engrav-
ing. Let any one who knows the new
church of Islington, compare i^with the
present view of the old church, and say
which church he prefers. At this time,
however, the present church ma, be

more suitable to Islington, grown, or
grown up to, as it is, until it is a part of
London ; but who would not wish it still
a village, with the old edifice for its
parish church. That Islington is now
more opulent and more respectable, may
be very true ; but opulence monopolizes,
and respectability is often a vain show in
the stead of happiness, and a mere flaunt
on the ruins of comfort. The remark is,
of course, general, and not of Islington
in particular, all of whose opulent
or respectable residents, may really be
so, for aught I know to the contrary. Be
it known to them, however, on the au-
thority of the old dinner ticket, that their
predecessors, who succeeded the inhab-
itants from whose doings the village
was called "merry Islington," appear to
have dined at a reasonable hour, enjoyed
a cheerful glass, and lived in good
fellowship.

Immediately beneath the view of the
old church on the ticket, follows the
stewards' invitation to the dinner, here
copied and subjoined verbatim.

SIR,

You are desir'd to meet many others,
NATIVES of this place, on TUESDAY,
ye llth Day of April, 1738, at Mrs.
ELIZ. GRIMSTEAD'S, y e ANGEL & CROWN,
in y e upper Street, about y e Hour of
ONE ; Then, & there w th - FULL DISHES,
GOOD WINE, & GOOD HUMOUR, to im-
prove & make lasting that HARMONY,
and FRIENDSHIP which have so long
reigned among us.

Walter Sebbon
John Booth
Bourchier Durell
James Sebbon

STEWARDS.

N.B. THE DINNER will be on the
Table peremptorily at Two.

Pray Pay the. Bearer Five Shillings.

" Merry Islington !" We may almost
fancy we see the "jolly companions, every
one," in their best wigs, ample coats, and
embroidered waistcoats, at their dinner ;
that we hear the bells ringing out from
the square tower of the old church, and
the people and boys outside the door of
the "Angel and Crown, in ye Upper
Street," huzzaing and rejoicing, that their
betters were dining "for the good of the

609

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. APRIL 12.

510

parish" for so they did : read the
ticket again.

England is proverbially called " the
ringing island," which is not the worst
thing to say of it ; and our forefathers
were great eaters and hard drinkers, and
that is not the worst thing to say of them ;
but of our country we can also tell better
things, and keep our bells to cheer our
stories; and from our countrymen we
can select names among the living and
the dead that would dignify any spot of
earth. Let us then be proud of our
ancient virtue, and keep it alive, and
add to it. If each will do what he can
to take care that the world is not the
worse for his existence, posterity will
relate that their ancestors did well in it.

NATURALISTS CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature ... 46 60.

3prtl 12.

SIGN OF RAIN.

One of the " Hundred Mery Tales"
teacheth that, ere travellers depart their
homes, they should know natural signs;
insomuch that they provide right array,
or make sure that they be safely housed
against tempest. Our Shakspeare read
the said book of tales, which is there-
fore called Shakspeare's Jest Book;"
and certain it is, that though he were not
skilled in learning of the schoolmen, by
reason that he did not know their lan-
guages, yet was he well skilled in English,
and a right wise observer of things ;
wherein, if we be like diligent, we, also,
may attain unto his knowledge. Where-
fore, learn to take heed against rain, by the
tale ensuing.

Of the herdsman that said, " Ride apace,
ye shall have rain."

A certain scholar of Oxford, which had

studied the judicials of astronomy, upon
a time as he was riding by the way, there
came by a herdman, and he asked this
herdman how far it was to the next town ;
" Sir," quoth the herdman, " it is rather
past a mile and an half;" but, sir," quoth
he, " ye need to ride apace, for ye shall
have a shower of rain ere ye come
thither." " What," quoth the scholar,
" maketh ye say so? there is no token of
rain, for the clouds be both fair and clear."
" By my troth," quoth the herdsman,
" but ye shall find it so."

The scholar then rode forth, and it
chanced ere he had ridden half a mile fur-
ther, there fell a good shower of rain, that
the scholar was well washed, and wet to
the skin. The scholar then turned him back
and rode to the herdman, and desired him
to teach him that cunning. " Nay," quoth
the herdman, " I will not teach you my
cunning for naught." Then the schokr
proffered him eleven shillings to teach
him that cunning. The herdman, after
he had received his money, said thus :
" Sir, see you not yonder black ewe with
the white face?" " Yes," quoth the
scholar. "Surely," quoth the herdman,
" when she danceth and holdeth up her
tail, ye shall have a shower of rain within
half an hour afte..''

By this ye may see, that the cunning
of herd men and shepherds, as touching
alterations of weathers, is more sure than
the judicials of astronomy.

Upon this story it seemeth right to
conclude, that to stay at home, when
rain be foreboded by signs natural, is
altogether wise ; for though thy lodging
be poor, it were better to be in it, and so
keep thy health, than to travel in the wet
through a rich country and get rheums
thereby.

Home.

Cling to thy home ! If there the meanest shed
Yield thee a hearth and shelter for thine head,
And some poor plot, with vegetables stored,
Be all that pride allots thee for thy board,
Unsavoury bread, and herbs that scatter'd grow,
Wild on the river's brink or mountain's brow,
Yet e'en this cheerless mansion shall provide
More heart's repose than all the world beside.

Leonidatt of Tarentum

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature ... 46 76.

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. APHlL 13, 14 Mi

13. vast height * n a s pi ra l direction. Those
who desire to see it must pursue a swampy
route, through watery fens, quagmires,

About this time, according to Dr. bogs, and marshes. The heron, ardea

Forster, whose observations on the migra- major, has now a nest, and is seen sailing

tions and habits of birds, are familiar to about slowly in the air in search of its

most persons acquainted with the natural fishy prey, travelling from one fish pond

history of our island, the bittern, ardea to another, over a large tract of country.

stellata, begins to make a booming noise It is a bird of slow and heavy flight,

in marshy places at eventide. The deep though it floats on large and expansive

and peculiar hollow tone of this bird in wings.

the breeding season, can hardly be mis-

taken for that of any other: it differs NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.

essentially from the note of the same bird Mean Temperature . . 46. 57.

when on the wing.

The bittern booms along the sounding |lH*tl 14.

Mixt with the cries of heron and mallard SPRING.

harsh. Genial weather at the commencement

The bittern sits all day hid among the of the year, dresses the meadows with

reeds and rushes with its head erect ; at the common and beautiful flowers thai

night it rises on the wing, and soars to a delight childhood.

The Cowslip.

Cowslip, of all beloved, of all admired !
Thee let me sing, the homely shepherd's pride ;
Fit emblem of the maid I love, a form
Gladdening the sight of man; a sweet perfume,
Sending its balmy fragrance to the soul
Daughter of Spring and messenger of May,
Which shall I first declare, which most extol,
Thy sovereign beauties, or thy sovereign use ?
With thee the rural dame a draught prepares,
A nectarous draught, more luscious to my taste
Than all thy boasted wine, besotted Bacchus !
Maidens with thee their auburn tresses braid ;
Or, with the daisy and the primrose pale,
Thy flowers entwining, weave a chaplet fair,
To grace that pole round which the village train
Lead on their dance to greet the jocund May ;
Jocund I'll call it, for it lends a smile
To thee, who never smil'st but once a year.
I name thee not, thou poor unpitied wretch 1
Of all despised, save him whose liberal heart
Taught him to feel your wrongs, and plead your cause,
Departed Hanway ! Peace be to his soul !
Great is that man, who quits the path of fame,
Who, wealth forsaking, stoops his towering mind
From learning's heights, and stretches out his arm
To raise from dust the meanest of his kind.
Now that the muse to thee her debt has paid,
Friend of the poor and guardian of the wronged,
Back let her pleased return, to view those sports,
Whose rude simplicity has charms for me
Beyond the ball or midnight masquerade.
Oft on that merry morn I've joined their throng,
A glad spectator; oft their uncouth dance
Eyed most attentive ; when, with tawdry show,
Illsorted ribbons decked each maiden's cap,
And cowslip garlands every rustic hat.

513

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. APRIL 15.

514

NATURALISTS CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature. . . 47 44.

15.

SEASONABLE.

To the Reader.

On Saturday, the 15th of April, 1B26,
'No. 68, and Part XVII., of the Every-
Day Book, forming No. 16, and Part IV.
of the second volume, were published by
Messrs. HUNT and CLARKE, of Tavistock-
street, Covent-garden. As the removal
of the office from Ludgate-hill may be an
event of as much interest to the friends
of the work as any other belonging to the
day it is recorded here with the fol-
lowing explanation which was printed on
the wrapper of the part :

" This step relieves me from cares
and anxieties which so embarassed
my progress, in conducting and wri-
ting the work, as to become over-
whelming ; and Messrs. Hunt and
Clarke will publish it much earlier
than hitherto.

"To subscribers the present ar-
rangement will be every way benefi-
cial.

" They will have the Every-Day
Book punctually at a proper hour ;
and, as I shall be enabled to give it
the time and attention essential to a
thorough fulfilment of its plan, my ex-
ertions will, henceforth,be incessantly
directed to that end. I, therefore,
respectfully and earnestly solicit the
friends of the work to aid me by
their contributions. At the present
moment they will be most acceptable.
" CORRESPONDENTS will, from this
day, be pleased to address letters and
parcels to me, at Messrs. Hunt and
Clarke's, Tavistock-street, Covent-
garden. W. HONE."

fjjj^ Six INDEXES, with a Preface,
Title-page, and Frontispiece to the first
volume, will be ready for delivery before
the appearance of the next sheet ; and I
hope the labour by which I have endea-
voured to facilitate reference to every
general and particular subject, may be re-
ceived as somewhat of atonement, for the
delay in these essentials. To guard
against a similar accident, I have already
commenced the index to the second
volume. W. HONE.

April 15, 1826.

VOL. II. 69.

%* VOLUME I. contains 863 octavo
pages, or 1736 columns, illustrate'd
by One Hundred and Seventy engrav-
ings : Price 14*. in boards.

PROGRESS OF THE SEASON.

Song Birds.

If we happen to be wandering forth on
a warm still evening during the last week
in this month, and passing near a road-
side orchard, or skirting a little copse in
returning from our twilight ramble, or
sitting listlessly on a lawn near some thick
plantation, waiting for bed time, we may
chance to be startled from our meditations
(of whatever kind they may be) by a
sound issuing from among the distant
leaves, that scares away the silence in a
moment, and seems to put to flight even
the darkness itself; stirring the spirit,
and quickening the blood, as no other
mere sound can, unless it be that of a
trumpet calling to battle. That is the
nightingale's voice. The cold spells of
winter, that had kept him so long tongue-
tied, and frozen the deep fountains of his
heart, yield before the mild breath of
spring, and he is voluble once more. It is
as if the flood of song had been swelling
within his breast ever since it last ceased
to flow ; and was now gushing forth uncon-
troullably, and as if he had no will to con-
troul it : for when it does stop for a space,
it is suddenly, as if for want of breath.
In our climate the nightingale seldom
sings above six weeks ; beginning usually
the last week in April. I mention this
because many, who would be delighted
to hear him, do not think of going to
listen for his song till after it has ceased.
1 believe it is never to be heard after the
young are hatched. Now, too, the pretty,
pert-looking blackcap first appears, and
pours forth his tender and touching love-
song, scarcely inferior, in a certain plain-
tive inwardness, to the autumn song of
the robin. The mysterious little grass-
hopper lark also runs whispering within
the nedgerows ; the redstart pipes pret-
tily upon the apple trees; the golden-
crowned wren chirps in the kitchen-
garden, as she watches for the new sown
seeds; and lastly, the thrush, who has
hitherto given out but a desultory note at
intervals, to let us know that he was not
away, now haunts the same tree, and fre-
quently the same branch cf it, day afte
day, and sings an "English Melody" thnt
even Mr. Moore himself could not write
appropriate words to.

515

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK. APRIL 16.

516

NATURALISTS CALENDAR,

Mean Temperature ... 48 * 16.

april 16.

C. L., whose papers under these initials
on " Captain Starkey,"* " The Ass, No.
2,f" and " Squirrels,"]: besides other
communications, are in the first volume,
drops the following pleasant article " in
an hour of need."

THE MONTHS.

For the Every-Day Book.
Rummaging over the contents of an
old stall at a half book, half old iron shop,
in an alley leading from Wardour-street
to Soho-square yesterday, I lit upon a
ragged duodecimo, which had been the
strange delight of my infancy, and which
I had lost sight of for more than forty
years : the " QUEEN-LIKE CLOSET, or
RICH CABINET :" written by Hannah
Woolly, and printed for R. C. & T. S.
1681 ; being an abstract of receipts in
cookery, confectionary, cosmetics, needle-
work, morality, and all such branches of
what were then considered as female
accomplishments. The price demanded
was sixpence, which the owner (a little
squab duodecimo of a character himself)
enforced with the assurance that his
" own mother should not have it for a
farthing less." On my demurring at this
extraordinary assertion, the dirty little
vendor reinforced his assertion with a
sort of oath, which seemed more than the
occasion demanded : " and now (said
he) I have put my soul to it." Pressed
by so solemn an asseveration, I could no
longer resist a demand which seemed to
set me, however unworthy, upon a level
with his dearest relations ; and depositing
a tester, I bore away the tattered prize in
triumph. I remembered a gorgeous de-
scription of the twelve months of the
year, which I thought would be a fine
substitute for those poetical descriptions
of them which your Every-Day Book had
nearly exhausted out of Spenser, This
will be a treat, thought I, for friend
HONE. To memory they seemed no less
fantastic and splendid than the other.
But, what are the mistakes of childhood !
on reviewing them, they turned out to
be only a set of common-place receipts for
working the seasons, months, heathen
gods and goddesses, &c. in samplars !
Yet as an instance of the homely oc-

*Vol. i 965. 4 Ibid. 1358. J Ibid. 1336.

cupations of our great- grandmothers,
they may be amusing to some readers :
" I have seen/' says the notable Hannah
Woolly, " such Ridiculous things done in
work, as it is an abomination to any
Artist to behold. As for example : You
may find in some Pieces, Abraham and
Sarah, and many other Persons of Old
time, Cloathed, as they go now a-daies,
and truly sometimes worse ; for they
most resemble the Pictures on Ballads.
Let all Ingenious Women have regard,
that when they work any Image, to re-
present it aright. First, let it be Drawn
well, and then observe the Directions
which are given by Knowing Men. I do
assure you, I never durst work any
Scripture-Story without informing my
self from the Ground of it : nor any other
Story, or single Person, without inform-
ing my self both of the Visage and
Habit ; As followeth.

" If you work Jupiter, the Imperial
feigned God, He must have long Black-
Curled-hair, a Purple Garment trimmed
with Gold, and sitting upon a Golden
Throne, with bright yellow Clouds about
him."

The Twelve Months of the Year.
March.

Is drawn in Tawny, with a fierce as-
pect, a Helmet upon his head, and lean-
ing on ^ Spade, and a Basket of Garden
Seeds in his Left hand, and in his Right
hand the Sign of Aries : and Winged.

April.

A Young Man in Green, with a Gar-
land of Mirtle, and Hawthorn-buds;
Winged; in one hand Primroses and
Violets, in the other the Sign Taurus.

May.

With a Sweet and lovely Countenance,
clad in a Robe of White and Green, em-
broidered with several Flowres, upon his
Head a garland of all manner of Roses ;
on the one hand a Nightingale, in the
other a Lute. His sign must be Gemini.

June.

In a Mantle of dark Grass green, upon
his Head a garland of Bents, Kings-Cups,
and Maiden-hair ; in his Left hand un
Angle, with a box of Cantharides, in his
Right the Sign Cancer, and upon his
arms a Basket of seasonable Fruits.

July.

In a Jacket of light Yellow, eating
Cherries ; with his Face and Bosom Sun-

517

THE E VERY-DAY BOOK. APRIL 16.

518

burnt ; on his Head a wreath of Centaury
and wild Tyrae ; a Scythe on his shoulder,
and a bottle at his girdle : carrying the
Sign Leo.

August.

A Young Man of fierce and Cholerick
aspect, in a Flame-coloured Garment;
upon his Head a garland of Wheat and
Rye, upon his Arm a Basket of all man-
ner of ripe Fruits, at his Belt a Sickle.
His Sign Virgo.

September.

A merry and chereful Countenance,
in a Purple Robe, upon his Head a
Wreath oi red and white Grapes, in his
Left hand a handful of Oats, withall
carrying a Horn of Plenty, full of all
manner of ripe Fruits, in his Right hand
the Sign Libra.

October,

In a Garment of Yellow and Carna-
tion, upon his head a garland of Oak-
leaves with Akorns, in his Right hand
the Sign Scorpio, in his Left hand a
Basket of Medlars, Services, and Ches-
nuts; and any other Fruits then in
Season.

November.

In a Garment of Changeable Green
and Black upon his Head, a garland of
Olives with the Fruit in his Left hand,
Bunches of Parsnips and Turnips in his
Right. His Sign Sagittarius.

December.

A horrid and fearful aspect, clad in
Irish-Rags, or course Freez girt unto him,
upon his Head three or four Night-Caps,
and over them a Turkish Turbant ; his
Nose red, his Mouth and Beard clog'd
with Isicles, at his back a bundle of
Holly, Ivy or Misletoe, holding in fur'd
Mittens the Sign of Capricornus.

January,

Clad all in White, as the Earth looks
with the Snow, blowing his nails ; in his
Left Arm a Bilet, the Sign Aquarius
standing by his side.

February.

Cloathed in a dark Skie-colour, carry-
ing in his Right hand the Sign Pisces.

The following receipt, " To dress up a
Chimney very fine f or the Summer
time, as I have done many, and they
have been liked very well." may not
be unprofitable to the housewives of
this century.

" First, take a pack-thred and fasten ft
even to the inner part of the Chimney, sa
high as that you can see no higher as you
walk up and down the House ; you must
drive in several Nails to hold up all your
work; then get good store of old green
Moss from Trees, and melt an equal
proportion of Bees-wax and Rosin to-
gether and while it is hot, dip the wrong
ends of the Moss in it, and presently clap
it upon your pack-thred, and press it
down hard with your hand ; you must
make hast, else it will cool before you
can fasten it, and then it will fall down ;
do so all round where the pack-thred
goes, and the next row you must joyn
to that, so that it may seem all in one ;
thus do till you have finished it down to
the bottom : then take some other kind
of Moss, of a whitish-colour and stiff,
and of several sorts or kinds, and place
that upon the other, here and there
carelessly, and in some places put a good
deal, and some a little ; then any kind of
fine Snail-shels, in which the Snails are
dead, and little Toad .stools, which are
very old, and look like Velvet, or any
other thing that was old and pretty ; place
it here and Jhere as your fancy serves,
and fasten all with Wax and Rosin.
Then for the Hearth of your Chimney,
you may lay some Orpan-Sprigs in order
all over, and it will grow as it lies ; and
according to the Season, get what flow-
ers you can, and stick in as if they grew,
and a few sprigs of Sweet-Bryer : the
Flowers you must renew every W eek ;
but the Moss will last all the Summer,
till it will be time to make a fire ; and
the Orpan will last near two Months. A
Chimney thus done doth grace a Room
exceedingly."

One phrase in the above should particu-
larly recommend it to such of your female
readers, as, in the nice language of the day,
have done growing some time : " little
toad stools, &c. and any thing that is old
and pretty" Was ever antiquity so
smoothed over? The culinary recipes
have nothing remarkable in them, besides
the costliness of them. Every thing (to
the meanest meats) is sopped in claret,
steeped in claret, basted with claret, as if
claret were as cheap as ditch water. I
remember Bacon recommends opening a
turf or two in your garden walks, and
pouring into each a bottle of claret, to
recreate the sense of smelling, being no
less grateful than beneficial. We hope the
chancellor of the exchequer will attend to

.119

THE E VERY-DAY BOOK. APRIL 16.

520

*his in his next reduction of French wines,
that we may once more water our gardens
with right Bourdeaux. The medical re-
cipes are as whimsical as they are cruel.
Our ancestors were not at all effeminate on
this head. Modern sentimentalists would
shrink at a cock plucked and bruised in a
mortar alive, to make a cullis ; or a live
mole baked in an oven (be sure it be alive)
to make a powder for consumption. But
the whimsicalest of all are the directions
to servants (for this little book is a com-
pendium of all duties,) the footman is
seriously admonished not to stand lolling
against his master's chair, while he waits
at table ; for " to lean on a chair, when
they wait, is a particular favoui shown to
any superior servant, as the chief gentle-
man, or the waiting woman when she
rises from the table." Also he must not
" hold the plates before his mouth to be
defiled with his breath, nor touch them
on the right [inner] side." Surely Swift
must have seen this little treatise.

C. L.

Hannah concludes with the following
address, by which the self-estimate which
she formed of her usefulness, may be cal-
culated :

" Ladies, I hope you're pleas'd and so shall I
If what I've writ, you may be gainers by ;
If not ; it is your fault, it is not mine,
Your benefit in this I do design.
Much labour and much time it hath me cost,
Therefore I beg, let none of it be lost.
The money you shall pay for this my book,
You'll not repent of, when in it you look.
No more at present to you I shall say,
But wish you all the happiness I may."

It may be more strongly objected, that
many of his allusions are reprehensible ;
and," as regards himself, though he pre-
tended to respect the ties of society, he
constantly violated private morals. As
an instance of his vanity, it is reported
that he said, " the works of eminent
geniuses are few ; they are only those of
Newton, Bacon, Leibnitz, Montesquieu,
and my own." He was ennobled by
patent ; and no less distinguished by
academical honours, than by his own
talents. He left a son, who, in 1 793, was
guillotined under Robespierre.*

BUBBLES.

Worthless speculations, in recent times,
have distressed and ruined thousands by
their explosion; and yet this has hap-
pened with the experience of former suf-
ferers before us as matter of history. In
the reign of James L, speculators preyed
on public credulity under the authority of
the great seal, till the government inter-
posed by annulling the patents. In the
reigns of Anne and George L, another
race of swindlers deluded the unthinking
with private lotteries and schemes of all
sorts. The consequences of the South Sea
bubble, at a later period, afflicted every
family in the nation, from the throne to
the labourer's hut. So recently as the year
1809, there were similar atlempts on a
less scale, with similar results. The pro-
jects of 1824-5, which lingered till 1826,
were raining companies.

CHRONOLOGY.

On the 16th of April, 1788, died, at
the age of eighty-one, the far-famed count
de Buffon, a man of uncommon genius and
surprising eloquence, and often styled the
" French Pliny," because, like that philo-
sopher, he studied natural history. Buffon
was, perhaps, the most astonishing inter-
preter of nature that ever existed.* His
descriptions are luminous and accurate,
and every where display a spirit of philo-
sophical observation ; but the grand de-
fect of his work is want of method, and
he rejects the received principles of clas-
sification, and throws his subjects into
groups from general points of resemblance.

In the reign of George L, a Mr. Fal-
lowfield issued " proposals for making
iron," wherein he introduces some reflec-
tions on the miscarriages of Mr. Wood's
project of " making iron with pulverised
ore." Fallowfield had obtained a patent
for making iron with peat, but delayed
some time his putting it in practice, be-
cause of the mighty bustle made by Mr.
Wood and his party. The proceedings
of the latter projector furnish a fact under
the present day.

It appears from the following state-
ment, that Mr. Wood persisted till his
scheme was blown into air by his own
experiments.

April 16, 173.1. " The proprietors assert
that the iron so proposed to be made, and
which they actually did make at Chelsea,
on Monday, the 1 6th instant, is not brittle,

Btitler's Chronological Exercues.

General Biog. Diet.

521

THE EVERY-DAY BOOK APRlL 17,18.

i>'22

but tough, and fit for all uses, and is to be
manufactured with as little waste of
metal, labour, and expense, as any other
iron ; and that it may and can be made
for less than 10f. a ton, which they will
make apparent to any curious inquirer/'
Whether this " call" upon the " curious
inquirer" was designed to introduce
" another call" upon the shareholders is
not certain, but the call was answered by
those to whom it was ostensibly address-
ed ; for there is a notice of " Mr. Wood's
operators failing in their last trial at Chel-
sea, the llth instant (May;) their iron
breaking to pieces when it came under
the great hammer."* They excused it by
saying the inspectors had purposely poi-
soned the iron ! Had the assertion been
true, Wood's project might have survived
the injury ; but it died of the poison on
the 3d of May, 1731, notwithstanding the
affirmations of the proprietors, that " they
actually did make iron at Chelsea, on
Monday the 16th of April."

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature ... 47 95.

Sprtl 17.

CHRONOLOGY.

Sir William Davenant, the reviver of
the drama after the restoration of Charles
II., 'and patentee of the theatre in Lin-
coln's-inn-fields, died on the 17th of April,
1668. He was the son of an innkeeper
at Oxford, where he was born in 1605 ;
and after studying at Lincoln-college,
became a page to Greville, lord Brooke,
a literary nobleman, who encouraged his
attainments. He cultivated acquaintance
with the poetic muse, and the eminent
wits of his time. His imagination, de-
praved by sensuality, was unequal to ex-
tensive flights in pure regions. He wrote
chiefly to the taste of the court, prepared
masques for its entertainment, and, on
the death of Ben Jonson, had the honour
of the laureateship He served in the army
of Charles I. against the parliament ; was
made lieutenant-general of the ordnance,
knighted by the king at the siege of Glou-
cester, and, on the decline of the royal
cause, retired to France, where he became
a Roman catholic. In attempting to
conduct a French colony to Virginia, he
was captured by a parliament cruiser, and

* Gentleman's Magazine,

imprisoned in Cowes Castle, where he
employed himself on " Gondibert," a
heroic poem, which he never finished.
On this occasion his life was saved by
Milton ; and, when public affairs were
reversed, Davenant repaid the service by
protecting Milton.*

Davenant's face was deformed by the
consequences of vicious indulgence. Tne
deficiency of feature exemplified in his
portrait, is referred to by a note on a
celebrated line in lord Byron's " Curse t of
Minerva/'

Davenant and Shakspeare.
Pope is said to have placed Davenant,
as a poet, above Donne ;f but, notwith-
standing the authority, it is questionable
whether Pope's judgment could have so
erred. He is further said to have ob-
served, that Davenant " seemed fond of
having it taken for truth," that he was
" more than a poetical child of Shak-
speare ;" that he was Shakspeare's godson ;
and that Shakspeare in his frequent jour-
nies between London and his native
place, Stratford-upon-Avon, used to lie at
Davenant's, the Crown, in Oxford. He
was very well acquainted with Mrs. Da-
venant ; and her son^afterwards sir Wil-
liam, was supposed to be more nearly
related to him than as a godson only.
One day when Shakspeare had just ar-
rived, and the boy sent for from school to
him, a head of one of the colleges (who
was pretty well acquainted with the affairs
of the family) met the child running
home, and asked him, whither he was
going in so much haste? The boy said,
" To my godfather, Shakspeare." " Fie,
child," says the old gentleman, " why are
you so superfluous ? have you not learned
yet that you should not use the name of
God in vain ?* The imputation is very
doubtful.

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature ... 47 00.

aprtl 18.

CHRONOLOGY.

On this day, in the year 17 , there
was a solemn mock procession, according
to the fashion of the times, in ridicule of
freemasonry, by an assemblage of hu-

* General Biog. Diet.
t Spence.

523

THE EVERYDAY BOOK. APRIL 13.

524

mourists and rabble, which strongly cha-
racterises the manners of the period.
Without further preface, a large broad-
side publication, published at the time,
is introduced to the reader's attention,
as an article of great rarity and singular
curiosity.

The year wherein this procession took
place, is not ascertainable from the broad-
side ; but, from the mode of printing
and other appearances, it seems to have
been some years before that which is re-
presented in a large two-sheet " Geome-
trical View of the Grand Procession of
Scald Miserable Masons, designed as
they were drawn up over against Somer-

set-house, in the Strand on the 27th of
April, 1742. Invented, and engraved,
by A. Benoist."

It should be further observed, that the
editor of the Every-Day Book is not a
mason ; but he disclaims any intention
to discredit an order which appears to
him to be founded on principles of good-
will and kind affection. The broadside
is simply introduced on account of its
scarcity, and to exemplify the rudeness
of former manners. It is headed by a
spirited engraving on wood, of which a
reduced copy is placed below, with the
title that precedes the original print sub-
joined.

Solemn anfc ^tatelg flrocwBion fc

OF THE SCALD MISERABLE MASONS,
As It was martiall'd, on Thursday, the \%th of this Instant, April.

The engraving is succeeded by a serio-
comic Address, commencing thus :
THE REMONSTRANCE of the Right Wor-
shipful the GRAND MASTER, &c. of
the SCALD MISERABLE MASONS.
WHEREAS by our Manifesto some

time past, dated from our Lodge ir.
Brick-street, WE did, in the most expli-
cite manner, A-indicate the ancient lights
and privileges of this society, and by in-
contestable arguments evince our supe-
rior dignity and seniority to all othei

525

THE E VERY-DAY BOOK. APRIL

institutions, whether Grand-Volgi, Grego-
rians, Hurlothrurabians, Ubiquarians,
Hiccubites, Lumber-Troopers, or Free-
Masons ; yet, nevertheless, a few persons
under the last denomination, still arro-
gate to themselves the 'usurped titles of
Most Ancient and Honourable, in open
violations of truth and justice ; still en-
deavour to impose their false mysteries
(for a premium) on the credulous and
unwary, under pretence of being part of
our brotherhood; and still are deter-
min'd with drums, trumpets, gilt chariots,
and other unconstitutional finery, to cast
a reflection on the primitive simplicity
and decent economy of our ancient and
annual peregrination : WE therefore think
proper, in justification of Ourselves, pub-
licly to disclaim all relation or alliance
whatsoever, with the said society of Free-
Masons, as the same must manifestly tend
to the sacrifice of our dignity, the im-
peachment of our understanding, and the
disgrace of our solemn mysteries : AND
FURTHER, to convince the public of the
candour and openness of our proceedings,
WE here present them with a key to our
procession ; and that the rather, as it
consists of many things emblematical,
mystical, hieroglyphical, comical, satirical,
political, &c.

AND WHEREAS many, persuaded
by the purity of our constitution, the nice
morality of our brethren, and peculiar
decency of our rites and ceremonies,
have lately forsook the gross errors and
follies of the Free-Masonry, are now be-
come true Scald Miserables : It cannot
but afford a most pleasing satisfaction to
all who have any regard to truth and
decency, to see our procession increased
with such a number of proselytes ; and
behold those whose vanity, but the last
year, exalted them into a borrowed equi-
page, now condescend to become the
humble cargo of a sand-cart.

[Then follows the following :]

A KEY or EXPLANATION of the Solemn
and Stately Procession of the SCALD
MISERABLE MASONS.

Two Tylers, or Guarders,

In yellow Cockades and Liveries, being
the Colour ordained for the Sword
Bearer of State. They, as youngest en-
ter'd 'Prentices, are to guard the Lodge,
with a drawn Sword, from all Cowens
and Evej-droDDers, that is Listeners,

lest they should discover the incompre-
hensible Mysteries of Masonry.

A Grand Chorus of Instruments,
To wit. Four Sackbutts, or Cow's
Horns ; six Hottentot Hautboys ; four
tinkling Cymbals, or Tea Canisters,
with broken Glass in them ; four Shovels
and Brushes ; two Double Bass Dripping-
pans ; a Tenor Frying-pan ; a Salt-box
in Delasol ; and a Pair of Tubs.

Ragged entered 'Prentices,

Properly cloathed, giving the above
Token, and the Word, which is Jachin.

The Funeral of Hyram,

Six stately unfledg'd Horses with Funeral
Habilaments and Caparisons, carrying
Escutcheons of the arms of.