D.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 58·45.

[336] Annual Register.

[337] Ringing the penance-bell was an expression which frequently occurred in his writings. As--

We toll’d the devil’s penance-bell, And warn’d you to keep from hell, &c.

The penance-bell occurs three or four times in each of his several poems.

~September 8.~

NATIVITY B. V. M.

The legend of this festival retained in the church of England calendar, is related in vol. i. col. 1274.

CHRONOLOGY.

_Fatal Puppet Play._

_Extract from the Parish Register of Burwell, in Cambridgeshire_, “1727, September 8. N. B. About nine o’clock in the evening, a most dismal fire broke out in a barn in which a great number of persons were met together to see a puppet-show. In the barn there were a great many loads of new light straw; the barn was thatched with straw, which was very dry, and the inner roof of the barn was covered with old dry cobwebs; so that the fire, like lightning, flew round the barn in an instant, and there was but one small door belonging to the barn, which was close nailed up, and could not be easily broke open; and when it was opened, the passage was so narrow, and every body so impatient to escape, that the door was presently blocked up, and most of those that did escape, which were but very few, were forced to crawl over the heads and bodies of those that lay on a heap at the door, and the rest, in number seventy-six, perished instantly, and two more died of their wounds within two days. The fire was occasioned by the negligence of a servant, who set a candle and lantern to, or near, the heap of straw that was in the barn. The servant’s name was Richard Whitaker, of the parish of Hadstock, in Essex, near Linton, in Cambridgeshire, who was tried for the fact at the assizes held at Cambridge, March 27, 1728, but he was acquitted.”[338]

STAINES CHURCH, MIDDLESEX.

_Exhumation._

In a small apartment under the staircase leading to the gallery at the west end of the church, is presented the singular and undesirable spectacle of two unburied coffins, containing human bodies. The coffins are covered with crimson velvet and are otherwise richly embellished. They are placed beside each other on trestles, and bear respectively the following inscriptions:--

“JESSIE ASPASIA.

The most excellent and truly beloved wife of F. W. Campbell, Esq. of Barbreck, N. B. and of Woodlands in Surrey. Died in her 28th year,

July 11th, 1812.”

“HENRY E. A. CAULFIELD, ESQ. Died Sept. 3, 1808. Aged 29 years.”

As it was necessarily supposed that coffins thus open to inspection would excite much curiosity, a card is preserved at the sexton’s house, which states, in addition to the intelligence conveyed by the above inscriptions, that the deceased lady was daughter of W. T. Caulfield, Esq. of Rahanduff in Ireland, by Jessie, daughter of James, third lord Ruthven; and that she bore, with tranquil and exemplary patience, a fatal disorder produced by grief on the death of her brother, who removed from a former place of sepulture, now lies beside her in unburied solemnity.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 57·87.

[338] Lysons.

~September 9.~

THE SEASON.

At this period of the year the fashionable people of unfashionable times were accustomed to close their sojournments on the coasts, and commence their inland retreats before they “came to town for _good_.” In this respect manners are altered. The salubrity of the ocean-breeze is now courted, and many families, in defiance of gales and storms, spend the greater part of the winter at the southern watering places. The increase of this remarkable deviation deserves to be noticed, as a growing accommodation to the purposes of life.

* * * * *

A literary gentleman on his arrival from viewing the world of waters, obliges the editor with some original flowings from his pen, so fresh and beautiful, that they are submitted immediately to the reader’s enjoyment.

SONNET.

_Written in a Cottage by the Sea-side. Hastings._

Ye, who would flee from the world’s vanities From cities’ riot, and mankind’s annoy, Seek this lone cot, and here forget your sighs, For health and rest are here--guests but too coy. If the vast ocean, with its boundless space, Its power omnipotent, and eternal voice, Wean not thy thoughts from wearying folly’s choice, And mortal trifling, unto virtue’s grace, To high intent, pure purpose, and sweet peace, Leaving of former bitter pangs no trace;-- If each unworthy wish it does not drown, And free thee from ennui’s unnerving thrall, Then art thou dead to nature’s warning call, And fit but for the maddening haunts of town.

_August, 1826._

W. T. M.

SONNET STANZAS.

_On the Sea._

I never gaze upon the mighty sea, And hear its many voices, but there steals A host of stirring fancies, vividly Over my mind; and memory reveals A thousand wild and wondrous deeds to me; Of venturous seamen, on their daring keels; And blood-stain’d pirates, sailing fearlessly; And lawless smugglers, which each cave conceals; In his canoe, the savage, roving free; And all I’ve read of rare and strange, that be On every shore, o’er which its far wave peals: With luxuries, in which Imagination reels, Of bread fruit, palm, banana, cocoa tree, And thoughts of high emprize, and boundless liberty!

I ne’er upon the ocean gaze, but I Think of its fearless sons, whose sails, unfurl’d, So oft have led to Art’s best victory. Columbus upon unknown waters hurl’d, Pursuing his sole purpose, firm and high, The great discovery of another world; And daring Cook, whose memory’s bepearled With pity’s tears, from many a wild maid’s eye; Their Heiva dance, in fancy I espy, While still the dark chief’s lip in anger curled: O’er shipwreck’d Crusoe’s lonely fate I sigh, His self-form’d bark on whelming billows whirled; And oft, in thought, I hear the Tritons cry, And see the mermaid train light gliding by.

I never gaze upon the boundless deep, But still I think upon the glorious brave, Nelson and Blake, who conquered but to save; I hear their thunders o’er the billows sweep, And think of those who perish’d on the wave, That Britain might a glorious harvest reap! High hearts and generous, Vain did foemen Peace to their souls, and sweetly may they sleep, Entomb’d within the ocean’s lonely cave! Still many a lovely eye for them shall weep, Tears, far more precious than the pearls, that keep Their casket there, or all the sea e’er gave, To the bold diver’s grasp, whose fearless leap With wealth enriches, or in death must sleep!

W. T. M.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 58·55.

~September 10.~

THE RAINBOW.

Behold yon bright, ethereal bow, With evanescent beauties glow; The spacious arch streams through the sky, Decked with each tint of nature’s dye: Refracted sunbeams, through the shower, A humid radiance from it pour; Whilst colour into colour fades, With blended lights and softening shades.

LUNAR RAINBOW.

On the 10th of September, 1802, a very beautiful lunar rainbow was observed at Matlock, in Derbyshire, between the hours of eight and nine in the evening: its effect was singularly pleasing. The colours of these phenomena are sometimes very well defined; but they have a more tranquil tone than those which originate in the solar beams. They are not unfrequent in the vicinity of Matlock, being mentioned by some writers among the natural curiosities of that delightful spot.

On Saturday evening, September 28, 1822, an extremely interesting iris of this description was distinctly observed by many persons in the neighbourhood of Boston, in Lincolnshire. It made its appearance nearly north, about half-past eight in the evening. This bow of the heavens was every way complete, the curvature entire, though its span was extensive, and the altitude of its apex seemed to be about 20 degrees. The darkness occasioned by some clouds pregnant with rain, in the back ground of this white arch of beauty, formed a striking contrast, while several stars in the constellation of Ursa Major, (the great bear,) which were for a time conspicuous, imparted additional grandeur to the scene.[339]

* * * * *

An observer of a nocturnal rainbow on the 17th of August 1788, relates its appearance particularly. “On Sunday evening, after two days, on both of which, particularly the former, there had been a great deal of rain, together with lightning and thunder, just as the clocks were striking nine, three and twenty hours after full moon, looking through my window, I was struck with the appearance of something in the sky which seemed like a rainbow. Having never seen a rainbow by night, I thought it a very extraordinary phenomenon, and hastened to a place where there were no buildings to obstruct my view of the hemisphere. The moon was truly ‘walking in brightness,’ brilliant as she could be, not a cloud was to be seen near her; and over-against her, toward the northwest, or perhaps rather more to the north, was a rainbow, a vast arch, perfect in all its parts, not interrupted or broken as rainbows frequently are, but unremittedly visible from one horizon to the other. In order to give some idea of its extent, it is necessary to say, that, as I stood toward the western extremity of the parish of Stoke Newington, it seemed to take its rise from the west of Hampstead, and to end, perhaps, in the river Lea, the eastern boundary of Tottenham; its colour was white, cloudy, or greyish, but a part of its western leg seemed to exhibit tints of a faint, sickly green. I continued viewing it for some time, till it began to rain; and at length the rain increasing, and the sky growing more hazy, I returned home about a quarter or twenty minutes past nine, and in ten minutes came out again, but by that time all was over, the moon was darkened by clouds, and the rainbow of course vanished.”[340]

[Illustration: ~Pump at Hammersmith.~]

A “walking” man should not refrain To take a saunter up Webb’s-lane, Tow’rds Shepherd’s bush, and see a rude Old lumb’ring pump. It’s made of wood, And pours its water in a font So beautiful--that if he do’n’t Admire how such a combination Was form’d, in such a situation, He has no power of causation, Or taste, or feeling; but must live Painless, and pleasureless; and give Himself to doing what he can; And die a sort of sort-of-man.

Some persons walk the strait road from Dan to Beersheba, and finding it firm beneath the foot, have no regard to any thing else, and are satisfied when they get to their journey’s end. I do not advise these good kind of people to go to Hammersmith; but, here and there, an out-of-the-way man will be glad to bend his course thitherward, in search of the object represented. It is fair to say I have not seen it myself: it turned up the other day in an artist’s sketch-book. He had taken it as an object, could tell no more than that he liked it, and, as I seemed struck by its appearance, but could not then go to look at it and make inquiries, he volunteered his services, and wrote me as follows:--“I went to Hammersmith, and was some time before I could find the place again; however, I at length discovered it in Webb’s-lane, opposite the Thatched-house, (Mr. Gowland is the landlord.) There I took some refreshment, and gained what information I could, which was but little. The stone _font_ with other things (old carved ornaments, &c., which were used in fitting up the upper rooms of some cottages that the pump belongs to) were purchased at a sale; and this was all I could obtain at the Thatched-house. Coming from thence I learned from a cobler at work that there was originally a _leaden_ pump, but that it was doubled up, and rolled away, by some thieves, and they attempted to take the font, but found it too heavy. The Crispin could not inform me where the sale was, but he told me where his landlady lived and her name, which was Mrs. Springthorp, of Hammersmith, any one could tell me her house: so, being very tired, I took coach, and rode to town without inquiry. Please to send me word whether I shall do it for next week.”

To the latter inquiry my answer of course was “yes,” but I am as dark as my informant, as to the origin of what he calls the “font” which forms the sink of this pump. It does not appear to me to be a font, but a vase. I could have wished he had popped the question to “Mrs. Springthorp” respecting the place from whence it came, and concerning the “other things, old carved ornaments, &c.” I entreat some kind reader to diligently seek out and obligingly acquaint me with full particulars of these matters. In the mean time I console myself with having presented a picturesque object, and with the hope of being enabled to account for the agreeable union.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 58·07.

[339] Butler’s Chronological Exercises.

[340] Gentleman’s Magazine.

~September 11.~

WOODLAND WALKS.

These are delightful at any time. At about this season of the year, 1817, the following poetical description appeared in a newspaper which no longer exists:--

LINES

BY MR. J. H. REYNOLDS.

Whence is the secret charm of this lone wood, Which in the light of evening sweetly sleeps!-- I tread with lingering feet the quiet steeps, Where thwarted oaks o’er their own old age brood;-- And where the gentler trees, in summer weather, Spring up all greenly in their youth together; And the grass is dwelling in a silent mood, And the fir-like fern its under forest keeps In a strange stillness. My winged spirit sweeps Not as it hath been wont,--but stays with me Like some domestic thing that loves its home; It lies a-dreaming o’er the imagery Of other scenes,--which from afar do come, Matching them with this indolent solitude. Here,--I am walking in the days gone by,-- And under trees which I have known before. My heart with feelings old is running o’er-- And I am happy as the morning sky. The present seems a mockery of the past-- And all my thoughts flow by me, like a stream, That hath no home, that sings beneath the beam Of the summer sun,--and wanders through sweet meads,-- In which the joyous wildflower meekly feeds,-- And strays,--and wastes away in woods at last. My thoughts o’er many things fleet silently,-- But to this older forest creep, and cling fast. Imagination, ever wild and free, With heart as open as the naked sea, Can consecrate whate’er it looks upon:-- And memory, that maiden never lone, Lights all the dream of life. While I can see This blue deep sky,--that sun so proudly setting In the haughty west,--this spring patiently wetting The shadowy dell,--these trees so tall and fair, That have no visiters but the birds and air:-- And hear those leaves a gentle whispering keep, Light as young joy, and beautiful as sleep,-- The melting of sweet waters in the dells,-- The music of the loose flocks’ lulling bells, Which sinks into the heart like spirit’s spells. While these all softly o’er my senses sweep,-- I need not doubt that I shall ever find Things, that will feed the cravings of my mind. My happiest hours were past with those I love On steeps;--in dells, with shadowy trees above; And therefore it may be my soul ne’er sleeps, When I am in a pastoral solitude:-- And such may be the charm of this lone wood, That in the light of evening sweetly sleeps.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 58·40.

~September 12.~

STORM AT ENGHIEN.

On the 12th of September, 1817, the gentlemen forming a deputation of the “Caledonian Horticultural Society,” while inspecting Mr. Parmentier’s gardens at Enghien, were suddenly overtaken by a violent thunder storm, and compelled to flee for shelter to Mr. Parmentier’s house. “As this thunder storm was of a character different from what we are accustomed to in Scotland, and much more striking than what we had witnessed at Brussels, a short notice of it may be excused.--A dense, black cloud was seen advancing from the east; and as this cloud developed itself and increased in magnitude, one-half of the horizon became shrouded in darkness, enlivened only by occasional flashes of forked lightning, while the other half of the horizon remained clear, with the sun shining bright. As the black cloud approached, the sun’s rays tinged it of a dull copper colour, and the reflected light caused all the streets and houses to assume the same lurid and metallic hue. This had a very uncommon and impressive effect. Before we reached the mayor’s house, scarce a passenger was to be seen in the streets; but we remarked women at the doors, kneeling, and turning their rosaries as they invoked their saints. Meantime ‘thick and strong the sulphurous flame descended;’ the flashes and peals began to follow each other in almost instantaneous succession, and the tout-ensemble became awfully sublime. A sort of whirlwind, which even raised the small gravel from the streets, and dashed it against the windows, preceded the rain, which fell in heavy drops, but lasted only a short time. The sun now became obscured, and day seemed converted into night. Mr. Parmentier having ordered wine, his lady came to explain that she could not prevail on any of the servants to venture across the court to the cellar. The mayor, in spite of our remonstrances, immediately undertook the task himself; and when, upon his return, we apologised for putting him to so much trouble, he assured us that he would not on any account have lost the brilliant sight he had enjoyed, from the incessant explosions of the electric fluid, in the midst of such palpable darkness. Such a scene, he added, had not occurred at Enghien for many years; and we reckoned ourselves fortunate in having witnessed it. We had to remain housed for more than two hours; when the great cloud began to clear away, and to give promise of a serene and clear evening.”

Two days before, on the 10th, the same party had been surprised at Brussels by a similar tempest. They were on a visit to the garden of Mr. Gillet, and remarking on the construction of his forcing-house. “In this forcing-house, as is usual, the front of the roof extends over the sloping glass, till it reaches the perpendicular of the parapet. Mr. Gillet had no doubt, that the object of this sort of structure is to help to save the glass from the heavy falls of hail, which frequently accompany thunder storms. Just as he had made this observation, we perceived menacing thunder clouds approaching: the gardener hastened to secure his glazed frames; Mr. Gillet took his leave; and before we could get home, the whole horizon was overcast; lightning flashed incessantly; the streets seemed to have been suddenly swept of the inhabitants, the shop-doors were shut, and we could scarcely find a person of whom to inquire the way.”--The day had been altogether sultry; and at ten o’clock P. M. the mercury in the thermometer stood at seventy-two degrees Fahrenheit.[341]

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 56·42.

[341] Journal of a Horticultural Tour.

~September 13.~

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 56·90.

~September 14.~

HOLY CROSS.

The origin of the festival of “Holy Cross,” standing in the church of England calendar and almanacs, is related in vol. i. col. 1291, with some account of the _rood_ and the _rood-loft_ in churches.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 58·20.

~September 15.~

“THE DEVIL LOOKING OVER LINCOLN.”

On the 15th of September, 1731, “the famous devil that used to overlook Lincoln college in Oxford, was taken down, having, about two years since, lost his head, in a storm.”

On the same day in the same year “a crown, fixed on the top of Whitehall gate in the reign of king Charles II., fell down suddenly.”[342]

* * * * *

The origin of the statue of the devil at Oxford is not so certain as that the effigy was popular, and gave rise to the saying of “the devil looking over Lincoln.”

SATANIC SUPERSTITIONS.

That the devil has a “cloven foot,” which he cannot hide if it be looked for is a common belief with the vulgar. “The ground of this opinion at first,” says sir Thomas Browne, “might be his frequent appearing in the shape of a goat,” (this accounts also for his horns and tail,) “which answers this description. This was the opinion of the ancient christians, concerning the apparition of panites, fauns, and satyrs; and of this form we read of one that appeared to Anthony in the wilderness.” Mr. Brand collects, respecting this appearance, that Othello says, in the “Moor of Venice,”

“I look down towards his feet; but that’s a fable; If that thou be’st a devil, I cannot kill thee;”

which Dr. Johnson explains: “I look towards his feet, to see, if, according to the common opinion, his feet be cloven.” There is a popular superstition both in England and Scotland relative to _goats_: that they are never to be seen for twenty-four hours together; and that once in that space, they pay a visit to the devil in order to have their beards combed.

Baxter, in his “World of Spirits,” mentions an anecdote from whence Mr. Brand imagines, that “this infernal visitant was in no instance treated with more _sang froid_ on his appearing, or rather, perhaps, his imagined appearance, than by one Mr. White of Dorchester.” That gentleman was assessor to the Westminster Assembly at Lambeth, and “the devil, in a light night, stood by his bed-side: he looked awhile whether he would say or do any thing, and then said, ‘If thou hast nothing else to do, I have;’ and so turned himself to sleep.”

* * * * *

King James I. told his parliament in a speech on a certain occasion, that “the _devil_ is a busy _bishop_.” It has been objected to this saying of “His Most Dread Majesty,” that it would have sounded well enough from a professed enemy to the bench, “but came very improperly from a king who flattered them more, and was more flattered by them, than any prince till his time.”[343]

PRINTERS’ DEVILS.

As I was going the other day into Lincoln’s-inn, (says a writer in the “Grub-street Journal” of October 26, 1732,) under a great gateway, I met several lads loaded with great bundles of newspapers, which they brought from the stamp-office. They were all exceeding black and dirty; from whence I inferred they were “printers’ devils,” carrying from thence the returns of unsold newspapers, after the stamps had been cut off. They stopt under the gateway, and there laid down their loads; when one of them made the following harangue: “Devils, gentlemen, and brethren:--though I think we have no reason to be ashamed on account of the vulgar opinion concerning the origin of our name, yet we ought to acknowledge ourselves obliged to the learned herald, who, upon the death of any person of title, constantly gives an exact account of his ancient family in my London Evening Post. He says, there was one monsieur Devile, or De Ville, who came over with William the Conqueror, in company with De Laune, De Vice, De Val, D’Ashwood, D’Urfie, D’Umpling, &c. One of the sons of a descendant of this monsieur De Ville, was taken in by the famous Caxton in 1471, as an errand boy; was afterwards his apprentice, and in time an eminent printer, from whom our order took their name; but suppose they took it from infernal devils, it was not because they were messengers frequently sent in darkness, and appeared very black, but upon a reputable account, viz., John Fust, or Faustus, of Mentz, in Germany, was the inventor of printing, for which he was called a conjurer, and his art the black art. As he kept a constant succession of boys to run on errands, who were always very black, these they called devils; some of whom being raised to be his apprentices, he was said to have raised many a devil. As to the inferior order among us, called flies, employed in taking newspapers off the press, they are of later extraction, being no older than newspapers themselves. Mr. Bailey thinks, their original name was lies, taken from the papers they so took off, and the alteration occasioned thus. To hasten these boys, the pressmen used to cry flie, lie, which naturally fell into one single word lie. This conjecture is confirmed by a little corruption in the true title of the fLying Post; since, therefore, we are both comprehended under the title of devils, let us discharge our office with diligence; so may we attain, as many of our predecessors have done, to the dignity of printers, and to have an opportunity of using others as much like poor devils, as we have been used by them, or as they and authors are used by booksellers. These are an upstart profession, who have engrossed the business of bookselling, which originally belonged solely to our masters. But let them remember, that if we worship Belial and Beelzebub, the God of flies, all the world agrees, that their God is mammon.”

* * * * *

The preceding is from the “Gentleman’s Magazine” for October, 1732; and it is mentioned, that “at the head of the article is a picture emblematically displaying the art and mystery of printing; in which are represented a compositor, with an ass’s head; two pressmen, one with the head of a hog, the other of a horse, being names which they fix upon one another; a flie taking off the sheets, and a devil hanging them up; a messenger with a greyhound’s face kicking out the “Craftsman;” a figure with two faces, for the master, to show he prints on both sides; but the reader is cautioned against applying it to any particular person, who is, or ever was a printer; for that all the figures were intended to represent characters and not persons.”

* * * * *

It is a proverbial expression, not confined to our country, that “the devil is not so black as he is painted.” The French, in their usual forms of speech, mention him with great honour and respect. Thus, when they would commend any thing, they break out into this pious exclamation, “Diable! que cela est bon!” When they would represent a man honest, sincere, and sociable, they call him “un bon Diable.” Some of our own countrymen will say, a thing is “devilish good;” a lady is “devilish pretty.” In a mixture of surprise and approbation, they say, “the devil’s in this fellow, or he is a comical devil.” Others speak of the apostate angel with abhorrence, and nothing is more common than to say, “such a one is a sad devil.” I remember when I was at St. Germains, a story of a gentleman, who being in waiting at the court of king James II., and the discourse running upon demons and apparitions, the king asked him whether ever he had seen any thing of that sort. “Yes,” replied he, “last night.” His majesty asked him what he had seen. He answered, “the devil.” Being asked in what shape,--“O sir,” said he, with a sigh, “in his usual and natural shape, that of an empty bottle.”[344]

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 59·32.

[342] Gentleman’s Magazine.

[343] Ibid.

[344] Ibid.

~September 16.~

FRAUDULENT DEBTOR.

On the 16th of September, 1735, Mr. Yardley died in the Fleet prison, where he had been confined nearly ten years in execution for a debt of a hundred pounds. He was possessed of nearly seven hundred a year, and securities and other effects to the value of five thousand pounds were found in his room.[345]

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 59·04.

[345] Gentleman’s Magazine.

~September 17.~

LAMBERT.

There is an account of this saint of the church of England calendar, in vol. i. col. 1295.

REMARKABLE THIEF.

On the 17th of September, 1737, the secret was discovered of some mysterious robberies committed in Gray’s-inn, while the inhabitants had been in the country.

About a month before, there died at a madhouse near Red Lion-square, one Mr. Rudkins, who had chambers up three pair of stairs, at No. 14, in Holborn-court, Gray’s-inn. His sister-in law and executrix, who lived in Staffordshire, wrote to Mr. Cotton, a broker, to take care of the effects in her behalf; and he having read a Mr. Warren’s advertisement of his chambers having been robbed, found several of his writings there; several things of a Mr. Ellis, who had been robbed about two years before of above three hundred pounds, of a Mr. Lawson’s of the Temple, and of captain Haughton’s, whose chambers were broken open some years previously, and two hundred pounds’ reward offered for his writings, which were a part found here. There were also found books to one hundred pounds’ value, belonging to Mr. Osborne the bookseller in Gray’s-inn.

It is remarkable, that when Mr. Rudkins had any thing in view in this way, he would padlock up his own door, and take horse at noonday, giving out to his laundress that he was going into the country. His chambers consisted of five rooms, two of which not even his laundress was ever admitted into, and in these was found the booty, with all his working tools, picklocks, &c. He had formerly been a tradesman in King-street, near Guildhall. It is further remarkable of this private house-breaker, that he always went to Abingdon’s coffee-house, in Holborn, on an execution-day, to see from thence the poor wretches pass by to their dismal end; and at no other time did he frequent that coffee-house.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 58·95.

~September 18.~

GEORGE I. AND II. LANDED.

The “coming over” of these two kings of the house of Brunswick, is marked in the almanacs on this day, which is kept as a holiday at all the public offices, except the excise, stamps, and customs.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 58·97.

~September 19.~

UNIVERSITY OF GOTTINGEN.

In September, 1737, a new university founded at Gottingen, by his Britannic majesty, which has since attained to great eminence, was “opened with a very solemn inauguration.” In 1788, the black board, on the walls of its council-house, bore three edicts for the expulsion of three students named Westfield, Planch, and Bauer. These papers were drawn up in Latin by the celebrated professor Heyne, and are printed in the “Gentleman’s Magazine” for June, 1789. King George IV., when prince regent in 1814, sent a copy of every important work published in England during the ten preceding years, as a present to the library of the university, agreeable to a promise he had made to that purport.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 57·87.

~September 20.~

HEALTH--_Cholera Morbus_.

This is, of all times of the year, the most productive of epidemical disorders of the bowels, which are erroneously ascribed to fruits, but which, in reality, the autumnal fruits seem best calculated to mollify. If the diarrhea be very violent, or accompanied with incessant vomiting, as in _cholera morbus_, the best practice is, after the intestinal canal has been suffered copiously to evacuate itself, to take small doses of chalk, or of some other substance known to check the disorder, with which chemists are always prepared. But in ordinary cases, it is a safer plan to let the disease spend itself, as there is a great deal of irritation of the intestines, which the flux carries off. We should avoid eating animal food, but take tea, broths, gruel, and other diluents, and the disorder will usually soon subside of itself. After it has so subsided we should guard against its return, by taking great care to keep the bowels regular, by eating light and vegetable food and fruits, or now and then taking a gentle dose of aloes, gr. iiii. The pills which commonly go by the name of Hunt’s pills, if genuine, are very good medicines to regulate the bowels. When low spirits and want of bile indicate the liver to partake much of the disease, two grains of the pil. hydrarg., commonly called blue pill, may be used now and then with advantage.[346]

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 58·45.

[346] Dr. Forster’s Perennial Calendar.

~September 21.~

THE SEASON.

Swallows and martins are still very numerous, the general migration not having begun. They roost in immense numbers on buildings, round about which martins fly some times in such quantities as almost to darken the air with their plumes. Sparrows, linnets, various finches, and also plovers, are now seen about in flocks, according to an annual habit, prevalent among many kinds of birds, of assembling together in autumn.[347]

* * * * *

The accompanying stanzas applicable to the season, are extracted from an original poem, entitled “The Libertine of the Emerald Isle,” which will, probably, be published early in the next year.

AUTUMN.

_For the Every-Day Book._

The leaves are falling, and the hollow breeze At ev’ning tide sweeps mournfully along, Making sad music, such as minor keys Develope in a melancholy song: The meadows, too, are losing by degrees Their green habiliments--and now among The various works of nature there appears A gen’ral gloom, prophetic of the year’s

Approaching dissolution:--but to me These sombre traits are pregnant with delight, And yield my soul more true felicity Than words can justly picture:--they invite My mind to contemplation--they agree With my heart’s bias, and at once excite Those feelings, both of love and admiration, Which make this world a glorious revelation!

Hence--not unfrequently when all is still, And Cynthia walks serenely through the sky, Silv’ring the groves and ev’ry neighb’ring hill, I sit and ponder on the years gone by: This is the time when reason has her fill Of this world’s good and evil, when the eye Of contemplation takes a boundless range Of spheres that never vacillate or change!

Sweet Autumn! thou’rt surrounded with the charms Of reason, and philosophy, and truth, And ev’ry “sound reflection” that disarms This life of half its terrors:--in our youth We feel no sense of danger, and the qualms Of conscience seldom trouble us forsooth, Because the splendour of its reign destroys Whatever checks our sublunary joys?

But thou art far too rigid and severe To let these errors triumph for a day, Or suffer folly, in her mad career, To sweep our reas’ning faculties away! Thou pointest out the fun’ral of the year, The summer’s wreck and palpable decay, Stamping a “moral lesson” on the mind, To awe, restrain, and meliorate mankind!

But men are callous to thy warning voice, And pass thee by, regardless of thy worth, Making a false and perishable choice Of all the fleeting pleasures of the earth: They love gross riot, turbulence, and noise, The Bacchanalian’s ebriating mirth, And when the autumn of their lives creeps on, Their wit has vanish’d, and their strength is gone!

But had they been observant of thy pow’rs, And ponder’d o’er thy ruin and decay, They might have well applied them to those hours Which nothing, for an instant, can delay; But whilst health, strength, and competence are our’s, And youth is basking in the summer’s ray, Life’s autumn scenes reluctantly are view’d, And folly’s visions joyously pursued!

B. W. R.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 58·02.

[347] Dr. Forster’s Perennial Calendar.

~September 22.~

ST. MAURICE.

This saint, to whom and his companions a festival is celebrated by the Romish church on this day, received a similar honour in England. They are said to have been officers in the Theban legion, which refused to sacrifice to the gods on their march into Gaul, and were, therefore, ordered to be decimated by Maximian. Every tenth man was accordingly put to death, and on their continued resistance, a second decimation ordered, and Maurice and his companions encouraged them, and the whole legion consisting of six thousand six hundred men, well armed, being no way intimidated to idolatry by cruelty, were slaughtered by the rest of the army, and relics of their bodies were gathered and preserved, and worked miracles.[348]

BATTLE OF THREEKINGHAM.

_For the Every-Day Book._

The village of Threekingham, in the county of Lincoln, was known by the name of Laundon, previous to this day, A. D. 870, when a battle was fought between the English and Danes, of which Ingulphus, a monk of Crowland abbey, has left the following account.

The Danes entered England in the year 879, and wintered at York; and in the year 880 proceeded to the parts of Lindsey, in Lincolnshire, where they commenced their destructive depredations by laying waste the abbey of Bardney. In the month of September in the latter year, earl Algar, with two of his seneschals, (Wibert, owner of Wiberton, and Leofric, owner of Leverton,) attended by the men of Holland (Lincolnshire), Toly, a monk (formerly a soldier), with two hundred men belonging to Crowland abbey, and three hundred from Deeping, Langtoft, and Boston, Morcar, lord of Bourn, with his powerful family, and Osgot, sheriff of Lincolnshire, with the forces of the county, being five hundred more, mustered in Kesteven, on the day of St. Maurice, and fought with the Danes, over whom they obtained considerable advantage, killing three of their kings and many of their private soldiers, and pursued the rest to their very camp, until night obliged them to separate. In the same night several princes and earls of the Danes, with their followers, who had been out in search of plunder, came to the assistance of their countrymen; by the report of which many of the English were so dismayed that they took to flight. Those, however, who had resolution to face the enemy in the morning, went to prayers, and were marshalled for battle. Among the latter was Toly with his five hundred men in the right wing, with Morcar and his followers to support them; and Osgot the sheriff, with his five hundred men, and with the stout knight, Harding de Riehall, and the men of Stamford. The Danes, after having buried the three kings whom they had lost the day before, at a place there called Laundon, but since, from that circumstance, called _Three-king-ham_, marched out into the field. The battle began, and the English, though much inferior in numbers, kept their ground the greater part of the day with steadiness and resolution, until the Danes feigning a flight, were rashly pursued without attention to order. The Danes then took advantage of the confusion of the English, returned to the charge, and made their opponents pay dearly for their temerity; in fine, the Danes were completely victorious. In this battle, earl Algar, the monk Toly, and many other valiant men, were slain on the part of the English; after which the Danes proceeded to the destruction of the abbeys of Crowland, Thorney, Ramsey and Hamstede (Peterborough) and many other places in the neighbourhood.--Thus far is from Ingulphus the monk.

A fair, said to have arisen from the above circumstance, is annually held at _Three-king-ham_, on a remarkable piece of ground, called _Stow Green Hill_, reported to be the spot whereon the battle was principally contested, and Domesday-book in some degree corroborates the statement; for in the Conqueror’s time, A. D. 1080, when that survey was taken, we find that there was then a fair held here, which yielded forty shillings, accounted for to Gilbert de Gand, lord of Foldingham. This fair, however, is not held now in the month of September, but commences on the 15th of June, and continues till the fourth of July, and was very probably changed in the fifty-second year of the reign of king Henry III., who according to Tanner’s “Notitia Monastica,” granted a charter for a fair at this place to the monastery of Sempringham.

SLEAFORDENSIS.

_September 8, 1826._

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 57·70.

[348] Butler.

~September 23.~

OPENING OF THE WINTER THEATRES.

_For the Every-Day Book._

To cultivate pleasant associations, may well be deemed a part and parcel of the philosophy of life. Now that spring, that sweet season redolent of flowers and buds hath passed away, and summer mellowing into autumn, has well nigh fallen into the “sere the yellow leaf,” _we_ in “populous city pent,” gladly revert to those social enjoyments peculiar to a great metropolis, and among which stand conspicuous, the amusements of the acted drama.

The opening of the winter theatres may be reckoned as one of the principal _fasti_ of cockney land, an epoch which distinctly marks the commencement of a winter in London. How changed from the auspicious season, when the bright sun glancing into our gloomy retreats, tantalizes us with visions of the breathing sweets of nature, and when we in our very dreams “babbled of green fields,”--to the period when even the thronged and dirty streets are endurable, as we wend our way perchance through a fog, (a London particular,) towards the crowded and gaily lighted theatre, by contrast made more brilliant.

“My first play” forms an era to most young persons, and is generally cherished among our more agreeable juvenile reminiscences: but the subject has been recently expatiated upon so delightfully and in so genial a spirit by ELIA, as almost to make further comment “a wasteful and ridiculous excess.” I well remember the vast and splendid area of old Drury-lane theatre, where the mysterious green curtain portico, to that curious microcosm the stage, first met my youthful gaze. The performances were, the “Stranger” and “Blue Beard,” both then in the very bloom of their popularity: and whatever difference of opinion may exist as to the moral tendency of the first, all must allow that never piece was more effective in the representation, when aided by the unrivalled talents of Kemble, and Mrs. Siddons, at that time in the zenith of their powers. I confess, that to my unsophisticated boyish feelings, subdued by the cunning of the scene, it seemed quite natural, that the sufferings of bitter remorse and repentance should suffice to ensure the pity and forgiveness of outraged society.--Happy age, when the generous impulses of our nature are not yet blunted by the stern experience of after life!

This brings me to record a remarkable and disastrous event in theatrical annals, and one which in a great measure suggested the present communication. It was my fortune to be present at the _last_ performances ever given on the boards of Old Drury--and which took place on Thursday evening the 23rd of February, 1809--when was acted for the first, and as it proved, the last time, a new opera composed by Bishop, called the “Circassian Bride.” The next night this magnificent theatre was a pile of burning ruins. The awful grandeur of the conflagration defies description, but to enlarge upon a circumstance so comparatively recent would be purely gratuitous; it was, however, an event which might be truly said, “to eclipse the harmless gaiety of nations,”--for the metropolis then presented the unprecedented spectacle of the national drama without a home,--the two sister theatres both prostrate in the dust!

Annexed is a copy of the play-bill, which at this distance of time, may perhaps be valued as an interesting relic, illustrative of dramatic history.

J. H.

* * * * *

NEVER ACTED.

Theatre Royal, Drury-lane.

This present THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 23, 1809.

Their Majesties Servants will perform a New Opera, in Three Acts, called the

CIRCASSIAN BRIDE.

_With New Scenery, Dresses, and Decorations._

The OVERTURE and MUSIC entirely new, composed by Mr. BISHOP.

_CIRCASSIANS._

Alexis, Mr. BRAHAM,

Rhindax, Mr. DE CAMP,

Demetrio, Mr. MARSHALL,

Basil, Mr. RAY,

Officers, Mr. GIBBON, Mr. MILLER,

Chief Priest, Mr. MADDOCKS,

Erminia, Miss LYON.

_ENGLISH._

Ben Blunt, Mr. BANNISTER,

Tom Taffrel, Mr. SMITH,

Rachael, Mrs. MOUNTAIN.

_TARTARS._

Usberg, (_the Khan_,) Mr. J. SMITH,

Barak, Mr. MATHEWS, Kerim, Mr. FISHER, Hassan, Mr. COOKE, Slaves, Messrs. WEBB, EVANS, CHATTERLEY, Anna, Mrs. BLAND.

The _DANCE_ by Mesds. GREEN, TWAMLEY, DAVIS, H. and F. DENNET.

_Chorus of Circassians, Tartars, &c._ By Messrs. Danby, Cook, Evans, Caulfield, Bond, Dibble, Jones, Mesds. Stokes, Chatterley, Menage, Maddocks, Wells, Butler. The New Scenes designed by Mr. GREENWOOD, And executed by him, Mr. BANKS, and Assistants. The Dresses and Decorations, by Mr. JOHNSTON, and executed by him, Mr. BANKS and Mr. UNDERWOOD. The Female Dresses designed and executed by Miss REIN. Books of the Songs to be had in the Theatre.

To which will be added the Farce of FORTUNE’S FROLIC.

Robin Roughhead, Mr. MATHEWS, Rattle, Mr. PALMER, Nancy Miss LACY Margery, Mrs. SPARKS, Dolly, Mrs. HARLOWE. Places for the Boxes to be taken of Mr. SPRING, at the Box-Office, Russel-street.

_No money to be returned._

Vivant Rex et Regina! (Lowndes and Hobbs, Printers, Marquis-court, Drury-lane.)

* * * * *

“ELIA.”-Why should J. H. pop on me with his mention of ELIA, just as I was about to write “an article?” Write!--it’s impossible. I have turned to “My First Play”--I cannot get it out my head: the reader must take the consequence of my inability, and of the fault of J. H., and read what I shall never approach to, in writing, were I to “grind my quill these hundred years”----

MY FIRST PLAY

BY ELIA.

At the north end of Cross-court there yet stands a portal, of some architectural pretensions, though reduced to humble use, serving at present for an entrance to a printing-office. This old door-way, if you are young, reader, you may not know was the identical pit entrance to Old Drury--Garrick’s Drury--all of it that is left. I never pass it without shaking some forty years from off my shoulders, recurring to the evening when I passed through it to see _my first play_. The afternoon had been wet, and the condition of our going (the elder folks and myself) was, that the rain should cease. With what a beating heart did I watch from the window the puddles, from the stillness of which I was taught to prognosticate the desired cessation! I seem to remember the last spurt, and the glee with which I ran to announce it.

We went with orders, which my godfather F. had sent us. He kept the oil shop (now Davies’s) at the corner of Featherstone-building, in Holborn. F. was a tall grave person, lofty in speech, and had pretensions above his rank. He associated in those days with John Palmer, the comedian, whose gait and bearing he seemed to copy; if John (which is quite as likely) did not rather borrow somewhat of his manner from my godfather. He was also known to, and visited by, Sheridan. It was to his house in Holborn, that young Brinsley brought his first wife on her elopement with him from a boarding school at Bath--the beautiful Maria Linley. My parents were present (over a quadrille table) when he arrived in the evening with his harmonious charge.--From either of these connections, it may be inferred that my godfather could command an order for the then Drury-lane theatre at pleasure--and, indeed, a pretty liberal issue of those cheap billets, in Brinsley’s easy autograph, I have heard him say was the sole remuneration which he had received for many years’ nightly illumination of the orchestra, and various avenues of that theatre--and he was content that it should be so. The honour of Sheridan’s familiarity--or supposed familiarity--was better to my godfather than money.

F. was the most gentlemanly of oilmen; grandiloquent, yet courteous. His delivery of the commonest matters of fact was Ciceronian. He had two Latin words almost constantly in his mouth, (how odd sounds Latin from an oilman’s lips!) which my better knowledge since, has enabled me to correct. In strict pronunciation they should have been sounded _vice versâ_--but in those young years they impressed me with more awe than they would now do, read aright from Seneca or Varro--in his own peculiar pronunciation, monosyllabically elaborated, or anglicized, into something like _verse verse_. By an imposing manner, and the help of these distorted syllables, he climbed (but that was little) to the highest parochial honours which St. Andrew’s has to bestow.

He is dead, and thus much I thought due to his memory, both for my first orders (little wondrous talismans!--slight keys, and insignificant to outward sight, but opening to me more than Arabian paradises!) and moreover, that by his testamentary beneficence I came into possession of the only landed property which I could ever call my own--situate near the road-way village of pleasant Puckeridge, in Hertfordshire. When I journied down to take possession, and planted foot on my own ground, the stately habits of the donor descended upon me, and I strode (shall I confess the vanity?) with larger paces over my allotment of three quarters of an acre, with its commodious mansion in the midst with the feeling of an English freeholder, that all betwixt sky and centre was my own. The estate has passed into more prudent hands, and nothing but an agrarian can restore it.

In those days were pit orders. Beshrew the uncomfortable manager who abolished them!--with one of these we went. I remember the waiting at the door--not that which is left--but between that and an inner door in shelter--O when shall I be such an expectant again;--with the cry of nonpareils, an indispensable playhouse accompaniment in those days. As near as I can recollect, the fashionable pronunciation of the theatrical fruiteresses then was, “Chase some oranges, chase some numparels, chase a bill of the play;”--chase _pro_ chuse. But when we got in, and I beheld the green curtain that veiled a heaven to my imagination, which was soon to be disclosed--the breathless anticipations I endured! I had seen something like it in the plate prefixed to “Troilus and Cressida,” in Rowe’s “Shakspeare”--the tent scene with Diomede--and a sight of that plate can always bring back in a measure the feeling of that evening.--The boxes at that time, full of well-dressed women of quality, projected over the pit; and the pilasters reaching down were adorned with a glistering substance (I know not what) under glass (as it seemed) resembling--a homely fancy--but I judged it to be sugar-candy--yet, to my raised imagination, divested of its homelier qualities, it appeared a glorified candy!--The orchestra lights at length arose, those “fair Auroras!” Once the bell sounded. It was to ring out yet once again--and, incapable of the anticipation, I reposed my shut eyes in a sort of resignation upon the maternal lap. It rang the second time. The curtain drew up--I was not past six years old--and the play was Artaxerxes!

I had dabbled a little in the Universal History--the ancient part of it--and here was the court of Persia. It was being admitted to a sight of the past. I took no proper interest in the action going on, for I understood not its import--but I heard the word Darius, and I was in the midst of Daniel. All feeling was absorbed in vision. Gorgeous vests, gardens, palaces, princesses, passed before me. I knew not players. I was in Persepolis for the time; and the burning idol of their devotion almost converted me into a worshipper. I was awe-struck, and believed those significations to be something more than elemental fires. It was all enchantment and a dream. No such pleasure has since visited me but in dreams.--Harlequin’s Invasion followed; where, I remember, the transformation of the magistrates into reverend beldams seemed to me a piece of grave historic justice, and the tailor carrying his own head to be as sober a verity as the legend of St. Denys.

The next play to which I was taken was the “Lady of the Manor,” of which, with the exception of some scenery, very faint traces are left in my memory. It was followed by a pantomime, called “Lun’s Ghost”--a satiric touch, I apprehend, upon Rich, not long since dead--but to my apprehension (too sincere for satire) “Lun” was as remote a piece of antiquity as “Lud”--the father of a line of Harlequins--transmitting his dagger of lath (the wooden sceptre) through countless ages. I saw the primeval Motley come from his silent tomb in a ghastly vest of white patch-work, like the apparition of a dead rainbow. So harlequins (thought I) look when they are dead.

My third play followed in quick succession. It was the “Way of the World.” I think I must have sat at it as grave as a judge; for, I remember, the hysteric affectations of good lady Wishfort affected me like some solemn tragic passion. “Robinson Crusoe” followed; in which Crusoe, man Friday, and the parrot, were as good and authentic as in the story.--The clownery and pantaloonery of these pantomimes have clean passed out of my head. I believe, I no more laughed at them, than at the same age I should have been disposed to laugh at the grotesque Gothic heads (seeming to me then replete with devout meaning) that gape, and grin, in stone around the inside of the old round church (my church) of the Templars.

I saw these plays in the season 1781-2, when I was from six to seven years old. After the intervention of six or seven other years (for at school all play-going was inhibited) I again entered the doors of a theatre. That old Artaxerxes evening had never done ringing in my fancy. I expected the same feelings to come again with the same occasion. But we differ from ourselves less at sixty and sixteen, than the latter does from six. In that interval what had I not lost! At the first period I knew nothing, understood nothing, discriminated nothing. I felt all, loved all, wondered all--

Was nourished, I could not tell how.--

I had left the temple a devotee, and was returned a rationalist. The same things were there materially; but the emblem, the reference, was gone!--The green curtain was no longer a veil, drawn between two worlds, the unfolding of which was to bring back past ages, to present “a royal ghost,”--but a certain quantity of green baize, which was to separate the audience for a given time from certain of their fellow-men who were to come forward and pretend those parts. The lights--the orchestra lights--came up a clumsy machinery. The first ring, and the second ring, was now but a trick of the prompter’s bell--which had been, like the note of the cuckoo, a phantom of a voice, no hand seen or guessed at which ministered to its warning. The actors were men and women painted. I thought the fault was in them; but it was in myself, and the alteration which those many centuries--of six short twelvemonths--had wrought in me. Perhaps it was fortunate for me that the play of the evening was but an indifferent comedy, as it gave me time to crop some unreasonable expectations, which might have interfered with the genuine emotions with which I was soon after enabled to enter upon the first appearance to me of Mrs. Siddons in “Isabella.” Comparison and retrospection soon yielded to the present attraction of the scene; and the theatre became to me, upon a new stock, the most delightful of recreations.

* * * * *

After this robbery of “ELIA,” my conscience forces me to declare that I wish every reader would save me from the shame of further temptation to transgress, by ordering “ELIA” into his collection. There is no volume in our language so full of beauty, truth, and feeling, as the volume of “ELIA.” I am convinced that every person who has not seen it, and may take the hint, will thank me for acquainting him with a work which he cannot look into without pleasure, nor lay down without regret. It is a delicious book.

SHERBORNE BELLS.

On this day it is a custom to exercise the largest bell of one of our country churches, in the manner described in the following communication.

TOLLING DAY.

_For the Every-Day Book._

The 23d of September has obtained in Sherborne, Dorset, the name of “tolling-day,” in commemoration of the death of John Lord Digby, baron Digby of Sherborne, and earl of Bristol, in the year MDCXCVIII. and in conformity with the following wish expressed in a codicil annexed to his lordship’s will.

“Item, I give and bequeath out of my said estate to the parish church, the yearly sum of ten pounds, to be paid by my successors, lords of the said manor for the time being, at and upon, or within forty days after, the feast days of St. Michael the archangel, and of the annunciation of our blessed lady St. Mary the virgin, by equal portions yearly and for ever, and to be employed and bestowed by the churchwardens of the said parish for the time being, with the consent of the lord of the said manor for the time being, in keeping in good repair the chancel, and towards the reparations of the rest of the said church, yearly and for ever; provided that my successors, the lord or lords of the said manor for the time being, shall have and enjoy a convenient pew, or seat, in the said chancel for himself and family for ever; and provided that the said churchwardens for the time being, shall cause the largest bell in the tower of the said church, to be tolled six full hours, that is to say, from five to nine of the clock in the forenoon, and from twelve o’clock till two in the afternoon, on that day of the said month whereon it shall be my lot to depart this life, every year and for ever; otherwise this gift of ten pounds per annum shall determine and be void.”

This custom is annually observed, but not to the extent above intended, the tolling of the bell being limited to two hours instead of six. It begins to toll at six o’clock and continues till seven in the morning, when six men, who toll the bell for church service, repair to the mansion of the present earl Digby, with two large stone jars, which are there filled with some of his lordship’s strong beer, and, with a quantity of bread and cheese, taken to the church by the tollers and equally divided amongst them, together with a small remuneration in money paid by the churchwardens as a compensation for their labour. At twelve o’clock the bell is again tolled till one, and in the evening divine service is performed at the church, and a lecture suited to the occasion delivered from the pulpit; for which lecture or sermon the vicar is paid thirty pounds, provided by the will of the above donor.

R. T.

BOW BELLS.

Who has not heard of “Bow Bells?” Who that has heard them does not feel an interest in their sounds, or in the recollection of them? The editor is preparing an article on “Bow Bells,” and for that purpose

## particularly desires communications. Accounts relative to their present

or former state, or any facts or anecdotes respecting them at any time, are earnestly solicited from every reader as soon as possible.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 56·02.

~September 24.~

A GOOD TENANT.

In the “Gentleman’s Magazine,” for September, 1775, Mr. Clayton, a wealthy farmer of Berkshire, is related to have died at the extraordinary age of a hundred and fifteen years, and retained his faculties to the last; he is further remarkable, for having rented one farm ninety years. An occupancy of so great duration, by one individual, is perhaps unequalled in the history of landlord and tenant.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 55·40.

~September 25.~

SEA SIDE SPORTS.

There is an exhilarating effect in the sea-air and coast scenery, which inland views or atmosphere, however fine, fail to communicate.

On the 25th of September, 1825, a gentleman and lady came out of one of the hotels near the Steyne, and after taking a fair start, set off running round the Steyne. They both ran very swiftly, but the young lady bounded forward with the agility of the chamois and the fleetness of the deer, and returned to the spot from whence they started a considerable distance before the gentleman. She appeared much pleased with her victory. There were but few persons on the Steyne at the time, but those who were there, expressed their admiration at the swiftness of this second Atalanta.[349]

BRIGHTON.

In Mr. Hazlitt’s “Notes of a Journey through France and Italy,” he mentions the place from whence he sailed for the continent:--

“Brighton stands facing the sea, on the bare cliffs, with glazed windows to reflect the glaring sun, and black pitchy bricks shining like the scales of fishes. The town is however gay with the influx of London visiters--happy as the conscious abode of its sovereign! Every thing here appears in motion--coming or going. People at a watering-place may be compared to the flies of a summer; or to fashionable dresses, or suits of clothes, walking about the streets. The only idea you gain is, of finery and motion. The road between London and Brighton, presents some very charming scenery; Reigate is a prettier English country-town than is to be found anywhere--out of England! As we entered Brighton in the evening, a Frenchman was playing and singing to a guitar.--The genius of the south had come out to meet us.”

When Mr. Hazlitt arrived at Brighton, it was in the full season. He says, “A lad offered to conduct us to an inn. ‘Did he think there was room?’ He was sure of it. ‘Did he belong to the inn?’ ‘No,’ he was from London. In fact, he was a young gentleman from town, who had been stopping some time at the White-horse hotel, and who wished to employ his spare time (when he was not riding out on a blood-horse) in serving the house, and relieving the perplexities of his fellow-travellers. No one but a Londoner would volunteer his assistance in this way. Amiable land of _Cockayne_, happy in itself, and in making others happy! Blest exuberance of self-satisfaction, that overflows upon others! Delightful impertinence, that is forward to oblige them!”

* * * * *

It is here both in place and season, to quote a passage of remarkably fine thought:--

“There is something in being near the sea, like the confines of eternity. It is a new element, a pure abstraction. The mind loves to hover on that which is endless, and for ever the same. People wonder at a steam-boat, the invention of man, managed by man, that makes its liquid path like an iron railway through the sea--I wonder at the sea itself, that vast Leviathan, rolled round the earth, smiling in its sleep, waked into fury, fathomless, boundless, a huge world of water-drops.--Whence is it, whither goes it, is it of eternity or of nothing? Strange ponderous riddle, that we can neither penetrate nor grasp in our comprehension, ebbing and flowing like human life, and swallowing it up in thy remorseless womb,--what art thou? What is there in common between thy life and ours, who gaze at thee? Blind, deaf and old, thou seest not, hearest not, understandest not; neither do we understand, who behold and listen to thee! Great as thou art, unconscious of thy greatness, unwieldy, enormous, preposterous twin-birth of matter, rest in thy dark, unfathomed cave of mystery, mocking human pride and weakness. Still is it given to the mind of man to wonder at thee, to confess its ignorance, and to stand in awe of thy stupendous might and majesty, and of its own being, that can question thine!”[350]

* * * * *

In Mr. Hazlitt’s “Journey through France and Italy,” there are “thoughts that breathe and words that burn.” His conceptions of beauty and grandeur, are at all times simple and vast. His works are pervaded by the results of profound thinking. His sentences have the power of elevating things that are deemed little remarkable, and of lowering those which successive submissions to over praise, have preposterously magnified. Many of the remarks on works of art, in his “Notes of a Journey through France and Italy,” will be wholly new to persons who never reflected on the subjects of his criticism, and will not be openly assented to by others thinking as _he_ does, who, for the first time, has ventured to publicly dissent from received notions. If any of his opinions be deemed incorrect, the difference can easily be arbitrated. Taking the originals, whether corporeal or imaginary existences, as the standard, our pure sight and feeling may be relied on as unerring judges of the imitations.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 54·27.

[349] Brighton paper.

[350] Mr. Hazlitt’s Journey.

~September 26.~

ST. CYPRIAN. OLD HOLY ROOD.

For these remembrances in the church of England calendar and almanacs, see vol. i. p. 1324.

* * * * *

Communications of local customs are always received and inserted with satisfaction. It is with peculiar pleasure that the editor submits the following, from a gentleman with respect to whom he has nothing to regret, but that he is not permitted to honour the work, by annexing the name of the respectable writer to the letter.

PAISLEY HALLOW-EVE FIRES.

SHEFFIELD SCOTLAND FEAST.

_Paisley, September 21, 1826._

_To the Editor of the Every-Day Book._

Sir,--Having been a subscriber to your _Every-Day Book_ from its first appearance in this town, up to the present time, I reproach myself with neglect, in not having sent you before now, an account of a rather singular custom prevalent here, and, as it should seem, of ancient date.

The river White Cart, on which Paisley stands, although affected by the tide, and navigable to the town for vessels not exceeding fifty tons’ burden, is often remarkably shallow at low water. This is especially the case between the highest and the lowest of three stone bridges, by which the old town or burgh is connected with the new town. In this shallow part of the stream, parties of boys construct, on _Hallow-eve_,--the night when varied superstitions engross most of old Scotia’s peasantry,--circular raised hearths, if I may so term them, of earth or clay; bordered by a low round wall composed of loose stones, sods, &c. Within these enclosures, the boys kindle on their hearths, bonfires, often of considerable size. From the bridges, the appearance of these bonfires, after nightfall, is singular; and attracts, as spectators, many of the grown-up inhabitants of the place. The number and glare of the fires, their tremulous reflection in the surrounding water, the dark moving figures of the boys that group around them, and the shouts and screams set up by the youthful urchins in testimony of enjoyment, might almost make one fancy that the rites and incantations of magic, or of wizardry, were taking place before one’s very eyes. What is the origin of this custom, or how long it has prevailed, I do not know.

Ere I relinquish my pen, allow me to describe to you another singular custom, which obtains in the largest town of England, north of the Trent.[351] No one is better acquainted than, Mr. Hone, are you, with the existence of the wake or feast, still held annually in some of the towns, and nearly all the parochial villages of the midland and northern counties. In many of the larger towns, the traces of the ancient wake are, indeed, nearly worn out, and this is pretty much the case with that

## particular town, to which reference has just been made, namely,

Sheffield; our great national emporium for cutlery, files, edge-tools, and the better kinds of plated goods. Only in a few ancient and primitive families, do roast beef, plum-pudding, and an extra allowance of Yorkshire stingo, gracing, on _Trinity Sunday_, a large table, begirt with some dozen of happy, and happy-faced town and country cousins, show, that the venerable head of the family, and his antique dame, have not forgotten Sheffield feast-day. But if the observance of Sheffield feast itself be thus partial, and verging towards disuse, amends is made for the circumstance, in the establishment, and pretty vigorous keeping up of sundry local feasts, held on different days, within the town, or in its suburbs. Besides those of the Wicker and little Sheffield, which are suburban, Broad-lane and Scotland-street, in the town itself, have their respective feasts too. At Little Sheffield and in Broad-lane, the zest of the annual festivity is often heightened by ass-races; foot-races, masculine, for a hat; foot-races, feminine, for a chemise; grinning-matches; and, though less frequently, the humours and rattle of a mountebank and his merry andrew. Occasionally too changes, in imitation of those on the church bells, are rung, by striking with a hammer, or a short piece of steel, on six, eight, or ten long bars each suspended by twine from the roof of a workshop, and the entire set chosen so as to resemble pretty nearly, a ring of bells, both in diversity and in sequence of tone.[352]

_Scotland feast_, however, in point of interest, bears away the bell from all the other district revels of Sheffield. It is so called from Scotland-street, already mentioned; a long, hilly, and very populous one, situated in the northern part of the town. On the eve of the feast, which is yearly held on the 29th of May, the anniversary of the restoration of our second Charles, parties of the inhabitants repair into the neighbouring country; whence, chiefly however from Walkley-bank, celebrated as Sheffield schoolboys too well know for birch trees, they bring home, at dead of night, or morning’s earliest dawn, from sixteen to twenty well-sized trees, besides a profusion of branches. The trees they instantly plant in two rows; one on each side of the street, just without the kirbstone of the flagged pavement. With the branches, they decorate the doors and windows of houses, the sign-boards of drinking-shops, and so on. By five or six in the morning Scotland-street, which is not very wide, has the appearance of a grove. And soon, from ropes stretched across it, three, four, or five, superb _garlands_ delight the eyes, and dance over the heads of the feast-folk. These garlands are composed of hoops, wreathed round with foliage and flowers, fluttering with variously coloured ribands, rustling with asidew,[353] and gay with silver tankards, pints, watches, &c. Before the door of the principal alehouse, the largest tree is always planted. The sign of this house is, if memory do not deceive me, the royal oak.[354] But be this as it may, certain it is, that duly ensconced among the branches of the said tree, may always be seen the effigy, in small, of king Charles the Second: to commemorate indeed the happy concealment and remarkable escape of the merry monarch, at Boscobel, should seem to be the object of creating a _sylvan_ scene at “Scotland feast;” while that of holding the feast itself on the anniversary of his restoration is, there can be little doubt, to celebrate with honour the principal event in the life of him, after whose ancient and peculiar kingdom the street itself is named. To the particulars already given, it needs scarcely be added, that dancing, drinking, and other merry-making are, as a Scotsman would say, _rife_,[355] at the annual commemoration thus briefly described.

Thanking you for much instruction, as well as entertainment, already derived from your book, and wishing you success from its publication, I remain, Sir,

Your obedient servant,

GULIELMUS.

_Asidew._

In vol. i. col. 1213, _arsedine_ is noticed as having been in use at Bartholomew fair, and Mr. Archdeacon Nares’s supposition is mentioned, that _arsedine_, _arsadine_, or _orsden_, as it was variously called, was a corruption of _arsenic_, or orpiment. The editor then ventured to hazard a different suggestion, and show that the word might be saxon, and expressive of “pigments obtained from minerals and metals.” Since then, a note in Mr. Sharp’s remarkably interesting “Dissertation on the Country Mysteries,” seems to favour the notion.

Mr. Sharp says, “At the end of Gent’s ‘History of York, 1730,’ is an advertisement of _numerous_ articles, sold by Hammond, a bookseller of that city, and amongst the rest occurs ‘Assidue or horse-gold,’ the very next article to which, is ‘hobby-horse-bells.’--A dealer in Dutch metal, Michael Oppenheim, 27, Mansell-street, Goodman’s-fields, thus described himself in 1816--‘Importer of bronze powder, Dutch metal, and OR-SEDEW,’ and upon inquiry respecting the last article, it proved to be that thin yellow metal, generally known by the name of _tinsel_, much used for ornamenting children’s dolls, hobby-horses, and some toys, as well as manufactured into various showy articles of dress. The word orsedew is evidently a corruption of _oripeau_ _i. e._ leaf (or skin) _gold_, afterwards _brass_. The Spaniards call it oropoel, gold-skin, and the Germans flitter-gold.”[356]

Through Mr. Sharp we have, at length, attained to a knowledge of this substance as the true _arsedine_ of our forefathers, and the _asidew_ of the Sheffield merry-makers at present.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 55·57.

[351] I speak advisedly. As a town, Sheffield, the place here referred to, is larger and more populous than Leeds. In 1821 it contained with its suburbs, but without including either out-hamlets, or the country part of the parish, at least 58,000 inhabitants;--Leeds no more than 48,000.

[352] When the period for which an apprentice is bound (seven years) expires, his “loosing” is held by himself, and shopmates. Then are these steel bells made to jangle all day. At night the loosing is farther celebrated by a supper and booze. The parochial ringers frequently attend festivities with a set of hand-bells, which, in the estimation of their auditors, they make “discourse most eloquent music.”

[353] Asidew. The orthography of this word may be wrong. I never, to my knowledge, saw it written. It is used in Sheffield to express a thin, very thin brass leaf, of a high gold colour.

[354] In my boyish days, one Ludlam kept it. Was it he to whom belonged the dog which gave occasion to this proverbial saying? “As idle as Ludlam’s dog, that lay down to bark?”

[355] Abundant.

[356] Mr. Sharp’s Dissertation, p. 29.

~September 27.~

CHRONOLOGY.

On the 27th of September, 1772, died at Turnhurst, in Staffordshire, James Brindley, a man celebrated for extraordinary mechanical genius and skilful labours in inland navigation. He was born at Tunsted, in the parish of Wormhill, Derbyshire, in 1716, where he contributed to support his parents’ family till he was nearly seventeen years of age, when he bound himself apprentice to a wheelwright named Bennet, near Macclesfield, in Cheshire. In the early period of his apprenticeship, he performed several parts of the business without instruction, and so satisfied the millers, that he was always consulted in preference to his master, and before the expiration of his servitude, when Mr. Bennet, by his age and infirmities, became unable to work, he carried on the business, and provided a comfortable subsistence for the old man and his family.

About this time Bennet was employed in constructing an engine paper-mill, the first of the kind that had been attempted in these parts; but, as he was likely to fail in the execution of it, Mr. Brindley, without communicating his design, set out on Saturday evening after the business of the day was finished, and having inspected the work, returned home on Monday morning, after a journey of fifty miles, informed his master of its defects, and completed the engine to the entire satisfaction of the proprietors. He afterwards engaged in the mill-wright business on his own account. The fame of his inventions in a little while spread far beyond his own neighbourhood. In 1752, he was employed to erect a curious water-engine at Clifton, in Lancashire, for the purpose of draining coal-mines, which had before been performed at an enormous expense. The water for the use of this engine was conveyed from the river Irwell by a subterraneous channel, nearly six hundred yards long, which passed through a rock; and the wheel was fixed thirty feet below the surface of the ground.

In 1755, he constructed a new silk-mill at Congleton, in Cheshire, according to the plan proposed by the proprietors, after the execution of it by the original undertaker had failed; and in the completion of it he added many new and useful improvements. He introduced one contrivance for winding the silk upon the bobbins equally, and not in wreaths; and another for stopping, in an instant, not only the whole of this extensive system, in all its various movements, but any individual part of it at pleasure. He likewise invented machines for cutting the tooth and pinion wheels of the different engines, in a manner that produced a great saving of time, labour, and expense. He also introduced into the mills, used at the potteries in Staffordshire for grinding flintstones, several valuable additions, which greatly facilitated the operation.

In 1756, he constructed a steam-engine at Newcastle-under-Line, upon a new plan. The boiler was made with brick and stone, instead of iron plates, and the water was heated by fire-places, so constructed as to save the consumption of fuel. He also introduced cylinders of wood instead of those of iron, and substituted wood for iron in the chains which worked at the end of the beam. But from these and similar contrivances for the improvement of this useful engine, his attention was diverted by the great national object of “inland navigation.” In planning and executing canals his mechanical genius found ample scope for exercise, and formed a sort of distinguishing era in the history of our country.

Envy and prejudice raised a variety of obstacles to the accomplishment of his designs and undertakings; and if he had not been liberally and powerfully protected by the duke of Bridgwater, his triumph over the opposition with which he encountered must have been considerably obstructed. The duke possessed an estate at Worsley, about seven miles from Manchester, rich in mines of coal, from which he derived little or no advantage, on account of the expense attending the conveyance by land carriage to a suitable market. A canal from Worsley to Manchester, Mr. Brindley declared to be practicable. His grace obtained an act for that purpose; and Brindley was employed in the conduct and execution of this, the first undertaking of the kind ever attempted in England, with navigable subterraneous tunnels and elevated aqueducts. At the commencement of the business it was determined, that the level of the water should be preserved without the usual obstruction of locks, and to carry the canal over rivers and deep vallies. It was not easy to obtain a sufficient supply of water for completing the navigation, but Brindley, furnished with ample resources, persevered, and conquered all the embarrassments, occasioned by the nature of the undertaking, and by the passions and prejudices of individuals. Having completed the canal as far as Barton, where the river Irwell is navigable for large vessels, he proposed to carry it over that river by an aqueduct thirty-nine feet above the surface of the water. This was considered as a chimerical and extravagant project; and an eminent engineer said, “I have often heard of castles in the air, but never before was shown where any of them were to be erected.” The duke of Bridgwater, confiding in the judgment of Brindley, empowered him to prosecute the work; and in about ten months the aqueduct was completed. This astonishing work commenced in September, 1760, and the first boat sailed over it the 17th of July, 1761. The canal was then extended to Manchester, where Mr. Brindley’s ingenuity in diminishing labour by mechanical contrivances, was exhibited in a machine for landing coals upon the top of a hill.

The duke of Bridgwater extended his views to Liverpool; and obtained, in 1762, an act of parliament for branching his canal to the tide-way in the Mersey. This part is carried over the river Mersey and Bollan, and over many wide and deep vallies. Over the vallies it is conducted without a single lock; and across the valley at Stretford, through which the Mersey runs, a mound of earth, raised for preserving the water, extends for nearly a mile. In the execution of every part of the navigation, Mr. Brindley displayed singular skill and ingenuity; and in order to facilitate his purpose, he produced many valuable machines. His economy and forecast are peculiarly discernible in the stops, or flood-gates, fixed in the canal, where it is above the level of the land. They are so constructed, that if any of the banks should give way and occasion a current, the adjoining gates will rise merely by that motion, and prevent any other part of the water from escaping than that which is near the breach between the two gates.

Encouraged by the success of the duke of Bridgwater’s undertakings, a subscription was entered into by a number of gentlemen and manufacturers in Staffordshire, for constructing a canal through that county. In 1766, this canal, “The Grand Trunk Navigation,” was begun; and it was conducted with spirit and success, under the direction of Brindley, as long as he lived.

After this, Brindley constructed a canal from the Grand Trunk, near Haywood, in Staffordshire, to the river Severn near Bewdley, connecting Bristol with Liverpool and Hull. This canal, about forty-six miles in length, was completed in 1772. His next undertaking was a canal from Birmingham, which should unite with the Staffordshire and Worcestershire canal near Wolverhampton. It is twenty six miles in length, and was finished in about three years. To avoid the inconvenience of locks, and for the more effectual supply of the canal with water, he advised a tunnel at Smethwick; his advice was disregarded; and the managers were afterwards under the necessity of erecting two steam engines. He executed the canal from Droitwich to the Severn, for the conveyance of salt and coals; and planned the Coventry navigation, which was for some time under his direction; but a dispute arising, he resigned his office. Some short time before his death, he began the Oxfordshire canal, which, uniting with the Coventry canal, serves as a continuation of the Grand Trunk navigation to Oxford, and thence by the Thames to London.

Mr. Brindley’s last undertaking was the canal from Chesterfield to the river Trent at Stockwith. He surveyed and planned the whole, and executed some miles of the navigation, which was finished five years after his death by his brother-in-law, Mr. Henshall, in 1777. Such was Mr. Brindley’s established reputation, that few works of this kind were undertaken without his advice. They are too numerous to be

## particularized, but it may be added that he gave the corporation of

Liverpool a plan for clearing their docks of mud, which has been practised with success; and proposed a method, which has also succeeded, of building walls against the sea without mortar. The last of his inventions was an improved machine for drawing water out of mines, by a losing and gaining bucket, which he afterwards employed with advantage in raising coals.

When difficulties occurred in the execution of any of Mr. Brindley’s works, he had no recourse to books, or to the labours of other persons. All his resources were in his own inventive mind. He generally retired to bed, and lay there one, two, or three days, till he had devised the expedients which he needed for the accomplishment of his objects; he then got up, and executed his design without any drawing or model, which he never used, except for the satisfaction of his employers. His memory was so tenacious, that he could remember and execute all the parts of the most complex machine, provided he had time, in his previous survey, to settle, in his mind, the several departments, and their relations to each other. In his calculations of the powers of any machine, he performed the requisite operation by a mental process, in a manner which none knew but himself, and which, perhaps, he was not able to communicate to others. After certain intervals of consideration, he noted down the result in figures; and then proceeded to operate upon that result, until at length the complete solution was obtained, which was generally right. His want of literature, indeed, compelled him to cultivate, in an extraordinary degree, the art of memory; and in order to facilitate the revival, in his mind, of those visible objects and their properties, to which his attention was chiefly directed, he secluded himself from the external impressions of other objects, in the solitude of his bed.

Incessant attention to important and interesting objects, precluded Mr. Brindley from any of the ordinary amusements of life, and indeed, prevented his deriving from them any pleasure. He was once prevailed upon by his friends in London to see a play, but he found his ideas so much disturbed, and his mind rendered so unfit for business, as to induce him to declare, that he would not on any account go to another. It is not improbable, however, that by indulging an occasional relaxation, remitting his application, and varying his pursuits, his life might have been prolonged. The multiplicity of his engagements, and the constant attention which he bestowed on them, brought on a hectic fever, which continued, with little or no intermission, for some years, and at last terminated his useful and honourable career, in the 56th year of age. He was buried at New Chapel, in the same county.

Such was the enthusiasm with which this extraordinary man engaged in all schemes of inland navigation, that he seemed to regard all rivers with contempt, when compared with canals. It is said, that in an examination before the house of commons, when he was asked for what purpose he apprehended rivers were created, he replied, after some deliberation, “to feed navigable canals.” Those who knew him well, highly respected him “for the uniform and unshaken integrity of his conduct; for his steady attachment to the interest of the community; for the vast compass of his understanding, which seemed to have a natural affinity with all grand objects; and, likewise, for many noble and beneficial designs, constantly generating in his mind, and which the multiplicity of his engagements, and the shortness of his life, prevented him from bringing to maturity.”[357]

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 55·50.

[357] Rees’s Cyclopædia. Biog. Brit.

~September 28.~

MADAME GENEVA LYING IN STATE.

On the 28th of September, 1736, when the “Gin Act,” which was passed to prevent the retailing of spirituous liquors in small quantities was about to be enforced, it was deemed necessary to send a detachment of sixty soldiers from Kensington to protect the house of sir Joseph Jekyl, the master of the rolls in Chancery-lane, from the violence threatened by the populace against that eminent lawyer for his endeavours in procuring the obnoxious statute.

The keepers of the gin-shops testified their feelings by a parade of mock ceremonies for “_Madame Geneva lying-in-state_,” which created a mob about their shops, and the justices thought proper to commit some of the chief mourners to prison. On this occasion, the signs of the punch-houses were put in mourning; and lest others should express the bitterness of their hearts by committing violences, the horse and foot-guards and trained bands were ordered to be properly stationed. Many of the distillers, instead of spending their time in empty lamentations, betook themselves to other branches of industry. Some to the brewing trade, which raised the price of barley and hops; some took taverns in the universities, which nobody could do before the “Gin Act,” without leave of the vice-chancellor; others set up apothecaries’ shops. The only persons who took out fifty pound licenses were one Gordon, Mr. Ashley of the London punch-house, and one more. Gordon, a punch-seller in the Strand, devised a new punch made of strong Madeira wine, and called _Sangre_.[358]

COUNTY CUSTOMS.

It may be hoped that our readers who live in the apple districts will communicate the usages of their neighbourhoods to the _Every-Day Book_. For the present we must thank “an old correspondent.”

GRIGGLING.

_To the Editor of the Every-Day Book._

Dear Sir,--The more I read of your _Every-Day Book_, the stronger my recollection returns to my boyhood days. There is not a season wherein I felt greater delight than during the gathering in of the orchards’ produce. The cider barrels cleaned and aired from the cellar--the cider-mill ready--the baskets and press, the vats, the horse-hair cloths, and the loft, fitted for the process and completion of making cider--the busy people according to Philips, seek--

The pippin, burnish’d o’er with gold, Of sweetest honey’d taste, the fair permain, Temper’d like comeliest nymph, with white and red.

* * * * *

Let every tree in every garden own, The redstreak as supreme, whose pulpous fruit, With gold irradiate, and vermillion shines. Hail Herefordian plant! that dost disdain All other fields.

The Herefordshire cider is so exquisite, that when the earl of Manchester was ambassador in France, he is said frequently to have passed this beverage on their nobility for a delicious wine.

Leasing in the corn-fields after the sheaves are borne to the garner, is performed by villagers of all ages, that are justly entitled to glean, like ants, the little store against a rainy day. But after the orchard is cleared, (and how delightful a shower--the shaking the Newton instructing apples down,) the village (not chimney-sweepers) climbing boys collect in a possé, and with poles and bags, go into the orchard and commence _griggling_.

The small apples are called _griggles_. These, the farmers leave pretty abundantly on the trees, with an understanding that the urchins will have mercy on the boughs, which, if left entirely bare, would suffer. Suspended like monkeys, the best climbers are the ring-leaders; and less boys pick up and point out where an apple still remains. After the trees are cleared, a loud huzza crowns the exertion; and though a little bickering as to the quality and quantity ensues, they separate with their portion, praising or blaming the owner, proportionate to their success. If he requests it, which is often the case before they depart, the head boy stands before the house, and uncovered, he recites the well-known fable in the “Universal Spelling Book”--“A rude boy _stealing_ apples.”--Then the hostess, or her daughter, brings a large jug of cider and a slice of bread and cheese, or twopence, to the great pleasure of the laughing recipients of such generous bounty.

Down to the present month the custom of _griggling_ is continued with variation in the western hamlets, though innovation, which is the abuse of privilege, has prevented many orchard-owners allowing the boys their _griggling_ perambulations.

With much respect, I am, &c.

P.---- _T.----_

*, *, P.

_September 20, 1826._

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 53·37.

[358] Gentleman’s Magazine.

~September 29.~

ST. MICHAEL.

In the former volume, there are particulars of St. Michael, at col. 500, 629, and 1325. To the latter article, there is a print of this archangel, with six others of his order: on the present page he appears with other characteristics.

[Illustration: ~St Michael.~]

This print from a large engraving on copper, by one of the Caracci family in 1582, after a picture by Lorenzo Sabbatini of Bologna, represents the holy family, and St. John, and St. Michael standing on the devil, and presenting souls to the infant Jesus from a pair of scales. The artist has adopted this mode to convey a notion of the archangel, in quality of his office, as chief of the guardian angels, and judge of the claims of departed spirits. In vol. i. p. 630, there are notices relative to St. Michael in this capacity.

* * * * *

The church of Notre Dame, at Paris, rebuilt by “devout king Robert,” was conspicuously honoured by a statue of the chief of the angelic hierarchy, _with his scales_. “On the top, and pinnacle before the said church,” says Favine, “is yet to be seene the image of the arch-angell _St. Michael_, the tutelaric angell, and guardian of the most christian monarchie of France, ensculptured after the antique forme, holding a _ballance_ in the one hand, and a crosse in the other; on his head, and toppe of his wings, are fixed and cramponned strong pikes of iron to keepe the birds from pearching thereon.”

Favine proceeds to mention a popular error concerning these “pikes of iron,” to defend the statue from the birds. “The ignorant vulgar conceived that this was a crowne of eares of corne, and thought it to be the idole of the goddesse _Ceres_.” He says this is “a matter wherein they are much deceived; for Isis and Ceres being but one and the same, her temple was at S. Ceour and S. Germain des Prez.”[359]

Louis XI. instituted an order in honour of St. Michael, the arch-angel, on occasion of an alleged apparition of the saint on the bridge at Orleans, when that city was besieged by the English in 1428.

ST. GEORGE.

It has been intimated in vol. i., col. 500, that there are grounds to imagine “that St. George and the dragon are neither more nor less than St. Michael contending with the devil.” The reader who desires further light on this head, will derive it from a dissertation by Dr. Pettingall, expressly on the point. It may here, perhaps, be opportune to introduce the usual representation of St. George and the dragon, by an impression from an original wood-block, obligingly presented to this work by Mr. Horace Rodd.

[Illustration: ~St. George and the Dragon.~]

To-morrow morning we shall have you look, For all your great words, like St. George at Kingston, Running a footback from the furious dragon, That with her angrie tail belabours him For being lazie.

_Woman’s Prize._

So say Beaumont and Fletcher, from whence we learn that the prowess of “St. George for England,” was ludicrously travestied.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 55·27.

[359] Theater of Honour, Lond. 1623, fol.

~September 30.~

THE SEASON.

It is noted under the present day in the “Perennial Calendar,” that at this time the heat of the middle of the days is still sufficient to warm the earth, and cause a large ascent of vapour: that the chilling frosty nights, which are also generally very calm, condense into mists; differing from clouds only in remaining on the surface of the ground.

Now by the cool declining year condensed, Descend the copious exhalations, check’d As up the middle sky unseen they stole, And roll the doubling fogs around the hill. .  .  .  .  .  .  Thence expanding far, The huge dusk gradual swallows up the plain Vanish the woods; the dimseen river seems Sullen and slow to roll the misty wave. Even in the height of noon oppressed, the sun Sheds weak and blunt his wide refracted ray; Whence glaring oft, with many a broadened orb, He frights the nations. Indistinct on earth, Seen through the turbid air, beyond the life Objects appear, and wildered o’er the waste, The shepherd stalks gigantic.

“EXTRAORDINARY NEWS!”

_To the Editor of the Every-Day Book._

Sir,--The character and manners of a people may be often correctly ascertained by an attentive examination of their familiar customs and sayings. The investigation of these peculiarities, as they tend to enlarge the knowledge of human nature, and illustrate national history, as well as to mark the fluctuation of language, and to explain the usages of antiquity, is, therefore, deserving of high commendation; and, though occasionally, in the course of those inquiries, some whimsical stories are related, and some very homely phrases and authorities cited, they are the occurrences of every day, and no way seem to disqualify the position in which several amusing and popular customs are brought forward to general view. Under this impression, it will not be derogatory to the _Every-Day Book_, to observe that by such communications, it will become an assemblage of anecdotes, fragments, remarks, and vestiges, collected and recollected:--

------------Various,--that the mind Of desultory man, studious of change, And pleas’d with novelty, may be indulged.

_Cowper._

Should the following extract, from a volume of Miscellaneous Poems, edited by Elijah Fenton, and printed by Bernard Lintot, without date, but anterior to 1720, in octavo, be deemed by you, from the foregoing observations, deserving of notice, it is at your service.

Old Bennet was an eccentric person, at the early part of the last century, who appears to have excited much noise in London.

_On the Death of_ OLD BENNET, _the News Cryer_.

“One evening, when the sun was just gone down, As I was walking thro’ the noisy town, A sudden silence through each street was spread, As if the soul of London had been fled. Much I inquired the cause, but could not hear, } Till fame, so frightened, that she did not dare } To raise her voice, thus whisper’d in my ear: } Bennet, the prince of hawkers, is no more, Bennet, my Herald on the British shore; Bennet, by whom, I own myself outdone, Tho’ I a hundred mouths, he had but one. He, when the list’ning town he would amuse, Made echo tremble with his ‘_bloody news_.’ No more shall Echo, now his voice return, Echo for ever must in silence mourn.-- Lament, ye heroes, who frequent the wars, The great proclaimer of your dreadful scars. Thus wept the conqueror, who the world o’ercame, Homer was wanting to enlarge his fame Homer, the first of hawkers that is known, Great news from Troy, cried up and down the town. None like him has there been for ages past, Till our stentorian Bennet came at last. Homer and Bennet were in this agreed, Homer was blind, and Bennet could not read.”

“Bloody News!” “Great Victory!” or more frequently “Extraordinary Gazette!” were, till recently, the usual loud bellowings of fellows, with stentorian lungs, accompanied by a loud blast of a long tin-horn, which announced to the delighted populace of London, the martial achievements of the modern Marlborough. These itinerants, for the most part, were the link-men at the entrances to the theatres; and costermongers, or porters, assisting in various menial offices during the day. A copy of the “Gazette,” or newspaper they were crying, was generally affixed under the hatband, in front, and their demand for a newspaper generally one shilling.

Those newscriers are spoken of in the past sense, as the further use of the horn is prohibited by the magistracy, subject to a penalty of ten shillings for a first offence, and twenty shillings on the conviction of repeating so heinous a crime. “Oh, dear!” as Crockery says, I think in these times of “modern improvement,” every thing is changing, and in many instances, much for the worse.

I suspect that you, Mr. Editor, possess a fellow-feeling on the subject, and shall no further trespass on your time, or on the reader’s patience, than by expressing a wish that many alterations were actuated by manly and humane intentions, and that less of over-legislation and selfishness were evinced in these pretended endeavours to promote the good of society.

I am, &c.

J. H. B.

* * * * *

The present month can scarcely be better closed than with some exquisite stanzas from the delightful introduction to the “_Forest Minstrel_ and other Poems, by William and Mary Howitt.” Mr. Howitt speaks of his “lightly caroll’d lays,” as--

------ never, surely, otherwise esteem’d Than a bird’s song, that, fill’d with sweet amaze At the bright opening of the young, green spring, Pours out its simple joy in instant warbling.

For never yet was mine the proud intent To give the olden harp a thrilling sound, Like those great spirits who of late have sent Their wizard tones abroad, and all around This wond’rous world have wander’d; and have spent, In court and camp, on bann’d and holy ground, Their gleaning glances; and, in hall and bower, Have learn’d of mortal life the passions and the power:

Eyeing the masters of this busy earth, In all the changes of ambition’s toil, From the first struggles of their glory’s birth, Till robed in power--till wearied with the spoil Of slaughter’d realms, and dealing woe and dearth To miserable men--and then the foil To this great scene, the vengeance, and the frown With which some mightier hand has pull’d those troublers down:

Eyeing the passages of gentler life, And different persons, of far different scenes; The boy, the beau--the damsel, and the wife-- Life’s lowly loves--the loves of kings and queens; Each thing that binds us, and each thing that weans Us from this state, with pains and pleasures rife; The wooings, winnings, weddings, and disdainings Of changeful men, their fondness and their feignings:

And then have brought us home strange sights and sounds From distant lands, of dark and awful deeds; And fair and dreadful spirits; and gay rounds Of mirth and music; and then mourning weeds; And tale of hapless love that sweetly wounds The gentle heart, and its deep fondness feeds; Lapping it up in dreams of sad delight From its own weary thoughts, in visions wild and bright:--

Oh! never yet to me the power or will To match these mighty sorcerers of the soul Was given; but on the bosom, lone and still, Of nature cast, I early wont to stroll Through wood and wild, o’er forest, rock, and hill, Companionless; without a wish or goal, Save to discover every shape and voice Of living thing that there did fearlessly rejoice.

And every day that boyish fancy grew; And every day those lonely scenes became Dearer and dearer, and with objects new, All sweet and peaceful, fed the young spirit’s flame Then rose each silent woodland to the view, A glorious theatre of joy! then came Each sound a burst of music on the air, That sank into the soul to live for ever there!

Oh, days of glory! when the young soul drank Delicious wonderment through every sense! And every tone and tint of beauty sank Into a heart that ask’d not how, or whence Came the dear influence; from the dreary blank Of nothingness sprang forth to an existence Thrilling and wond’rous; to enjoy--enjoy The new and glorious blessing--was its sole employ.

To roam abroad amidst the mists, and dews, And brightness of the early morning sky, When rose and hawthorn leaves wore tenderest hues: To watch the mother linnet’s stedfast eye, Seated upon her nest; or wondering muse On her eggs’s spots, and bright and delicate dye; To peep into the magpie’s thorny hall, Or wren’s green cone in some hoar mossy wall;

To hear of pealing bells the distant charm, As slow I wended down some lonely dale, Past many a bleating flock, and many a farm And solitary hall; and in the vale To meet of eager hinds a hurrying swarm, With staves and terriers hastening to assail Polecat, or badger, in their secret dens, Or otter lurking in the deep and reedy fens

To pass through villages, and catch the hum Forth bursting from some antiquated school, Endow’d long since by some old knight, whose tomb Stood in the church just by; to mark the dool Of light-hair’d lads that inly rued their doom, Prison’d in that old place, that with the tool, Stick-knife or nail, of many a sly offender, Was carved and figured over, wall, and desk, and window;

To meet in green lanes happy infant bands, Full of health’s luxury, sauntering and singing, A childish, wordless melody; with hands Cowslips, and wind-flowers, and green brook-lime bringing; Or weaving caps of rushes; or with wands Guiding their mimic teams; or gaily swinging On some low sweeping bough, and clinging all One to the other fast, till, laughing, down they fall;

To sit down by some solitary man, Hoary with years, and with a sage’s look, In some wild dell where purest waters ran, And see him draw forth his black-letter book, Wond’ring, and wond’ring more, as he began, On it, and then on many an herb to look, That he had wander’d wearily and wide, To pluck from jutting rocks, and woods, and mountain side;

And then, as he would wash his healing roots In the clear stream, that ever went singing on, Through banks o’erhung with herbs and flowery shoots, Leaning as if they loved its gentle tune, To hear him tell of many a plant that suits Fresh wound, or fever’d frame; and of the moon Shedding o’er weed and wort her healing power, For gifted wights to cull in her ascendant hour;

To lie abroad on nature’s lonely breast, Amidst the music of a summer’s sky, Where tall, dark pines the northern bank invest Of a still lake; and see the long pikes lie Basking upon the shallows; with dark crest, And threat’ning pomp, the swan go sailing by; And many a wild fowl on its breast that shone, Flickering like liquid silver, in the joyous sun:

The duck, deep poring with his downward head, Like a buoy floating on the ocean wave; The Spanish goose, like drops of crystal, shed The water o’er him, his rich plumes to lave; The beautiful widgeon, springing upward, spread His clapping wings; the heron, stalking grave, Into the stream; the coot and water-hen Vanish into the flood, then, far off, rise again;

And when warm summer’s holiday was o’er, And the bright acorns patter’d from the trees When fires were made, and closed was every door, And winds were loud, or else a chilling breeze Came comfortless, driving cold fogs before: On dismal, shivering evenings, such as these, To pass by cottage windows, and to see, Round a bright hearth, sweet faces shining happily;

These were the days of boyhood! Oh! such days Shall never, never more return again-- When the fresh heart, all witless of the ways, The sickening, sordid, selfish ways of men, Danced in creation’s pure and placid blaze, Making an Eden of the loneliest glen! Darkness has follow’d fast, and few have been The rays of sunlight cast upon life’s dreary scene.

For years of lonely thought, in morning-tide Of life, will make a spirit all unfit To brook of men the waywardness and pride; Too proud itself to woo, or to submit; Scorning, as vile, what all adore beside, And deeming only glorious the soul lit With the pure flame of knowledge, and the eye Filled with the gentle love of the bright earth and sky.

Fancy’s spoil’d child will ever surely be A thing of nothing in the worldly throng: Wrapp’d up in dreams that they can never see; Listening to fairy harp, or spirit’s song, Where all to them is stillest vacancy: For ever seeking, as he glides along, Some kindred heart, that feels as he has felt, And can read each thought that with him long has dwelt.

But place him midst creation!--let him stand Where wave and mountain revel in his sight, Then shall his soul triumphantly expand, With gathering power, and majesty, and light! The world beneath him is the temple plann’d For him to worship in; and, pure and bright, Heaven’s vault above, the proud eternal dome Of his Almighty Sire, and his own future home!

With such inspiring fancies, mortal pride Shrinks into nothing; and all mortal things He casts, as weeds cast by the ocean tide, From its embraces; the world’s scorn he flings Back on itself, disdaining to divide, With its low cares, that sensitive spirit that brings Home to his breast all nature’s light and glee, Holding with sunshine, clouds, and gales, unearthly revelry.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 54·17.

[Illustration: OCTOBER.]

Then, for “October Month,” they put A rude illuminated cut-- Reaching ripe grapes from off the vine, Or pressing them, or tunning wine; Or, something to denote that there Was vintage at this time of year.

We have “hopes and fears” for the year at all seasons, as we have for ourselves “in infancy” and throughout life. After the joyousness of summer comes the season of foreboding, for “the year has reached its grand climacteric, and is fast falling ‘into the sere, the yellow leaf.’ Every day a flower drops from out the wreath that binds its brow--not to be renewed. Every hour the sun looks more and more askance upon it, and the winds, those summer flatterers, come to it less fawningly. Every breath shakes down showers of its leafy attire, leaving it gradually barer and barer, for the blasts of winter to blow through it. Every morning and evening takes away from it a portion of that light which gives beauty to its life, and chills it more and more into that torpor which at length constitutes its temporary death. And yet October is beautiful still, no less ‘for what it gives than what it takes away;’ and even for what it gives during the very act of taking away.--The whole year cannot produce a sight fraught with more rich and harmonious beauty than that which the woods and groves present during this month, notwithstanding, or rather in consequence of, the daily decay of their summer attire; and at no other season can any given spot of landscape be seen to much advantage as a mere picture.--An extensive plantation of forest trees presents a variety of colours and of tints that would scarcely be considered as _natural_ in a picture, any more than many of the sunsets of September would. Among those trees which retain their green hues, the fir tribe are the principal; and these, spiring up among the deciduous ones, now differ from them no less in colour than they do in form. The alders, too, and the poplars, limes, and horse-chestnuts, are still green,--the hues of their leaves not undergoing much change as long as they remain on the branches. Most of the other forest trees have put on each its peculiar livery; the planes and sycamores presenting every variety of tinge, from bright yellow to brilliant red; the elms being, for the most part, of a rich sunny umber, varying according to the age of the tree and the circumstances of its soil, &c.; the beeches having deepened into a warm glowing brown, which the young ones will retain all the winter, and till the new spring leaves push the present ones off; the oaks varying from a dull dusky green to a deep russet, according to their ages; and the Spanish chestnuts, with their noble embowering heads, glowing like clouds of gold.--As for the hedge-rows, though they have lost nearly all their flowers, the various fruits that are spread out upon them for the winter food of the birds, make them little less gay than they were in spring and summer. The most conspicuous of these are the red hips of the wild rose; the dark purple bunches of the luxuriant blackberry; the brilliant scarlet and green berries of the nightshade; the wintry-looking fruit of the hawthorn; the blue sloes, covered with their soft tempting-looking bloom; the dull bunches of the woodbine; and the sparkling holly-berries.--We may also still, by seeking for them, find a few flowers scattered about beneath the hedge-rows, and the dry banks that skirt the woods, and even in the woods themselves, peeping up meekly from among the crowds of newly fallen leaves. The prettiest of these is the primrose, which now blows a second time. But two or three of the persicaria tribe are still in flower, and also some of the goosefoots. And even the elegant and fragile heathbell, or harebell, has not yet quite disappeared; while some of the ground flowers that have passed away have left in their place strange evidences of their late presence; in particular, the singular flower (if it can be called one) of the arums, or lords and ladies, has changed into an upright bunch, or long cluster, of red berries, starting up from out the ground on a single stiff stem, and looking almost like the flower of a hyacinth.--The open fields during this month, though they are bereaved of much of their actual beauty and variety, present sights that are as agreeable to the eye, and even more stirring to the imagination, than those which have passed away. The husbandman is now ploughing up the arable land, and putting into it the seeds that are to produce the next year’s crops; and there are not, among rural occupations, two more pleasant to look upon than these: the latter, in particular, is one that, while it gives perfect satisfaction to the eye as a mere picture, awakens and fills the imagination with the prospective views which it opens.--It is not till this month that we usually experience the equinoxial gales, those fatal visitations which may now be looked upon as the immediate heralds of the coming on of winter; as in the spring they were the sure signs of its having passed away. Bitter-sweet is it, now, to lie awake at night, and listen wilfully (as if we would not let them escape us) to the fierce howlings of the winds, each accession of which gives new vividness to the vision of some tall ship, illumined by every flash of lightning--illumined, but not rendered _visible_--for there are no eyes within a hundred leagues to look upon it; and crowded with human beings--(not ‘souls’ only, as the sea-phrase is, for then it were pastime--but _bodies_) every one of which sees, in imagination, its own grave a thousand fathom deep beneath the dark waters that roar around, and feels itself beforehand.”[360]

* * * * *

THE WIND.

The wind has a language, I would I could learn! Sometimes ’tis soothing, and sometimes ’tis stern, --Sometimes it comes like a low sweet song, And all things grow calm, as the sound floats along, And the forest is lulled by the dreamy strain, And slumber sinks down on the wandering main, And its crystal arms are folded in rest, And the tall ship sleeps on its heaving breast.

Sometimes when autumn grows yellow and sere, And the sad clouds weep for the dying year, It comes like a wizard, and mutters its spell, --I would that the magical tones I might tell-- And it beckons the leaves with its viewless hand, And they leap from their branches at its command, And follow its footsteps with wheeling feet, Like fairies that dance in the moonlight sweet.

Sometimes it comes in the wintry night, And I hear the flap of its pinions of might, And I see the flash of its withering eye, As it looks from the thunder-cloud sailing on high, And pauses to gather its fearful breath, And lifts up its voice like the angel of death-- And the billows leap up when the summons they hear And the ship flies away, as if winged with fear, And the uncouth creatures that dwell in the deep, Start up at the sound from their floating sleep, And career through the water, like clouds through the night, To share in the tumult their joy and delight, And when the moon rises, the ship is no more, Its joys and its sorrows are vanish’d and o’er, And the fierce storm that slew it has faded away, Like the dark dream that flies from the light of the day.

_The Improvisatrice._

[360] Mirror of the Months.

~October 1.~

LAWLESS COURT.

This is the season of holding a remarkable court, which we are pleasantly introduced to by the relation of a good old writer.[361]

“Ryding from Ralegh towards Rochford, I happened to haue the good companie of a gentleman of this countrey, who, by the way, shewed me a little hill, which he called the Kings Hill; and told me of a strange customarie court, and of long continuance, there yearely kept, the next Wednesday after Michaelmas day in the night, upon the first cock crowing without any kinde of light, saue such as the heavens will affoard: The steward of the court writes onely with coales, and calleth all such as are bound to appeare, with as low a voice as possiblie he may, giuing no notice when he goeth to execute his office. Howsoever, he that gives not answer is deeply amerced; which servile attendance (saith he) was imposed at the first vpon certaine tenants of divers mannors hereabouts, for conspiring in this place, at such an vnseasonable time, to raise a commotion. The title of the entrie of the court hee had in memory, and writ it downe for me when we came to Rochford.” Fuller speaks of its running “in obscure barbarous rimes,” which he inserts nearly in the words of the legal authorities who give the following account:--

“~Lawless Court.~ On _Kingshill_ at _Rochford_ in _Essex_, on Wednesday morning next, after _Michaelmas_ day, at _Cocks-crowing_, Is held a Court, vulgarly called ‘_The Lawless Court_.’ They whisper and have no Candle, nor any Pen and Ink but a Coal; and he that ows Suit or Service, and appears not, forfeits double his rent every hour he is missing. This Court belongs to the Honor of _Ralegh_, and to the Earl of _Warwick_; and is called ‘_Lawless_,’ because held at an unlawful or lawless hour, or _Quia dicta sine lege_. The Title of it in the Court Rolls, runs thus,--

Kingshi _in_ } ss. =C=_Vria de Domino Rege,_ Rochford. } _Dicta sine Lege._ _Tenta est ibidem Per ejusdem consuetudinem, Ante ortum solis, Luceat nisi polus, Senescallus solus Nil scribit nisi colis, Toties voluerit, Gallus ut cantaverit, Per cujus soli sonitus, Curia est summonita, Clamat clam pro Rege, In Curia sine Lege, Et nisi cito venerint, Citiùs pænituerint, Et nisi clam accedant, Curia non attendat, Qui venerit cum lumine, Errat in regimine: Et dum sunt sine lumine, Capti sunt in crimine: Curia sine cura, Jurati de injuria,_

_Tenta ibidem die Mercurii (ante Diem) proximi post Festum Sancti_ Michaelis Arch-angeli, _Anno regni Regis,” &c._

This Court is mentioned in _Cam. Britan_, though imperfectly; who says this servile attendance was imposed on the Tenants, for conspiring at the like unseasonable time to raise a Commotion.[362]

ORDER OF FOOLS.

We are already acquainted with so many whimsies of our forefathers, that any thing related of their doings ceases to surprise; we might otherwise be astonished by the fact, that Folly had an order of merit, and held its great court every year on the first Sunday after Michaelmas-day.

An inquiring antiquary gives some particulars of this institution, with a translation of the document for its foundation, which is preserved in Von Buggenhagen’s “Account of the Roman and National Antiquities” discovered at Cleves. He relates of it as follows:--

To this document are affixed thirty-six seals, all imprinted on green wax, with the exception of that of the founder, which is on red wax, and in the centre of the rest; having on its right the seal of the count de Meurs, and on its left that of Diedrich van Eyl. The insignium borne by the knights of this order on the left side of their mantles consisted of a fool embroidered in a red and silver vest, with a cap on his head, intersected harlequin-wise with red and yellow divisions, and gold bells attached, with yellow stockings and black shoes; in his right hand was a cup filled with fruits, and in his left a gold key, symbolic of the affection subsisting between the different members.

It is uncertain when this order ceased, although it appears to have been in existence at the commencement of the sixteenth century, when, however, its pristine spirit had become totally extinct. The latest mention that has hitherto been found of it occurs in some verses prefixed by Onofrius Brand to the German translation of his father Sebastian Brand’s celebrated “_Navis Stultifera Mortalium_,” by the learned Dr. Geiler von Kaisersberg, which was published at Strasburg in the year 1520.

Two-fold was the purpose of the noble founders of this order; to relieve the wants and alleviate the miseries of their suffering fellow-creatures; and to banish ennui during the numerous festivals observed in those ages, when the unceasing routine of disports and recreations, which modern refinement has invented in the present, were unknown. During the period of its meeting, which took place annually, and lasted seven days, all distinctions of rank were laid aside, and the most cordial equality reigned throughout. Each had his particular part allotted to him on those occasions, and those who supported their characters in the ablest manner, contributed most to the conviviality and gaiety of the meeting. Indeed we cannot but be strongly prepossessed in its favour, when we recur to the excellent regulations which accompanied its institution, and were admirably calculated to preserve it, at least for a great length of time, from degenerating into absurdity and extravagance.

We must not confound this laudable establishment with the vulgar and absurd practices which, till of late years, existed in many places under the names of feasts of fools and of the ass, &c. These were only national festivals, intended for the occasional diversion, or, as in those days they were termed, rites to promote the pious edification of the lower classes, which, “not unfrequently introduced by a superstition of the lowest and most illiberal species,” soon became objects of depravity and unbridled licentiousness. Of a totally different nature also, and analagous only in quaintness of appellation, were the societies established by men of letters in various parts of Italy, such as the society of the “Insensáte,” at Perugia, of the “Stravaganti,” at Pisa, and the “Eteróclyti,” at Pesaro. Nor can I allow myself to pass over in silence on the present occasion the order or society of Fools, otherwise denominated “Respublica Binepsis,” which was founded towards the middle of the fourteenth century by some Polish noblemen, and took its name from the estate of one Psomka, the principal instigator, near Leublin. Its form was modelled after that of the constitution of Poland; like this, too, it had its king, its council, its chamberlain, its master of the hunt, and various other offices. Whoever made himself ridiculous by any singular and foolish propensity, on him was conferred an appointment befitting it. Thus he, who carried his partiality to the canine species to a ridiculous extreme, was created master of the hunt; whilst another, who constantly boasted of his valorous achievements, was raised to the dignity of field marshal. No one dared to refuse the acceptance of such a vocation, unless he wished to become a still greater object of ridicule and animadversion than before. This order soon experienced so rapid an increase of numbers that there were few at court who were not members of it. At the same time it was expressly forbidden that any lampooner should be introduced amongst them. The avowed object of this institution was to prevent the rising generation from the adoption of bad habits and licentious manners; and ridiculous as was its outward form, is not its design at least entitled to our esteem and veneration?

_Patent of Creation of the Order of Fools._

“We all, who have hereunto affixed our seals, make known unto all men, and declare, that after full and mature consideration, both on our own behalf and on account of the singular goodwill and friendship which we all bear, and will continue to bear towards one another, we have instituted a society of fools, according to the form and manner hereunto subjoined:--

“Be it therefore known, that each member shall wear a fool, either made of silver, or embroidered, on his coat. And such member as shall not daily wear this fool, him shall and may any one of us, as often as he shall see it, punish with a mulct of three old great tournois, (livres tournois, about four-pence halfpenny,) which three tournois shall be appropriated to the relief of the poor in the Lord!

“Further, will we fools yearly meet, and hold a conventicle and court, and assemble ourselves, to wit at Cleves, every year on the Sunday after Michaelmas-day; and no one of us shall depart out of the city, nor mount his horse to quit the place where we may be met together, without previous notice, and his having defrayed that part of the expenses of the court which he is bound to bear. And none of us shall remain away on any pretence or for any other reason whatsoever than this, namely, that he is labouring under very great infirmity; excepting moreover those only who may be in a foreign country, and at six days’ journey from their customary place of residence. If it should happen that any one of the society is at enmity with another, then must the whole society use their utmost endeavours to adjust their differences and reconcile them; and such members and all their abettors shall be excluded from appearing at the court on the Friday morning when it commences its sitting at sun-rise, until it breaks up on the same Friday at sun-set.

“And, we will further, at the royal court yearly elect one of the members to be king of our society, and six to be counsellors; which king with his six counsellors shall regulate and settle all the concerns of the society, and in particular appoint and fix the court of the ensuing year; they shall also procure, and cause to be procured, all things necessary for the said court, of which they shall keep an exact account. These expenses shall be alike both to knights and squires, and a third

## part more shall fall upon the lords than upon the knights and squires;

but the counts shall be subject to a third part more than the lords.

“And early on the Tuesday morning (during the period of the court’s sitting) all of us members shall go to the church of the Holy Virgin at Cleves, to pray for the repose of all those of the society who may have died; and there shall each bring his separate offering.

“And each of us has mutually pledged his good faith, and solemnly engaged to fulfil faithfully, undeviatingly, and inviolably, all things which are above enumerated, &c.

“Done at Cleves, 1381, on the day of St. Cunibert.”

H. W. S.[363]

STAGE ACCIDENT.

On the evening of Friday the 1st of October, 1736, during the performance of an entertainment called _Dr. Faustus_, at Covent-garden theatre, one James Todd who represented the miller’s man, fell from the upper stage, in a flying machine, by the breaking of the wires. He fractured his scull, and died miserably; three others were much hurt, but recovered. Some of the audience swooned, and the whole were in great confusion upon this sad accident.[364]

MOUNTEBANKS AND MR. MERRIMAN.

_For the Every-Day Book._

Little inferior to Mr. Punch, Mr. Merriman has stood eminently high at fairs, figured in market-places, and scarcely a village green in England, that has not felt the force of his irresistible appeals. He does not often approach the over-grown metropolis; his success here is less certain, and the few patrons that remain, love to feast their eyes and risible faculties without sparing a modicum from their pockets: the droll simpleton might crack his jokes without finding the kernel--cash.

A company of mountebanks, however, appeared on a green, north of White Conduit-house, several evenings last week. On Saturday the performance commenced at five o’clock in the afternoon. The performers consisted of the master, a short, middle aged person, with a florid complexion, dressed in decent half mourning. He possessed a sound pair of lungs, fair eloquence, and a good portion of colloquial ability. By the assistance of a little whip he kept in order a large ring, formed of boys, girls, and grown persons of both sexes. His eye, gray as a falcon’s, watched the reception he received, and seemed to communicate with his “_mind’s_ eye,” as to his subscribers. The rosy-faced maid servants, glad of the opportunity of gazing at the exhibitors, were rejoiced by the pretence of holding the “nursery treasures” to see all that could be seen. Here the calculator looked for patronage and encouragement. “Mr. Merriman,” a young man with his face and clothes duly coloured, _à la Grimaldi_, raised laughter by his quaint retorts, by attempts at tumbling to prove he could tumble well, and by drilling with a bugle-horn a dozen volunteer boys in many whimsical exercises, truly marvellous to simpering misses and their companions. The next performer was a short man with sharp features, sunburnt face, and shrill goat-like voice:--he tumbled in a clever, but, I think, dangerous manner. Then Mr. Merriman’s “imitations” followed; not to say any thing of those inimitable imitators, Mathews, Reeve, and Yates, he suited his audience to the very echo of the surrounding skeletons in brick and mortar. The tumbler then reposed by putting a loose coat over his party-coloured habit, and playing a pandean-pipe while “Mr. Merriman” sat on a piece of carpet spread on the ground, and tossed four gilt balls in the air at the same time, to the variations of the music. A drum was beat by a woman about forty, with a tiara on her head, who afterwards left the beating art and mounting the slack-wire, which was supported by three sticks, coned at each end to a triangle; she danced and vaulted _à la Gouffe_. A table was put on the wire, which she balanced, and bore a glass full of liquor on the rim as she twirled it on her finger. This was the acmè of the display. Tickets at one shilling each were now handed round with earnestness and much promise, for a lottery of prizes, consisting of teapots, waiters, printed calico, and two sovereigns thrown on the grass instead of a sheep. These temptations held out to many a Saturday night labourer the hope of increasing his week’s wages. The “conductor” of his company no doubt profited by the experience of which he was possessed. Many tickets were sold; expectation breathed--fancy pictured a teapot--or some token of fortune’s performance. The decision made, the die cast, now the laughing winner walked hurriedly away, hugging his prize, while the losers hid their chagrin, and were quietly dispersed by the “blank” influence, with secret wishes that their money was in their pockets again.

When I reflect upon this kind of amusement for the labouring classes, I see nothing to prevent its occasional appearance. The wit scattered about, though in a blundering way, is often smart.

In spite of decorum, of my better instruction in gentility, and Chesterfield’s axioms, I love to stand and shake my human system, if it be only to remind me of past observation, and to see the children so happy, who ring out music, in every responsive applause of the tricks so plausibly represented to their view. While “Mr. Merriman” does not invade the peace of society, I hope he will be allowed his precarious reign, as he promised “that he would forfeit fifty guineas if he came into the parish again at least for a twelvemonth.”

It is within my remembrance when former mountebanks distributed packets instead of blanks, containing nostrums against toothache, corns, bunions, warts, witchcraft and the ague. Doctor Bolus strutted and fretted his hour upon the stage, and gave as much wit for sixpence as kept the village alehouse in a roar for many weeks. But, I suppose, the mountebank profession, like every other, feels the changes of the times, and retrenchment cries,--

“Ubi vos requiram, cum dies advenerit?”

*, *, P.

_September 29, 1826._

Please to make the following correction, page 1270; for “_he_ shaking,” read “_the_ shaking.”

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 52·85.

[361] Fuller.

[362] Cowel. Blount.

[363] From Dr. Aikin’s Athenæum.

[364] Gentleman’s Magazine.

~October 2.~

EXTRAORDINARY WALKING.

October 2, 1751, a man, for a wager of twenty guineas, walked from Shoreditch church, to the twenty mile stone near Ware, and back again, in seven hours![365]

EXTRAORDINARY RIDING.

In October, 1754, lord Powerscourt having laid a wager with the duke of Orleans, that he would ride on his own horses from Fountainbleau to Paris, which is forty-two English miles, in two hours, for one thousand louis d’ors, the king’s guards cleared the way, which was lined with crowds of Parisians. He was to mount only three horses, but he performed the task on two, in one hour, thirty-seven minutes, and twenty-two seconds. The horses through whom the wager was won, were both killed by the severity of the feat.[366]

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 53·75.

[365] Gentleman’s Magazine.

[366] Ibid.

~October 3.~

EXTRAORDINARY HORSE.

On the 3d of October, 1737, a cart-gelding belonging to Mr. Richard Fendall, of the Grange, Southwark, died by an accidental cut in his knee with a garden-mellon bell-glass; which is taken notice of, because this gelding was forty-four years in his possession. It was bought Michaelmas, 1693, at Uxbridge, was never sick nor lame all the time, and within the fifteen years preceding, drew his owner and another in a chaise, fifty miles in one day.[367]

BIRDS AND MISTS.

It is observed that--“Among the miscellaneous events of October, one of the most striking and curious is the interchange which seems to take place between our country, and the more northern as well as the more southern ones, in regard to the birds. The swallow tribe now all quit us: the swift disappeared wholly, more than a month ago; and now the house swallow, house martin, and bank or sand martin, after congregating for awhile in vast flocks about the banks of rivers and other waters, are seen no more as general frequenters of the air. If one or two are seen during the warm days that sometimes occur for the next two or three weeks, they are to be looked upon as strangers and wanderers; and the sight of them, which has hitherto been so pleasant, becomes altogether different in its effect: it gives one a feeling of desolateness, such as we experience on meeting a poor shivering lascar in our winter streets.--In exchange for this tribe of truly summer visiters, we have now great flocks of the fieldfares and redwings come back to us; and also wood pigeons, snipes, woodcocks, and several of the numerous tribe of water-fowl.

“Now, occasionally, we may observe the singular effects of a mist, coming gradually on, and wrapping in its dusky cloak a whole landscape that was, the moment before, clear and bright as in a spring morning. The vapour rises visibly (from the face of a distant river perhaps) like steam from a boiling caldron; and climbing up into the blue air as it advances, rolls wreath over wreath till it reaches the spot on which you are standing; and then, seeming to hurry past you, its edges, which have hitherto been distinctly defined, become no longer visible, and the whole scene of beauty, which a few moments before surrounded you, is as it were wrapt from your sight like an unreal vision of the air, and you seem (and in fact are) transferred into the bosom of a cloud.”[368]

SWALLOWS.

A provincial paper[369] says, “It is a fact, which has not been satisfactorily accounted for by ornithologists, that the number of swallows which visit this island are not near so numerous as they formerly were; and this is the case, not only in this neighbourhood, but throughout the country. The little that is satisfactorily known concerning the parts to which they emigrate, and the many statements respecting their annual migration, not only serves to show that something remains to be discovered respecting these interesting visiters, but perhaps prevents us from ascertaining the causes of the decrease in their numbers. In the month of September, 1815, great numbers of these birds congregated near Rotherham, previous to their departure for a more genial climate. Their appearance was very extraordinary, and attracted much attention. We extract some account of this vast assemblage of the feathered race, from an elegantly written little work, published on the occasion, by the rev. Thomas Blackley, vicar of Rotherham, containing ‘Observations and Reflections’ on this circumstance:--

“‘Early in the month of September, 1815, that beautiful and social tribe of the feathered race began to assemble in the neighbourhood of Rotherham, at the Willow-ground, near the Glass-house, preparatory to their migration to a a warmer climate; and their numbers were daily augmented, until they became a vast flock which no man could easily number--thousands upon thousands, tens of thousands, and myriads--so great, indeed, that the spectator would almost have concluded that the whole of the swallow race were there collected in one huge host. It was their manner, while there, to rise from the willows in the morning, a little before six o’clock, when their thick columns literally darkened the sky. Their divisions were formed into four, five, and sometimes six grand wings, each of these filing off and taking a different route--one east, another west, another south, and so on; as if not only to be equally dispersed throughout the country, to provide food for their numerous troops; but also to collect with them whatever of their fellows, or straggling parties, might be still left behind. Just before the respective columns arose, a few birds might be observed first in motion at different points, darting through their massy ranks--these appeared like officers giving the word of command. In the evening, about five o’clock, they began to return to their station, and continued coming in, from all quarters, until nearly dark. It was here that you might see them go through their various aerial evolutions, in many a sportive ring and airy gambol--strengthening their pinions in these playful feats for their long etherial journey; while contentment and cheerfulness reigned in every breast, and was expressed in their evening song by a thousand pleasing twitters from their little throats, as they cut the air and frolicked in the last beams of the setting sun, or lightly skimmed the surface of the glassy pool. The notes of those that had already gained the willows sounded like the murmur of a distant waterfall, or the dying roar of the retreating billow on the sea beach.

“‘The verdant enamel of summer had already given place to the warm and mellow tints of autumn, and the leaves were now fast falling from their branches, while the naked tops of many of the trees appeared--the golden sheaves were safely lodged in the barns, and the reapers had, for this year, shouted their harvest home--frosty and misty mornings now succeeded, the certain presages of the approach of winter. These omens were understood by the swallows as the route for their march; accordingly, on the morning of the 7th of October, their mighty army broke up their encampment debouched from their retreat, and, rising, covered the heavens with their legions; thence, directed by an unerring guide, they took their trackless way. On the morning of their going, when they ascended from their temporary abode, they did not, as they had been wont to do, divide into different columns, and take each a different route, but went off in one vast body, bearing to the south. It is said that they would have gone sooner, but for a contrary wind which had some time prevailed; that on the day before they took their departure, the wind got round, and the favourable breeze was immediately embraced by them. On the day of their flight, they left behind them about a hundred of their companions; whether they were slumberers in the camp, and so had missed the going of their troops, or whether they were left as the rear-guard, it is not easy to ascertain; they remained, however, till the next morning, when the greater part of them mounted on their pinions, to follow, as it should seem, the celestial route of their departed legions. After these a few stragglers only remained; these might be too sick or too young to attempt so great an expedition; whether this was the fact or not, they did not remain after the next day. If they did not follow their army, yet the dreary appearance of their depopulated camp and their affection for their kindred, might influence them to attempt it, or to explore a warmer and safer retreat.’”

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 50·00.

[367] Gentleman’s Magazine.

[368] Mirror of the Months.

[369] Sheffield Mercury.

~October 4.~

CHRONOLOGY.

On the 4th of October, 1749,[370] died at Paris, John Baptist Du Halde, a jesuit, who was secretary to father Le Tellier, confessor to Louis XIV. Du Halde is celebrated for having compiled an elaborate history and geography of China from the accounts of the Romish missionaries in that empire; he was likewise editor of the “Lettres edifiantes et curieuses,” from the ninth to the twenty-sixth collection, and the author of several Latin poems and miscellaneous pieces. He was born in the city wherein he died, in 1674, remarkable for piety, mildness, and patient industry.[371]

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 54·92.

[370] Gentleman’s Magazine.

[371] A General Biographical Dictionary, (Hunt and Clarke,) vol. ii.

~October 5.~

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 55·12.

~October 6.~

ST. FAITH.

Of this saint in the church of England calendar, there is an account in vol. i. col. 1362.

SOMNAMBULISM.

On Sunday evening, the 6th of October, 1823, a lad named George Davis, sixteen and a half years of age, in the service of Mr. Hewson, butcher, of Bridge-road, Lambeth, at about twenty minutes after nine o’clock, bent forward in his chair, and rested his forehead on his hands. In ten minutes he started up, fetched his whip, put on his one spur, and went thence to the stable; not finding his own saddle in the proper place, he returned to the house, and asked for it. Being asked what he wanted with it, he replied, to go his rounds. He returned to the stable, got on the horse without the saddle, and was proceeding to leave the stable; it was with much difficulty and force that Mr. Hewson junior, assisted by the other lad, could remove him from the horse; his strength was great, and it was with difficulty he was brought in doors. Mr. Hewson senior, coming home at this time, sent for Mr. Benjamin Ridge, an eminent practitioner, in Bridge-road, who stood by him for a quarter of an hour, during which time the lad considered himself stopped at the turnpike gate, and took sixpence out of his pocket to be changed; and holding out his hand for the change, the sixpence was returned to him. He immediately observed, “None of your nonsense--that is the sixpence again, give me my change.” When threepence halfpenny was given to him, he counted it over, and said, “None of your gammon; that is not right, I want a penny more;” making the fourpence halfpenny, which was his proper change. He then said, “give me my _castor_,” (meaning his hat,) which slang terms he had been in the habit of using, and then began to whip and spur to get his horse on; his pulse at this time was one hundred and thirty-six, full and hard; no change of countenance could be observed, nor any spasmodic affection of the muscles, the eyes remaining close the whole of the time. His coat was taken off his arm, his shirt sleeve stripped up, and Mr. Ridge bled him to thirty-two ounces; no alteration had taken place in him during the first part of the time the blood was flowing; at about twenty-four ounces, the pulse began to decrease; and when the full quantity named above had been taken, it was at eighty, with a slight perspiration on the forehead. During the time of bleeding Mr. Hewson related the circumstance of a Mr. Harris, optician in Holborn, whose son some years before walked out on the parapet of the house in his sleep. The boy joined the conversation, and observed he lived at the corner of Brownlow-street. After the arm was tied up, he unlaced one boot, and said he would go to bed. In three minutes from this time he awoke, got up, and asked what was the matter, (having then been one hour in the trance,) not having the slightest recollection of any thing that had passed, and wondered at his arm being tied up, and at the blood, &c. A strong aperient medicine was then administered, he went to bed, slept sound, and the next day appeared perfectly well, excepting debility from the bleeding and operation of the medicine, and had no recollection whatever of what had taken place. None of his family or himself were ever affected in this way before.[372]

REMARKABLE STORM.

The following remarkable letter in the “Gentleman’s Magazine,” relates to the present day seventy years ago.

Mr. URBAN,

_Wigton, Oct. 23, 1756_.

On the 6th inst. at night, happened a most violent hurricane; such a one perhaps as has not happened in these parts, in the memory of man. It lasted full 4 hours from about 11 till 3. The damage it has done over the whole county is very deplorable. The corn has suffered prodigiously.--Houses were not only unroofed, but in several places overturned by its fury.--Stacks of hay and corn were entirely swept away.--Trees without number torn up by the roots. Others, snapt off in the middle, and scattered in fragments over the neighbouring fields. Some were twisted almost round; bent, or split to the roots, and left in so shattered a condition as cannot be described.

The change in the herbage was also very surprising; its leaves _withered shrivelled_ up, and _turned black_. The leaves upon the trees, especially on the weather side, fared in the same manner. The _Evergreens_ alone seem to have escaped, and the grass recovered in a day or two.

I agreed, at first, with the general opinion, that this mischief was the effect of _Lightning_; but, when I recollected that, in some places, very little had been taken notice of; in others none at all; and that the effect was _general_, I begun to think of accounting for it from some other cause. I immediately examined the dew or rain which had been left on the grass, windows, &c. in hopes of being enabled, by _its taste_, to form some better judgment of the particles with which the air had been impregnated, and I found it as salt as any sea water I had ever tasted. The several vegetables also were all saltish more or less, and continued so for 5 or 6 days, the saline particles not being then washed off; and when the moisture was exhaled from the windows, the saline chrystal _sparkled_ on the outside, when the sun shined, and appeared very _brilliant_.

This _salt water_, I conceive, has done the principal damage, for I find upon experiment, that common salt dissolved in fresh water affected some fresh vegetables, when sprinkled upon them, in the very _same manner_, except that it did not turn them quite so black,--but particles of a sulphurous, or other quality,[373] may have been mixed with it.

I should be glad to see the opinions of some of your ingenious correspondents on this wonderful phenomenon;--whether they think this salt water was brought from the sea,[374] and in _what manner_.

_Yours_,

A. B.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 54·55.

[372] The Times, October, 1823.

[373] In an adjoining bleach-yard, some cloth which had lain out all night was turned almost yellow.--Other pieces also which were spread out the next morning, contracted the same colour, which was not without great difficulty washed out.

[374] The wind was westerly, and consequently in its passage swept the Irish sea.

~October 7.~

CONJUGAL INDIFFERENCE.

On the 7 of of October, 1736, a man and his wife, at Rushal, in Norfolk, “having some words,” the man went out and hanged himself. The coroner’s inquest found it “self-murder,” and ordered him to be buried in the cross-ways; but his wife sent for a surgeon, and sold the body for half a guinea. The surgeon feeling about the body, the wife said, “He is fit for your purpose, he is as fat as butter.” The deceased was thereupon put into a sack with his legs hanging out, and being thrown upon a cart, conveyed to the surgeon’s.[375]

OLD TIMES AND NEW TIMES.

In a journal of 1826,[376] we have the following pleasant account of a similar publication ninety years ago.

A curious document, for we may well term it so, has come to our hands--a copy of a London newspaper, dated Thursday, March 24, 1736-7. Its title is, “The Old Whig, or the Consistent Protestant.” It seems to have been a weekly paper, and, at the above date, to have been in existence for about two years. How long it lived after, we have not, at present, any means of ascertaining. The paper is similar in size to the French journals of the present day, and consists of four pages and three columns in each. The show of advertisements is very fair. They fill the whole of the back page, and nearly a column of the third. They are all book advertisements. One of these is a comedy called “The Universal Passion,” by the author of “The Man of Taste,” no doubt, at that time, an amply sufficient description of the ingenious playwright. The “Old Whig” was published by “J. Roberts, at the Oxford Arms, in Warwick-lane,” as likewise by “H. Whitridge, bookseller, the corner of Castle-alley, near the Royal-exchange, in Cornhill, price two-pence!” It has a leading article in its way, in the shape of a discourse on the liberty of the press, which it lustily defends, from what, we believe, it was as little exposed to, in 1786-7, as it is in 1826--a censorship. The editor apologises for omitting _the news_ in his last, on account of “Mr. Foster’s reply to Dr. Stebbing!” What would be said of a similar excuse now-a-days?

The following epigram is somewhat hacknied, but there is a pleasure in extracting it from the print, where it probably first appeared:--

“As we were obliged to omit the News in last week’s paper, by inserting Mr. Foster’s answer to the Rev. Dr. Stebbing, we shall in this give the few articles that are any way material.”

“Cries Celia to a reverend dean, What reason can be given, Since marriage is a holy thing, That there is none in Heaven?”

“There are no Women,” he replied; She quick returns the jest; “Women there are, but I’m afraid, They cannot find a priest!”

The miscellaneous part is of nearly the same character as at present, but disposed in rather a less regular form. We have houses on fire, and people burnt in them, exactly as _we_ had last week; but what is wonderful, as it shows the great improvement in these worthy gentlemen in the course of a century, the “Old Whig” adds to its account--“The watch, it seems, though at a small distance, knew nothing of the matter!”

There is a considerable number of deaths, for people died even in those good old times, and one drowning; whether intentional or not we cannot inform our readers, as the “Old Whig” went to press before the inquest was holden before Mr. Coroner and a most respectable jury.

We still tipple a little after dinner, but our fathers were prudent men; they took time by the forelock, and began their convivialities with their _dejeune_. The following is a short notice of the exploits of a few of these true men. It is with a deep feeling of the transitory nature of all sublunary things, that we introduce this notice, by announcing to our readers at a distance, that the merry Boar’s Head is merry no more, and that he who goes thither in the hope of quaffing port, where plump Jack quaffed sack and sugar, will return disappointed. The sign remains, but the _hostel_ is gone.

“On Saturday last, the right hon. the Lord Mayor held a wardmote at St. Mary Abchurch, for the election of a common councilman, in the room of Mr. Deputy Davis. His lordship went sooner than was expected by Mr. Clay’s friends, and arriving at the church, ordered proclamation to be made, when Mr. Edward Yeates was put up by every person present; then the question being asked, whether any other was offered to the ward, and there being no person named, his lordship declared Mr. Yeates duly elected, and ordered him to be sworn in, which was accordingly done; and just at the words ‘So help you God,’ Mr. Clay’s friends (who were numerous, and had been at breakfast at the Boar’s Head Tavern, in Eastcheap) came into the church, but it was too late, for the election was over. This has created a great deal of mirth in the ward, which is likely to continue for some time. The Boar’s Head is said to be the tavern so often mentioned by Shakspeare, in his play of _Henry the Fourth_, which occasioned a gentleman, who heard the circumstances of the election, to repeat the following lines from that play:--

“‘_Falst._ Now Hall, what a time of day is it, lad?’

“‘_P. Hen._----What a devil has thou to do with the time of the day? unless hours were cups of sack, and minutes capons,’” &c.

The above account gives a specimen of the sobriety of our fathers; another of their virtues is exemplified in the following:--

“By a letter from Penzance, in Cornwall, we have the following account, viz.:--‘That on the 12th instant at night, was lost near Portlevan (and all the men drowned, _as is supposed_), the queen Caroline, of Topsham, Thomas Wills, master, from Oporto, there being some pieces of letters found on the sands, directed for Edward Mann, of Exon, one for James La Roche, Esq. of Bristol, and another for Robert Smyth, Esq. and Company, Bristol. Some casks of wine came on shore, which were immediately secured by the country people; but on a composition with the collector, to pay them eight guineas for each pipe they brought on shore, they delivered to him twenty-five pipes; and he paid so many times eight guineas, else they would have staved them, or carried them off.’”

The order maintained in England at that time was nothing compared to the strictness of discipline observed on the continent.

“They write from Rome, that count Trevelii, a Neapolitan, had been beheaded there, for being the author of some satirical writings against the Pope: that Father Jacobini, who was sentenced to be beheaded on the same account, had obtained the _favour_ of being sent to the gallies, through the intercession of cardinal Guadagni, the pope’s nephew, who was most maltreated by the priest and the count.”

These were times, as Dame Quickly would say, when honourable men were not to be insulted with impunity.

We sometimes hear of a terrible species of _mammalia_, called West India Planters, and there is an individual specimen named Hogan, or something like it, whose wonderful fierceness has been sounded in our ears for some ten or twelve years. But what will the abolitionists say to the extract of a letter from Antigua? Compared with these dreadful doings, Mr. Hogan’s delinquencies were mere fleabites.

“Extract of a letter from Antigua, January 15, 1736-7:--‘We are in a great deal of trouble in this island, the burning of negroes, hanging them on gibbets alive, racking them on the wheel, &c. takes up almost all our time; that from the 20th of October to this day, there has been destroyed sixty-five sensible negro men, most of them tradesmen, as carpenters, masons, and coopers. I am almost dead with watching and warding, as are many more. They were going to destroy all the white inhabitants on the island. Court, the king of the negroes, who was to head the insurrection; Tomboy, their general, and Hercules their lieutenant-general, were all racked upon the wheel, and died with amazing obstinacy. Mr. Archibald Hamilton’s Harry, after he was condemned, stuck himself with a knife in eighteen places, four whereof were mortal, which killed him. Colonel Martin’s Jemmy, who was hung up alive from noon to eleven at night, was then taken down to give information. Colonel Morgan’s Ned, who, after he had been hung up seven days and seven nights, that his hands grew too small for his hand-cuffs, he got them out and raised himself up, and fell down from a gibbet fifteen feet high, without any harm; he was revived with cordials and broth, in hopes to bring him to a confession, but he would not confess, and was hung up again, and in a day and night after expired. Mr. Yeoman’s Quashy Coomah jumped out of the fire half burnt, but was thrown in again. And Mr. Lyon’s Tim jumped out of the fire, and promised to declare all, but it took no effect. In short, our island is in a poor, miserable condition, that I wish I could get any sort of employ in England.’”

The following notice is of a more pleasing character:--

“In a few days, a fine monument to the memory of John Gay, Esq., author of the _Beggar’s Opera_, and several other admired pieces, will be erected in Westminster-abbey, at the expense of his grace the duke of Queensberry and Dover, with an elegant inscription thereon, composed by the deceased’s intimate and affectionate friend, Mr. Alexander Pope.”

There are two more observations which we have to make; 1st. “the Old Whig,” as was meet, was a strong Orangeman; and 2d. the parliament was sitting when the number before us was published, and yet it does not contain one line of debate!

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 53·77.

[375] Gentleman’s Magazine.

[376] New Times, September 7.

~October 8.~

ANCIENT MANNERS.

Elias Ashmole, the antiquary, enters thus in the diary of his life:--“1657, October 8. The cause between me and my wife was heard, when Mr. Serjeant Maynard observed to the court, that there were 800 sheets of depositions on my wife’s part, and not one word proved against me of using her ill, nor ever giving her a bad or provoking word.” The decision was against the lady; the court, refusing her alimony, delivered her to her husband; “whereupon,” says Ashmole, “I carried her to Mr. Lilly’s, and there took lodgings for us both.” He and Lilly dabbled in astrology; and he tells no more of his spouse till he enters “1668, April 1. 2 Hor. _ante merid._ the lady Mainwaring my wife _died_.” Subsequently he writes--“November 3. I married Mrs. Elizabeth Dugdale, daughter to William Dugdale, Esq. Norroy, king of arms at Lincoln’s-inn chapel. Dr. William Floyd married us, and her father gave her. The wedding was finished at 10 _hor. post merid_.”

Ashmole’s diary minutely records particulars of all sorts:--“September 5, I took pills; 6, I took a sweat; 7, I took leeches; all wrought very well.--December 19, Dr. Chamberlain proposed to me to bring Dr. Lister to my wife, that he might undertake her. 22. They both came to my house, and Dr. Lister _did_ undertake her.” Though Dr. Lister was her undertaker on that occasion, yet Ashmole records--“1687, April 16, my wife took Mr. Bigg’s vomit, which wrought very well.--19. She took _pulvis sanctis_; in the afternoon she took cold.” Death took Ashmole in 1695. He was superstitious and punctilious, and was perhaps a better antiquary than a friend; he seems to have possessed himself of Tradescant’s museum at South Lambeth in a manner which rather showed his love of antiquities than poor old Tradescant.

It is to be regretted that Ashmole’s life, “drawn up by himself by way of diary,” was not printed with the Life of Lilly in the “Autobiography.” Lilly’s Life is published in that pleasant work by itself. “Tom Davies” deemed them fit companions.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 53·80.

~October 9.~

ST. DENYS.

This name in the church of England calendar is properly noticed in vol. i. col. 1370.

* * * * *

On the celebration of this saint’s festival in catholic countries he is represented walking with his head in his hands, as we are assured he did, after his martyrdom. A late traveller in France relates, that on the 9th of October, the day of St. Denis, the patron saint of France, a procession was made to the village of St. Denis, about a league from Lyons. This was commonly a very disorderly and tumultuous assembly, and was the occasion some years ago of a scene of terrible confusion and slaughter. The porter who kept the gate of the city which leads to this village, in order to exact a contribution from the people as they returned, shut the gate at an earlier hour than usual. The people, incensed at the extortion, assembled in a crowd round the gate to force it, and in the conflict numbers were stifled, squeezed to death, or thrown into the Rhone, on the side of which the gate stood. Two hundred persons were computed to have lost their lives on this occasion. The porter paid his avarice with his life: he was condemned and executed as the author of the tumult, and of the consequences by which it was attended.[377]

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 52·62.

[377] Miss Plumptre.

~October 10.~

1826. Oxford and Cambridge Terms begin.

CHRONOLOGY.

On Sunday, October 10, 1742, during the time of worship, the roof of the church of Fearn, in Ross-shire, Scotland, fell suddenly in, and sixty people were killed, besides the wounded. The gentry whose seats were in the niches, and the preacher by falling under the sounding-board were preserved.[378]

PACK MONDAY FAIR, AT SHERBORNE, DORSETSHIRE

_To the Editor of the Every-Day Book._

_Sherborne, September, 1826._

Sir,--Having promised to furnish an account of our fair, I now take the liberty of handing it to you for insertion in your very entertaining work.

This fair is annually held on the first Monday after the 10th of October, and is a mart for the sale of horses, cows, fat and lean oxen, sheep, lambs, and pigs; cloth, earthenware, onions, wall and hazle nuts, apples, fruit trees, and the usual nick nacks for children, toys, gingerbread, sweetmeats, sugar plums, &c. &c. with drapery, hats, bonnets, caps, ribands, &c. for the country belles, of whom, when the weather is favourable, a great number is drawn together from the neighbouring villages.

Tradition relates that this fair originated at the termination of the building of the church, when the people who had been employed about it packed up their tools, and held a fair or wake, in the churchyard, blowing cows’ horns in their rejoicing, which at that time was perhaps the most common music in use.[379] The date at which the church was built is uncertain, but it may be conjectured in the sixth century, for in the year 704, king John fixed an episcopal see at, and Aldhelm was consecrated the first bishop of, Sherborne, in 705, and enjoyed the bishopric four years. Aldhelm died in 709, is said to be the first who introduced poetry into England, to have obtained a proficiency in music, and the first Englishman who ever wrote in Latin.

To the present time Pack Monday fair, is annually announced three or four weeks previous by all the little urchins who can procure and blow a cow’s horn, parading the streets in the evenings, and sending forth the different tones of their horny bugles, sometimes beating an old saucepan for a drum, to render the sweet sound more delicious, and not unfrequently a whistle-pipe or a fife is added to the band. The clock’s striking twelve on the Sunday night previous, is the summons for ushering in the fair, when the boys assemble with their horns, and parade the town with a noisy shout, and prepare to forage for fuel to light a bonfire, generally of straw, obtained from some of the neighbouring farmyards, which are sure to be plundered, without respect to the owners, if they have not been fortunate enough to secure the material in some safe part of their premises. In this way the youths enjoy themselves in boisterous triumph, to the annoyance of the sleeping part of the inhabitants, many of whom deplore, whilst others, who entertain respect for old customs, delight in the deafening mirth. At four o’clock the great bell is rang for a quarter of an hour. From this time, the bustle commences by the preparations for the coming scene: stalls erecting, windows cleaning and decorating, shepherds and drovers going forth for their flocks and herds, which are depastured for the night in the neighbouring fields, and every individual seems on the alert. The business in the sheep and cattle fairs (which are held in different fields, nearly in the centre of the town, and well attended by the gentlemen farmers, of Dorset, Somerset, and Devon) takes precedence, and is generally concluded by twelve o’clock, when what is called the in-fair begins to wear the appearance of business-like activity, and from this time till three or four o’clock more business is transacted in the shop, counting-house, parlour, hall, and kitchen, than at any other time of the day, it being a custom of the tradespeople to have their yearly accounts settled about this time, and scarcely a draper, grocer, hatter, ironmonger, bookseller, or other respectable tradesman, but is provided with an ample store of beef and home-brewed October, for the welcome of their numerous customers, few of whom depart without taking _quantum suff._ of the old English fare placed before them.

Now, (according to an old saying,) is the _town alive_. John takes Joan to see the shows,--there he finds the giant--here the learned pig--the giantess and dwarf--the menagerie of wild beasts--the conjuror--and Mr. Merry Andrew cracking his jokes with his _quondam_ master. Here it is--“Walk up, walk up, ladies and gentlemen, we are now going to begin, be in time, the price is only twopence.” Here is Mr. Warr’s merry round-about, with “a horse or a coach for a halfpenny.”--Here is Rebecca Swain[380] with her black and red cock, and lucky-bag, who bawls out, “Come, my little lucky rogues, and try your fortune for a halfpenny, all prizes and no blanks, a faint heart never wins a fair lady.”--Here is pricking in the garter.--Raffling for gingerbread, with the cry of “one in; who makes two, the more the merrier.”--Here is the Sheffield hardwareman, sporting a worn-out wig and huge pair of spectacles, offering, in lots, a box of razors, knives, scissors, &c., each lot of which he modestly says, “is worth seven shillings, but he’ll not be too hard on the gaping crowd, he’ll not take seven, nor six, nor five, nor four, nor three, nor two, but one shilling for the lot,--going at one shilling--sold again and the money paid.”--Here are two earthenware-men bawling their shilling’s worth one against the other, and quaffing beer to each other’s luck from that necessary and convenient chamber utensil that has modestly usurped the name of the great river _Po_. Here is _poor Will_, with a basket of gingerbread, crying “toss or buy.” There is a smirking little lad pinning two girls together by their gowns, whilst his companion cracks a Waterloo bang-up in their faces. Here stands John with his mouth wide open, and Joan with her sloe-black ogles stretched to their extremity at a fine painted shawl, which _Cheap John_ is offering for next to nothing; and here is a hundred other contrivances to draw the “_browns_” from the pockets of the unwary, and tickle the fancies of the curious; and sometimes the rogue of a pickpocket extracting farmer Anybody’s watch or money from his pockets.

This is Pack Monday fair, till evening throws on her dark veil, when the visiters in taking their farewell, stroll through the rows of gingerbread stalls, where the spruce Mrs. or Miss Sugarplum pops the cover of her nut-cannister forth, with “buy some nice nuts, do taste, sir, (or ma’me,) and treat your companion with a paper of nuts.” By this time the country folks are for jogging home, and vehicles and horses of every description on the move, and the bustle nearly over, with the exception of what is to be met with at the inns, where the lads and lasses so disposed, on the light fantastic toe, assisted by the merry scraping of the fiddler, finish the fun, frolic, and pastime of Pack Monday Fair.

I am, &c.

R. T.

* * * * *

SONNET.

_For the Every-Day Book._

Me, men’s gay haunts delight not, nor the glow Of lights that glitter in the crowded room; But nature’s paths where silver waters flow, Making sweet music as along they go, And shadowy groves where birds their light wings plume, Or the brown heath where waves the yellow broom, Or by the stream where bending willows grow, And silence reigns, congenial with my gloom.

For there no hollow hearts, no envious eyes, No flatt’ring tongues, no treacherous hands are found, No jealous feuds, no gold-born enmities, Nor cold deceits with which men’s walks abound, But quietness and health, which are more meet, Than glaring halls where riot holds her seat.

S. R. J.

[Illustration: ~The New River at Hornsey.~]

--------- The stream is pure in solitude, But passing on amid the haunts of men It finds pollution there, and rolls from thence A tainted tide.

_Southey._

My memory does not help me to a dozen passages from the whole range of authors, in verse and prose, put together; it only assists me to ideas of what I have read, and to recollect where they are expressed, but not to their words. As the “Minor Poems” are not at hand, I can only hope I have quoted the preceding lines accurately. Their import impressed me in my boyhood, and one fine summer’s afternoon, a year or two ago, I involuntarily repeated them while musing beside that part of the “New River” represented in the engraving. I had strolled to “the Compasses,” when “the garden,” as the landlord calls it, was free from the nuisance of “company;” and thither I afterwards deluded an artist, who continues to “use the house,” and supplies me with the drawing of this sequestered nook.

This “gentle river” meanders through countless spots of surprising beauty and variety within ten miles of town. When I was a boy I thought “Sadler’s Well’s arch,” opposite the “Sir Hugh Myddelton,” (a house immortalized by Hogarth,) the prime part of the river; for there, by the aid of a penny line, and a ha’porth of gentles and blood-worms, “mixed,” bought of old Turpin, who kept the little fishing-tackle shop, the last house by the river’s side, at the end next St. John’s-street-road, I essayed to gudgeon gudgeons. But the “prime” gudgeon-fishing, then, was at “the Coffin,” through which the stream flows after burying itself at the Thatched-house, under Islington road, to Colebrooke-row, within half a stone’s throw of a cottage, endeared to me, in later years, by its being the abode of “as much virtue as can _live_.” Past the Thatched-house, towards Canonbury, there was the “Horse-shoe,” now no more, and the enchanting rear--since despoiled--of the gardens to the retreats of Canonbury-place; and all along the river to the pleasant village of Hornsey, there were delightful retirements on its banks, so “far from the busy haunts of men,” that only a few solitary wanderers seemed to know them. Since then, I have gone “over the hills and far away,” to see it sweetly flowing at Enfield Chase, near many a “cottage of content,” as I have conceived the lowly dwellings to be, which there skirt it, with their little gardens, not too trim, whence the inmates cross the neat iron bridges of the “New River Company,” which, thinking of “auld lang syne,” I could almost wish were of wood. Further on, the river gracefully recedes into the pleasant grounds of the late Mr. Gough the antiquary, who, if he chiefly wrote on the manners and remains of old times, had an especial love and kind feeling for the amiable and picturesque of our own. Pursuing the river thence to Theobalds, it presents to the “contemplative man’s recreation,” temptations that old Walton himself might have coveted to fall in his way: and why may we not “suppose that the vicinity of the New River, to the place of his habitation, might sometimes tempt him out, whose loss he so pathetically mentions, to spend an afternoon there.” He tells “the honest angler,” that the writing of his book was the “recreation of a recreation,” and familiarly says, “the whole discourse is, or rather was, a picture of my own disposition, especially in such days and times as I have laid aside business, and gone a fishing with honest Nat. and R. Roe; but they are gone, and with them most of my pleasant hours,--even as a shadow that passeth away and returns not.”

* * * * *

I dare not say that I am, and yet I cannot say that I never was, an angler; for I well remember where, though I cannot tell when, within a year, I was enticed to “go a fishing,” as the saying is, which I have sometimes imagined was derived from Walton’s motto on the title of his book:--“Simon Peter said, I _go a fishing_: and they said, we also will go with thee.--_John_ xxi. 3.” This passage is not in all the editions of the “Complete Angler,” but it was engraven on the title-page of the first edition, printed in 1653. Allow me to refer to one of “captain Wharton’s almanacs,” as old Lilly calls them in his “Life and Times,” and point out what was, perhaps, the earliest _advertisement_ of Walton’s work: it is on the back of the dedication leaf to “HEMEROSCOPEION: Anni Æræ Christianæ 1654.” The almanac was published of course in the preceding year, which was the year wherein Walton’s work was printed.

~Advertisement of Walton’s Angler, 1653.~

“There is published a Booke of Eighteen-pence price, called _The Compleat Angler_, Or, _The Contemplative man’s Recreation_: being a Discourse of Fish and Fishing. Not unworthy the perusall. Sold by _Richard Marriot_ in S. _Dunstan_’s Church-yard _Fleetstreet_.”

This advertisement I deem a bibliomaniacal curiosity. Only think of the first edition of Walton as a “booke of eighteen-pence price!” and imagine the good old man on the day of publication, walking from his house “on the north side of Fleet-street, two doors west of the end of Chancery-lane,” to his publisher and neighbour just by, “Richard Marriot, in S. Dunstan’s Churchyard,” for the purpose of inquiring “how” the book “went off.” There is, or lately was, a large fish in effigy, at a fishing-tackle-maker’s in Fleet-street, near Bell-yard, which, whenever I saw it, after I first read Walton’s work, many years ago, reminded me of him, and his pleasant book, and its delightful ditties, and brought him before me, sitting on “a primrose bank” turning his “present thoughts into verse”

THE ANGLER’S WISH.

I in these flowery meads would be: These crystal streams should solace me; To whose harmonious bubbling noise I with my angle would rejoice: Sit here, and see the turtle-dove Court his chaste mate to acts of love:

Or, on that bank, feel the west wind Breathe health and plenty: please my mind, To see sweet dew-drops kiss these flowers, And then washed off by April showers; Here, hear my _Kenna_ sing a song; There, see a blackbird feed her young, Or a leverock build her nest: Here, give my weary spirits rest, And raise my low-pitch’d thoughts above Earth, or what poor mortals love: Thus, free from law-suits and the noise Of princes’ courts, I would rejoice:

Or, with my Bryan, and a book, Loiter long days near Shawford-brook; There sit by him, and eat my meat, There see the sun both rise and set; There bid good morning to next day; There meditate my time away; And angle on; and beg to have A quiet passage to a welcome grave.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 52·05.

[378] Gentleman’s Magazine.

[379] _Hutchins_, in his “_History of Dorset_,” says, this “Fair is held in the churchyard,[381] on the first Monday after the feast of St. Michael, (O. S.) and is a great holyday for the inhabitants of the town and neighbourhood. It is ushered in by the ringing of the great bell, at a very early hour in the morning, and by the boys and young men perambulating the street with cows’ horns, to the no small annoyance of their less wakeful neighbours. It has been an immemorial custom in Sherborne, for the boys to blow horns in the evenings in the streets, for some weeks before the fair.”

[380] A tall and portly dame, six feet full, with a particular screw of the mouth, and whom the writer recollects when he was a mere child, thirty years ago; none who have seen and heard her once, but will recollect her as long as they live.

[381] The fair has been removed from the churchyard about six or seven years, and is now held on a spacious parade, in a street not far from the church.

~October 11.~

This is “Old Michaelmas Day.”

“DUNCAN’S VICTORY.”

On the 11th of October, 1797, admiral Duncan obtained a splendid victory over the Dutch fleet off Camperdown, near the isle of Texel, on the coast of Holland. For this memorable achievement he was created a viscount, with a pension of two thousand pounds per annum. His lordship died on the 4th of August, 1804; he was born at Dundee, in Scotland, on the 1st of July, 1731. After the battle of Camperdown was decided, he called his crew together in the presence of the captured Dutch admiral, who was greatly affected by the scene, and Duncan kneeling on the deck, with every man under his command, “solemnly and pathetically offered up praise and thanksgiving to the God of battles;--strongly proving the truth of the assertion, that piety and courage should be inseparably allied, and that the latter without the former loses its principal virtue.”[382]

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 51·82.

[382] Butler’s Chronological Exercises.

~October 12.~

CHRONOLOGY.

On the 12th of October, 1748, was born at St. John’s near Worcester, Mr. William Butler, the author of “Chronological, Biographical, Historical, and Miscellaneous Exercises,” an excellent work, for young persons especially, a useful compendium in every library, and one to which the editor of the _Every-Day Book_ has been indebted as a ready guide to many interesting and important events.

In the seventh edition of Mr. Butler’s work just mentioned, we are informed by his son, Mr. John Olding Butler, that his father was educated in the city of Worcester. Having acquired considerable knowledge, and especially an excellent style of penmanship, he in 1765 repaired to the metropolis, and commenced his career as a teacher of writing and geography. In these branches of education he attained the highest repute on account of the improvements which were introduced by him in his mode of instruction. His copies were derived from the sources of geography, history, and biographical memoirs. A yet more extensive and permanent benefit was conferred upon young persons by the many useful and ingenious works which he published, a list of which is subjoined. They contain a mass of information, both instructive and entertaining, rarely collected in one form, and are admirably adapted to promote the great design of their author--the moral, intellectual, and religious improvement of the rising generation; to this he consecrated all his faculties, the stores of his memory, and the treasures of his knowledge.

As a practical teacher Mr. Butler had few superiors, and his success in life was commensurate with his merit: he was the most popular instructor in his line.

A strict probity, an inviolable regard to truth, an honourable independence of mind, and a diffusive benevolence, adorned his moral character; and to these eminent virtues must be added, that of a rigid economy and improvement of time, for which he was most remarkable. How much he endeavoured to inculcate that which he deemed the foundation of every virtue, the principle of religion, may be seen in his “Chronological, &c., Exercises:” to impress this principle on the youthful heart and mind was considered by him as the highest duty. Mr. Butler’s professional labours were commenced at the early age of seventeen, and were continued with indefatigable ardour to the last year of his life, a period of fifty-seven years. In estimating the value of such a man, we should combine his moral principle with his literary employments; these were formed by him into duties, which he most conscientiously discharged: and he will be long remembered as one who communicated to a large and respectable circle of pupils solid information, examples of virtue, and the means of happiness; and who, in an age fruitful of knowledge, by his writings instructed, and will long continue to instruct the rising generation, and benefit mankind. His virtues will live and have a force beyond the grave.

Mr. Butler died at Hackney, August 1, 1822, after a painful illness, borne with exemplary patience and resignation. He was one of the oldest inhabitants of that parish, and was interred there, by his own desire, in the burying-ground attached to the meeting-house of his friend, the late Rev. Samuel Palmer.

* * * * *

_A list of Mr. Butler’s books for the use of young persons._

1. CHRONOLOGICAL EXERCISES, already mentioned. Price 6_s._ bound.

2. An engraved INTRODUCTION to ARITHMETIC, designed to facilitate young beginners, and to diminish the labour of the tutor. 4_s._ 6_d._ bound.

3. ARITHMETICAL QUESTIONS, on a new plan; intended to answer the double purpose of arithmetical instruction and miscellaneous information. 6_s._ bound.

4. GEOGRAPHICAL and BIOGRAPHICAL EXERCISES, on a new plan. 4_s._

5. EXERCISES on the GLOBES, interspersed with historical, biographical, chronological, mythological, and miscellaneous information, on a new plan. The ninth edition. 6_s._ bound.

6. A numerous collection of ARITHMETICAL TABLES. 8_d._

7. GEOGRAPHICAL EXERCISES IN THE NEW TESTAMENT; with maps, and a brief account of the principal religious sects. 5_s._ 6_d._ bound.

8. MISCELLANEOUS QUESTIONS, relating principally to English history and biography. Second edition, enlarged. 4_s._

Mr. BOURN, son-in-law of Mr. Butler, and his associate in his profession upwards of thirty years, purchased the copyright of the greater part of Mr. Butler’s works. They have passed through a number of editions, and if the _Every-Day Book_ extend a knowledge of their value, it will be to the certain benefit of those for whose use they were designed. The envious and suspicious may deny that there is such a quality as “disinterestedness in human actions,” yet the editor has neither friendship nor intimacy with any one whom this notice may appear to favour. He only knows Mr. Butler’s books, and therefore recommends them as excellent aids to parents and teachers.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 50·10.

~October 13.~

TRANSLATION K. EDWARD. CONF.

This notice of the day in the church of England calendar and almanacs, denotes it as the festival of the translation of king Edward the Confessor.[383]

* * * * *

Edward the Confessor died on the 5th of January, 1066, and was buried in the abbey church of St. Peter, Westminster. “His queen, Edgitha, survived the saint many years;” she was buried beside him, and her coffin was covered with plates of silver and gold. According to his biographers, in 1102, the body of St. Edward was found entire, the limbs flexible, and the clothes fresh. The bishop of Rochester “out of a devout affection, endeavoured to pluck onely one hayre from his head, but it stuck so firmly that he was defeated of his desire.” This was at the saint’s first translation. Upon miracles “duly proved, the saint was canonized by Alexander III., in 1161.” It appears that “there are commemorated severall translations of his sacred body.” In 1163, “it was again translated by S. Thomas à Becket, archbishop of Canterbury, in the presence of king Henry II. This translation seems to have been made on the 13th of October; for on that day “he is commemorated in our martyrologe, whereas in the Roman he is celebrated on the 5th of January.” It further appears that, “about a hundred years after, in the presence of king Henry III., it was again translated, and reposed in a golden shrine, prepared for it by the same king.[384]

* * * * *

The see of Rome is indebted to Edward the Confessor for a grant to the pope of what was then called Rome-scot, but is now better known by the name of “Peterpenny.” The recollection of this tribute is maintained by the common saying “no penny, no paternoster;” of which there is mention in the following poem from the “Hesperides:”--

Fresh strewings allow To my sepulcher now, To make my lodging the sweeter; A staffe or a wand Put then in my hand, With a penny to pay S. Peter.

Who has not a crosse, Must sit with the losse, And no whit further must venture; Since the porter he Will paid have his fee, Or els not one there must enter.

Who at a dead lift, Can’t send for a gift, A pig to the priest for a roster Shall heare his clarke say, By yea and by nay, No penny no pater noster.

_Herrick._

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 50·62.

[383] See vol. 1. 1376.

[384] Butler. Cresys.

~October 14.~

A LUCKY DAY.

“SOME MEMORABLE REMARQUES _upon the_ FOURTEENTH OF OCTOBER, being the Auspicious Birth-Day of His Present Majesty The Most Serene King JAMES II. Luc. xix. 42 _In Hoc Die Tuo_. In This THY DAY. London, Printed by _A. R._ And are to be sold by _Randal Taylor_, near _Stationers_-Hall 1687.” Folio.

In this curious tract, the author purports to set forth “how lucky the _Fourteenth of October_ hath been to the princes of England,” and because he discovers “out of _Wharton’s Gesta Britannorum_, and the collections of others, that his late royal highness, our magnanimous magnificent sovereign, (James II.,) was also born upon that _augural_ day,” he observes--“It made more than ordinary impression upon me, so that I never saw him, but, I thought, in his very face there were extraordinary instances and tokens of regality.”

There were some, it seems, who, after “his late royal highness” the dukes “recess into Holland,” “exceedingly tryumphed, wishing he might never return; nay, that he durst not, nor would be permitted so to do; using, moreover, opprobrious terms.” These persons, he tells us, he “prophetically characteris’d” in his “_Introductio ad Latinam Blasoniam_;” hence, he says, “Indignation made me print my ensuing sentiments,” which “found good acceptance among the better and more loyal sort;” and hence, he further says, “things by me forethought, and publickly hinted, being come to pass, my _Day Fatality_ began to be remembred; and one whom I wish very well, desiring I would give him leave to reprint _that_, and two other of my small pieces together, I assented to his request.” These form the present treatise, from whence we gather that the _Fourteenth of October_

------------- “gave the Norman duke That vict’ry whence he England’s scepter took,”

and was remarkable for the safe landing of Edward III., after being endangered by a tempest at sea on his returning victorious from France. Wherefore, says our author, in Latin first, and then in these English lines--

“Great duke rejoice in this your day of birth, And may such _omens_ still increase your mirth.”

Afterwards he relates, from Matthew Paris, that when “Lewis king of France had set footing here, and took some eminent places, he besieged Calais from 22 of July, to the _Fourteenth of October_ following, about which time the siege was raised, and England thereby relieved.” Likewise “a memorable peace, (foretold by Nostradamus) much conducing to the saving of christian blood, was made upon the _Fourteenth of October, 1557_, between pope Paul the IV., Henry the II. of France, and Philip the II. of Spain.” Whereon, exclaims our exultant author, “A _lucky day_ this, not only to the princes of England, but auspicious to the welfare of Europe.” He concludes by declaring “that it may be so to his royal highness, as well as it was to the most great queen his mother, are the hearty prayers of BLEW-MANTLE.”

From the conclusion of the last sentence, and the previous reference to his “Blasoniam,” we find this writer to have been John Gibbon, the author of “An Easie Introduction to Latine Blason, being both Latine and English”--an octavo volume, now only remembered by the few collectors of every thing written on “coat-armour.”

* * * * *

Gibbon speaks of one of his pamphlets “whose title _should_ have been _Dux Bonis Omnibus Appellens_, or _The Swans’ Welcome_;” or rather, as he afterwards set it out at large, “Some Remarks upon the Note-worthy Passage, mentioned in the TRUE DOMESTICK INTELLIGENCE dated _October the Fourteenth 1679_, concerning a company of SWANS more than ordinary gathered together at his royal highness’s landing.” Instead, however, of its having such a title, he tells us “there was _a strange mistake_, not only in that, but in other material circumstances; so that many suppose, the printer could never have done it himself, but borrowed the assistance of the evil spirit to render it ridiculous, and not only so, but the very _Duke_ himself and the _Loyal Artillery_!”, wherefore “the printer smothered the far greatest number of them,” yet, as he adds it to the tract on the _Fourteenth of October_, we have the advantage to be told “what authors say of the candid Swan,” that all esteem him for a “bird royal,” that “oftentimes in coats and crests we meet him either crown’d or coronally collar’d,” that “he is a bird of great beauty and strength also,” that “shipmen take it for good luck if in peril of shipwreck they meet swans,” that “he uses not his strength to prey or tyrannize over any other fowl, but only to be revenged of such as offer him wrong,” and so forth. _Ergo_--according to “Blew-mantle,” we should believe that, “the most serene king James II.” was greeted by these honourable birds, “in _allegory_ assembled,” to signify his kindred virtues. If Gibbon lived from 1687, where he published his “Remarques, on the _Fourteenth of October_” as the auspicious birth-day of James II. until the landing of William III. in the following year--did he follow the swan-like monarch to the court of France, or remain “Blew-mantle” in the Herald’s college, to do honour to the court of “the deliverer?”

Gibbon, in his “Remarques,” on the “auspicious” _Fourteenth of October_, prints the following epistle, to himself, which may be regarded as a curiosity on account of the superstition of its writer.

A letter from Sir _Winston Churchil_, Knight; Father to the Right Honourable, _John_ Lord Churchil.

I Thank you for your kind Present, the Observation of the _Fatality of Days_. I have made great Experience of the Truth of it; and have set down _Fryday_, as my own Lucky Day; the Day on which I was Born, Christen’d, Married, and, I believe, will be the Day of my Death: The Day whereon I have had sundry Deliverances, (too long to relate) from Perils by Sea and Land, Perils by False Brethren, Perils of Law Suits, &c. I was Knighted (by chance, unexpected by my self) on the same Day; and have several good Accidents happened to me, on that Day: And am so superstitious in the Belief of its good Omen, That I chuse to begin any Considerable Action (that concerns me) on the same Day. I hope HE, whom it most concerns, will live to own your Respect, and Good Wishes, expressed in That Essay of yours: Which discovering a more than common Affection to the DUKE, and being as valuable for the Singularity of the _Subject_, as the Ingenuity of your _Fancy_, I sent into _Flanders_, as soon as I had it; That They on the Other Side the Water may see, ’Tis not all sowre Wine, that runs from our _English_ Press.

* * * * *

“The Right Honourable, John Lord Churchil,” mentioned at the head of this ominous letter, became celebrated as “the great duke of Marlborough.” Sir Winston Churchill was the author of “Divi Britannici, a history of the lives of the English kings” in folio; but his name is chiefly remembered in connection with his son’s, and from his having also been father to Arabella Churchill, who became mistress to the most serene king of Blew-Mantle Gibbon, and from that connection was mother of the duke of Berwick, who turned his arms against the country of her birth.

Sir Winston was a cavalier, knighted at the restoration of Charles II., for exertions in the royal cause, by which his estates became forfeited. He recovered them under Charles, obtained a seat in the house of commons, became a fellow of the royal society, had a seat at the board of green cloth, and died in 1688. He was born in 1620, at Wootton Glanville, in Dorsetshire.[385] His letter on “Fryday” is quite as important as his “Divi Britannici.”

TAKING HONEY WITHOUT KILLING THE BEES.

On the 14th day of October, 1766, Mr. Wildman, of Plymouth, who had made himself famous throughout the west of England for his command over bees, was sent for to wait on lord Spencer, at his seat at Wimbledon, in Surrey; and he attended accordingly. Several of the nobility and persons of fashion were assembled, and the countess had provided three stocks of bees. The first of his performances was with one hive of bees hanging on his hat, which he carried in his hand, and the hive they came out of in the other hand; this was to show that he could take honey and wax without destroying the bees. Then he returned into the room, and came out again with them hanging on his chin, with a very venerable beard. After showing them to the company, he took them out upon the grass walk facing the windows, where a table and table cloth being provided, he set the hive upon the table, and made the bees hive therein. Then he made them come out again, and swarm in the air, the ladies and nobility standing amongst them, and no person stung by them. He made them go on the table and took them up by handfuls, and tossed them up and down like so many peas; he then made them go into their hive at the word of command. At five o’clock in the afternoon he exhibited again with the three swarms of bees, one on his head, one on his breast, and the other on his arm, and waited on lord Spencer in his room, who had been too much indisposed to see the former experiments; the hives which the bees had been taken from, were carried by one of the servants. After this exhibition he withdrew, but returned once more to the room with the bees all over his head, face, and eyes, and was led blind before his lordship’s window. One of his lordship’s horses being brought out in his body clothes, Mr. Wildman mounted the horse, with the bees all over his head and face, (except his eyes;) they likewise covered his breast and left arm; he held a whip in his right hand, and a groom led the horse backwards and forwards before his lordship’s window for some time. Mr. Wildman afterwards took the reins in his hand, and rode round the house; he then dismounted, and made the bees march upon a table, and at his word of command retire to their hive. The performance surprised and gratified the earl and countess and all the spectators who had assembled to witness this great bee-master’s extraordinary exhibition.[386]

* * * * *

Can the honey be taken without destroying the bees? There are accounts to this effect in several books, but some of the methods described are known to have failed. The editor is desirous of ascertaining, whether there is a convenient mode of preserving the bees from the cruel death to which they are generally doomed, after they have been despoiled of their sweets.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 50·85.

[385] General Biographical Dictionary, (Hunt and Clarke,) vol. i.

[386] Annual Register, 1766.

~October 15.~

EXHUMATION.

It appears from a printed half sheet, of which the following is a copy, that the will of a person who had been resident at Stevenage, was proved on this day in the year 1724, whereby he desired his remains to be kept unburied. It is a curious document, and further information respecting the individual whose caprice was thus indulged will be acceptable.

(COPY)

THE ECCENTRIC WILL

OF THE LATE

HENRY TRIGG, OF STEVENAGE,

Where his Remains are still upon the Rafters of the West End of the Hovel, and may be viewed by any Traveller who may think it worthy of Notice.

_The same is recorded in History, and may be depended on as a Fact._

~In the Name of God, Amen.~

I, HENRY TRIGG, of Stevenage, in the County of Hertford, Grocer, being very infirm and weak in body, but of perfect sound mind and memory, praised be God for it, calling unto mind the mortality of my body, do now make and ordain this my last WILL and TESTAMENT, in writing hereafter following, that is to say:--Principally I recommend my Soul into the merciful hands of Almighty God that first gave me it, assuredly believing and only expecting free pardon and forgiveness of all my sins, and eternal life in and through the only merits, death, and passion of Jesus Christ my Saviour; and as to my body, I commit it to the West End of my Hovel, to be decently laid there upon a floor erected by my Executor, upon the purlins, upon the same purpose, nothing doubting but at the general Resurrection I shall receive the same again by the mighty power of God, and as for and concerning such wordly substance as it hath pleased God to bless me with in this life, I do devise and dispose of the same in manner and form following.

_Imprimis._--I give and devise unto my loving brother THOMAS TRIGG, of _Letchworth_, in the County of _Hertford_, Clerk, and to his Heirs and Assigns for ever, all those my Freehold Lands lying dispersedly in the several Common Fields and parish of _Stevenage_ aforesaid, and also all my Copyhold Lands, upon condition that he shall lay my body upon the place before-mentioned: and also all that Messuage, Cottage, or Tenement, at _Redcoat’s Green_, in the parish of _Much Wymondly_, together with those Nine Acres of Land, (more or less) purchased of William Hale and Thomas Hale, junr. and also my Cottage, Orchard, and Barn, with Four Acres of Land (more or less) belonging, lying, and being in the parish of _Little Wymondly_, now in the possession of SAMUEL KITCHENER, labourer; and also all my Cottages, Messuages, or Tenements, situate and being in _Stevenage_, aforesaid; or, upon condition that he shall pay my brother GEORGE TRIGG the sum of Ten Pounds per annum for his life; but if my brother should neglect or refuse to lay my body where I desire it should be laid, then upon that condition, I Will and bequeath all that which I have already bequeathed to my brother THOMAS TRIGG, unto my brother GEORGE TRIGG, and to his Heirs for ever: and if my brother GEORGE TRIGG, should refuse to lay my body under my Hovel, then what I have bequeathed unto him as all my Lands and Tenements, I lastly bequeath them unto my Nephew WILLIAM TRIGG, and his Heirs for ever, upon his seeing that my body is decently laid up there as aforesaid.

_Item._--I give and bequeath unto my Nephew WILLIAM TRIGG, the sum of Five Pounds at the age of Thirty Years: to his Sister SARAH the sum of Twenty Pounds; to his Sister ROSE the sum of Twenty Pounds; and lastly to his Sister ANN the sum of Twenty Pounds, all at the age of Thirty Years: to JOHN SPENCER, of London, Butcher, the sum of One Guinea; and to SOLOMON SPENCER, of Stevenage, the sum of One Guinea, three years next after my decease; to my cousin HENRY KIMPTON, One Guinea, one year next after my decease; and another Guinea, two years after my decease; to WILLIAM WABY, Five Shillings; and to JOSEPH PRIEST, Two Shillings and Sixpence, two years after my decease; to my tenant ROBERT WRIGHT the sum of Five Shillings, two years next after my decease; and to RALPH LOWD and JOHN REEVES, One Shilling each, two years next after my decease.

_Item._---- All the rest of my Goods, and Chattels, and personal Estate, and ready Money, I do hereby give and devise unto my Brother THOMAS TRIGG, paying my Debts and laying my Body where I would have it laid, whom I likewise make and ordain my full and sole Executor of this my last Will and Testament, or else to them before mentioned; ratifying and confirming this and no other to be my last Will and Testament. In witness whereof I have hereunto set my Hand and Seal, this twenty-eighth day of September, in the year of our Lord, one Thousand seven Hundred and twenty four.

HENRY TRIGG.

_Read, Signed, Sealed, and declared by the said_ HENRY TRIGG, _the Testator, to be his last Will and Testament, in the presence of us, who have subscribed our Names as Witnesses hereto, in the Presence of the said Testator_.

JOHN HAWKINS, Senr.

JOHN HAWKINS, Junr.

The mark [X] of WILLIAM SEXTON.

Proved in the Archdeaconry of Huntingdon, the 15th of October, 1724, by the Executor THOMAS TRIGG.

* * * * *

In October, 1743, a cobbler, at Bristol, died of a bite in the finger inflicted by a cat, which was sent to his house by an old woman in revenge for his calling her “Witch,” against which dipping in salt water proved ineffectual. “This, they say, was well attested;” and well it might be; for doubtless the cat was mad, and the woman, bewitched by the unhappy cobbler of Bristol, had no more to do with the bite, than “the old woman of Ratcliff-highway.”

* * * * *

[Illustration: Mercury.]

The 15th day of October was dedicated by “the Merchants to Mercury,” and is so noted in the calendar of Julius Cæsar. This name is derived _a mercibus_, because he was the god of merchandize; and, in that quality, he is sometimes represented as a young man without a beard, holding on his wrists a cock as an emblem of vigilance, and in his hand a purse as its reward. A beautiful head of this deity on hiacynth, in the possession of lord Clanbrassill, when it was charmingly etched by Worlidge, is pictured in the present engraving. It suggests itself as one of the most elegant forms for a seal that can be presented to the eye.

* * * * *

Gather your rose-buds while you may, Old Time is still a-flying; And that same flower that blooms to-day, To-morrow may be dying.

The glorious lamp of heaven, the Sun, The higher he is getting, The further still his course is run, And nearer he’s to setting.

[Illustration: ~The German Showman.~]

An elevated stand he takes, And to the fiddle’s squeak, he makes A loud and entertaining lecture On every wonder-working picture:-- The children cry “hark!--look at that!” And folks put money in the hat; Or buy his papers that explain The stories they would hear again.

This engraving is taken from one by Chodowiecki, of Berlin, to show the German showman, on his stage of boards and tressils, as he shows his pictures. These are usually prints stretched out, side by side, on an upright frame, or sometimes oil paintings representing characters or situations of interest. For instance, in the present exhibition there is the mode of keeping the festival of the new year, a grand ball, a feast, a wedding, a “high sight” of the court, and, in all, thirteen subjects, sufficiently beyond the intimacy of the populace to excite their curiosity. The showman commonly details so much concerning every thing in his grand exhibition, and so elevates each, as to interest his auditors to the height of desiring further particulars. The stories are printed separately in the shape of ballads or garlands, and “embellished with cuts;” by the sale of these to his auditors he obtains the reward of his oratory.

The qualifications for a German showman are a manly person, sonorous voice, fluent delivery, and imposing manner. In dress he is like a sergeant-major, and in address like a person accustomed to command. He is accompanied in his speeches by a fiddler of vivacity or trick, to keep the people “in merry pin.” This associate is generally an old humourist, with a false nose of strange form and large dimensions, or a huge pair of spectacles. Their united exertions are sure to gratify audiences more disposed to be pleased than to criticise. With them, the show is an affair of like or dislike to the eye, and beyond that the judgment is seldom appealed to on the spot. If the outlines of the showman’s stories are bold, and well expressed, they are sure to amuse; his printed narratives are in good demand; both exhibitors and auditors part satisfied with each other; and they frequently meet again. This is the lowest order of the continental street comedy. In England we have not any thing like it, nor are we likely to have; for, though strange sights almost cease to attract, yet the manager and musician to a rational exhibition of this sort, in the open air, clearly come within the purview of recent acts of parliament, and would be consigned to the tread-mill. What recreation, however, can be more harmless if the subjects are harmless. “Death and the Lady,” the “Bloody Gardener’s Cruelty,” and the numerous tribe of stories to which these garlands belong, continue to be pinned on lines against a few walls of the metropolis, but they cease to attract. The “common people,” as they are called, require a new species of street entertainment and a new literature: both might be easily supplied with infinite advantage to the public morals.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 50·72.

~October 16.~

THE SEASON.

An appearance at this time of the year, already noticed, appears to have surprised our countrymen in Lancashire. Though there is no doubt that the authorities who communicate the intelligence believe it very remarkable, yet it is doubtful whether the occurrence may not be more frequent in that part of England than they have had the opportunity of remarking. Their account is to the following purport:--

On Sunday, October 1, 1826, a phenomenon of rare occurrence in the neighbourhood of Liverpool was observed in that vicinage, and for many miles distant, especially at Wigan. The fields and roads were covered with a light filmy substance, which by many persons was mistaken for cotton; although they might have been convinced of their error, as staple cotton does not exceed a few inches in length, while the filaments seen in such incredible quantities extended as many yards. In walking in the fields the shoes were completely covered with it, and its floating fibres came in contact with the face in all directions. Every tree, lamppost, or other projecting body had arrested a portion of it. It profusely descended at Wigan like a sleet, and in such quantities as to affect the appearance of the atmosphere. On examination it was found to contain small flies, some of which were so diminutive as to require a magnifying glass to render them perceptible. The substance so abundant in quantity was the _gossamer_ of the garden, or field spider, often met with in the country in fine weather, and of which, according to Buffon, it would take 663,552 spiders to produce a single pound.[387]

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 58·45.

[387] Liverpool Mercury. See The Times, October 9.

~October 17.~

A LYING-IN CUSTOM.

A lady who is pleased to grace these columns by her pen, transmits a very minute description of a very “comfortable thing” at this time of the year, which may well be extended from a particular usage at an interesting period, to a general one.

SUGARED TOAST.

_To the Editor of the Every-Day Book._

_Westbury, September 10, 1826._

Sir,--I suspect that although you solicit the aid of correspondents in furnishing your excellent miscellany with accounts of local customs, you scarcely expect to receive one which appertains to that important time, when mothers increase their care, and fathers receive the additional “tender juveniles” with joy or sorrow, “as it may happen!” If you should give publicity to the following strange “feast,” (more honoured in the breach than in the observance,) I shall feel gratified, as it may not only lead to an elucidation of its meaning and origin, but will tend to convince your readers, that you will not despise their efforts at contribution, however humble. I am not a native of this part of the country, or, as the good people say here, I am not “one o’ Westbury,” for I have resided till lately in and near London, where the manners customs, and habits, are a hundred years in advance of those of the western part of the kingdom; hence, many of the usages that obtain around us, which now excite my surprise, would have passed as a thing of course, had I been always among them.

On the “confinement” of a lady,--but I must, before I proceed, define a _lady_ “of these parts,” by the unerring test of her husband’s qualifications: if he can maintain his own, and her station in their little world, he is then “well to do,”--“a rich fellow enough, go to--a fellow that hath had losses, and which is more, a householder; one who hath two gowns to his back, and every thing handsome about him;”--one who recreates in his own gig; keeps a “main” of company; patronises the tiny theatre; grows his own pines, and tries to coax his forced plants into the belief that the three dozen mould candles which he orders to be lighted in his hot-house every evening, are “shedding delicious _light_,” left by the “garish god of day,” for their especial benefit, during his nocturnal rambles![388] The wife of such a man, sir, I designate a lady and when such a lady’s _accouchement_ takes place, her “dear five hundred friends” are admitted to see her the next day. In London, the scale of friendship is graduated woefully lower; for visiters there, bear the pangs of absence from the interesting recluse a _whole fortnight_.

You are, doubtless, anxious to come to the “pith and marrow” of this communication, and I will tantalize you no longer. In “_these_” parts of the country, it is the custom, when a lady shall have been “as well as can be expected,” for thirteen or fourteen days, for the husband to enjoy what is called “the gentleman’s party,” viz: all his friends, bachelor and Benedict, are invited to eat “sugared toast,” which, (as the cookery-books always say,) “is thus prepared”--Rounds of bread are “_baked_,” (videlicit _toasted_,) each stratum spread thick with moist sugar, and piled up in a portly punch bowl, ready for action: “strong beer,” (_anglice_, home-brewed ale,) is in the mean time heated, and poured boiling hot over the mound of bread; which is taken immediately to the expectant guests, who quickly come to the conclusion of the gothic “mess.” How they contrive to emancipate the toast from the scalding liquid, I never could, by any effort of ingenuity and research, decide to my own satisfaction. A goodly slice you know, sir, it would be entirely impracticable to achieve; for in half a minute from the time of the admission of the “hot beer,” the toast must be “all of a swam,” (as we elegantly say here,) and, resembling the contents of the witch’s cauldron, “thick and slab.” Whether a soup ladle and soup plates are in requisition on the occasion, I am equally unable to ascertain; but on the _final_ dismissal of this gentlemanly food, (for I by no means would insinuate that the congregation is limited to one act of devotion,) they magnanimously remunerate the “nurse,” by each putting money into the empty bowl, which is then conveyed to the priestess of their ignoble orgies! Of all the “mean and impotent conclusions” of a feast, defend me from _that_, which pays its “pic nic” pittance to an old crone, who is hired to attend the behests of the “lady,” but who by some strange mutation becomes the directress of the “gentleman’s” revels, and the recipient of the payment from his guests, for “_sugar’d toast_!”

Should this “custom,” be thought worthy of being admitted into the _Every-Day Book_, you will “tell” of something more than Herrick “dreamt of in his philosophy;” and the following couplet might “blush to find its fame” among his descriptive lines that adorn your title-page; after

“Bridegrooms, brides, and of their bridal cakes,”

might come--

“I tell of times when husbands rule the roast, And riot in the joys of ‘sugar’d toast;’ I tell of groves, &c.”

I am, Sir,

Yours very respectfully,

I. J. T.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 50·60.

[388] A fact!

~October 18.~

DEATH OF THE LOTTERY.

If any thing can be believed that is said by the lottery people respecting the lottery, before the appearance of the next sheet of the _Every-Day Book_ the lottery will be at an end for ever.

## Particulars respecting the last moments of this “unfortunate

malefactor,” will be very acceptable if transmitted immediately; and in order to an account of lotteries in the ensuing sheet, information and anecdotes respecting them are most earnestly desired.

FORGED NOTES IN SHOP WINDOWS.

A newspaper of this day in the year 1818, contains a paragraph which marks the discontent that prevailed in London, in consequence of a regulation adopted by the Bank of England at that time.

“The new mode adopted by the Bank, of stamping the forged notes presented to them for payment, and returning them to the parties who may have received them, has at least the good effect of operating as a caution to others, not to receive notes without the greatest caution. It has, however, another effect often productive of public inconvenience; for such are the doubts now entertained as to the goodness of every note tendered in payment, that many will not give change at all; and the disposition to adhere to this practice seems every day to be getting more general. In almost every street in town, forged notes are seen posted on tradesmen’s windows, and not unfrequently this exhibition is accompanied with the words ‘Tradesmen! beware of changing notes.’ The operation of stamping the forged notes, was at first performed by the hand, but now so arduous has this labour become, that a machine is erected for the purpose, and it would seem from the never-ceasing quantity of such paper in circulation, that it will be necessary to erect a steam-engine, so that hundreds may undergo the operation at once.”[389]

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 51·32.

[389] Observer.

~October 19.~

GARRICK.

“Garrick was, and Kemble is no more.”

On this day in the year 1741, the “British Roscius,” as he is emphatically termed, made his first appearance as “a gentleman who never appeared on any stage.” A remarkable event, precursing the revival of the drama, by Garrick, and its perfection by Kemble, deserves notice as a memorial of what “has been:” particularly as we have arrived at a period when, in consequence of managers having been outmanaged, and the public tricked out of its senses, the drama seems to have fallen to rise no more.

* * * * *

_Leadenhall-street, October, 1826._

Sir,--The following is a copy of the play-bill that announced the first appearance of Mr. Garrick.

I am, Sir, yours truly,

H. B.

_October 19, 1741._

GOODMAN’S FIELDS.

At the late Theatre in Goodman’s Fields, this day will be performed a Concert of Vocal and Instrumental Music, divided into two parts.

Tickets at Three, Two, and One Shilling.

Places for the boxes to be taken at the Fleece Tavern, near the Theatre.

N. B. Between the two parts of the Concert will be presented an Historical Play, called the Life and Death of

KING RICHARD THE THIRD, containing the distresses of King Henry VI.

The artful acquisition of the Crown by KING RICHARD,

The murder of the young King Edward V. and his brother, in the Tower.

The landing of the Earl of Richmond,

And the death of King Richard in the memorable battle of Bosworth Field, being the last that was fought between the Houses of York and Lancaster.

With many other true historical passages.

The part of KING RICHARD _by a Gentleman_.

(_Who never appeared on any stage._)

King Henry, by Mr. Giffard; Richmond, Mr. Marshall; Prince Edward, by Miss Hippisley; Duke of York, Miss Naylor; Duke of Buckingham, Mr. Peterson; Duke of Norfolk, Mr. Blades; Lord Stanley, Mr. Pagett; Oxford, Mr. Vaughan; Tressel, Mr. W. Giffard; Catesby, Mr. Marr; Ratcliff, Mr. Crofts; Blunt, Mr. Naylor; Tyrrell, Mr. Puttenham; Lord Mayor, Mr. Dunstall; The Queen, Mrs. Steel; Duchess of York, Mrs. Yates;

And the part of Lady ANNE,

By Mrs. GIFFARD.

With Entertainments of Dancing

By Mons. Fromet, Madam Duvall, and the two Masters and Miss Granier.

To which will be added a _Ballad Opera_ of one act, called

THE VIRGIN UNMASK’D.

The part of Lucy by Miss HIPPISLEY.

Both of which will be performed gratis by persons for their diversion.

The Concert will begin exactly at six o’clock.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 51·10.

~October 20.~

WRESTLING.

A writer in a journal of this month, 1826,[390] gives the following account of several wrestling matches between men of Devonshire and Cornwall, on the 19th 20th and 21st of September preceding, at the Eagle-tavern-green, City-road. He says, “the difference in the style of wrestling of these two neighbouring shires, is as remarkable as that of the lineaments of their inhabitants. The florid chubby-faced Devon-man is all life and activity in the ring, holding himself erect, and offering every advantage to his opponent. The sallow sharp-featured Cornwall-man is all caution and resistance, bending himself in such a way, that his legs are inaccessible to his opponent, and waiting for the critical instant, when he can spring in upon his impatient adversary.”

The account of the matches at the Eagle-tavern then proceeds in the following manner:--

The contest between Abraham Cann and Warren, not only displayed this difference of style, but was attended with a degree of suspense between skill and strength, that rendered it extremely interesting.--The former, who is the son of a Devonshire farmer, has been backed against any man in England for 500_l._ His figure is of the finest athletic proportions, and his arm realizes the muscularity of ancient specimens: his force in it is surprising; his hold is like that of a vice, and with ease he can pinion the arms of the strongest adversary, if he once grips them, and keep them as close together, or as far asunder, as he chooses. He stands with his legs apart, his body quite upright, looking down good humouredly on his crouching opponent.--In this instance, his opponent Warren, a miner, was a man of superior size, and of amazing strength, not so well distributed however, throughout his frame; his arms and body being too lengthy in proportion to their bulk. His visage was harsh beyond measure, and he did not disdain to use a little craft with eye and hand, in order to distract his adversary’s attention. But he had to deal with a man as collected as ever entered the ring. Cann put in his hand as quietly as if he were going to seize a shy horse, and at length caught a slight hold between finger and thumb of Warren’s sleeve. At this, Warren flung away with the impetuosity of a surprised horse. But it was in vain; there was no escape from Cann’s pinch, so the miner seized his adversary in his turn, and at length both of them grappled each other by the arm and breast of the jacket. In a trice Cann tripped his opponent with the toe in a most scientific but ineffectual manner, throwing him clean to the ground, but not on his back, as required. The second heat began similarly, Warren stooped more, so as to keep his legs out of Cann’s reach, who punished him for it by several kicks below the knee, which must have told severely if his shoes had been on, according to his county’s fashion. They shook each other rudely--strained knee to knee--forced each other’s shoulders down, so as to overbalance the body--but all ineffectually.--They seemed to be quite secure from each other’s efforts, as long as they but held by the arm and breast-collar, as ordinary wrestlers do. A new grip was to be effected. Cann liberated one arm of his adversary to seize him by the cape behind: at that instant Warren, profiting by his inclined posture, and his long arms, threw himself round the body of the Devon champion, and fairly lifted him a foot from the ground, clutching him in his arms with the grasp of a second Anteæus.--The Cornish men shouted aloud, “Well done, Warren!” to their hero, whose naturally pale visage glowed with the hope of success. He seemed to have his opponent at his will, and to be fit to fling him, as Hercules flung Lycas, any how he pleased. Devonshire then trembled for its champion, and was mute. Indeed it was a moment of heart-quaking suspense.--But Cann was not daunted; his countenance expressed anxiety, but not discomfiture. He was off terra-firma, clasped in the embrace of a powerful man, who waited but a single struggle of his, to pitch him more effectually from him to the ground.--Without straining to disengage himself, Cann with unimaginable dexterity glued his back firmly to his opponent’s chest, lacing his feet round the other’s knee-joints, and throwing one arm backward over Warren’s shoulder, so as to keep his own enormous shoulders pressed upon the breast of his uplifter. In this position they stood at least twenty seconds, each labouring in one continuous strain, to bend the other, one backwards, the other forwards.--Such a struggle could not last. Warren, with the weight of the other upon his stomach and chest, and an inconceivable stress upon his spine, felt his balance almost gone, as the energetic movements of his countenance indicated.--His feet too were motionless by the coil of his adversary’s legs round his; so to save himself from falling backwards, he stiffened his whole body from the ankles upwards, and these last being the only liberated joints, he inclined forwards from them, so as to project both bodies, and prostrate them in one column to the ground together.--It was like the slow and poising fall of an undermined tower.--You had time to contemplate the injury which Cann the undermost would sustain if they fell in that solid, unbending posture to the earth. But Cann ceased bearing upon the spine as soon as he found his supporter going in an adverse direction. With a presence of mind unrateable, he relaxed his strain upon one of his adversary’s stretched legs, forcing the other outwards with all the might of his foot, and pressing his elbow upon the opposite shoulder. This was sufficient to whisk his man undermost the instant he unstiffened his knee--which Warren did not do until more than half way to the ground, when from the acquired rapidity of the falling bodies nothing was discernible.--At the end of the fall, Warren was seen sprawling on his back, and Cann whom he had liberated to save himself, had been thrown a few yards off on all-fours. Of course the victory should have been adjudged to this last. When the partial referree was appealed to, he decided, that it was not a fair fall, as only one shoulder had bulged the ground, though there was evidence on the back of Warren that both had touched it pretty rudely.--After much debating a new referree was appointed, and the old one expelled; when the candidates again entered the lists. The crowning beauty of the whole was, that the second fall was precisely a counterpart of the other. Warren made the same move, only lifting his antagonist higher, with a view to throw the upper part of his frame out of play. Cann turned himself exactly in the same manner using much greater effort than before, and apparently more put to it, by his opponent’s great strength. His share, however, in upsetting his supporter was greater this time, as he relaxed one leg much sooner, and adhered closer to the chest during the fall; for at the close he was seen uppermost, still coiled round his supine adversary, who admitted the fall, starting up, and offering his hand to the victor. He is a good wrestler too--so good, that we much question the authority of “The Times,” for saying that he is not one of the _crack_ wrestlers of Cornwall.--From his amazing strength, with common skill he should be a first-rate man at this play, but his skill is much greater than his countrymen seemed inclined to admit.--Certain it is, they destined him the first prize, and had Cann not come up to save the honour of his county, for that was his only inducement, the four prizes, by judiciously matching the candidates, would no doubt have been given to natives of Cornwall.

BLACKFORD, THE BACKSWORD PLAYER.

_To the Editor of the Every-Day Book._

Sir,--Your correspondent C. T. p. 1207, having given a description of “Purton Fair,” my grandmother and father born there, the birth-place of Anne Boleyn, I feel interested in the spot of my progenitors. C. T., speaking of old “Corey Dyne,” the gipsy, says a man named _Blackford_ was the most noted Backsword-player of his day. He bore off the prizes then played for in London, Bath, Bristol, and Gloucester. When very young, at Lyneham grammar-school, I recollect this frontispiece despoiler broke fourteen heads, one after another; in the fifteenth bout, however, he pretty nearly found his match in the person of Isaac Bushel, a blacksmith of this place, who could bite a nail asunder, eat a shoulder of mutton with appendages, or fight friend or foe for love or money. It was a saying, “Bushel could take enough to kill a dozen men;” nor was his head unlike his name: he was the village Wat Tyler.

When the Somerset youths played with the Wiltshire on a stage on Calne-green, two years since, one of Blackford’s descendants gave a feeling proof of head-breaking with other heads of this blood-letting art, in which stratagem is used to conceal the crimson gush chiefly by sucking. Like fencing, attitude and agility are the great assistants to ensure success in backsword-playing; the basket is also of great service to the receiving of blows, and protecting the muscles of the wrist. The greatest exploits remembered at Purton by the present memorialist, arose out of the “Coronation of George the Third.” All the festivities of the seasons were concentrated, and May games and Christmas customs, without regard to usage, in full exercise. The belfry was filled day after day; any one that could pull a rope might ring, which is no easy task; the bells are deep, and two or three men usually raise the tenor. Some of the Blackfords lie in Purton churchyard.

_October 5._

*, *, P.

* * * * *

The autumnal dress of a man in the fourteenth century is introduced, from the transcript of an illumination, in a manuscript which supplied the Spring and Summer dress of that age, before presented.

[Illustration]

And here as suitable to the season may be subjoined some lines by a correspondent.

AUTUMNAL FEELINGS.

_For the Every-Day Book._

The flowers are gone, the trees are bare, There is a chillness in the air, A damp that in the spirit sinks, Till the shudd’ring heart within me shrinks: Cold and slow the clouds roll past, And wat’ry drops come with the blast That moans, amid the poplars tall, A dirge for the summer’s funeral.

Every bird to his home has gone, Save one that loves to sing alone The robin;--in yon ruin’d tree He warbles sweetly, mournfully His shrill note comes upon the wind, Like a sound of an unearthly kind; He mourns the loss of his sunny bowers, And the silent haunts of happy hours.

There he sits like a desolate thing, With a dabbled breast and a dripping wing, He has seen his latent joys decline, Yet his heart is lighter far than mine; His task is o’er--his duty done, His strong-wing’d race on the wind have gone, He has nothing left to brood upon; He has still the hope of a friendly crumb When the wintry snow over earth shall come, And a shelter from the biting wind, And the welcome looks of faces kind.

I wander here amid the blast, And a dreary look I backward cast; The best of my years I feel are fled, And I look to the coming time with dread My heart in a desert land has been, Where the flower of hope alone was green; And little in life’s decline have I To expect from kindred’s sympathy. Like the leaves now whirl’d from yonder spray, The dreams I have cherish’d day by day, On the wings of sorrow pass away.

Yet I despair not--time will bring To the plumeless bird a new bright wing, A warmer breeze to the now chill’d flower, And to those who mourn a lighter hour; A gay green leaf to the faded tree, And happier days, I trust, to me. ‘Twas best that the weeds of sorrow sprung With my heart’s few flowers, while yet ’twas young, They can the sooner be destroy’d, And happiness fill their dreary void.

S. R. J.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 50·77.

[390] The London Magazine.

~October 21.~

BATTLE OF TRAFALGAR.

In a dreadful engagement off Cape Trafalgar, on the 21st of October, 1805, between the English fleet, consisting of twenty-seven sail of the line and four frigates, and the combined fleets of France and Spain, consisting of thirty-three sail and seven frigates, which lasted four hours, twenty sail of the enemy were sunk or destroyed, and the French commander-in-chief, (admiral Villeneuve,) with two Spanish admirals, were made prisoners. The gallant Nelson was wounded about the middle of the action, and died nearly at its close.--“Thus terminated the brilliant career of our peerless NAVAL HERO, who was, beyond dispute, preeminent in courage, in a department of the British service where all our countrymen are proverbially courageous: who, to unrivalled courage, united skill equally conspicuous and extraordinary; who, in consequence of these rare endowments, never led on our fleets to battle that he did not conquer; and whose name was a tower of strength to England, and a terror to her foes.”[391]

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 50·62.

[391] Butler’s Chronological Exercises.

~October 22.~

CHILD PLAYED FOR.

In October, 1735, a child of James and Elizabeth Leesh, of Chester-le-street, in the county of Durham, was _played for at cards_, at the sign of the Salmon, one game, four shillings against the child, by Henry and John Trotter, Robert Thomson, and Thomas Ellison, which was won by the latter, and delivered to them accordingly.[392]

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 49·97.

[Illustration: ~The Roman Station at Pancras.~

CÆSAR’S CAMP, CALLED THE BRILL.]

ROMAN REMAINS AT PANCRAS.

A former notice of some antiquities in this vicinity, seems to have occasioned the subjoined article on similar remains. Its initials will be recognised as those of a correspondent, whose communications have been acceptable, and read with interest.

ROMAN REMAINS AT PANCRAS.

SIR,--In the ninetieth number of your _Every-Day Book_, (the present volume, col. 1197-1204,) a very interesting article appeared on the subject of the Roman remains near Pentonville, and thinking you may be inclined to acquaint your readers with “Cæsar’s Camp” at St. Pancras, situate near the old church, which are likely in the course of a short time to be entirely destroyed by the rage for improvement in that neighbourhood, I forward you the following particulars.

The only part at present visible is the prætorium of Cæsar, which may be seen in the drawing that accompanies this, but the ditch is now nearly filled up. I visited the spot about a week ago, and can therefore vouch for its existence up to that time, but every thing around it begins to bear a very different aspect to what it did about two years back, when my attention was particularly called to the spot from having read Dr. Stukeley’s remarks on the subject. At that time I was able to trace several other vestiges, which are entirely destroyed by the ground having been since dug up for the purpose of making bricks.

The following extracts are taken from the second volume of Dr. Stukeley’s “Itinerary.” The plan of the camp is taken from the same work. I shall feel pleasure if you will call attention to it, as you have already to the Roman remains at Pentonville.

I am, Sir, yours respectfully,

S. G.

_October 9, 1826._

DR. STUKELEY’S ACCOUNT OF CÆSAR’S CAMP.

_October, 1758._

Cæsar’s camp was situate where Pancras church is--his prætorium is still very plain--over against the church, in the footpath on the west side of the brook; the vallum and the ditch visible; its breadth from east to west forty paces, its length from north to south sixty paces. When I came attentively to consider the situation of it, and the circumjacent ground, I easily discerned the traces of his whole camp. A great many ditches or divisions of the pastures retain footsteps of the plan of the camp, agreeable to their usual form, as in the plate engraved; and whenever I take a walk thither, I enjoy a visionary scene of the whole camp of Cæsar as described in the plate before us; a scene just as if beheld, and Cæsar present.

His army consisted of forty thousand men. Four legions with his horse. The camp is in length five hundred paces--the thirty paces beyond, for the way between the tents and vallum, (where a vallum is made,) amounts to five hundred and sixty; so that the proportion of length to breadth is as three to two.

This space of ground was sufficient for Cæsar’s army according to Roman discipline, for if he had forty thousand men, a third part of them were upon guard.

The front of the camp is bounded by a spring with a little current of water running from the west, across the Brill, into the Fleet brook. This Brill was the occasion of the road directly from the city, originally going alongside the brook by Bagnigge; the way to Highgate being at first by Copenhagen-house, which is straight road thither from Gray’s-inn-lane.

This camp has the brook running quite through the middle of it: it arises from seven springs on the south side of the hill between Hampstead and Highgate by Caen wood, where it forms several large ponds, passes by here by the name of Fleet, washes the west side of the city of London, and gives name to Fleet-street. This brook was formerly called the river of wells, from the many springs above, which our ancestors called wells; and it may be thought to have been more considerable in former times than at present, for now the major part of its water is carried off in pipes to furnish Kentish-town, Pancras, and Tottenham-court; but even now in great rains the valley is covered over with water. Go a quarter of a mile higher towards Kentish-town and you may have a just notion of its appearance at that place, only with this difference, that it is there broader and deeper from the current of so many years. It must further be considered that the channel of this brook through so many centuries, and by its being made the public north road from London to Highgate, is very much lowered and widened since Cæsar’s time. It was then no sort of embarrassment to the camp, but an admirable convenience for watering, being contained in narrow banks not deep. The breadth and length are made by long tract of time. The ancient road by Copenhagen wanting repair, induced passengers to make this gravelly valley become much larger than in Cæsar’s time. The old division runs along that road between Finsbury and Holborn division, going in a straight line from Gray’s-inn-lane to Highgate: its antiquity is shown in its name--Madan-lane.

The recovery of this noble antiquity will give pleasure to a British antiquary, especially an inhabitant of London, whereof it is a singular glory. It renders the walk over the beautiful fields to the Brill doubly agreeable, when at half a mile distance we can tread in the very steps of the Roman camp master, and of the greatest of the Roman generals.

We need not wonder that the traces of this camp so near the metropolis are so nearly worn out; we may rather wonder that so much is left, when a proper sagacity in these matters may discern them, and be assured that somewhat more than three or four sorry houses are commemorated under the name of the Brill, (_now called Brill-place-Terrace_;) nor is it unworthy of remark, as an evident confirmation of our system, that all the ditches and fences now upon the ground, have a manifest respect to the principal members of the original plan of the camp.

In this camp Cæsar made the two British kings friends--Casvelham and his nephew Mandubrace.

I judge I have performed my promise in giving an account of this greatest curiosity, so illustrious a monument of the greatest of the Roman generals, which has withstood the waste of time for more than eighteen centuries, and passed unnoticed but half a mile off the metropolis. I shall only add this observation, that when I came to survey this plot of ground to make a map of it by pacing, I found every where even and great numbers, and what I have often formerly observed in Roman works; whence we may safely affirm the Roman camp master laid out his works by pacing.[393]

* * * * *

With the hope that the preceding article may draw attention to the subject, the editor defers remark till he has been favoured with communications from other hands.

THE ANTIQUARY.

The following lines were written by an old and particular friend of the erudite individual who received them:--

TO RICHARD GOUGH, ESQ.

_O tu severi Religio loci!_

Hail, genius of this littered study! Or tell what name you most delight in For sure where all the ink is muddy, And no clean margin left to write in, No common deity resides. We see, we feel thy power divine, In every tattered folio’s dust, Each mangled manuscript is thine, And thine the antique helmet’s rust. Nor less observed thy power presides Where plundered brasses crowd the floor, Or dog’s-eared drawings burst their binding Hid by Confusion’s puzzling door Beyond the reach of mortal finding. Than if beneath a costly roof Each moulding edged by golden fillet, The Russian binding, insect proof, Blushed at the foppery of ------ Give me, when tired by dust and sun, If rightly I thy name invoke, The bustle of the town to shun, And breathe unvext by city smoke. But, ah! if from these cobwebbed walls, And from this moth-embroidered cushion, Too fretful Fortune rudely calls, Resolved the cares of life to push on-- Give me at least to pass my age At ease in some book-tapestried cell, Where I may turn the pictured page, Nor start at visitants’ loud bell.[394]

[392] Sykes’s Local Records, p. 79.

[393] Dr. Stukeley’s Itinerary.

[394] Dr. Porster’s Perennial Calendar.

~October 23.~

ST. SURIN.

St. Surin, or St. Severin, which is his proper name, is a saint held in great veneration at Bordeaux; he is considered as one of the great patrons of the town. It was his native place, but he deserted it for a time to go and preach the gospel at Cologne. When he returned, St. Amand, then bishop of Bordeaux, went out with a solemn procession of the clergy to meet him, and, as he had been warned to do in a vision, resigned his bishopric to him, which St. Surin continued to enjoy as long as he lived. St. Amand continued at Bordeaux as a private person; but surviving St. Surin, he was at his death restored to the station from which he had descended with so much gentleness and resignation. It is among the traditions of the church of St. Surin at Bordeaux, that the cemetery belonging to it was “consecrated by Jesus Christ himself, accompanied by seven bishops, who were afterwards canonized, and were the founders of the principal churches in Aquitaine.”[395]

* * * * *

On an oval marble in Egham church, Surrey, are the following lines written by David Garrick, to the memory of the Reverend Mr. Thomas Beighton who was vicar of that church forty-five years, and died on the 23d of October, 1771, aged 73.

EPITAPH.

Near half an age, with every good man’s praise, Among his flock the shepherd passed his days; The friend, the comfort, of the sick and poor, Want never knock’d unheeded at his door. Oft when his duty call’d, disease and pain Strove to confine him, but they strove in vain. All mourn his death: his virtues long they try’d: They knew not how they lov’d him till he died. Peculiar blessings did his life attend: He had no foe, and _Camden_ was his friend.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 48·00.

[395] Miss Plumptre.

~October 24.~

AN OCTOBER SUNDAY MORNING IN COCKNEYSHIRE.

_For the Every-Day Book._

“Vat’s the _time_, Villiam?”

“_Kevarter arter_ seven.”

The “Mirror of the Months” seems to reflect every object to the reader’s eye; but not having read more of that work than by extract, in the _Every-Day Book_, I think an addendum, _par hazard_, may not be without truth and interest.

Rise early,--be abroad,--and after you have inspired sufficient fog to keep you coughing all day, you will see Jewboys and girls with their fathers and mothers veering forth from the purlieus of Houndsditch with sweetmeats, “ten a penny!” which information is sung, or said, ten thousand times before sunset. Now Irishmen, (except there be a fight in Copenhagen fields,) and women, are hurrying to and from mass, and the poorest creatures sit near the chapels, with all their own infants, and those of others, to excite pity, and call down the morning smile of charity.--Now newsboys come along the Strand with damp sheets of intelligence folded under their arms in a greasy, dirty piece of thick (once) brown paper, or a suitable envelope of leather. Now water-cress women, or rather girls, with chubby babies hanging on one arm, and a flat basket suspended from the shoulder by a strap, stand at their station-post, near the pump, at a corner of the street.[396] Now mechanics in aprons, with unshorn, unwashed faces, take their birds, dogs, and pipes, towards the fields, which, with difficulty, they find. Now the foot and horse-guards are preparing for parade in the parks--coaches are being loaded by passengers, dressed for “a few miles out of town”--the doors of liquor-shops are in motion--prayers at St. Paul’s and Westminster are responded by choristers,--crowds of the lower orders create discord by the interference of the officious street-keeper--and the “Angel” and “Elephant and Castle” are surrounded by jaunty company, arriving and departing with horses reeking before the short- and long-stage coaches.--Now the pious missionary drops religious tracts in the local stands of hackney coachmen, and paths leading to the metropolis.--Now nuts and walnuts slip-shelled are heaped in a basket with some dozens of the finest cracked, placed at the top, as specimens of the whole:--bullace, bilberries, sliced cocoa-nuts, apples, pears, damsons, blackberries, and oranges are glossed and piled for sale so imposingly, that no eye can escape them.--Now fruiterers’ and druggists’ windows, like six days’ mourning, are half shuttered.--Now the basket and bell pass your house with muffins and crumpets.[397]--Placards are hung from newsvenders’, at whose taking appearances, gossips stand to learn the fate of empires, during the lapse of hebdomadal warfare.--Now beggars carry the broom, and the great thoroughfares are in motion, and geese and game are sent to the rich, and the poor cheapen at the daring butcher’s shop, for a scrag of mutton to keep company in the pot with the carrots and turnips.--Now the Israelites’ little sheds are clothed with apparel, near which “a Jew’s eye” is watching to catch the wants of the necessitous that purchase at second-hand.--Now eels are sold in sand at the bridges, and steam-boats loiter about wharfs and stairs to take up stray people for Richmond and the Eel-pie house.--The pedestrian advocate now unbags his sticks and spreads them in array against a quiet, but public wall.--Chesnuts are just coming in, and biscuits and cordials are handed amongst the coldstreams relieving guard at Old Palace Yard, where the bands play favourite pieces enclosed by ranks and files of military men, and crowds of all classes and orders.--Now the bells are chiming for church,--dissenters and methodists are hastening to worship--baker’s counters are being covered with laden dishes and platters--quakers are silently seated in their meetings,--and a few sailors are surveying the stupendous dome of St. Paul’s, under which the cathedral service is performing on the inside of closed iron gates.--Now the beadle searches public-houses with the blinds let down.--Now winter patterns, great coats, tippets, muffs, cloaks and pelisses are worn, and many a thinly-clad carmelite shivers along the streets. With many variations, the “_Sunday Morning_” passes away; and then artizans are returning from their rustication, and servants are waiting with cloths on their arms for the treasures of the oven--people are seeking home from divine worship with appetites and purple noses--‘beer’ is echoed in every circle,--and _post meridian_ assumes new features, as gravities and gaieties, in proportion to the weather, influence the cosmopolitan thermometer.

*, *, P.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 48·47.

[396] This is the only month in the year in which water-cresses are without spawn.

[397] In Bath, before _Sally Lunns_ were so fashionable, (their _origin_ I shall shortly acquaint you with) _muffins_ were cried with a song, beginning--

“Don’t you know the muffin man? Don’t you know his name? And don’t you know the muffin-man That lives in Bridewell-lane? &c.”

I reply, yes, I did know him, and a facetious little short fellow he was, with a face as pocked as his crumpets; but his civility gained him friends and competence,--virtue’s just reward.

~October 25.~

CRISPIN.

On this, the festival day of St. Crispin, enough has been already said[398] to show that it is the great holyday of the numerous brotherhood of cordwainers. The latter name they derive from their working in Spanish leather manufactured at Cordovan; their cordovan-ing has softened down into cordwaining.

SHOES AND BUCKLES.

The business of a shoemaker is of great antiquity. The instrument for cleaning hides, the shoemaker’s bristles added to the yarn, and his knife, were as early as the twelfth century. He was accustomed to hawk his goods, and it is conjectured that there was a separate trade for annexing the soles.[399] The Romans in classical times, wore cork soles in their shoes to secure the feet from water, especially in winter; and as high heels were not then introduced, the Roman ladies who wished to appear taller than they had been formed by nature, put plenty of cork under them.[400] The streets of Rome in the time of Domitian were blocked up by cobblers’ stalls, which he therefore caused to be removed. In the middle ages shoes were cleaned by washing with a sponge; and oil, soap, and grease, were the substitutes for blacking. Buckles were worn in shoes in the fourteenth century. In an Irish abbey a human skeleton was found with marks of buckles on the shoes. In England they became fashionable many years before the reign of queen Mary; the labouring people wore them of copper; other persons had them of silver, or copper-gilt; not long after shoe-roses came in.[401] Buckles revived before the revolution of 1689, remained fashionable till after the French revolution in 1789; and finally became extinct before the close of the eighteenth century.

* * * * *

In Robert Hegg’s “Legend of St. Cuthbert,” reprinted at the end of Mr. Dixon’s “Historical and Descriptive View of the city of Durham and its Environs,” we are told of St. Goodrick, that “in his younger age he was a pedlar, and carried his moveable shop from fair to fair upon his back,” and used to visit Lindisfarne, “much delighting to heare the monkes tell wonders of St. Cuthbert; which soe enflamed his devotion, that he undertooke a pilgrimage to the holy sepulchre; and by the advice of St. Cuthbert in a dreame, repayred againe to the holy land, and washing his feete in Jordan, there left his _shoes_, with a vow to goe barefoot all his life after.”

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 47·87.

[398] See vol. i. col. 1395.

[399] Fosbroke’s Ency. of Antiquities.

[400] Beckmann.

[401] Fosbroke.

~October 26.~

ROYAL DEBTS.

On this subject a curious notice is extracted from “the Postman, October 26-28, 1708”--viz.

_Advertisement._

The Creditors of King Charles, K. James, and K. William, having found out and discovered sufficient Funds for securing a perpetual Interest for 4 Millions, without burdening the people, clogging the Trade or impairing the Revenue; and all their debts not amounting to near that Sum; the more to strengthen their interest, and to find the greater favour with the Parliament, have agreed that the Army and Transports Debentures and other Parliament Debts may if they please, joyn with them, and it is not expected that any great Debts shall pay any Charge for carrying on this Act, until it be happily accomplished, and no more will be expected afterwards than what shall be readily agreed to before hand, neither shall any be hindered from taking any other measures, if there should be but a suspicion of miscarriage, which is impossible if they Unite their Interest. They continue to meet by the Parliament Stairs in Old Palace-yard, there is a Note on the Door, where daily attendance is given from 10 in the Morning till 7 at Night; if any are not apprehensive of the certainty of the Success, they may come and have full satisfaction, that they may have their Money if they will.

NELSON

The notice of the battle wherein this illustrious admiral received his death-wound, (on the 21st,) might have been properly accompanied by the following quotation from a work which should be put into the chest of every boy on his going to sea. It is so delightfully written, as to rivet the attention of every reader whether mariner or landsman.

“The death of Nelson was felt in England as something more than a public calamity: men started at the intelligence, and turned pale, as if they had heard of the loss of a dear friend. An object of our admiration and affection, of our pride and of our hopes, was suddenly taken from us; and it seemed as if we had never, till then, known how deeply we loved and reverenced him. What the country had lost in its great naval hero--the greatest of our own, and of all former times--was scarcely taken into the account of grief. So perfectly, indeed, had he performed his part, that the maritime war, after the battle of Trafalgar, was considered at an end: the fleets of the enemy were not merely defeated, but destroyed: new navies must be built, and a new race of seamen reared for them, before the possibility of their invading our shores could again be contemplated. It was not, therefore, from any selfish reflection upon the magnitude of our loss that we mourned for him: the general sorrow was of a higher character. The people of England grieved that funeral ceremonies, public monuments, and posthumous rewards, were all which they could now bestow upon him, whom the king, the legislature, and the nation, would alike have delighted to honour; whom every tongue would have blessed; whose presence in every village through which he might have passed would have awakened the church bells, have given schoolboys a holiday, have drawn children from their sports to gaze upon him, and ‘old men from the chimney corner’ to look upon Nelson, ere they died. The victory of Trafalgar was celebrated, indeed, with the usual forms of rejoicing, but they were without joy; for such already was the glory of the British navy, through Nelson’s surpassing genius, that it scarcely seemed to receive any addition from the most signal victory that ever was achieved upon the seas: and the destruction of this mighty fleet, by which all the maritime schemes of France were totally frustrated, hardly appeared to add to our security or strength; for while Nelson was living, to watch the combined squadrons of the enemy, we felt ourselves as secure as now, when they were no longer in existence.--There was reason to suppose, from the appearances upon opening the body, that, in the course of nature, he might have attained, like his father, to a good old age. Yet he cannot be said to have fallen prematurely whose work was done; nor ought he to be lamented, who died so full of honours, and at the height of human fame. The most triumphant death is that of the martyr; the most awful, that of the martyred patriot; the most splendid, that of the hero in the hour of victory: and if the chariot and the horses of fire had been vouchsafed for Nelson’s translation, he could scarcely have departed in a brighter blaze of glory.”[402]

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 48·25.

[402] Southey’s Life of Nelson.

~October 27.~

FLEET MARKET.

On the 27th of October, 1736, Mr. Robinson a carpenter, and Mr. Medway a bricklayer, contracted to build Fleet-market, by the following midsummer, for 3970_l._[403]

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 47·50.

[403] Gentleman’s Magazine.

~October 28.~

(St. Simon and St. Jude.)

“WARDENS!”

A correspondent says, that about, or before this time, it is the custom at Bedford, now abouts, for boys to cry baked pears in the town with the following stanza--

“Who knows what I have got? In a pot hot? Baked _Wardens_--all hot! Who knows what I have got?”

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 46·30.

~October 29.~

OCTOBER IN LONDON.

On looking into the “Mirror of the Months,” we find “a lively portraiture” of the season.--“October is to London what April is to the country; it is the spring of the London summer, when the hopes of the shopkeeper begin to bud forth, and he lays aside the insupportable labour of having nothing to do, for the delightful leisure of preparing to be in a perpetual bustle. During the last month or two he has been strenuously endeavouring to persuade himself that the Steyne at Brighton is as healthy as Bond-street; the _pavé_ of Pall Mall no more picturesque than the Pantiles of Tunbridge Wells; and winning a prize at one-card-loo at Margate, as piquant a process as serving a customer to the same amount of profit. But now that the time is returned when ‘business’ must again be attended to, he discards with contempt all such mischievous heresies, and reembraces the only orthodox faith of a London shopkeeper--that London and his shop are the true ‘beauteous and sublime’ of human life. In fact, ‘now is the winter of his discontent’ (that is to say, what other people call summer) ‘made glorious summer’ by the near approach of winter; and all the wit he is master of is put in requisition, to devise the means of proving that every thing he has offered to ‘his friends the public,’ up to this particular period, has become worse than obsolete. Accordingly, now are those poets of the shopkeepers, the inventors of patterns, ‘perplexed in the extreme; since, unless they can produce a something which shall necessarily supersede all their previous productions, their occupation’s gone.--It is the same with all other caterers for the public taste; even the literary ones. Mr. Elliston, [or his fortunate successor, if one there be,] ‘ever anxious to contribute to the amusement of his liberal patrons, the public,’ is already busied in sowing the seeds of a new tragedy, two operatic romances, three grand romantic melo-dramas, and half a dozen farces, in the fertile soil of those poets whom he employs in each of these departments respectively; while each of the London publishers is projecting a new ‘periodical,’ to appear on the first of January next; that which he started on the first of last January having, of course, died of old age ere this!”

BEGINNING OF “FIRES.”

In October, fires have fairly gained possession of their places, and even greet us on coming down to breakfast in the morning. Of all the discomforts of that most comfortless period of the London year which is neither winter nor summer, the most unequivocal is that of its being too cold to be without a fire, and not cold enough to have one. A set of polished fire-irons, standing sentry beside a pile of dead coals imprisoned behind a row of glittering bars, instead of mending the matter, makes it worse; inasmuch as it is better to look into an empty coffin, than to see the dead face of a friend in it. At the season in question, especially in the evening, one feels in a perpetual perplexity, whether to go out or stay at home; sit down or walk about; read, write, cast accounts, or call for the candle and go to bed. But let the fire be lighted, and all uncertainty is at an end, and we (or even one) may do any or all of these with equal satisfaction. In short, light but the fire, and you bring the winter in at once; and what are twenty summers, with all their sunshine (when they are gone,) to one winter, with its indoor sunshine of a sea-coal fire?[404]

* * * * *

Mr. Leigh Hunt, who on the affairs of “The Months” is our first authority, pleasantly inquires--“With our fire before us, and our books on each side, what shall we do? Shall we take out a life of somebody, or a Theocritus, or Dante, or Ariosto, or Montaigne, or Marcus Aurelius, or Horace, or Shakspeare who includes them all? Or shall we read an engraving from Poussin or Raphael? Or shall we sit with tilted chairs, planting our wrists upon our knees, and toasting the up-turned palms of our hands, while we discourse of manners and of man’s heart and hopes, with at least a sincerity, a good intention, and good nature, that shall warrant what we say with the sincere, the good-intentioned, and the good-natured?”--He then agreeably brings us to the _mantlepiece_. “Ah--take care. You see what that old looking saucer is, with a handle to it? It is a venerable piece of earthenware, which may have been worth, to an Athenian, about twopence; but to an author, is worth a great deal more than ever he could--deny for it. And yet he would deny it too. It will fetch his imagination more than ever it fetched potter or penny-maker. Its little shallow circle overflows for him with the milk and honey of a thousand pleasant associations. This is one of the uses of having mantlepieces. You may often see on no very rich mantlepiece a representative body of all the elements, physical and intellectual,--a shell for the sea, a stuffed bird or some feathers for the air, a curious piece of mineral for the earth, a glass of water with some flowers in it for the visible process of creation,--a cast from sculpture for the mind of man;--and underneath all, is the bright and ever-springing fire, running up through them heavenwards, like hope through materiality.”

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 46·02.

[404] Mirror of the Months.

~October 30.~

YEOMEN OF THE GUARD.

On this day in the year 1485, when king Henry VII. was crowned at Westminster, he instituted the body of royal attendants, called yeomen of the guard, who in later times acquired the appellation of “beef-eaters.”

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 47·17.

~October 31.~

HALLOW EVE.

The superstitious observances of this night, described in the former volume, are fast disappearing. In some places where young people were accustomed to meet for purposes of divination, and frequently frighten each other into fits, as of ancient custom, they have little regard to the old usages. The meetings on Hallow-eve are becoming pleasant merry-makings; the dance prevails till supper-time, when they take a cheerful glass and drink to their next happy meeting.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 47·62.

[Illustration: NOVEMBER.]

And, when November came, there fell Another limning in, to tell The month’s employment; which we see Providance was, for time to be. Now was the last loud squeaking roar Of many a mighty forest boar, Whose head, when came the Christmas days, Was crown’d with rosemary and bays, And so brought in, with shoutings long, And minstrelsy, and choral song.

*

We can now perceive the departure of “that delightful annual guest, the summer, under the agreeable _alias_ of autumn, in whose presence we have lately been luxuriating. We might, perhaps, by a little gentle violence, prevail upon her to stay with us for a brief space longer; or might at least prevail upon ourselves to believe that she is not quite gone. But we shall do better by speeding her on her way to other climes, and welcoming ‘the coming guest,’ gray-haired winter:”--nor can we do better at this moment than take “note of preparation,” for a grateful adieu to the year and welcome to the comer.

On ushering in the winter we recur to the “Mirror of the Months,” from whence we have derived so many delightful reflections, and take a few “looks” in it, for, perhaps, the last time. At this season last year it presented to us the evergreens, and now, with a “now,” we select other appearances.

* * * * *

Now--as the branches become bare, another sight presents itself, which, trifling as it is, fixes the attention of all who see it. I mean the _birds’ nests_ that are seen here and there in the now transparent hedges, bushes, and copses. It is not difficult to conceive why this sight should make the heart of the schoolboy leap with an imaginative joy, as it brings before his eyes visions of five blue eggs lying sweetly beside each other, on a bed of moss and feathers; or as many gaping bills lifting themselves from out what seems one callow body. But we are, unhappily, not all schoolboys; and it is to be hoped not many of us ever _have been_ bird-nesting ones. And yet we all look upon this sight with a momentary interest, that few other so indifferent objects are capable of exciting. The wise may condescend to explain this interest, if they please, or if they can. But if they do, it will be for their own satisfaction, not ours, who are content to be pleased, without insisting on penetrating into the cause of our pleasure.

* * * * *

Now, the _felling of wood_ for the winter store commences; and, in a mild still day, the measured strokes of the wood-man’s axe, heard far away in the thick forest, bring with their sound an associated feeling, similar to that produced by a wreath of smoke rising from out the same scene: they tell us a tale of

“Uncertain dwellers in the pathless wood.”

* * * * *

THE WOODMAN.

Far removed from noise and smoke, Hark! I hear the woodman’s stroke, Who dreams not as he fells the oak, What mischief dire he brews;

How art may shape his falling trees, In aid of luxury and ease:-- He weighs not matters such as these, But sings, and hacks, and hews.

Perhaps, now fell’d by this bold man, That tree may form the spruce sedan; Or wheelbarrow, where oyster Nan Oft runs her vulgar rig;

The stage, where boxers crowd in flocks; Or else a quack’s; perhaps, the stocks; Or posts for signs; or barber’s blocks, Where smiles the parson’s wig.

Thou mak’st, bold peasant, oh what grief! The gibbet on which hangs the thief, The seat where sits the grave lord chief, The throne, the cobler’s stall.

Thou pamper’st life in ev’ry stage, Mak’st folly’s whims, pride’s equipage; For children, toys; crutches, for age; And coffins for us all.

_C. Dibdin._

* * * * *

The “_busy flail_” too, which is now in full employment, fills the air about the homestead with a pleasant sound, and invites the passer-by to look in at the great open doors of the barn, and see the wheatstack reaching to the roof on either hand; the little pyramid of bright grain behind the threshers; the scattered ears between them, leaping and rustling beneath their fast-falling strokes; and the flail itself flying harmless round the labourers’ heads, though seeming to threaten danger at every turn; while, outside, the flock of “barn-door” poultry ply their ceaseless search for food, among the knee-deep straw; and the cattle, all their summer frolics forgotten, stand ruminating beside the half-empty hay-rack, or lean with inquiring faces over the gate that looks down into the village, or away towards the distant pastures.

* * * * *

Of the _birds_ that have hitherto made merry even at the approach of winter, now all are silent; all, save that one who now earns his title of “the household bird,” by haunting the thresholds and window-cills, and casting sidelong glances in-doors, as if to reconnoitre the positions of all within, before the pinching frosts force him to lay aside his fears, and flit in and out, silently, like a winged spirit. All are now silent except him; but _he_, as he sits on the pointed palings beside the door-way, or on the topmost twig of the little black thorn that has been left growing in the otherwise closely-clipt hedge, pipes plaintive ditties with a low _inward_ voice--like that of a love-tainted maiden, as she sits apart from her companions, and sings soft melodies to herself, almost without knowing it.

* * * * *

Some of the other small _birds_ that winter with us, but have hitherto kept aloof from our dwellings, now approach them, and mope about among the house-sparrows, on the bare branches, wondering what has become of all the leaves, and not knowing one tree from another. Of these the chief are, the hedge-sparrow, the blue titmouse, and the linnet. These also, together with the goldfinch, thrush, blackbird, &c. may still be seen rifling the hip and haw grown hedges of their scanty fruit. Almost all, however, even of those singing-birds that do not migrate, except the redbreast, wren, hedge-sparrow, and titmouse, disappear shortly after the commencement of this month, and go no one knows whither. But the pert house-sparrow keeps possession of the garden and courtyard all the winter; and the different species of wagtails may be seen busily haunting the clear cold spring-heads, and wading into the unfrozen water in search of their delicate food, consisting of insects in the _aurelia_ state.

* * * * *

Now, the _farmer_ finishes all his out-of-door work before the frosts set in, and lays by his implements till the awakening of spring calls him to his hand-labour again.

Now, the _sheep_, all their other more natural food failing, begin to be penned on patches of the turnip-field, where they first devour the green tops joyfully, and then gradually hollow out the juicy root, holding it firm with their feet, till nothing is left but the dry brown husk.

Now, the _herds_ stand all day long hanging their disconsolate heads beside the leafless hedges, and waiting as anxiously, but as patiently too, to be called home to the hay-fed stall, as they do in summer to be driven afield.

* * * * *

Now, cold _rains_ come deluging down, till the drenched ground, the dripping trees, the pouring eaves, and the torn ragged-skirted clouds, seemingly dragged downward slantwise by the threads of dusky rain that descend from them, are all mingled together in one blind confusion; while the few cattle that are left in the open pastures, forgetful of their till now interminable business of feeding, turn their backs upon the besieging storm, and hanging down their heads till their noses almost touch the ground, stand out in the middle of the fields motionless, like dead images.

Now, too, a single rain-storm, like the above, breaks up all the paths and ways at once, and makes home no longer “home” to those who are not obliged to leave it; while, _en revance_, it becomes doubly endeared to those who are.

* * * * *

_London_ is so perfect an antithesis to the country in all things, that whatever is good for the one is bad for the other. Accordingly, as the country half forgets itself this month, so London just begins to know itself again.--Its streets revive from their late suspended animation, and are alive with anxious faces and musical with the mingled sounds of many wheels.

Now, the shops begin to shine out with their new winter wares; though as yet the chief profits of their owners depend on disposing of the “summer stock,” at fifty per cent. under prime cost.

Now, the theatres, admonished by their no longer empty benches, try which shall be the first to break through that hollow truce on the strength of which they have hitherto been acting only on alternate nights.

Now, during the first week, the citizens see visions and dream dreams, the burthens of which are barons of beef; and the first eight days are passed in a state of pleasing perplexity, touching their chance of a ticket for the lord mayor’s dinner on the ninth.

Now, all the little boys give thanks in their secret hearts to Guy Faux, for having attempted to burn “the parliament” with “gunpowder, treason, and plot,” since the said attempt gives them occasion to burn every thing they can lay their hands on,--their own fingers included: a bonfire being, in the eyes of an English schoolboy, the true “beauteous and sublime of human life.”

ODE TO WINTER.

_By a Gentleman of Cambridge._

From mountains of eternal snow, And Zembla’s dreary plains; Where the bleak winds for ever blow And frost for ever reigns,

Lo! Winter comes, in fogs array’d, With ice, and spangled dews; To dews, and fogs, and storms be paid The tribute of the Muse.

Each flowery carpet Nature spread Is vanish’d from the eye; Where’er unhappy lovers tread, No Philomel is nigh.

(For well I ween her plaintive note, Can soothing ease impart; The little warblings of her throat Relieve the wounded heart.)

No blushing rose unfolds its bloom, No tender lilies blow, To scent the air with rich perfume, Or grace Lucinda’s brow.

Th’ indulgent Father who protects The wretched and the poor; With the same gracious care directs The sparrow to our door.

Dark, scowling tempests rend the skies, And clouds obscure the day; His genial warmth the sun denies, And sheds a fainter ray.

Yet blame we not the troubled air, Or seek defects to find; For Power Omnipotent is there, And ‘walks upon the wind.’

Hail! every pair whom love unites In wedlock’s pleasing ties; That endless source of pure delights, That blessing to the wise!

Though yon pale orb no warmth bestows, And storms united meet. The flame of love and friendship glows With unextinguish’d heat.

~November 1.~

All Saints.[405]

INSCRIPTIONS IN CHURCHES.

A remarkable colloquy between queen Elizabeth and dean Nowell at St. Paul’s cathedral on the 1st of November, 1561, is said to have originated the usage of inscribing texts of scripture in English on the inner side of the church-walls as we still see them in many parishes.

Her majesty having attended worship “went straight to the vestry, and applying herself to the dean, thus she spoke to him.”

_Q._ Mr. Dean, how came it to pass that a new service-book was placed on my cushion?

To which the dean answered:

_D._ May it please your majesty, I caused it to be placed there.

Then said the queen:

_Q._ Wherefore did you so?

_D._ To present your majesty with a new-year’s gift.

_Q._ You could never present me with a worse.

_D._ Why so, madam?

_Q._ You know I have an aversion to idolatry and pictures of this kind.

_D._ Wherein is the idolatry, may it please your majesty?

_Q._ In the cuts resembling angels and saints; nay, grosser absurdities, pictures resembling the blessed Trinity.

_D._ I meant no harm: nor did I think it would offend your majesty when I intended it for a new-year’s gift.

_Q._ You must needs be ignorant then. Have you forgot our proclamation against images, pictures, and Romish relics in churches? Was it not read in your deanery?

_D._ It was read. But be your majesty assured, I meant no harm, when I caused the cuts to be bound with the service-book.

_Q._ You must needs be very ignorant, to do this after our prohibition of them.

_D._ It being my ignorance, your majesty may the better pardon me.

_Q._ I am sorry for it: yet glad to hear it was your ignorance, rather than your opinion.

_D._ Be your majesty assured it was my ignorance.

_Q._ If so, Mr. Dean, God grant you his Spirit, and more wisdom for the future.

_D._ Amen, I pray God.

_Q._ I pray, Mr. Dean, how came you by these pictures?--Who engraved them?

_D._ I know not who engraved them,--I bought them.

_Q._ From whom bought you them?

_D._ From a German.

_Q._ It is well it was from a stranger. Had it been any of our subjects, we should have questioned the matter. Pray let no more of these mistakes, or of this kind, be committed within the churches of our realm for the future.

_D._ There shall not.

* * * * *

Mr. Nichols, after inserting the preceding dialogue, in “Queen Elizabeth’s Progresses,” remarks--

“This matter occasioned all the clergy in and about London, and the churchwardens of each parish, to search their churches and chapels: and caused them to wash out of the walls all paintings that seemed to be Romish and idolatrous; and in lieu thereof suitable texts, taken out of the holy scriptures, to be written.”

Similar inscriptions had been previously adopted: the effect of the queen’s disapprobation of pictured representations was to increase the number of painted texts.

* * * * *

Mr. J. T. Smith observes, that of these sacred sentences there were several within memory in the old church of Paddington, now pulled down; and also in the little old one of Clapham.

In an inside view of Ambleside church, painted by George Arnald, Esq. A. R. A. he has recorded several, which are particularly appropriate to their stations; for instance, that over the door admonishes the comers in; that above the pulpit exhorts the preacher to spare not his congregation; and another within sight of the singers, encourages them to offer praises to the Lord on high. These inscriptions have sometimes one line written in black, and the next in red; in other instances the first letter of each line is of a bright blue, green, or red. They are frequently surrounded by painted imitations of frames or scrolls, held up by boys painted in ruddle. It was the custom in earlier times to write them in French, with the first letter of the line considerably larger than the rest, and likewise of a bright colour curiously ornamented. Several of these were discovered in 1801, on the ceiling of a closet on the south side of the Painted Chamber, Westminster, now blocked up.

Others of a subsequent date, of the reign of Edward III. in Latin, were visible during the recent alterations of the house of commons, beautifully written in the finest jet black, with the first letters also of bright and different colours.

Hogarth, in his print of the sleeping congregation, has satirized this kind of church embellishments, by putting a tobacco pipe in the mouth of the angel who holds up the scroll; and illustrates the usual ignorance of country art, by giving three joints to one of his legs. The custom of putting up sacred sentences is still continued in many churches, but they are generally written in letters of gold upon black grounds, within the pannels of the fronts of the galleries.[406]

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 48·00.

[405] See vol. 1. col. 1421.

[406] Mr. J. T. Smith’s Ancient Topography of London, 4to p. 11.

~November 2.~

All Souls.[407]

Naogeorgus in his satire, the “Popish Kingdome,” has a “description which” Dr Forster says “is grossly exaggerated, like many other accounts of catholics written by protestants.” If the remark be fair, it is fair also to observe that many accounts of protestants written by catholics are equally gross in their exaggerations. It would be wiser, because it would be honest, were each to relate truth of the other, and become mutually charitable, and live like christians. How far Naogeorgus misrepresented the usages of the Romish churchmen in his time, it would not be easy to prove; nor ought his lines which follow in English, by Barnaby Googe, to be regarded here, otherwise than as homely memorials of past days.

_All Soulne Day._

For souls departed from this life, they also carefull bee; The shauen sort in numbers great, thou shalt assembled see, Where as their seruice with such speede they mumble out of hande, That none, though well they marke, a worde thereof can vnderstande. But soberly they sing, while as the people offring bee, For to releaue their parents soules that lie in miseree. For they beleeue the shauen sort, with dolefull harmonie, To draw the damned soules from hell, and bring them to the skie; Where they but onely here regarde, their belly and their gaine, And neuer troubled are with care of any soule in paine. Their seruice thus in ordering, and payde for masse and all, They to the tauerne streightways go, or to the parsons hall, Where all the day they drinke and play, and pots about do walk, &c.

OLD HOB.

T. A. communicates that there is a custom very common in Cheshire called _Old Hob_: it consists of a man carrying a dead horse’s head, covered with a sheet, to frighten people. This frolic is usual between All Soul’s day and Christmas.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 47·37.

[407] See vol. i. col. 1423.

~November 3.~

THE BECKFORD FAMILY.

On the 3d of November, 1735, Peter Beckford, Esq. died in Jamaica, worth three hundred thousand pounds.[408] His direct male ancestor, served in a humble capacity in the armament under Penn and Venables, which captured that important island. Mr. Peter Beckford was father of the celebrated alderman Beckford, whose fortune enabled him to purchase the landed estate of the Meroyns in Wiltshire, which, till lately, formed a distinguished part of the possessions of the present Mr. Beckford.

* * * * *

A correspondent communicates a pleasant account of a wake in Wiltshire, during the present month.

CLACK FALL FAIR.

“See, neighbours, what Joe Ody’s doing.”

The township of Clack stands on an eminence which gives a view of twenty miles round a part of the most beautiful county of Wilts.[409] Clack is attached to Bradenstoke-priory, remarkable for its forest, and the reception of the monks of St. Augustine. Many vestiges remain of the splendour of this abbey, which is now a large farm, and stone coffins have been found here. A carpenter in this neighbourhood recently digging a hole for the post to a gate, struck his spade against a substance which proved to be gold, and weighed two ounces: it was the image of a monk in the posture of prayer, with a a book open before him. A subterraneous passage once led from this place to Malmsbury-abbey, a distance of seven miles. At this ruin, when a boy, I was shown the stone upon which the blood is said to have been spilt by a school-master, who, in a passion, killed his pupil with a penknife.

Clack spring and fall Fairs were well attended formerly. They were held for horses, pigs, cows, oxen, sheep, and shows; but especially for the “hiring servants.” Hamlet’s words,--“Oh, what a _fall_ing off is here!” may not inappropriately be applied. Old Michaelmas-day is the time the fall fair is kept, but, really, every thing which constitutes a fair, seemed this year to be absent. A few farmers strolled up and down the main street in their boots, and took refuge in the hospitable houses; a few rustics waited about the “Mop” or “Statue” in their clean frocks twisted round their waists with their best clothes on; a few sellers of cattle looked round for customers, with the _pike_ tickets in their hats; and a few maid servants placed themselves in a corner to be hired: here, there was no want of _Clack_, for many were raised in stature by their pattens and rather towering bonnets; and a few agriculturists’ daughters and dames, in whom neither scarcity of money nor apparel were visible, came prancing into the courts of their friends and alighting at the uppingstocks, and dashed in among the company with true spirit and _bon hommie_.

Clack fair was worth gazing at a few years ago. When Joe Ody,[410] the _stultum ingenium_, obtained leave to _show_ forth in the Blindhouse by conjuring rings off women’s fingers, and finding them in men’s pockets, eating fire and drawing yards of ribands out of his mouth, giving shuffling tricks with cards, to ascertain how much money was in the ploughman’s yellow purse, cutting off cock’s heads, pricking in the garter for love tokens, giving a chance at the “black cock or the white cock,” and lastly, raising the devil, who carries off the cheating parish baker upon his back. These, indeed, were fine opportunities for old women to talk about, when leaning over the hatch of the front door, to gossip with their ready neighbours in the same position opposite, while their goodmen of the house, sat in the porch chuckling with “pipe in one hand and jug in the other.” Then the “learned dog” told person’s names by _letters_; and here I discovered the secret of this canine sapiency, the master twitched his thumb and finger for the letter at which the dog stopped. I posed, master and dog, however, by giving my christian name “Jehoiada.” A word no fair scholar could readily spell; this shook the faith of many gaping disciples. The “poney” too was greatly admired for telling which lassie loved her morning bed, which would be first married, and which youth excelled in kissing a girl in a sly corner. The being “ground _young_ again,” no less enlivened the spirits of maiden aunts, and the seven tall single sisters; then the pelican put its beak on the child’s head for a night cap, and the monkeys and bears looked, grimaced and danced, to the three dogs in red jackets, with short pipes in their mouths; and the “climbing cat” ascended the “maypole,” and returned into its master’s box at a word. This year’s attractions chiefly were three booths for gingerbread and hard ware--a raree show! a blind fidler--the E. O. table--the birds, rats, and kittens in one cage--and a song sung here and there, called the “Bulleyed Farmers,” attributed to Bowles of Bremhill, but who disclaimed like Coleridge, the authorship of a satiric production.

Thus, fairs, amusements and the works of mortals, pass away--one age dies, another comes in its stead--but who will secure the sports of ancestry inviolate? who search into the workings of the illiterate, and hand them down to posterity, without the uncertain communication of oral tradition, which often obscures the light intended to be conveyed for information.--Thanks be to the art of printing, to the cultivation of reading, and the desire which accompanies both.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 44·40.

[408] Gentleman’s Magazine.

[409] There is a very old stanza known here, which though it gives no favourable mention of Clack, couples many surrounding places well known--

“White Cliff--Pepper Cliff--Cliff and Cliff Ancey, Lyneham and lo--e Clack, C--se Malford[411] and Dauncey.”

[410] A native of this part, and at the top of _Merry-Andrewism_.

[411] Christian Malford, no doubt, was a _bad_ ford for the monks that came down the Avon to the surrounding abbeys.

~November 4.~

KING WILLIAM LANDED.

On the day appointed for the commemoration of the landing of king William III. (who in fact landed on the 5th[412]) it may be worth notice, that its centenary in 1788 is thus mentioned in the “Public Advertiser” of that year--“This day is appointed to commemorate an event, which, if deserving commemoration, ought _never_ to be forgotten, and yet it is probable it will produce as much good moral or political effect as the events which distinguish Christmas, Good Friday, or Easter, from other days of the year. However, we are not disposed to quarrel with the scheme, the events of a day are few, the remembrance cannot be long. In the City, in Westminster, and in many of the principal towns in England, societies have been formed, cards of invitation sent, sold and bought, and grand dinners are prepared, and have this day been devoured with keen revolution appetites. Not to exclude the females, in some places balls are given; and that the religious may not wholly be disappointed, revolution sermons were this morning preached in several chapels and meeting-houses. Scotland is not behind hand in zeal upon this occasion, although a little so in point of time. To-morrow is their day of commemoration. Over all the kingdom a day of thanksgiving is appointed.”

KING WILLIAM’S PEERS.

_For the Every-Day Book._

The essential services of king William III. to the cause of civil and religious liberty, his perseverance and prowess as a warrior, his shrewdness and dexterity as a statesman, adapting the most conciliatory means to the most patriotic ends, have been repeatedly dilated on, and generally acknowledged. Here, is merely purposed to be traced how he exercised one of the most exclusive, important, and durable prerogatives of an English monarch, by a brief recapitulation of such of his additions and promotions in the hereditory branch of our legislature as still are in existence.

The ancestor of the duke of Portland was count Bentinck, a Dutchman, of a family still of note in Holland; he had been page of honour to king William, when he was only prince of Orange. He made him groom of the stole, privy purse, a lieutenant-general in the British army, colonel of a regiment of Dutch horse in the British pay, one of the privy-council, master of the horse, baron of Cirencester, viscount Woodstock, and earl of Portland, and afterwards ambassador extraordinary to the court of France. His son was made duke of Portland, and governor of Jamaica, by George I.

William Henry Nassau, commonly called seigneur, or lord of Zuletstein in Holland, was another follower of the fortunes of king William; he was related to his majesty, his father having been a natural son of the king’s grandfather. He was in the year 1695 created baron of Enfield, viscount Tunbridge, and earl of Rochfort.

Arnold Joost Van Keppel, another of Williams’s followers, was the second son of Bernard Van Pallant, lord of the manor of Keppel in Holland, a

## particular favourite of his majesty, who, soon after his accession to

the throne, created him baron of Ashford, viscount Bury, and earl of Albemarle.

Earl Cowper is indebted for his barony of Wingham to queen Anne, and for his further titles of viscount Fordwich, and earl Cowper, to George I.; but he derives no inconsiderable portion of his wealth from his ancestress in the female line, lady Henrietta, daughter and heiress of the earl of Grantham, descended from monsieur d’Auverquerque, who was by that prince raised to the dignity of an English earl, by the title of Grantham, being representative of an illegitimate son of the celebrated shadthalder, prince Maurice.

The heroic marshal Schomberg, who fell in the memorable battle of the Boyne when upwards of eighty years of age, had previously been created by king William, a duke both in England and Ireland. His titles are extinct, but his heir general is the present duke of Leeds, who is at the same time heir male to the celebrated earl of Danby, who cuts so conspicuous a figure in the annals of Charles II., and was by William III. advanced to a dukedom.

The dukedom of Bolton was conferred by William on the marquis of Winchester, whose ancestors had for a century stood enrolled as premier marquisses of England.

Long before they were advanced by William III. to dukedoms, the houses of Russell and Cavendish had been noted as two of the most historical families in the English peerage. Their earldoms were respective creations of Edward VI. and James I. The individual of each house first ennobled, died possessed of the bulk of the extensive landed possessions, and strong parliamentary influence with which his representative is at the present moment invested.

The character and military achievements of John Churchill stand so preeminent in the history of Europe, that it need here only be remarked that from a baron, king William conferred on him the earldom of Marlborough, again advanced by queen Anne to a dukedom, carried on by act of parliament, after his victory of Blenheim, to the issue male of his daughters, and now vested in the noble family of Spencer, earl of Sunderland.

Lord Lumley, advanced to the earldom of Scarborough, was one of the memorable seven who signed the original letter of invitation to the prince of Orange.

Lord Coventry, descended from a lord keeper of the great seal to Charles I., was promoted by William III. to an earldom.

Sir Edward Villiers, a courtier, of the same family as the celebrated duke of Buckingham, received the earldom of Jersey.

The families of Cholmondeley, Fermor, and Ashburnham, were each raised by William III. to the dignity of English barons. They were each of considerable antiquity and extensive possessions. Each was, moreover, peculiarly distinguished for devoted attachment to the cause of Charles I., even when it stood in the extremest jeopardy.

These baronies are now vested respectively in the marquis of Cholmondeley, and the earls of Pomfret and Ashburnham.

The possessions, the influence, the connections of the male representative of the able, the restless, the unfortunate sir Harry Vane, were still of weightier calibre. He received from king William the barony of Barnard, now vested in the earl of Darlington.

P.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 43·27.

[412] See vol. i. col. 1428.

~November 5.~

POWDER PLOT.

To keep alive the remembrance of this conspiracy, and in contemplation of its anniversary in 1826, a printed quarter sheet was published, “price one penny coloured, and one halfpenny plain.” It consists of a rude wood-cut of “a Guy,” carried about by boys, and the subjoined title with the accompanying verses.

* * * * *

QUICK’S NEW SPEECH FOR THE FIFTH OF NOVEMBER,

_On the Downfall of Guy Fawkes_.

Good gentlefolks, pray, Remember this day, To which your kind notice we bring Here’s the figure of sly Old villainous Guy, Who wanted to murder the king: With powder a store, He bitterly swore, As he skulk’d in the vault to prepare, How the parliament too, By him and his crew, Should all be blown up in the air. So please to remember the fifth of November, Gunpowder treason and plot; We know no reason why gunpowder treason Should ever be forgot.

But James all so wise, Did the papists surprise, Who plotted the cruelty great; He guessed their intent, And Suffolk was sent, Who sav’d both the kingdom and state. With a lantern was found, Guy Fawkes under ground, And quick was the traitor bound fast: They said he should die, So hung him up high, And burnt him to ashes at last. So please to remember, &c.

So we once a year, Go round without fear, To keep in remembrance the day: With assistance from you, To bring to your view, Guy Fawkes again blazing away: While with crackers and fire, In fullest desire, In his chair he thus merrily burns, So jolly we’ll be, And shout--may you see, Of this day many happy returns. So please to remember, &c.

Then hollo boys! hollo boys! shout and huzza, Hollo boys! hollo boys! keep up the day, Hollo boys! hollo boys! let the bells ring, Down with the pope, and God save the king. Huzza! Huzza! Huzza!

* * * * *

There was a publication in 1825, of similar character to the preceding. “Guy” was the subject of the cut, and the topic of the verses was a prayer for--

---------“a halfpenny to buy a faggot, And another to buy a match, And another to buy some touch paper, That the powder soon may catch.”

It contained the general averment--

“We know no reason, Why gunpowder treason Should ever be forgot.”

* * * * *

Though it is not requisite to relate more particulars of the “gunpowder treason” than have been already mentioned,[413] yet a friendly finger points to a passage in an old writer, concerning one of the conspirators, which is at least amusing:--“Some days before the fatal stroke should be given, Master Keys, being at Tichmersh, in Northamptonshire, at the house of Mr. Gilbert Pickering, his brother-in-law, (but of a different religion, as a true protestant,) suddenly whipped out his sword, and in merriment made many offers therewith at the heads, necks, and sides of many gentlemen and gentlewomen then in his company. This, then, was taken as a mere frolic, and for the present passed accordingly; but afterwards, when the treason was discovered, such as remembered his gestures, thought thereby he did act what he intended to do, (if the plot had took effect,) hack and hew, kill and slay, all eminent persons of a different religion to themselves.”[414]

* * * * *

A modern writer observes:--“It is not, perhaps, generally known, that we have a form of prayer for prisoners, which is printed in the ‘Irish Common Prayer-book,’ though not in ours. Mrs. Berkeley, in whose _Preface of Prefaces_ to her son’s poems I first saw this mentioned, regrets the omission, observing, that the very fine prayer for those under sentence of death might, being read by the children of the poor, at least keep them from the gallows. The remark is just. If there be not room in our prayer-book, we have some services there which might better be dispensed with. It was not very decent in the late abolition of holydays, to let the two Charleses hold their place, when the Virgin Mary and the saints were deprived of the red letter privileges. If we are to have any state service, it ought to be for the expulsion of the Stuarts. There is no other part of their history which England ought to remember with sorrow and shame. Guy Faux also might now be dismissed, though the _Eye of Providence_ would be a real loss. The Roman catholics know the effect of such prints as these, and there can be no good reason for not imitating them in this instance. I would have no prayer-book published without that eye of Providence in it.”[415]

PURTON BONFIRE.

_To the Editor of the Every-Day Book._

Dear Sir,--At almost every village in England, the _fifth of November_ is regarded in a very especial manner. Some pay greater attention to it than others, but I believe it is invariably noticed by all.

I have been present at Old Purton bonfire, and perhaps the following short notice of it may not be uninteresting.

I before stated (col. 1207) that the green, or close, at Purton, is the spot allotted for amusements in general. This is also the place for the ceremonies on this highly important day, which I am about to describe.

Several weeks before, the boys of the village go to every house begging faggots; and if they are refused they all answer together--

If you don’t give us one We’ll take two, The better for us, sir, And worse for you.

They were once refused by a farmer, (who was very much disliked by the poor for his severity and unkindness,) and accordingly they determined to make him repent. He kept a sharp look out over his faggot pile, but forgot that something else might be stolen. The boys got into his backyard and extracted a new pump, which had not been properly fixed, and bore it off in triumph to the green, where it was burnt amidst the loud acclamations of the young rogues generally.

All the wood, &c. which has been previously collected, is brought into the middle of the close where the effigy of poor Guy is burnt. A figure is made (similar to one of those carried about London streets,) intending to represent the conspirator, and placed at the top of a high pole, with the fuel all around. Previous to lighting it, poor Guy is shot at by all who have the happiness to possess guns for the purpose, and pelted with squibs, crackers, &c. This fun continues about an hour, and then the pile is lighted, the place echoes with huzzas, guns keep up perpetual reports, fireworks are flying in all directions, and the village bells merrily ring. The fire is kept up a considerable time, and it is a usual custom for a large piece of “real Wiltshire bacon” to be dressed by it, which is taken to the public-house, together with potatoes roasted in the ashes of the bonfire, and a jovial repast is made. As the fire decreases, successive quantities of potatoes are dressed in the embers by the rustics, who seem to regard them as the great delicacies of the night.

There is no restraint put on the loyal zeal of these good folks, and the fire is maintained to a late hour. I remember, on one occasion, hearing the guns firing as I lay in bed between two and three o’clock in the morning. The public-house is kept open nearly all night. Ale flows plentifully, and it is not spared by the revellers. They have a noisy chorus, which is intended as a toast to his majesty; it runs thus:--

My brave lads remember The fifth of November, Gunpowder treason and plot, We will drink, smoke, and sing, boys, And our bells they shall ring, boys, And here’s health to our king, boys, For he shall not be forgot.

Their merriment continues till morning, when they generally retire to rest very much inebriated, or, as they term it, “merry,” or “top heavy.”

I hope to have the pleasure of reading other communications in your interesting work on this good old English custom; and beg to remain,

Dear Sir, &c.

C. T.

_October 20, 1826._

* * * * *

If the collections formerly published as “State Poems” were to receive additions, the following from a journal of 1796, might be included as frolicsome and curious.

SONG ON THE FIFTH OF NOVEMBER.

Some twelvemonths ago, A hundred or so, The pope went to visit the devil, And if you’ll attend, You’ll find, to a friend, Old Nick can behave very civil.

How do’st do, quoth the seer, What a plague brought you here; I suppose ’twas some whimsical maggot-- Come draw tow’rds the fire, I pr’thee sit nigher; Here, sirrah, lay on t’other faggot.

You’re welcome to hell, I hope friends are well, At Paris, Madrid, and at Rome; But, since you elope, I suppose, honest pope, The conclave will hang out the broom.

All jesting aside, His Holiness cried, Give the pope and the devil their dues; Believe me, old dad, I’ll make thy heart glad For faith I have brought thee rare news.

There’s a plot to beguile An obstinate isle, Great Britain, that heretic nation, Who so slyly behav’d In hopes to be sav’d By the help of a curs’d reformation.

We shall never have done If we burn one by one, Nor destroy the whole heretic race; For when one is dead, Like the fam’d hydra’s head, Another springs up in his place.

Believe me, Old Nick, We’ll show them a trick, A trick that shall serve for the nonce, For this day before dinner, Or else I’m a sinner, We’ll kill all their leaders at once.

When the parliament sits And all try their wits In consulting of old mealy papers, We’ll give them a greeting Shall break up their meeting And set them all cutting their capers.

There’s powder enough And combustible stuff In thirty and odd trusty barrels; We’ll send them together The Lord can tell whither, And decide at one blow all their quarrels.

When the king and his son And the parliament’s gone, And the people are left in the lurch, Things will take their old station In yon cursed nation And I’ll be the head of the church.

These words were scarce said, When in popt the head Of an old jesuistical wight Who cried you’re mistaken They’ve all sav’d their bacon, And Jemmy still stinks of the fright.

Then Satan was struck, And cried ’tis ill luck, But you for your news shall be thanked, So he call’d at the door Six devils or more And toss’d the poor priest in a blanket.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 42·32.

[413] In vol. i. col. 1433.

[414] Fuller’s Church History.

[415] Dr. Aikin’s Athenæum.

~November 6.~

Michaelmas Term begins.

LEONARD.

St. Leonard is retained in the church of England calendar and almanacs, from his ancient popularity in Romish times. He is the titular saint of many of our great churches, and was particularly invoked in behalf of prisoners.

A list of holydays published at Worcester, in 1240, ordains St. Leonard’s festival to be kept a half-holyday, enjoins the hearing of mass, and prohibits all labour except that of the plough.

St. Leonard was a French nobleman in the court of Clovis I., where he was converted by St. Remigius, or Remy; became a monk, built an oratory for himself in a forest at Nobilac, near Limoges, lived on herbs and fruits, and formed a community, which after his death was a flourishing monastery under the name of St. Leonard le Noblat. He was remarkable for charity towards captives and prisoners, and died about 559, with the reputation of having worked miracles in their behalf.[416]

The legend of St. Leonard relates that there was no water within a mile of his monastery, “wherfore he did do make a pyt all drye, the which he fylled with water by his prayers--and he shone there by so grete myracles, that who that was in prison, and called his name in ayde, anone his bondes and fetters were broken, and went awaye without ony gaynsayenge frely, and came presentyng to hym theyr chaynes or yrens.”

It is particularly related that one of St. Leonard’s converts “was taken of a tyraunt,” which tyrant, considering by whom his prisoner was protected, determined so to secure him against Leonard, as to “make hym paye for his raunsom a thousand shyllynges.” Therefore, said the tyrant, “I shall go make a ryght grete and depe pyt vnder the erth in my toure, and I shall cast hym therin bounden with many bondes; and I shal do make a chest of tree vpon the mouth of the pyt, and shall make my knyghtes to lye therin all armed; and how be it that yf Leonarde breke the yrons, yet shall he not entre into it vnder the erth.” Having done as he said, the prisoner called on St. Leonard, who at night “came and turned the chest wherein the knyghtes laye armed, and closed them therein, lyke as deed men ben in a tombe, and after entred into the pyt with grete lyght,” and he spoke to the prisoner, from whom the chains fell off, and he “toke hym in his armes and bare hym out of the toure--and sette hym at home in his hous.” And other great marvels are told of St. Leonard as true as this.[417]

* * * * *

The miracles wrought by St. Leonard in releasing prisoners continued after his death, but at this time the saint has ceased from interposing in their behalf even on his festival; which, being the first day of Michaelmas term, and therefore the day whereon writs issued since the Trinity term are made returnable, would be a convenient season for the saint’s interposition.

This day the long vacation o’er, And lawyers go to work once more; With their materials all provided, That they may have the cause decided. The plaintiff he brings in his bill, He’ll have his cause, cost what it will; Till afterwards comes the defendant, And is resolved to make an end on’t. And having got all things in fitness, Supplied with money and with witness; And makes a noble bold defence, Backed with material evidence. The proverb is, one cause is good Until the other’s understood. They thunder out to little purpose, With certiorari, habeas corpus, Their replicandos, writs of error, To fill the people’s hearts with terror; And if the lawyer do approve it, To chancery they must remove it: And then the two that were so warm, Must leave it to another term; Till they go home and work for more, To spend as they have done before.

_Poor Robin._

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 43·40.

[416] Alban Butler.

[417] Golden Legend.

~November 7.~

ORIGIN OF THE LONDON GAZETTE.

On the 7th day of November, 1665, the first “Gazette” in England was published at Oxford; the court being there at that time, on account of the plague. On the removal of the court to London, the title was changed to the “London Gazette.” The “Oxford Gazette” was published on Tuesdays, the London on Saturdays: and these have continued, to be the days of publication ever since.

The word gazette originally meant a newspaper, or printed account of the transactions of all the countries in the known world, in a loose sheet or half sheet; but the term is with us confined to that paper of news now published by authority. It derived its name from gazetta, a kind of small coin formerly current at Venice, which was the usual price of the first newspaper printed there.[418]

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 42·92.

[418] Butler’s Chronological Exercises.

~November 8.~

LORD MAYOR OF LONDON.

On this day the chief magistrate elect of the metropolis is sworn into office at Guildhall, and to-morrow is the grand festival of the corporation.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 44·27.

~November 9.~

LORD MAYOR’S DAY.

This “great day in the calendar” of the city, is the subject of the following whimsical adaptation.

Now countless turbots and unnumbered soles Fill the wide kitchens of each livery hall: From pot to spit, to kettle, stew, and pan, The busy hum of greasy scullions sounds, That the fixed beadles do almost perceive The secret dainties of each other’s watch: Fire answers fire, and through their paly flames Each table sees the other’s bill of fare: Cook threatens cook in high and saucy vaunt Of rare and newmade dishes; confectioners, Both pastrycooks and fruiterers in league, With candied art their rivets closing up, Give pleasing notice of a rich dessert.

* * * * *

In the subjoined humorous account of a former civic procession and festival, there are some features which do not belong to the present celebrations.

LORD MAYOR’S DAY, 1773.

To describe the adventures and incidents of this important day in the city annals, it is very necessary to revert to the preceding evening. It is not now as it was formerly--

“That _sober_ citizens get _drunk_ by nine.”

Had Pope lived in the auspicious reign of George III., he would have indulged us at least two hours, and found a rhyme for _eleven_.

On the evening of the 8th of November, the stands of several livery companies clogged the passage of Cheapside and the adjacent streets. The night was passed in erecting the temporary sheds, sacred to city mirth, ruby gills, and round paunches. The earliest dawn of the morning witnessed the industry of the scavengers; and the broom-maker was, for once, the first patriot in the city.

This service done, repair we to Guildhall.

At five in the morning the spits groaned beneath the ponderous sirloins. These, numerous as large, proved that the “roast beef of Old England” is still thouht an ornament to our tables. The chandeliers in the hall were twelve in number, each provided with forty-eight wax candles; exclusive of which there were three large glass lamps, two globular lamps under the giants, and wax candles in girandoles. Hustings were raised at each end of the hall for the accommodation of the superior company, and tables laid through the centre for persons of lower rank. One advantage arose from the elevation at the west end of the hall, for the inscription under Beckford’s statue was thereby rendered perfectly legible. Tables were spread in the court of king’s-bench, which was provided with one chandelier of forty-eight candles. All the seats were either matted, hung with tapestry, or covered with crimson cloth, and the whole made a very noble appearance.

By eleven o’clock the windows from Blackfriars-bridge, to the north end of King street, began to exhibit such a number of angelic faces, as would tempt a man to wish for the honour of chief magistracy, if it were only to be looked at by so many fine eyes. There was scarce a house that could not boast a Venus for its tenant. At fifteen minutes past ten the common serjeant entered Guildhall, and in a few minutes the new lord-mayor, preceded by four footmen in elegant liveries of brown and gold, was brought into the hall in a superb sedan chair. Next came alderman Plomer, and then the recorder, who was so much afflicted with the gout, that it required the full exertion of his servant’s strength to support him. Mr. Alderman Thomas arrived soon after, then the two sheriffs, and lastly Mr. Crosby. There being no other alderman, Mr. Peckham could not be sworn into his office. At twenty minutes past eleven the lord mayor left the hall, being preceded by the city sword and mace, and followed by the alderman and sheriffs. The breakfast in the council chamber, at Guildhall, consisted of six sirloins of beef, twelve tureens of soup, mulled wines, pastry, &c. The late lord-mayor waited at the end of King-street to join the procession. As soon as his carriage moved, the mob began to groan and hiss, on which he burst into so immoderate a fit of laughter, evidently unforced, that the mob joined in one laughing chorus, and seemed to wonder what they had hissed at.

The procession by water was as usual, but rather tedious, as the tide was contrary. The ceremonies at Westminster-hall being gone through in the customary manner, the company returned by water to Blackfriars-bridge, where the lord-mayor landed at about three o’clock, and proceeded in solemn state to Guildhall, where the tables groaned beneath the weight of solids and dainties of every kind in season: the dishes of pastry, &c. were elegantly adorned with flowers of various sorts interspersed with bay-leaves; and many an honest freeman got a nose-gay at the city expense. A superb piece of confectionary was placed on the lord-mayor’s table, and the whole entertainment was splendid and magnificent. During the absence of the lord-mayor, such of the city companies as have not barges paraded the streets in the accustomed manner; and the man in armour exhibited to the delight of the little masters and misses, and the astonishment of many a gaping rustic. The lord-mayor appeared to be in good health and spirits, and to enjoy the applausive shouts of his fellow-citizens, probably from a consciousness of having deserved them. Mr. Gates, the city marshal, was as fine as powder and ribbons and gold could make him; his horse, too, was almost as fine, and nearly as stately as the rider. Mr. Wilkes came through the city in a chair, carried on men’s shoulders, just before the procession, in order to keep it up, and be saluted with repeated shouts. The lord-mayor’s coach was elegant, and his horses (long-tailed blacks) the finest that have been seen for many years. There were a great number of constables round Mr. Alderman Townsend’s coach; and a complaint has since been made, that he was grossly insulted. The night concluded as usual, and many went home at morning with dirty clothes and bloody faces.[419]

* * * * *

Some recent processions on lord-mayor’s day are sufficiently described by these lines:--

Scarce the shrill trumpet or the echoing horn With zeal impatient chides the tardy morn, When _Thames_, meandering as thy channel strays, Its ambient wave _Augusta’s_ Lord surveys: No prouder triumph, when with eastern pride The burnished galley burst upon the tide, Thy banks of Cydnus say--tho’ Egypt’s queen With soft allurements graced the glowing scene, Though silken streamers waved and all was mute, Save the soft trillings of the mellow lute; Though spicy torches chased the lingering gloom, And zephyrs blew in every gale perfume.

But soon, as pleased they win their wat’ry way, And dash from bending oars the scattered spray, The dome wide-spreading greets th’ exploring eyes, Where erst proud _Rufus_ bade his courts arise. Here borne, our civic chief the brazen store, With pointing fingers numbers o’er and o’er; Then pleased around him greets his jocund train, And seeks in proud array his new domain. Returning now, the ponderous _coach of state_ Rolls o’er the road that groans beneath its weight; And as slow paced, amid the shouting throng, Its massive frame majestic moves along, The prancing steeds with gilded trappings gay, Proud of the load, their sceptred lord convey.

Behind, their posts, a troop attendant gain, Press the gay throng, and join the smiling train; While _martial bands_ with nodding plumes appear, And waving streamers close the gay career.

Here too a _Chief_ the opening ranks display, Whose radient _armour_ shoots a beamy ray; So Britain erst beheld her troops advance, And prostrate myriads crouch beneath her lance: But though no more when threatening dangers nigh, The _glittering cuisses_ clasp the warrior’s thigh; Aloft no more the nodding _plumage_ bows, Or polished _helm_ bedecks his manly brows; A patriot band still generous Britain boasts, To guard her altars and protect her coasts; From rude attacks her sacred name to shield, And now, as ever, teach her foe to yield.

* * * * *

Mr. Alderman Wood on the first day of his second mayoralty, in 1816, deviated from the usual procession by water, from Westminster-hall to London, and returned attended by the corporation, in their carriages, through Parliament-street, by the way of Charing-cross, along the Strand, Fleet-street, and so up Ludgate-hill, and through St. Paul’s churchyard, to Guildhall: whereon lord Sidmouth, as high steward of the city and liberties of Westminster, officially protested against the lord-mayor’s deviation, “in order, that the same course may not be drawn into precedent, and adopted on any future occasion.”

* * * * *

During Mr. Alderman Wood’s first mayoralty he committed to the house of correction, a working sugar-baker, for having left his employment in consequence of a dispute respecting wages.--The prisoner during his confinement not having received personal correction, according to the statute, in consequence of no order to that effect being specified in the warrant of committal, he actually brought an action against the lord-mayor in the court of common pleas, for nonconformity to the law. It was proved that he had not been whipped, and therefore the jury were obliged to give a _farthing_ damages; but the point of law was reserved.[420]

* * * * *

On the 6th of September, 1776, the then lord-mayor of London, was robbed near Turnham-green in his chaise and four, in sight of all his retinue, by a single highwayman, who swore he would shoot the first man that made resistance, or offered violence.[421]

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 44·72.

[419] Gentleman’s Magazine.

[420] Ibid.

[421] Ibid.

~November 10.~

A FATHER’S WISHES.

Richard Corbet, bishop of Norwich, wrote the following excellent lines

TO HIS SON, VINCENT CORBET,

_On his Birth-day, November 10, 1630, being then three years old_.

What I shall leave thee none can tell, But all shall say I wish thee well I wish thee, Vin, before all wealth Both bodily and ghostly health: Nor too much wealth, nor wit, come to thee, So much of either may undo thee. I wish thee learning, not for show, Enough for to instruct, and know; Not such as gentlemen require, To prate at table, or at fire. I wish thee all thy mother’s graces, Thy fathers fortunes, and his places. I wish thee friends, and one at court, Not to build on, but support; To keep thee, not in doing many Oppressions, but from suffering any. I wish thee peace in all thy ways, Nor lazy nor contentious days; And when thy soul and body part, As innocent as now thou art.[422]

* * * * *

Bishop Corbet, a native of Ewell in Surrey, was educated at Westminster school, and Christchurch, Oxford; took the degree of M. A. in 1605, entered into holy orders, became doctor of divinity, obtained a prebend in the cathedral of Sarum, and other church preferment, and being a man of ready wit, was favoured by king James I., who made him one of his chaplains. In 1618, he took a journey to France, of which he wrote an amusing narrative. In 1627, his majesty gave him the deanery of Christchurch; in 1629, he was raised to the bishopric of Oxford, and in 1632, translated to that of Norwich. He died in 1635. The poems of bishop Corbet are lively and amusing compositions, such as might have been expected from a man of learning and genius, possessed of a superabundance of constitutional hilarity. The latter quality appears to have drawn him into some excesses, not altogether consistent with the gravity of his profession. After he was a doctor of divinity, being at a tavern in Abingdon, a ballad-singer came into the house, complaining that he could not dispose of his stock; the doctor, in a frolic, took off his gown, and assuming the ballad-singer’s leather jacket, went out into the street, and drew around him a crowd of admiring purchasers. Perhaps he thought he could divest himself of his sacerdotal character with his habit; for it seems he shut himself up in his well-stored cellar, with his chaplain, Dr. Lushington, and taking off his gown, exclaimed: “There goes the doctor;” then throwing down his episcopal hood, “there goes the bishop”--after which the night was devoted to Bacchus. Riding out one day with a Dr. Stubbins, who was extremely fat, the coach was overturned, and both fell into a ditch. The bishop, in giving an account of the accident, observed, that Dr. Stubbins was up to the elbows in mud, and he was up to the elbows in Stubbins. Bishop Corbet was not distinguished as a divine; his sentiments however were liberal, and he inclined to the Arminian party, which then began to prevail in the church of England.[423]

In the bishop’s lines “to his son on his birth-day,” there is something of the feeling in the wise man’s supplication, “Give me neither poverty nor riches.”

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 43·72.

[422] Bp. Corbet’s Poems, by Gilchrist.

[423] General Biographical Dictionary, 1826, vol. i.

~November 11.~

ST. MARTIN.

The customs of this festival, which is retained in the church of England calendar and almanacs, are related under the day in last year’s volume.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 44·40.

~November 12.~

ADMIRAL VERNON’S BIRTH-DAY.

To the mention of the pageant “at Chancery-lane end,” in honour of admiral Vernon on this day, in the year 1740,[424] may be added some ingenious verses commemorative of Vernon’s exploits. They were written in the same year by John Price, a land-waiter in the port of Poole, and are preserved in Mr. Raw’s “Suffolk Garland,” with the following introduction:--

ADMIRAL VERNON’S ANSWER TO ADMIRAL HOSIER’S GHOST.

In Dr. Percy’s “Reliques of Ancient Poetry,” vol. ii. p. 376. is an admirable ballad, intituled “Hosier’s Ghost,” being an address to admiral Vernon, in Porto-Bello harbour, by Mr. Glover, the author of Leonidas. The case of Hosier was briefly this:--

In April, 1726, he was sent with a strong fleet to the Spanish West Indies, to block up the galleons in the ports of that country; but being restricted by his orders from obeying the dictates of his courage, he lay inactive on that station, until he became the jest of the Spaniards. He afterwards removed to Carthagena, and continued cruizing in those seas, till far the greater part of his crews perished by the diseases of that unhealthy climate. This brave man, seeing his officers and men thus daily swept away, his ships exposed to inevitable destruction, and himself made the sport of the enemy, is said to have died of a broken heart. The ballad concludes--

“O’er these waves, for ever mourning, Shall we roam, depriv’d of rest, If to Britain’s shores returning, You neglect my just request:

After this proud foe subduing, When your patriot friends you see, Think on vengeance for my ruin, And for England--sham’d in me.”

In 1739, vice-admiral Vernon was appointed commander-in-chief of a squadron then fitting out for destroying the settlements of the Spaniards in the West Indies; and, weighing anchor from Spithead on the 23d of July, arrived in sight of Porto-Bello, with six ships only, under his command, on the 20th of November following. The next day he commenced the attack of that town; when, after a most furious engagement on both sides, it was taken on the 22d, together with a considerable number of cannon, mortars, and ammunition, and also two Spanish ships of war. He then blew up the fortifications, and evacuated the place for want of land forces sufficient to retain it; but first distributed ten thousand dollars, which had been sent to Porto-Bello for paying the Spanish troops, among the forces for their bravery.

The two houses of parliament joined in an address of congratulation upon this success of his majesty’s arms; and the nation, in general, was wonderfully elated by an exploit, which was certainly magnified much above its intrinsic merit.

Hosier! with indignant sorrow, I have heard thy mournful tale And, if heav’n permit, to-morrow Hence our warlike fleet shall sail. O’er those hostile waves, wide roaming, We will urge our bold design, With the blood of thousands foaming, For our country’s wrongs and thine.

On that day, when each brave fellow, Who now triumphs here with me, Storm’d and plunder’d Porto-Bello, All my thoughts were full of thee. Thy disast’rous fate alarm’d me; Fierce thy image glar’d on high, And with gen’rous ardour warm’d me, To revenge thy fall, or die.

From their lofty ships descending, Thro’ the flood, in firm array, To the destin’d city bending, My lov’d sailors work’d their way. Strait the foe, with horror trembling, Quits in haste his batter’d walls; And in accents, undissembling, As he flies, for mercy calls.

Carthagena, tow’ring wonder! At the daring deed dismay’d, Shall ere long by Britain’s thunder, Smoking in the dust be laid. Thou, and these pale spectres sweeping, Restless, o’er this watry round, Whose wan cheeks are stain’d with weeping, Pleas’d shall listen to the sound.

Still rememb’ring thy sad story, To thy injur’d ghost I swear, By my hopes of future glory, War shall be my constant care: And I ne’er will cease pursuing Spain’s proud sons from sea to sea, With just vengeance for thy ruin, And for England sham’d in thee.

* * * * *

As we are to-day on a naval topic, it seems fitting to introduce a popular usage among sailors, in the words of captain Edward Hall, R. N., who communicated the particulars to Dr. Forster, on the 30th of October, 1823.

CROSSING THE LINE.

The following is an account of the custom of shaving at the tub by Neptune, as practised on board vessels crossing the Equator, Tropics, and Europa Point. The origin of it is supposed to be very ancient, and it is commonly followed on board foreign, as well as British ships. Europa Point at Gibraltar being one of the places, it may have arisen at the time when that was considered the western boundary of Terra Firma.

On the departure of a vessel from England by either of the aforesaid routes, much ingenuity is exerted by the old seamen and their confederates to discover the uninitiated, and it is seldom that any escape detection. A few days previous to arriving at the scene of

## action, much mystery and reserve is observed among the ship’s company:

they are then secretly collecting stale soapsuds, water, &c., arranging the dramatis personæ, and preparing material. At this time, also, the novices, who are aware of what is going forward, send their forfeits to the captain of the forecastle, who acts as Neptune’s deputy; the forfeit is either a bottle of rum, or a dollar: and I never knew it refused, except from a cook’s mate who had acted negligently, and from a steward’s mate who was inclined to trick the people when serving provisions.

On board of a man-of-war it is generally performed on a grand scale. I have witnessed it several times, but the best executed was on board a ship of the line of which I was lieutenant, bound to the West Indies. On crossing the Tropic, a voice, as if at a distance, and from the surface of the water, cried “Ho, the ship ahoy! I shall come on board:” this was from a person slung over the bows, near the water, speaking through his hands. Presently two men of large stature came over the bows; they had hideous masks on: one personated Neptune--he was naked to his middle, crowned with the head of a huge wet swab, the ends of which reached to his loins to represent flowing locks; a piece of tarpaulin, vandyked, encircled the head of the swab and his brows as a diadem; his right hand wielded a boarding-pike manufactured into a trident, and his body was marked with red ochre to represent fish scales: the other personated Amphitrite, having locks also formed of swabs, a petticoat of the same material, with a girdle of red bunten; and in her hands a comb and looking-glass. They were followed by about twenty fellows, also naked to their middle, with red ochre scales as Tritons. They were received on the forecastle with much respect by the old sailors, who had provided the carriage of an eighteen-pounder as a car, which their majesties ascended, and were drawn aft along the gangway to the quarter-deck by the Tritons; when Neptune, addressing the captain, said he was happy to see him again that way, that he believed there were some Johnny Raws on board that had not paid their dues, and who he intended to initiate into the salt water mysteries. The captain answered, he was happy to see him, but requested he would make no more confusion than was necessary. They then descended on the main deck, and were joined by all the old hands, and about twenty barbers, who submitted their razors, brushes and suds to inspection; the first were made from old iron hoops jagged, the second from tar brushes, and the shaving suds from tar, grease, and something from the pigsty; they had also boxes of tropical pills procured from the sheep pen. Large tubs full of stale suds, with a movable board across each, were ranged around the pumps and engine, and plenty of buckets filled with water. Thus prepared, they divided themselves into gangs of a dozen each, dashed off in different directions, and soon returned with their subjects. The proceedings with each unlucky wight were as follows:--Being seated on a board across a tub of water, his eyes were quickly bandaged, his face lathered with the delightful composition; then a couple of scrapes on each side of the chin, followed by a question asked, or some pretended compassionate inquiry made, to get his mouth open, into which the barber either dashed the shaving-brush, or a pill, which was the signal for slipping the board from under the poor devil, who was then left to flounder his way out of the tub, and perhaps half drowned in attempting to recover his feet, by buckets of water being dashed over him from all quarters; being thus thoroughly drenched and initiated, I have often observed spirited fellows join their former persecutors in the remainder of their work. After an hour or two spent in this rough fun, which all seem to enjoy, Neptune disappears somewhere in the hold to unrobe, the decks are washed and dried, and those that have undergone the shaving business, oil or grease their chins and whiskers to get rid of the tar. This custom does not accord with the usual discipline of a man-of-war; but, as the old seamen look on it as their privilege, and it is only about an hour’s relaxation, I have never heard of any captain refusing them his permission.

E. H.[425]

* * * * *

A SEA-PIECE--IN THREE SONNETS

_Scene_--_Bridlington Quay._

At night-fall, walking on the cliff-crowned shore, When sea and sky were in each other lost, Dark ships were scudding through the wild uproar, Whose wrecks ere morn must strew the dreary coast; I mark’d one well-moor’d vessel tempest-tost; Sails reef’d, helm lash’d, a dreadful siege she bore, Her decks by billow after billow cross’d, While every moment she might be no more, Yet firmly anchor’d on the nether sand, Like a chain’d lion ramping at his foes, Forward and rearward still she plunged and rose, ’Till broke her cable;--then she fled to land, With all the waves in chase; throes following throes; She ’scaped,--she struck,--she struck upon the sand.

The morn was beautiful, the storm gone by; Three days had pass’d; I saw the peaceful main, One molten mirror, one illumined plane, Clear as the blue, sublime, o’er-arching sky. On shore that lonely vessel caught mine eye; Her bow was sea-ward, all equipt her train, Yet to the sun she spread her wings in vain, Like a maim’d eagle, impotent to fly, There fix’d as if for ever to abide: Far down the beach had roll’d the low neap-tide, Whose mingling murmur faintly lull’d the ear, “Is this,” methought, “is this the doom of pride, Check’d in the outset of thy proud career, Ingloriously to rot by piecemeal here?”

Spring-tides return’d, and fortune smiled; the bay Received the rushing ocean to its breast; While waves on waves innumerable press, Seem’d, with the prancing of their proud array, Sea-horses, flash’d with foam, and sporting spray: Their power and thunder broke that vessel’s rest; Slowly, with new-expanding life possest, To her own element she glid away; There, buoyant, bounding like the polar whale, That takes his pastime, every joyful sail Was to the freedom of the world unfurl’d, While right and left the parting surges curl’d. --Go, gallant bark, with such a tide and gale, I’ll pledge thee to a voyage round the world!

_Montgomery._

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 43·85.

[424] In vol. i. col. 1473.

[425] Perennial Calendar.

~November 13.~

Brit.[426]

THE “BRIDEWELL BOYS,” AND BARTHOLOMEW AND SOUTHWARK FAIRS.

On the 13th of November, 1755, at a court of the governors of Bridewell hospital, a memorable report was made from the committee, who inquired into the behaviour of the boys at Bartholomew and Southwark fairs, when some of them were severely corrected and continued, and others, after their punishment, were ordered to be stripped of the hospital clothing and discharged.[427]

The “bridewell-boys” were, within recollection, a body of youths distinguished by a particular dress, and turbulence of manners. They infested the streets to the terror of the peaceable, and being allowed the privilege of going to fires, did more mischief by their audacity and perverseness, than they did good by working the Bridewell engine. These disorders occasioned them to be deprived of their distinguishing costume, and put under proper arts’-masters, with ability to teach them useful trades, and authority to controul and regulate their conduct. The bridewell boys at this time are never heard of in any commotion, and may now, therefore, be regarded as peaceable and industrious lads.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 42·85.

[426] See vol. i. col. 1473.

[427] Gentleman’s Magazine.

~November 14.~

A TRIFLING MISTAKE.

The “Carbonari,” a political association in the Italian states, occasioned considerable disturbance to the continental governments, who interfered to suppress an order of persons that kept them in continual alarm: “His Holiness” especially desired their suppression.

An article from Rome, dated the 14th of November, 1820, says “Bishop Benvenuti, vice-legate at Macerata, having received orders from the holy father to have all the Carbonari in that city arrested and sent to Rome, under a good escort, proceeded forthwith to execute the order. In consequence he had all the colliers by trade (_Charbonniers de profession_) which he could find within his reach--men, women, and children, arrested, and sent manacled to Rome, where they were closely imprisoned. The tribunal having at length proceeded to examine them, and being convinced that these Carbonari had been colliers ever since they were born, acquitted them, and sent them to their homes. Bishop Benvenuti was deprived of his employment.”[428]

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 43·25.

[428] New Times.

~November 15.~

Machutus.[429]

HUNGERFORD REVEL, WILTS.

_To the Editor of the Every-Day Book._

_October 20, 1826._

Dear Sir,--In your last week’s number of the _Every-Day Book_, your correspondent *, *, P. gives a short account of Blackford, the backsword-player, and also mentions one of his descendants who signalized himself at the “Hungerford revel” about two years since. In the year 1820, I visited the latter revel; perhaps a description may be acceptable to you, and amusing to your readers.

I think it may be generally allowed that Wiltshire, and the western counties, keep up their primitive customs more than any counties. This is greatly to the credit of the inhabitants; for these usages tend to promote cheerful intercourse and friendly feeling among the residents in the different villages, who on such occasions assemble together. In Wiltshire I have remarked various customs, particularly at Christmas, which I have never seen or heard of in any other place. If these customs were witnessed by a stranger, I am sure he must fancy the good old days of yore, where every season brought its particular custom, which was always strictly adhered to.

Wiltshire consists of beautiful and extensive downs, and rich meadow and pasture lands, which support some of the finest dairies and farms that can be met with in the kingdom. The natives are a very strong and hardy set of men, and are particularly fond of robust sports; their chief and favourite amusement is backswording, or singlestick, for which they are as greatly celebrated as the inhabitants of the adjoining counties, Somersetshire and Gloucestershire.

At this game there are several rules observed. They play with a large round stick, which must be three feet long, with a basket prefixed to one end as a guard for the hand. The combatants throw off their hats and upper garments, with the exception of the shirt, and have the left hand tied to the side, so that they cannot defend themselves with that hand. They brandish the stick over the head, guarding off the adversary’s blows, and striking him whenever an opportunity occurs. Great skill is often used in the defence. I have seen two men play for upwards of half an hour without once hitting each other. The blood must flow an inch from some part of the head, before either party is declared victor.

Blackford, the backsword player, was a butcher residing at Swindon; he died a few years ago. His “successor” is a blacksmith at Lyddington, named Morris Pope, who is considered the best player of the day, and generally carries off the prizes at the Hungerford revel, which he always attends. This revel is attended by all the best players in Wiltshire and Somersetshire, between whom the contest lies. To commence the fray, twenty very excellent players are selected from each county; the contest lasts a considerable time, and is always severe, but the Wiltshire men are generally conquerors. Their principal characteristics are skill, strength, and courage--this is generally allowed by all who are acquainted with them.

But Hungerford revel is not a scene of contention alone, it consists of all kinds of rustic sports, which afford capital fun to the spectators. They may be laid out thus--

1st. _Girls running for “smocks,”_ &c., which is a well-known amusement at country fairs.

2d. _Climbing the greasy pole_ for a piece of bacon which is placed on the top. This affords very great amusement, as it is a difficult thing to be accomplished. The climber, perhaps, may get near the top of the pole, and has it in his power to hold himself up by both hands, but the moment he raises one hand to unhook the prize, he is almost sure to slide down again with great rapidity, bearing all below him who are so foolish as to climb after him.

3d. _Old women drinking hot tea for snuff._ Whoever can drink it the quickest and hottest gains the prize.

4th. _Grinning through horse-collars._ Several Hodges stand in a row, each holding a collar; whoever can make the ugliest face through it gains the prize. This feat is also performed by old women, and certainly the latter are the most amusing.

5th. _Racing between twenty and thirty old women for a pound of tea._ This occasions much merriment, and it is sometimes astonishing to see with what agility the old dames run in order to obtain their favourite.

6th. _Hunting a pig with a soaped tail._ This amusement creates much mirth, and in my opinion is the most laughable.--Grunter with his tail well soaped is set off at the foot of a hill, and is quickly pursued; but the person who can lay any claim to him must first catch him by the tail, and fairly detain him with one hand. This is an almost impossible feat, for the pig finding himself pulled back, tries to run forward, and the tail slips from the grasp of the holder. It is pretty well known that such is the obstinate nature of a pig, that on being pulled one way he will strive all he can to go a contrary. In illustration of this circumstance, though known perhaps to some of your readers, I may mention a curious wager a few years ago between a pork butcher and a waterman. The butcher betted the waterman that he would make a pig run over one of the bridges, (I forget which,) quicker than the waterman would row across the river. The auditors thought it impossible; the bet was eagerly accepted, and the next day was appointed for the performance. When the signal for starting was given, the waterman began to row with all his might and main, and the butcher catching hold of the tail of the pig endeavoured to pull him back, upon which the pig pulled forward, and with great rapidity ran over the bridge, pulling the butcher after him, who arrived on the opposite side before his opponent.

7th. _Jumping in sacks for a cheese._ An excellent caricature of jumping in sacks, published by Hunt, in Tavistock-street, conveys a true idea of the manner in which this amusement is carried on: it is truly laughable. Ten or eleven candidates are chosen; they are tied in sacks up to their necks, and have to jump about five hundred yards. Sometimes one will out-jump himself and fall; this accident generally occasions the fall of three or four others, but some one, being more expert, gets on first, and claims the prize.

About ten years ago, before Cannon the prize-fighter was publicly known, as a native of Wiltshire he naturally visited the Hungerford revel. There was a man there celebrated over the county for boxing; it was said that with a blow from his fist he could break the jaw-bone of an ox; upon the whole he was a desperate fellow, and no one dared challenge him to _fight_. Cannon, however, challenged him to _jump_ in sacks. It was agreed that they should jump three times the distance of about five hundred yards. The first time Cannon fell, and accordingly his opponent won; the second time, Cannon’s opponent fell, and the third time they kept a pretty even pace for about four hundred yards, when they bounced against each other and both fell, so that there was a dispute who had won. Cannon’s opponent was for dividing the cheese, but he would not submit to that, and proposed jumping again; the man would not, but got out of the sack, and during the time that Cannon was consulting some friends on the course to be pursued, ran off with the cheese. Cannon, however, pursued, and after a considerable time succeeded in finding him. He then challenged him to fight: the battle lasted two hours, and Cannon was victor. This circumstance introduced him to the sporting world.

You must allow me, dear sir, to assure you, that it is not my wish to make your interesting work a “sporting calendar,” by naming “sporting characters.” I tell you this lest you should not incline to read further, especially when you see.

8th. _Donkey Racing._ I will certainly defy any one to witness these races, without being almost convulsed with laughter. Each candidate rides his neighbour’s donkey, and he who arrives first at the appointed place claims the prize, which is generally a smock-frock, a waistcoat, a hat, &c. &c.

9th. _Duck Hunting._ This sport generally concludes the whole: it is a very laughable, but certainly a very cruel amusement. They tie a poor unfortunate owl in an upright position, to the back of a still more unfortunate duck, and then turn them loose. The owl presuming that his inconvenient captivity is the work of the duck, very unceremoniously commences an attack on the head of the latter, who naturally takes to its own means of defence, the water: the duck dives with the owl on his back; as soon as he rises, the astonished owl opens wide his eyes, turns about his head in a very solemn manner, and suddenly recommences his attack on the oppressed duck, who dives as before. The poor animals generally destroy each other, unless some humane person rescues them.

Like all other Wiltshire amusements, the Hungerford revel always closes with good humour and conviviality; the ale flowing plentifully, and the song echoing loud and gaily from the rustic revellers. Although the revel is meant to last only one day, the very numerous attendants keep up the minor sports sometimes to the fourth day, when all depart, and Hungerford is once more a scene of tranquility.

The revel takes place about this time of the year, but I really cannot call to my recollection the precise day. Hoping, however, that this is of no material consequence, I beg to remain,

Dear Sir, &c.

C. T.

EARL OF WARWICK, THE KING MAKER.

This nobleman, who at one time is said to have entertained thirty thousand people at the boards of his different manors and estates in England, and who, when he travelled or lodged in any town, was accompanied by four or five hundred retainers, wrote on All Souls’ day the following remarkable letter for the loan of a small sum. It is divested of its ancient spelling.

“_To our right trusty and well-beloved Friend, Sir_ THOMAS TODDENHAM.

“Right trusty and well beloved friend, we greet you well, heartily desiring to hear of your welfare; and if it please you to hear of our welfare, we were in good health at the making of this letter, entreating you heartily, that ye will consider our message, which our chaplain Master Robert Hopton shall inform you of; for we have great business daily and have had here before this time, wherefore we entreat you to consider the purchase, that we have made with one John Swyffham (Southcote) an esquire of Lincolnshire, of 88_l._ by the year, whereupon we must pay the last payment, the Monday next after St. Martin’s day, which sum is 458_l._ Wherefore we entreat you with all our heart, that ye will lend us ten, or twenty pounds, or what the said Master Robert wants of his payment, as we may do for you in time for to come, and we will send it you again afore new year’s day, as we are a true knight. For there is none in your country, that we might write to for trust, so well as unto you, for as we be informed, ye be our well willer, and so we entreat you, that ye consider our intent of this money, as ye will that we do for you in time to come.... Written at London, on All Soul’s Day, within our lodging in the Grey Friars, within Newgate.

“RIC. ERLE WARWYKE.”

This letter is not dated, as to the year, but is known from circumstances to have been written before 1455. Sir Thomas Toddingham was a wealthy knight of Norfolk, who had an unfortunate marriage with one of the Wodehouses. The epistle shows the importance of ten, or twenty pounds, when rents were chiefly received in kind, and the difference between one degree of wealth and another, was exemplified by the number of a baron’s retainers. “Now,” says Burke, “we have a ton of ancient pomp in a vial of modern luxury.”[430]

“DEATH OF THE LOTTERY.”

Introductory to particulars respecting _Lotteries_, two engravings are inserted, representing exhibitions that appeared in the streets of the metropolis, with the intent to excite adventure in “the last state lottery that will ever be drawn in England.”

[Illustration: ~The last Stage of the last State Lottery.~]

A BALLAD, 1826.

A lazy sot grew sober By looking at his troubles, For he found out how He work’d his woe, By playing with Lott’ry bubbles.

And just before October, The _grand_ contractors, zealous To _share_ their _last_ ills, With puffs and bills, Drove all the quack-doctors jealous.

Their _bill_-and-_cue_-carts slowly Paced Holborn and Long Acre, Like a funeral Not mourn’d at all, The bury’ng an undertaker.

Clerks smiled, and whisper’d lowly: “This is the time or never There _must_ be a rise-- Buy, and be wise, Or your chance is gone for ever.”

Yet, of the shares and tickets, Spite of all arts to sell ’em, There were more unsold Than dare be told; Although, if I knew, I’d tell ’em.

And so, worn out with rickets, The _last_ “Last Lott’ry” expired; And then there were cries-- “We’ve gained a _prize_ By the _loss_ we’ve so long desired:

“The lott’ry drew the humble Often aside from his labour, To build in the air, And, dwelling there, He beggar’d himself and neighbour.

“If the scheme-makers tumble Down to their proper station, They must starve, or work, Turn thief, or Turk, Or hang, for the good o’ th’ nation.”

*

[Illustration: ~“The Last.”~]

[Illustration]

What’s the odds?--while I am floundering here the gold fish will be gone; and as I always was a dab at hooking the right Numbers, I must cast for a Share of the SIX £30,000 on the 18^{th} JULY, for it is but “giving a Sprat to catch a Herring” as a body may say, and it is the last chance we shall have in England.

~Memorandum.~

The above engraving is copied from one of the same size to a lottery bill of 1826: its inscription is verbatim the same as that below the original. In after days, this may be looked on with interest, as a specimen of the means to which the lottery schemers were reduced, in order to attract attention to “the last.”

COLLECTIONS RESPECTING LOTTERIES

1569.--THE FIRST LOTTERY.

Dr. Rawlinson, a distinguished antiquary, produced to the Antiquarian society, in 1748, “A Proposal for a very rich Lottery, general without any Blankes, contayning a great N^{o} of good prices, as well of redy money as of Plate and certain sorts of Merchandizes, having been valued and prised by the Commandment of the Queenes most excellent Majesties order, to the entent that such Commodities as may chance to arise thereof, after the charges borne, may be converted towards the reparations of the Havens and Strength of the realme, and towards such other public good workes. The N^{o} of lotts shall be foure hundred thousand, and no more; and every lott shall be the summe of tenne shillings sterling only, and no more. To be filled by the feast of St. Bartholomew. The shew of Prises ar to be seen in Cheapside, at the sign of the Queenes armes, the house of Mr. Dericke, Goldsmith, Servant to the Queen. Some other Orders about it in 1567-8. Printed by Hen. Bynneman.”

This is the earliest lottery of which we have any account. According to Stow, it was begun to be drawn at the west door of St. Paul’s cathedral, on the 11th of January, 1569, (11th of Elizabeth,) and continued incessantly drawing, _day and night_, till the 6th of May following.[431] It was at first intended to have been drawn “at the house of Mr. Dericke,” who was the queen’s jeweller.[432] “Whether,” says Maitland, “this lottery was on account of the public, or the selfish views of private persons, my author[433] does not mention; but ’tis evident, by the time it took up in drawing, it must have been of great concern. This I have remarked as being the first of the kind I read in England.” Maitland does not seem to have been acquainted with Dr. Rawlinson’s communication of the printed “Proposal” for it to the society of Antiquaries, which, as it states that the “commodities,” or profits, arising therefrom were to be appropriated to the “reparations of the havens and strength of the realme,” obviates all doubt as to its being “on account of the public.”

* * * * *

In 1586, 28th of the reign of Elizabeth, “A Lotterie, for marvellous rich and beautifull armor, was begunne to be drawn at London, in S. Paules churchyard, at the great west gate, (an house of timber and boord being there erected for that purpose,) on St. Peter’s day in the morning, which lotterie continued in drawing day and night for the space of two or three daies.”[434] Of this lottery it is said, in lord Burghley’s Diary, at the end of Murden’s State papers, “June, 1586, the lottery of armour under the charge of John Calthorp determined.”[435] This is the second English lottery of which mention has been made.

* * * * *

In 1619, 16th of James I., it appears, from the following entry in the register of charitable gifts to the corporation of Reading, that a lottery was held in that town. “Whereas at a Lottery held within the Borough of Reading, in the Year of our Ld. God 1619, Gabriel Barber Gent. Agent in the sd. Lottery for the Councell & Company of Virginia of his own good Will & Charity towarde poor Tradesmen ffreemen & Inhabitants of the sd. Borough of Reading, & for the better enabling such poor Tradesmen to support & bear their Charges in their several Places & Callings in the sd. Corporation from time to time for ever freely gave & delivered to the Mayor & Burgesses of this Corporation the Sum of forty Pounds of lawfull Money of England Upon Special Trust & Confidence, that the sd. Mayor & Burgesses & their Successors shall from time to time for ever dispose & lend these 40_l._ to & amongst Six poor Tradesmen after the rate of 06_l._ 13_s._ 4_d._ to each Man for the Term of five Years gratis And after those five Years ended to dispose & lend the sd. 40_l._ by Such Soms to Six other poor Tradesmen for other five Years & so from five years to five years Successively upon good Security for ever Neverthelesse provided & upon Condition that none of those to whom the sd. Summs of mony shall be lent during that Term of five years shall keep either Inn or Tavern or dwell forth of the sd. Borough, but there during that time and terme, shall as other Inhabitants of the sd. Borough reside & dwell.

“Memorand. that the sd. Sum of 40_l._ came not into the hands & charge of the Mayor & Burgesses until April 1626.”

This extract was communicated to the “Gentleman’s Magazine” in 1778, by a correspondent, who, referring to this gift of “Gabriel Barber, gent., agent in the said lottery,” says, “If it be asked what is become of it now? _gone_, it is supposed, _where the chickens went before_ during the pious protectorship of Cromwell.”

* * * * *

In 1630, 6th Charles I., there was a project “for the conveying of certain springs of water into London and Westminster, from within a mile and a half of Hodsdon, in Hertfordshire, by the undertakers, Sir Edward Stradling and John Lyde.” The author of this project was one Michael Parker. “For defraying the expences whereof, king Charles grants them a special license to erect and publish a lottery or lotteries; _according_” says the record, “_to the course of other lotteries_ heretofore used or practised.” This is the first mention of lotteries either in the _Fœdera_ or Statute-book. “And, for the sole privilege of bringing the said waters in aqueducts to London, they were to pay four thousand pounds per annum into the king’s exchequer: and, the better to enable them to make the said large annual payment, the king grants them leave to bring their aqueducts through any of his parks, chases, lands, &c., and to dig up the same gratis.”[436]

* * * * *

In 1653, during the commonwealth, there was a lottery at Grocers’ Hall, which appears to have escaped the observation of the inquirers concerning this species of adventure. It is noticed in an old weekly newspaper, called “Perfect Account of the Daily Intelligence 16-23 November 1653,” by the following

~Advertisement.~

_At the Committee for Claims for Lands in Ireland_,

Ordered, That a Lottery be at Grocers-Hall London, on Thursday 15 Decem. 1653, both for Provinces and Counties, to begin at 8 of the clock in the forenoon of the same day; and all persons concerned therein are to take notice thereof.

_W. Tibbs._

Under Charles II., the crown, with a view to reward its adherents who resided within the bills of mortality, and had served it with fidelity during the interregnum, granted “Plate Lotteries;” by which is to be understood a gift of plate from the crown, to be disposed of in that manner as prizes, with permission to sell tickets. According to the Gazette, in April 1669, Charles II., the duke of York, (afterwards James II.,) and many of the nobility were present “at the grand plate lottery, which, by his majesty’s command, was then opened at the sign of the Mermaid over against the mews.” This was the origin of endless schemes, under the titles of “Royal Oak,” “Twelve-penny Lotteries,” &c., which will be adverted to presently. They may be further understood by an intimation, published soon after the drawing sanctioned by the royal visitors, in these words, “This is to give notice, that any persons who are desirous to farm any of the counties within the kingdom of England or dominion of Wales, in order to the setting up of a plate lottery, or any other lottery whatsoever, may repair to the lottery office, at Mr. Philips’s house, in Mermaid-court over against the mews; where they may contract with the trustees commissioned by his majesty’s letters patent for the management of the said patent, on the behalf of the truly loyal, indigent officers.”[437] In those times, the crown exceeded its prerogative by issuing these patents, and the law was not put in motion to question them.

_Book Lotteries._

During the reign of Charles II. lotteries were drawn at the theatres. At Vere-street theatre, which stood in Bear-yard, to which there is an entrance through a passage at the south-west corner of Lincolns’-inn-fields, another from Vere-street, and a third from Clare-market, Killigrew’s company performed during the seasons of 1661 and 1662, and part of 1663, when they removed to the new built theatre in Drury-lane; and the Vere-street theatre was probably unoccupied until Mr. Ogilby, the author of the now useless, though then useful “Itinerarium Angliæ, or Book of Roads,” adopted it, as standing in a popular neighbourhood, for the temporary purpose of drawing a lottery of books, which took place in 1668.

Books were often the species of property held out as a lure to adventurers, by way of lottery, for the benefit of the suffering loyalists. Among these, Blome’s Recreations, and Gwillim’s Heraldry, first edition, may be mentioned. In the Gazette of May 18, 1668, is the following advertisement: “Mr. Ogilby’s lottery of books opens on Monday the 25th instant, at the old Theatre between Lincoln’s-inn-fields and Vere-street; where all persons concerned may repair on Monday, May 18, and see the volumes, and put in their money.” On May 25th is announced, “Mr. Ogilby’s lottery of books (adventurers coming in so fast that they cannot in so short time be methodically registered) opens not till Tuesday the 2d of June; then not failing to draw; at the old Theatre between Lincoln’s-inn-fields and Vere-street.”

A correspondent, under the signature of “A Bibliographer,” communicates to the “Gentleman’s Magazine,” from whence the notice respecting these

## book lotteries is extracted, one of Ogilby’s Proposals as a curiosity,

in which light it is certainly to be regarded, and therefore it has a place here, as follows:--

A SECOND PROPOSAL, by the author, for the better and more speedy vendition of several volumes, (his own works,) by the way of a standing _Lottery_, licensed by his royal highness the duke of York, and assistants of the corporation of the royal fishing.

WHEREAS _John Ogilby_, esq., erected a standing lottery of books, and completely furnished the same with very large, fair, and special volumes, all of his own designment and composure, at vast expense, labour, and study of twenty years; the like impressions never before exhibited in the English tongue. Which, according to the appointed time, on the 10th of May, 1665, opened; and to the general satisfaction of the adventurers, with no less hopes of a clear despatch and fair advantage to the author, was several days in drawing: when its proceedings were stopt by the then growing sickness, and lay discontinued under the arrest of that common calamity, till the next year’s more violent and sudden visitation, the late dreadful and surprising conflagration, swallowed the remainder, being two parts of three, to the value of three thousand pounds and upward, in that unimaginable deluge. Therefore, to repair in some manner his so much commiserated losses, by the advice of many his patrons, friends, and especially by the incitations of his former adventurers, he resolves, and hath already prepared, not only to reprint all his own former editions, but others that are new, of equal value, and like estimation by their embellishments, and never yet published; with some remains of the first impressions, relics preserved in several hands from the fire; to set up a second standing lottery, where such the discrimination of fortune shall be, that few or none shall return with a dissatisfying chance. The whole draught being of greater advantage by much (to the adventurers) than the former. And accordingly, after publication, the author opened his office, where they might put in their first encouragements, (_viz._) twenty shillings, and twenty more at the reception of their fortune, and also see those several magnificent volumes, which their varied fortune (none being bad) should present them.

[438]But, the author now finding more difficulty than he expected, since many of his promisers (who also received great store of tickets to dispose of, towards promotion of his business) though seeming well resolved and very willing, yet straining courtesy not to go foremost in paying their monies, linger out, driving it off till near the time appointed for drawing; which dilatoriness: (since despatch is the soul and life to his proposal, his only advantage a speedy vendition:) and also observing how that a money dearth, a silver famine, slackens and cools the courage of adventurers; through which hazy humours magnifying medium shillings loome like crowns, and each forty shillings a ten pound heap. Therefore, according to the present humour now reigning, he intends to adequate his design; and this seeming too large-roomed, standing lottery, new modelled into many less and more likely to be taken tenements, which shall not open only a larger prospect of pleasing hopes, but more real advantage to the adventurer. Which are now to be disposed of thus: the whole mass of books or volumes, being the same without addition or diminution, amounting according to their known value (being the prices they have been usually disposed at) to thirteen thousand seven hundred pounds; so that the adventurers will have the above said volumes (if all are drawn) for less than two thirds of what they would yield in process of time, book by book. He now resolves to attemper, or mingle each prize with four allaying blanks; so bringing down, by this means, the market from double pounds to single crowns.

THE PROPOSITIONS.--First, whosoever will be pleased to put in five shillings shall draw a lot, his fortune to receive the greatest or meanest prize, or throw away his intended spending money on a blank. Secondly, whoever will adventure deeper, putting in twenty-five shillings, shall receive, if such his bad fortune be that he draws all blanks, a prize presented to him by the author of more value than his money (if offered to be sold) though proffered ware, &c. Thirdly, who thinks fit to put in for eight lots forty shillings shall receive nine, and the advantage of their free choice (if all blanks) of either of the works complete, _viz._ Homer’s Iliads and Odysses, or Æsop the first and second volumes, the China book, or Virgil. Of which,

The first and greatest Prize contains 1 Lot, Number 1.

An imperial Bible with Chorographical and an hundred historical sculps, valued at 25_l._ Virgil translated, with sculps and annotations, val. 5_l._ Homer’s Iliads, adorned with sculps, val. 5_l._ Homer’s Odysses, adorned with sculps, val. 4_l._ Æsop’s Fables paraphrased and sculped, in folio, val. 3_l._

A second Collection of Æsopick Fables, adorned with sculps, never * * * * * * * * * * * [_Imperfect._] * * *

His Majestie’s Entertainment passing through the city of London, and Coronation.

These are one of each, of all the books contained in the Lottery, the whole value 51_l._

The Second Prize contains 1 Lot, Num. 2.

One imperial Bible with all the sculps, val. 25_l._ Homer complete, in English, val. 9_l._ Virgil, val. 5_l._ Æsop complete, val. 6_l._ The Description of China, val. 4_l._

In all 49 Pound.

The Third Prize contains 1 Lot, Num. 3.

One royal Bible with all the sculps 10_l._ Homer’s Works in English, val. 9_l._ Virgil translated, with sculps and annotations, val. 5_l._ The first and second vol. of Æsop, val. 6_l._ The Description of China, val. 4_l._ Entertainment, val. 2_l._

In all 36 Pound.

1 Lot, Num. 4.

One imperial Bible with all the sculps, val. 25_l._ Æsop’s Fables the first and second vol. val. 6_l._

In all 31 Pound.

1 Lot, Num. 5.

One imperial Bible with all the sculps, val. 25_l._ Virgil translated, with sculps, val. 5_l._

In all 30 Pound.

1 Lot, Num. 6.

One imperial Bible with all the sculps, val. 25_l._ And a Description of China, val. 4_l._

In all 29 Pound.

1 Lot, Num. 7.

One imperial Bible with all the sculps, and a new Æsop, val. 28_l._

1 Lot, Num. 8.

One imperial Bible with all the sculps, val. 25_l._

1 Lot, Num. 9.

A royal Bible with all the sculps, val. 10_l._ A Description of China, val. 4_l._ And a Homer complete, val. 9_l._

In all 23 Pound.

1 Lot, Num. 10.

A royal Bible with all the sculps, val. 10_l._ A Virgil complete, val. 5_l._ Æsop’s Fables the first and second vols. val. 6_l._

In all 21 Pound.

1 Lot, Num. 11.

One royal Bible with all the sculps, val. 10_l._ And a Homer’s Works complete, val. 9_l._

In all 19 Pound.

1 Lot, Num. 12.

One royal Bible with all the sculps, val. 10_l._ And both the Æsops, val. 6_l._

In all 16 Pound.

1 Lot, Num. 13.

One royal Bible with all the sculps, val. 10_l._ A Virgil complete in English, val. 5_l._

In all 15 Pound.

1 Lot, Num. 14.

One royal Bible with all the sculps, val. 10_l._ A Description of China, val. 4_l._

In all 14 Pound.

* * * * [_Imperfect._] * * *

1 Lot, Num. 16.

One royal Bible with all the sculps, val. 10_l._ The second volume of Æsop, val. 3_l._

In all 13 Pound.

1 Lot, Num. 17.

One royal Bible with all the sculps, val. 10_l._ And an Entertainment, val. 2_l._

In all 12 Pound.

1 Lot, Num. 18.

One royal Bible with all the sculps, val. 10_l._

1 Lot, Num. 19.

One royal Bible with Chorographical sculps, val. 5_l._ One Virgil complete, val. 5_l._

In all 10 Pound.

1 Lot, Num. 20.

One royal Bible with Chorographical sculps, val. 5_l._ And a Homer’s Iliads, val. 5_l._

In all 10 Pound.

1 Lot, Num. 21.

One royal Bible with Chorographical sculps, val. 5_l._ And a Homer’s Odysses, val. 4_l._

In all 9 Pound.

1 Lot, Num. 22.

One royal Bible with Chorographical sculps, val. 5_l._ And a Description of China, val. 4_l._

In all 9 Pound.

1 Lot, Num. 23.

One royal Bible with Chorographical sculps, val. 5_l._ And Æsop complete, val. 6_l._

In all 11 Pound.

1 Lot, Num. 24.

A royal Bible with Chorographical sculps, val. 5_l._ And Æsop the first volume, val. 3_l._

In all 8 Pound.

1 Lot, Num. 25.

A royal Bible with Chorographical sculps, val. 5_l._ And Æsop the second volume, val. 3_l._

In all 8 Pound.

1 Lot, Num. 26.

A royal Bible, ruled, with Chorographical sculps, val. 6_l._

1 Lot, Num. 27.

A royal Bible with Chorographical sculps, ruled, val. 6_l._

1 Lot, Num. 28.

One royal Bible with Chorographical sculps, val. 5_l._

10 Lot, Num. 29.

Each a Homer complete, val. 9_l._

10 Lot, Num. 30.

Each a double Æsop complete, val. 6_l._

520 Lot, Num. 31.

Each a Homer’s Iliads, val. 5_l._

520 Lot, Num. 32.

Each a Homer’s Odysses, val. 4_l._

570 Lot, Num. 33.

Each a Virgil complete, val. 5_l._

570 Lot, Num. 34.

Each a China Book, val. 4_l._

570 Lot, Num. 35.

Each the first volume of Æsop, val. 3_l._

570 Lot, Num. 36.

Each the second volume of Æsop, val. 3_l._

The whole number of the lots three thousand, three hundred, and sixty-eight. The number of the blanks as above ordered; so that the total received is but four thousand, one hundred, and ten pounds.

The office where their monies are to be paid in, and they receive their tickets, and where the several volumes or prizes may be daily seen, (by which visual speculation understanding their real worth better than by the ear or a printed paper,) is kept at the Black Boy, over against St. Dunstan’s church, Fleet-street. The adventurers may also repair, for their better convenience, to pay in their monies, to Mr. Peter Cleyton, over against the Dutch church, in Austin-friars, and to Mr. Baker, near Broad-street, entering the South-door of the Exchange, and to Mr. Roycroft, in Bartholomew-close.

The certain day of drawing, the author promiseth (though but half full) to be the twenty-third of May next. Therefore all persons that are willing to adventure, are desired to bring or send in their monies with their names, or what other inscription or motto they will, by which to know their own, by the ninth of May next, it being Whitson-eve, that the author may have time to put up the lots and inscriptions into their respective boxes.

* * * * *

D. H., one of Mr. Urban’s contributors, mentions that he had seen an undated “Address to the Learned: or, an advantageous lottery for Books in quires; wherein each adventurer of a guinea is sure of a prize of two pound value; and it is but four to one that he has a prize of three, six, eight, twelve, or fifty pounds, as appears by the following proposals:” one thousand five hundred lots, at 1_l._ 1_s._ each, to be drawn with the lots out of two glasses, superintended by John Lilly and Edward Darrel, esqrs., Mr. Deputy Collins, and Mr. William Proctor, stationer, two lots of 50_l._, ten of 12_l._, twenty of 8_l._, sixty-eight of 6_l._, two hundred of 3_l._, one thousand two hundred of 3_l._ The undertakers were: Thomas Leigh, and D. Midwinter, at the Rose and Crown, in St. Paul’s Church-yard; Mr. Aylmer, at the Three Pigeons, and Mr. Richard Parker, under the Piazza of the Royal Exchange; Mr. Nicholson, in Little Britain; Mr. Took, at the Middle Temple gate, Fleet-street; Mr. Brown, at the Black Swan, without Temple-bar; Mr. Sare, at Gray’s-inn gate; Mr. Lownds, at the Savoy gate; Mr. Castle, near Scotland-yard gate; and Mr. Gillyflower, in Westminster-hall, booksellers.

* * * * *

Letters patent in behalf of the loyalists were from time to time renewed, and, from the Gazette of October 11, 1675, it appears by those dated June 19, and December 17, 1674, there were granted for thirteen years to come, “all lotteries whatsoever, invented or to be invented, to several truly loyal and indigent officers, in consideration of their many faithful services and sufferings, with prohibition to all others to use or set up the said lotteries,” unless deputations were obtained from those officers.

A PENNY LOTTERY.

The most popular of all the schemes was that drawn at the Dorset-garden theatre, near Salisbury-square, Fleet-street, with the capital prize of a thousand pound for a penny. The drawing began October 19, 1698; and, in the _Protestant Mercury_ of the following day, “its fairness (was said) to give universal content to all that were concerned.” In the next paper is found an inconsistent and frivolous story, as to the possessor of the prize: “Some time since, a boy near Branford, going to school one morning, met an old woman, who asked his charity; the boy replied, he had nothing to give her but a piece of bread and butter, which she accepted. Some time after, she met the boy again, and told him she had good luck after his bread and butter, and therefore would give him a penny, which, after some years’ keeping, would produce many pounds: he accordingly kept it a great while; and at last, with some friend’s advice, put it into the penny lottery, and we are informed that on Tuesday last the said lot came up with 1000_l._ prize.” However absurd this relation appears, it must be recollected those to whom it was principally addressed had given proof of having sufficient credulity for such a tale, in believing that two hundred and forty thousand shares could be disposed of and appropriated to a single number, independent of other prizes. The scheme of the “Penny Lottery” was assailed in a tract, intituled “The Wheel of Fortune, or Nothing for a Penny; being remarks on the drawing of the Penny Lottery at the Theatre Royal, in Dorset-Garden,” 1698, 4to. Afterwards at this theatre there was a short exhibition of prize-fighters; and the building was totally deserted in 1703.

In 1698-9, schemes were started, called “The Lucky Adventure; or, Fortunate Chance, being 2000_l._ for a groat, or 3000_l._ for a shilling:” and “Fortunatus, or another adventure of 1000_l._ for a penny:” but purchasers were more wary, and the money returned in both cases.--The patentees also advertised against the “Marble-board, alias the Woollich-board lotteries; the Figure-board, alias the Whimsey-board, and the Wyreboard lotteries.”[439]

* * * * *

These patents of the Restoration seem to have occasioned considerable strife between the parties who worked under them. The following verses from “The Post Boy, January 3, 1698,” afford some insight to their estimation among sensible people:--

A DIALOGUE _betwixt the_ NEW LOTTERIES _and the_ ROYAL OAK.

_New Lott._ To you, the mother of our schools, Where knaves by licence manage fools, Finding fit juncture and occasion, To pick the pockets of the nation; We come to know how we must treat ’em, And to their heart’s content may cheat ’em. _Oak._ It cheers my aged heart to see So numerous a progeny; I find by you, that ’tis heaven’s will That knavery should flourish still. You have docility and wit, And fools were never wanting yet. Observe the crafty auctioneer, His art to sell waste paper dear; When he for salmon baits his hooks, That cormorant of offal books, Who bites, as sure as maggots breed, Or carrion crows on horse-flesh feed; Fair specious titles him deceive, To sweep what Sl---- and T----n leave. If greedy gulls you wou’d ensnare, Make ’em proposals wondrous fair; Tell him strange golden show’rs shall fall, And promise mountains to ’em all. _New Lott._ That craft we’ve already taught, And by that trick have millions caught; Books, bawbles, toys, all sorts of stuff, Have gone off this way well enough. Nay, music, too, invades our art, And to some tune wou’d play her part. I’ll show you now what we are doing, For we have divers wheels agoing. We now have found out richer lands Than Asia’s hills, or Afric’s sands, And to vast treasures must give birth, Deep hid in bowels of the earth; In fertile Wales, and God knows where, Rich mines of gold and silver are, From whence we drain prodigious store Of silver coin’d, tho’ none in ore, Which down our throats rich coxcombs pour, In hopes to make us vomit more. _Oak._ This project surely must be good, Because not eas’ly understood: Besides, it gives a mighty scope To the fool’s argument--vain hope. No eagle’s eye the cheat can see, Thro’ hope thus back’d by mystery. _New Lott._ We have, besides, a thousand more, For great and small, for rich and poor, From him that can his thousands spare, Down to the penny customer. _Oak._ The silly mob in crowds will run, To be at easy rates undone. A gimcrack-show draws in the rout, Thousands their all by pence lay out. _New Lott._ We, by experience, find it true, But we have methods wholly new, Strange late-invented ways to thrive, To make men pay for what they give, To get the rents into our hands Of their hereditary lands, And out of what does thence arise, To make ’em buy annuities. We’ve mathematic combination, To cheat folks by plain demonstration, Which shall be fairly manag’d too, The undertaker knows not how. Besides ---- _Oak._ Pray, hold a little, here’s enough, To beggar Europe of this stuff. Go on, and prosper, and be great, I am to you a puny cheat.[440]

* * * * *

The “Royal-Oak Lottery,” as the rival if not the parent of the various other demoralizing schemes, obtained the largest share of public odium. The evils it had created are popularly set forth in a remarkable tract, entitled “The Arraignment, Trial, and Condemnation of _Squire Lottery_, alias _Royal-Oak Lottery_, London, 1699,” 8vo. The charges against the offender are arrayed under the forms imported by the title-page. The following extracts are in some respects curious, as exemplifying the manners of the times:--

_Die Lunæ vicesimo die Martii 1698/9. Anno Regni, &c._

At the Time and Place appointed, came on the Trial of _Squire Lottery_, alias _Royal-Oak Lottery_, for abundance of intolerable Tricks, Cheats, and high Misdemeanours, upon an Indictment lately found against him, in order to a National Delivery.

About ten of the Clock, the day and year abovesaid, the Managers came into the Court, where, in the presence of a vast confluence of People of all Ranks, the Prisoner was ordered to the Bar.

Proclamation being made, and a Jury of good Cits which were to try the Prisoner being sworn, the Indictment against _Squire Lottery_ alias _Royal-Oak Lottery_, was read.

_The Jurors’ Names._

Mr. _Positive_, a Draper in _Covent Garden_. Mr. _Squander_, an Oilman in _Fleet-street_. Mr. _Pert_, a Tobacconist, _ditto_. Mr. _Captious_, a Milliner in _Paternoster-Row_. Mr. _Feeble_, a Coffeeman near the _Change_. Mr. _Altrick_, a Merchant in _Gracechurch-street_. Mr. _Haughty_, a Vintner by _Grays-Inn, Holborn_. Mr. _Jealous_, a Cutler at _Charing-Cross_. Mr. _Peevish_, a Bookseller in _St. Paul’s Church-yard_. Mr. _Spilbook_, near _Fleet-bridge_. Mr. _Noysie_, a Silkman upon _Ludgate-hill_. Mr. _Finical_, a Barber in Cheapside.

_Cl. of Ma. Squire Lottery_, alias _Royal-Oak Lottery_, you stand Indicted by the Name of _Squire Lottery_, alias _Royal-Oak Lottery_, for that you the said _Squire Lottery_, not having the Fear of God in your Heart; nor weighing the Regard and Duty you owe, and of right ought to pay to the Interest, Safety, and Satisfaction of your Fellow-Subjects; have from time to time, and at several times, and in several places, contrary to the known Laws of this Kingdom, under the shadow and coverture of a Royal Oak, propagated, continued, and carried on a most unequal, intricate, and insinuating Game, to the utter ruin and destruction of many thousand Families: And that you the said _Squire Lottery_, alias _Royal-Oak Lottery_, as a common Enemy to all young People, and an inveterate Hater of all good Conversation and Diversion, have, for many years last past, and do still continue, by certain cunning Tricks and Stratagems, insidiously, falsely, and impiously, to trepan, deceive, cheat, decoy, and entice divers Ladies, Gentlemen, Citizens, Apprentices, and others, to play away their Money at manifest Odds and Disadvantage. And that you the said _Squire Lottery_, alias _Royal-Oak Lottery_, the more secretly and effectually to carry on and propagate your base, malicious, and covetous Designs and Practices, did, and do still encourage several lewd and disorderly Persons, to meet, propose, treat, consult, consent, and agree upon several unjust and illegal Methods, how to ensnare and entangle People into your delusive Game; by which means you have, for many years last past, utterly, intirely, and irrecoverably, contrary to all manner of Justice, Humanity, or good Nature, despoiled, depraved, and defrauded, an incredible number of Persons of every Rank, Age, Sex, and Condition, of all their Lands, Goods, and Effects; and from the Ruins of multitudes built fine Houses, and purchased large Estates, to the great scandal and reflection on the Wisdom of the Nation, for suffering such an intolerable Impostor to pass so long unpunished. What say’st thou, _Squire Lottery_, art thou guilty of the aforesaid Crimes, Cheats, Tricks, and Misdemeanours thou standest Indicted of, or not Guilty?

_Lottery._ Not Guilty. But, before I proceed to make my Defence, I beg I may be permitted the assistance of three or four learned Sharpers to plead for me, in case any Matter of Law arise.

This being assented to, the Managers of the Prosecution made their speeches in support of the Charge, and called Captain _Pasthope_.

_1st Man._ Sir, Do you know Squire _Lottery_, the Prisoner at the Bar?

_Pasthope._ Yes, I have known him intimately for near forty years; ever since the Restoration of King _Charles_.

_1st Man._ Pray will you give the Bench and Jury an Account what you know of him; how he came into _England_, and how he has behaved himself ever since.

_Pasthope._ In order to make my Evidence more plain, I hope it will not be judg’d much out of form, to premise two or three things.

_1st Man_. Mr. _Pasthope_, Take your own method to explain yourself; we must not abridge or direct you in any respect.

_Pasthope._ In the years 60 and 61, among a great many poor Cavaliers, ’twas my hard fate to be driven to Court for a Subsistence, where I continued in a neglected state, painfully waiting the moving of the Waters for several months; when at last a Rumour was spread, that a certain Stranger was landed in _England_, that in all probability, if we could get him the Sanction of a Patent, would be a good Friend to us all.

_Man._ You seem to intimate as if he was a Stranger; pray, do you know what Countryman he was?

_Pasthope._ The report of his Country was very different; some would have him a _Walloon_, some a _Dutchman_, some a _Venetian_, and others a _Frenchman_; indeed by his Policy, cunning Design, Forethought, &c. I am very well satisfied he could be no _Englishman_.

_Man._ What kind of Credentials did he bring with him to recommend him with so much advantage?

_Pasthope._ Why, he cunningly took upon him the Character of a _Royal-Oak Lottery_, and pretended a mighty Friendship to antiquated Loyalists: but for all that, there were those at Court that knew he had been banish’d out of several Countries for disorderly Practices, till at last he pitch’d upon poor easy credulous _England_ for his Refuge.

_Man._ You say then, he was a Foreigner, that he came in with the Restoration, usurp’d the Title of a _Royal Oak_, was establish’d in Friendship to the Cavaliers, and that for disorderly Practices he had been banish’d out of several Countries; till at last he was forc’d to fix upon _England_ as the fittest _Asylum_. But pray, Sir, how came you so intimately acquainted with him at first?

_Pasthope._ I was about to tell you. In order to manage his Affairs, it was thought requisite he should be provided with several Coadjutors, which were to be dignify’d with the Character of _Patentees_; amongst which number, by the help of a friendly Courtier, I was admitted for one.

_Man._ Oh! then I find you was a Patentee. Pray, how long did you continue in your Patentee’s Post? and what were the Reasons that urg’d you to quit it at last?

_Pasthope._ I kept my Patentee’s Station nine years, in which time I had clear’d 4000_l._, and then, upon some Uneasiness and Dislike, I sold it for 700_l._

_Man._ Pray, Captain, tell the Court more fully what was the Reason that prevail’d with you to relinquish such a profitable place.

_Pasthope._ I had two very strong Reasons for quitting my Post; _viz._ Remorse of Conscience, and Apprehension of consequent Danger. To tell you the truth, I saw so many bad Practices encourag’d and supported, and so many persons of both Sexes ruin’d; I saw so much Villany perfected and projected, and so many other intolerable Mischiefs within the compass of every day’s Proceeding, that partly through the stings of my Mind and the apprehensions I was under of the Mob, with a great deal of Reluctancy I quitted my Post.

_Man._ Captain, I find you’re nicely qualify’d for an Evidence, pray, therefore, give the Court an Account what Methods the Prisoner us’d to take to advance his business.

_Pasthope._ The way in my time, and I suppose ’tis the same still, was to send out Sharpers and Setters into all parts of the Town, and to give ’em direction to magnify the Advantage, Equality, and Justice of his Game, in order to decoy Women and Fools to come and play away their Money.

_Man._ Well, but sure he had no Women or Fools of Quality, Rank, or Reputation, that came to him? According to the common Report that passes upon him, there’s none but the very Scoundrels and Rabble, the very Dregs and Refuse of Fools, will think him worth their Conversation.

_Pasthope._ Truly, he had ’em of all sorts, as well Lord-fools and Lady-fools, Knight-fools and Esquire-fools, or any other sort of Fools: and, indeed, he made no difference between ’em neither; a Cobler-fool had as much respect as a Lord-fool, in proportion to the money he had in his Pocket; and _pro hac vice_ had as extensive a Qualification to command, domineer, and hector, as the best Fool of ’em all.

_Man._ Did you never observe any of these Fools to get any money of him? I can’t imagine what it could be that could influence ’em to embark with him, if there was nothing to be got.

_Pasthope._ There was never any body that ever got any thing of him in the main: now and then one by chance might carry off a small matter; and so ’twas necessary they should, for otherwise his Constitution must dissolve in course.

_Man._ ’Tis a great mystery to me, that so many People should pursue a Game where every body’s a Loser at last; but pray, Captain, then, what are the odds the Prisoner is reputed to have against those that play with him?

_Pasthope._ No body can tell you their Advantage; ’tis a cunning intricate _Contexture_, and truly I very much question whether the original Projector himself had a perfect Idea of the Odds: at a full Table and deep Play, I have seen him clear 600_l._ in less than an hour.

_Man._ What are the Odds he owns himself?

_Pasthope._ Only 32 Figures against 27, which indeed is Odds enough to insure all the money at length. But this, it seems, was an Advantage that was allow’d him, that he might be able to keep a good House, relieve the Poor, and pay an annual Pension to the Crown or the Courtiers.

_Man._ You say, by his original Agreement he’s to keep a good House: pray after all, what sort of House is it he does keep?

_Past._ Why, he dines at the Tavern, where any body that has 40 or 50_l._ to play away with him the Afternoon, may be admitted into his Company.

_Man._ What, does he entertain none but those that have 40 or 50_l._ to lose?

_Past._ He never converses with any Person that has no money: if they have no money, their Company’s burdensom and ungrateful, and the Waiters have Directions to keep ’em out.

_Man._ Does he do this to the very Persons he has ruin’d, and won all they have? That, methinks, is a pitch of Barbarity beyond the common degree: I hardly ever read or heard of any thing so exaltedly cruel and brutish, in all the Accounts of my Life.

_Past._ I have seen abundance of Examples of this nature, one, in

## particular, which I shall never forget; a poor Lady, that had lost

350_l._ _per annum_ to him, beside two or three thousand pounds in ready money, basely and inhumanly hal’d out of doors, but for asking for a glass of Sack.

_Man._ You were mentioning his Charity to the Poor too; is there any thing of reality in that?

_Past._ For my part, I never heard of one good Act he has done in the whole course of his Life: secret Charity is the most meritorious, ’tis true; and perhaps it may be that way he may communicate his, for indeed I never heard of any he did in publick.

_Man._ You were mentioning too an annual Pension to the Crown; what is it he pays to the Crown?

_Past._ Indeed I cannot be positive in that: to the best of my remembrance ’tis four thousand pounds _per annum_: in compensation for which, beside the general liberty he has to cheat and abuse the World, he has the sole Privilege of Licensing all other Cheats and Impostors, commonly known by the Name of Lotteries.

_2d Man._ You were speaking something, Captain _Pasthope_, just now, as if the Prisoner was intrusted with these Advantages for the benefit of some poor Cavaliers, which were to be the Patentees, as you call ’em. Pray tell the Jury what kind of Cavaliers these Patentees were.

_Past._ That was all but a Blind, a pure Trick to deceive the World: the Patentees, in the main, were either Sharpers or broken Tradesman, or some such sort or Vermin, that had cunningly twisted themselves into the business under the shadow of Cavaliers.

_Man._ Pray, what Opinion had the World of the Prisoner when he first came to be known in _England_?

_Pasthope._ The same that it has of him now: all wise men look’d upon him as a Cheat, and a dangerous Spark to be let loose in publick among our English Youth: and indeed I have heard a great many sober men pass very sharp Censures upon the Wisdom of the Court for intrusting him with a Royal Authority.

_Man._ What kind of Censures were they that they past? do you remember any of them particularly?

_Past._ Yes, I remember several things that I am almost ashamed to mention. I have heard ’em often reflecting what an intolerable Shame and Scandal it was, that a whole Kingdom should be sacrificed to the Interest of two or three Courtiers, and three or four scurvy mercenary Patentees; that so many thousand Families should be ruin’d, and no notice taken of it; that so many Wives should be seduc’d to rob and betray their Husbands, so many Children and Servants their Parents and Masters, and so many horrid Mischiefs transacted daily under the shadow of this pretended _Royal-Oak Lottery_, and no manner of means used to suppress it.

_2d Man._ But, Captain, did you never hear of any Person that got money of the Prisoner in the main?

_Past._ Not one. I defy him to produce one single person that’s a Gainer, against a hundred thousand he has ruin’d. I’m confident I have a Catalogue by me of several thousands that have been utterly undone by him, within the compass of my own Experience.

_Man._ What does the Town in general say of him?

_Past._ The town, here-a-late, is grown so inveterate and incens’d against him, that I am very well assur’d that if he had not been call’d to account in the very nick, the Mob would have speedily taken him into their correction.

_Man._ Well, Sir, you hear what the Witness has said against you; will you ask him any Questions?

_Lottery._ Only one; and leave the rest till I come to make my general Defence. Sir, I desire to know whether you was not one that was turn’d out upon the last Renewal of the Patent?

_Past._ No, Sir, I was not. You might have remember’d that I told you I saw so much of your Falshood and Tricks, and so many innocent People daily sacrific’d, to support a Society of lewd, debauch’d, impertinent, and withal imperious Cannibals, that I thought it my best way to quit your Fraternity, and pack off with that little I had got, and leave you to manage your mathematical Balls, &c. by your self.

_Man._ I suppose, Sir, you will ask him no more Questions, and so we’ll call another Witness.

_Lottery._ No, Sir, I have done with him.

_Man._ Call Squire _Frivolous_, the Counsellor: Sir, do you know _Squire Lottery_, the Prisoner?

_Frivolous._ I have been acquainted with him several years, to my great Cost and Damage. The first time I had the misfortune to know him, was at an Act at _Oxford_ about twenty years ago; where among abundance of other young Fools that he entic’d to sell their Books for Money to play with him, &c. I was one.

_Man._ What, I hope, he was not so barbarous as to decoy the poor young Gentlemen out of their Books?

_Frivolous._ Yes, out of every thing they had, and out of the College to boot: For my own part I have reason to curse him, I’m sure; He flatter’d me up with so many Shams and false Pretences, and deluded me with so many chimerical Notions and cunning Assurances, and urg’d me so long from one deceitful Project to another, till at last he had trickt me out of all I had in the world, and then turn’d me over to the scorn and laughter of my Friends and Acquaintance.

_Man._ Can you give the Bench any particular Names of Persons he has ruin’d?

_Frivolous._ I have a Collection of Names in my Pocket, which I’m sure he can’t object against, that have lost fourteen or fifteen thousand Pound _per Annum_, within my own Knowledg and Acquaintance.

_Man._ That’s a round Sum: But, pray, Mr. _Frivolous_, for the satisfaction of the Jury, mention a few of their Names.

_Frivolous._ I suppose, _Squire Lottery_, you must remember the Kentish Squire in the Blue Coat, that you won the six hundred Pound _per Annum_ of, in less than five months. You remember the Lord’ Steward that lost an Estate of his own of three hundred Pound _per Annum_, and run four thousand Pound in Arrears to his Lord beside. You remember, I suppose, the West-India Widow, that lost the Cargo of two Ships, valued at fifteen hundred Pound, in less than a month. I know you can’t forget the honest Lady at _St. James’s_, that sold all her Goods, Plate, and China, for about seven hundred Pound, and paid it all away to you, as near as I remember, in three mornings. I know you can’t forget the three Merchants’ Daughters that play’d away their whole Fortunes, _viz._ fifteen hundred Pounds apiece in less than two months. You remember the Silkman from _Ludgate-hill_; the young Draper in _Cornhil_; the Country Parson; the Doctor of Physick’s Daughter; the Lady’s Woman; the Merchant’s Apprentice; the Marine Captain; the Ensign of the Guards; the Coffeeman’s Neece; the old Justice’s Nephew; and abundance of others, which I have in my Catalogue, that you have cheated out of large Sums, and utterly ruin’d.

_Lottery._ I desire that he may be ask’d, what it was that influenc’d him at first to make such a Catalogue?

_Man._ He desires to know upon what account it was that you made this Collection of Names?

_Frivolous._ I had once a design to have him call’d to an Account, and forc’d to a Restitution; in which case I thought the Names of these Persons might be of some use to me.

_Man._ What Method did you propose to your self to bring him to a Restitution?

_Frivolous._ I had a Notion, that if I drew up the Case, and got it recommended to the Honourable House of Commons, they would have thought the Prisoner worth their correction: But this he got intelligence of, and employ’d one of his Agents to make up the matter with me.

_Man._ What, I suppose you mean he brib’d you with a Sum of Money to decline the Prosecution?

_Frivolous._ Truly you have hit of the very thing; he knew that I was poor, and he was guilty, and so compounded with me for a few Guineas to let the thing fall: And indeed, if I am not misinform’d, his Art of Bribing, &c. has guarded him so long from the Punishments which the Laws of the Land, and common Justice, have provided for such notorious Offenders.

Other witnesses having been called, the arraigned defended himself as follows:--

_Lottery._ Sir, I intend to spend as little of your time as I can: I perceive, that, let me say what I will, you are prepar’d to over-rule it, and so I’ll only say a few words, and call three or four Witnesses to prove my reputation, and then leave the good Men and true of the Jury, upon whose Verdict I must stand or fall, to use me as they shall best judg the nature of my Case deserves.

I know, Gentlemen, the tide of Prejudice runs very fierce against me; so that let me say what I will, I’m satisfy’d it will be all to very little purpose; an ill Name to a Person in my condition is certain Death, which indeed makes me a little more indifferent in making my defence.

But, Gentlemen, look upon me, I am the very Image of some of you, a married Protestant; upon which account I’m confident I may rely upon a little of your Justice, if not your Favour.

The Crimes I am charged with are indeed very great, and, what’s worse, there’s some of ’em I can never expect to evince. But then, Gentlemen, I hope you’l consider, that whatever I did, was purely in the prosecution of my occupation; and you know withal what Authority I had for it; so that if by chance, in this long tract of time, every thing should not be so nicely conformable as you expect, I hope you’l take care to lay the Saddle upon the right Horse.

You all know that Covetousness and Cheating are the inseparable Companions of a Gamester; divide him from them, and he’s the most insignificant Creature in Nature. And, Gentlemen, I appeal to your selves, if a little useful lying and falshood be not (in some cases) not only tolerable, but commendable. I dare say you will agree with me in this, that if all the Knaves and Cheats of the Nation were call’d to the Bar and executed, there would only be a few Fools left to defend the Commonwealth.

But, Gentlemen, as I told you before, I won’t spend your time, and therefore I’ll call my Witnesses. Call Captain _Quondam_.

_Cryer._ Call Capt. _Quondam_.

_Lottery._ Sir, I desire you would give the Court an account what you know of me, as to Life and Conversation.

_Quondam._ I have known the Prisoner for several years, and have been often in his company upon particular occasions and never saw any thing that was rude or unhandsome by him.

_Man._ Pray, noble Captain, what Countryman are you?

_Quondam._ Sir, I am a West-Countryman.

_Man._ An English West-Country, or a _West-India_ Man? or what?

_Quondam._ I am a West-Countryman of his Majesty’s own Dominions, of the Kingdom of _Ireland_, in the County of _Cork_, and Parish of _Durrus_ in the Barony of _West-Carbury_, near the great Bogg of _Longuar_, Gent.

_Man._ You’re a West-Countryman with a Witness. And, pray, how long have you been in _England_?

_Quondam._ Ever since the last year of my Soveraign Lord King _James_.

_Man._ And, pray, how long have you been a Captain?

_Quondam._ I was born so; my Father, my Grandfather, great Grandfather, and most of my Kin, were all Captains before me.

_Man._ You say you have been often in the Prisoner’s Company; pray where have you been in his Company, and upon what account?

_Quondam._ I have been in his Company at _Epsom_, _Tunbridge_, _Lambeth_, _Islington_, and at several other places both in Town and Country.

_Man._ Well, but you ha’n’t told what was the occasion that brought you so oft into his Company.

_Quondam._ He desired me to go along with him to help him to divert and entertain his Guests, especially the Ladies that us’d to visit him.

_Man._ I suppose you’re one of his Dependents: had you never no salary from him?

_Quondam._ I have had several Favours from him, and I must own I love him very well; and, by my Shoul, I believe he’s a very honest Man, and a good Christian.

_Man._ Who’s your next evidence?

_Lottery._ I desire Mr. _Scamper_ may be call’d.

_Cry._ Call Mr. _Scamper_.

_Lottery._ Pray, Mr. _Scamper_, give the Court an Account what you know of me, as to my manner of living and behaviour in the World.

_Scamper._ You know, _Squire Lottery_, your Acquaintance and mine is but of a late Date; I never saw you till last _May_ at _Lambeth Wells_, and then ’twas but by accident too.

After other witnesses called in his behalf, whose testimony, however, tended to inculpate Squire “Royal Oak,” the evidence was summed up.

“Then the jury withdrew to consider of their verdict, and afterwards they returned into the court, and the prisoner was brought again to the bar and found guilty, according to the indictment, and afterwards received sentence, together with Mr. _Auction_ and Dr. _Land-Bank_, who were both tryed, convicted, and condemned; and their trials will be published with all possible speed. FINIS.”

There is no reason to doubt, that the representations in the preceding satire are substantially correct. Private and fallacious lotteries were at this time become so general, not only in London, but in most other great cities and towns of England, whereby the lower people and the servants and children of good families were defrauded, that an act of parliament was therefore passed 10 and 11 William III. c. 17, for suppressing such lotteries; “even although they might be set up under colour of patents or grants under the great seal. Which said grants or patents,” says the preamble “are against the common good, welfare, and peace of the kingdom, and are void and against law.” A penalty therefore of five hundred pounds was laid on the proprietors of any such lotteries, and of twenty pounds on every adventurer in them. Notwithstanding this, the like disposition to fraud and gaining prevailed again, till fresh laws were enacted for their suppression.[441]

* * * * *

It is observed, that if the lottery office keepers of the present century could be credited, their adventurers enjoyed greater gaming privileges than the world ever produced; and yet it is an indubitable fact, that in the early state lotteries the advantages offered were eminently superior to those of recent times.

The Post Boy of December 27 says, “We are informed that the parliamentary lottery will be fixed in this manner:--150,000 tickets will be delivered out at 10_l._ each ticket, making in all the sum of 1,500,000_l._ sterling; the principal whereof is to be sunk, the parliament allowing nine per cent. interest for the whole during the term of thirty-two years, which interest is to be divided as follows: 3750 tickets will be prizes from 1000_l._ to 5_l._ per annum during the said thirty-two years; all the other tickets will be blanks, so that there will be thirty-nine of these to one prize, but then each blank ticket will be entitled to fourteen shillings a year for the term of thirty-two years, which is better than an annuity for life at ten per cent. over and above the chance of getting a prize.” Such was the eagerness of the public in subscribing to the above profitable scheme, that Mercers-hall was literally crowded, and the clerks were found incompetent to receive the influx of names. 600,000_l._ was subscribed January 21; and on the 28th of February the sum of 1,500,000_l._ was completed.

* * * * *

The rage for lotteries reigned uncontrolled; and the newspapers of the day teemed with proposals issued by every ravenous adventurer who could collect a few valuable articles; and from those, shopkeepers took the hint, and goods of every description were converted into prizes, even neckcloths, snuff-boxes, toothpick-cases, linen, muslin, and plate. The prices of tickets were generally sixpence, a shilling, half a crown, &c. At the latter end of the year just mentioned, the magistrates, being alarmed, declared their intention of putting the act of William and Mary in force, which levied a penalty of 500_l._ on the proprietor, and 20_l._ on each purchaser.

Matthew West, a goldsmith, of Clare-street, Clare-market, appears to have been the man who first divided lottery tickets into shares. He advertised, in 1712, that he had sold 100 tickets in the million and an half lottery in twentieths, and purposed pursuing his plan, which was well received.

The lottery for 1714 contained 50,000 tickets at 10_l._ each, with 6982 prizes and 43,018 blanks; two of the former were 10,000_l._, with one of 5, another of 4000_l._, a third of 3000_l._, and a fourth of 2000_l._, five of 1000_l._, ten of 500_l._, twenty of 200_l._, fifty of 100_l._, four hundred of 50_l._, and six thousand, four hundred, and ninety-one of 20_l._

Besides the drawing for prizes and blanks, there was another for the course of payment, and each 1000 tickets was called a course. The payments to the receivers were on the 10th of November and 10th of December, 1713. When the tickets were drawn, they were exchanged for standing orders, and thus rendered assignable by endorsement; all the blanks were repaid the 10_l._ per ticket at one payment, in the order their course of payment happened to fall, and they bore an interest of four per cent. from Michaelmas 1713. The prizes were payable in the same manner: the first drawn ticket had 500_l._; the last 1000_l._ besides the general chance; 35,000_l._ per annum was payable weekly from the Exchequer to the paymaster for the discharge of the principal and interest, and the whole funds of the civil list were chargeable for thirty-two years for 35,000_l._ per annum.[442]

* * * * *

One of the schemes which preceded the bubbles of 1720 was an insurance-office for lottery tickets, opened at Mercers-hall; and 120,000_l._ was actually subscribed on the following terms: for every ninety-six tickets insured, the proprietors agreed to allow to the company (after the tickets were drawn) 16_s._ per ticket, and five per cent. on such prizes as occurred to the ninety-six tickets, the company returning the tickets, and in case the prizes did not amount to 288_l._ valuing the prizes at par; the company to make up the money 3_l._ for every ticket. For every forty-eight tickets the proprietors agreed to allow 19_s._ per ticket, and five per cent. on the prizes as above; the company making up the tickets 144_l._ or 3_l._ per ticket, and so on down to twelve tickets. The proprietors of the tickets to advance no money for this security; but, when drawn, to allow as above; the tickets to be deposited with the company, and placed by them under seal in the bank of England; if not called for in ninety days after the drawing, to be forfeited.[443]

* * * * *

In 1712, gambling prevailed in smaller private and unlawful lotteries, under the denomination of sales of gloves, fans, cards, plate, &c.; also offices were opened for insurances on marriages, births, christenings, services, &c. and daily advertisements thereof were published in the newspapers. By an act of the tenth of queen Anne, keepers of these lotteries and offices were subjected to a penalty of 500_l._ In 1716, the spirit of adventure was excited by the sale of chances and parts of chances of tickets, which occasioned parliament again to interfere: all such practices, and all undertakings resembling lotteries, or founded on the state lottery, were declared illegal, and prohibited under a penalty of 100_l._ beyond the penalties previously enacted against private lotteries.[444]

LUCKY NUMBERS.

The attention of “the Spectator” was directed to the lottery mania prevailing at this period. One of its writers observing, on the predilection for particular numbers, ranks it among the pastimes and extravagancies of human reason, which is of so busy a nature, that it will exert itself on the meanest trifles, and work even when it wants materials. He instances, that when a man has a mind to adventure his money in a lottery, every figure of it appears equally alluring, and as likely to succeed as any of its fellows. They all of them have the same pretensions to goodluck, stand upon the same foot of competition; and no manner of reason can be given, why a man should prefer one to the other, before the lottery is drawn. In this case therefore, caprice very often acts in the place of reason, and forms to itself some groundless imaginary motive, where real and substantial ones are wanting. I know a well-meaning man that is very well pleased to risk his good fortune upon the number 1711, because it is the year of our Lord. I am acquainted with a tacker that would give a good deal for the number 134. On the contrary, I have been told of a certain zealous dissenter, who being a great enemy to popery, and believing that bad men are the most fortunate in this world, will lay two to one on the number 666 against any other number; because, says he, it is the number of the beast. Several would prefer the number 12000 before any other, as it is the number of the pounds in the great prize. In short, some are pleased to find their own age in their number; some that they have got a number which makes a pretty appearance in the cyphers; and others, because it is the same number that succeeded in the last lottery. Each of these, upon no other grounds, thinks he stands fairest for the great lot, and that he is possessed of what may not be improperly called the _golden number_.

I remember among the advertisements in the “Post Boy” of September the 27th, I was surprised to see the following one:

_This is to give notice, that ten shillings over and above the market-price will be given for the ticket in the 1500000l. Lottery_, N^{o} 132, _by Nath. Cliff, at the Bible and Three Crowns in Cheapside_.

This advertisement has given great matter of speculation to coffee-house theorists. Mr. Cliff’s principles and conversation have been canvassed upon this occasion, and various conjectures made, why he should thus set his heart upon N^{o} 132. I have examined all the powers in those numbers, broken them into fractions, extracted the square and cube root, divided and multiplied them all ways, but could not arrive at the secret till about three days’ ago, when I received the following letter from an unknown hand, by which I find that Mr. Nathaniel Cliff is only the agent, and not the principal, in this advertisement.

“Mr. Spectator,

“I am the person that lately advertised I would give ten shillings more than the current price for the ticket N^{o} 132 in the lottery now drawing; which is a secret I have communicated to some friends, who rally me incessantly upon that account. You must know I have but one ticket, for which reason, and a certain dream I have lately had more than once, I was resolved it should be the number I most approved. I am so positive I have pitched upon the great lot, that I could almost lay all I am worth of it. My visions are so frequent and strong upon this occasion, that I have not only possessed the lot, but disposed of the money which in all probability it will sell for. This morning, in

## particular, I set up an equipage which I look upon to be the gayest in

the town; the liveries are very rich, but not gaudy. I should be very glad to see a speculation or two upon lottery subjects, in which you would oblige all people concerned, and in particular

“Your most humble servant,

“George Gosling.”

“P.S. Dear Spec, if I get the 12000_l._ I’ll make thee a handsome present.”

After having wished my correspondent good luck, and thanked him for his intended kindness, I shall for this time dismiss the subject of the lottery, and only observe, that the greatest part of mankind are in some degree guilty of my friend Gosling’s extravagance. We are apt to rely upon future prospects, and become really expensive while we are only rich in possibility. We live up to our expectations, not to our possessions, and make a figure proportionable to what we may be, not what we are. We outrun our present income, as not doubting to disburse ourselves out of the profits of some future place, project, or reversion that we have in view. It is through this temper of mind, which is so common among us, that we see tradesmen break, who have met with no misfortunes in their business; and men of estates reduced to poverty, who have never suffered from losses or repairs, tenants, taxes, or law-suits. In short, it is this foolish sanguine temper, this depending upon contingent futurities, that occasions romantic generosity, chimerical grandeur, senseless ostentation, and generally ends in beggary and ruin. The man who will live above his present circumstances is in great danger of living in a little time much beneath them, or, as the _Italian_ proverb runs, the man who lives by hope will die by hunger.

It should be an indispensable rule in life, to contract our desires to our present condition, and whatever may be our expectations, to live within the compass of what we actually possess. It will be time enough to enjoy an estate when it comes into our hands; but if we anticipate our good fortune, we shall lose the pleasure of it when it arrives, and may possibly never possess what we have so foolishly counted upon.[445]

[Illustration: ~The Lottery Wheel, 1826.~]

This engraving is slipped on here for the sake of readers who are fond of _cuts_, rather than as an illustration of any thing immediately preceding. An explanation of it will occur in the ensuing sheet, with several amusing prints relating to the present subject.

[Illustration: ~Drawing Prizes.~]

In “_The Examiner_”[446] there is an article on Lotteries by Mr. George Smeeton, of Bermondsey: wherein he says, “I am glad to see that Mr. Hone has taken up the subject in his _Every-Day Book_, by giving us a view of the drawing of the lottery, 1751; and this month (October) I hope he will treat us with a continuation of it. The print by N. Parr, in six compartments, entitled _Les Divertissements de la Loterie_, is worthy of his attention: it is a lively and true picture of the folly, infatuation, and roguery of the times. If he has not the print (which is rather scarce) I can furnish him with it out of my portfolio.” Mr. Smeeton has obligingly communicated the loan of his engraving, from whence the representation on this page has been selected. The original print, designed by J. Marchant, drawn by H. Gravelot, and engraved by Parr, was “published by E. Ryland, in Ave Mary-lane,” in the year 17-- hundred odd; the scissars having snipped away from this copy of the engraving the two figures which particularized the year, it cannot be specified, though from the costume it appears to have been in the reign of George II.

Parr’s print is in six compartments: the four corner ones represent, 1. “Good Luck--£1000 prize;” a scene of rejoicing at the news. 2. “Bad Luck--what, all blanks?” a scene of social disturbance. 3. “Oh--let Fortune be kind;” the desires of a female party in conference with an old woman, who divines by coffee-grounds. 4. “Dear Doctor! consult the stars;” another female party waiting on a fortune-teller for a cast of his office. The middle compartment at the bottom has a view of “Exchange-alley,” with its frequenters, in high business. The middle compartment, above it, is the drawing of the lottery in the view now placed before the reader, wherein it may be perceived that the female visitants are pewed off on one side and the men on the other; and that the pickpockets dextrously exercise their vocation among the promiscuous crowd at the moment when the drawing of a thousand pound prize excites a strong interest, and a female attracts attention by proclaiming herself the holder of the lucky “No. 765.”

To this eager display of the ticket by the fortunate lady, a representation of a scene at the drawing of “the very last lottery that will ever be drawn in England” might be a collateral illustration.

THE UNFORTUNATE LADY.

On the 2d of November, 1826, a lady named Free, who had come up from the country to try her fortune in the lottery, complained to the Lord Mayor, at the Mansion-house, that she had been deprived of her property, the sixteenth share of a 30,000_l._ prize, by the misconduct of those engaged in conducting the drawing. She stated, that she chose the ticket No. 17,092.

The _Lord Mayor_.--You had some particular reason, then, for selecting that number?

The _Complainant_ replied, it was true, she had; she wished to have a ticket with the number of the year in which she was born, and finding that she could not get that precise number, she took one of 17,000, instead of 1700, as the most fortunate approach. So indeed it turned out to be; for she was sitting in the hall where the lottery was drawn, and heard her number distinctly cried out as one of the 30,000_l._ prizes, and with her own eyes she distinctly saw the officer stamp it. Nevertheless, another ticket had been returned as the prize.

The _Lord Mayor_ doubted, from the manner in which the tickets were well known to be drawn, whether the complainant’s anxiety had not made her mistake a similar number for her own.

The _Complainant_.--“Oh no, my lord; it is impossible that I can be mistaken, though other people say I am. I shall not give up my claim, on the word of lottery-office clerks. If there’s any mistake, it is on their part; I trust to my own _senses_.”

The _Lord Mayor_ observed, that there was scarcely any trusting even to the “senses” on such occasions; and asked her, whether she did not almost feel the money in her pockets at the very time she fancied she heard her number announced?

The _Complainant_ assured his lordship, that she heard the announcement as calmly as could be expected, and that she by no means fainted away. She certainly made sure of having the property; she sat in the hall, and went out when the other expectants came away.

Mr. Cope, the marshal, who stated that he was in attendance officially at the drawing, to keep the peace, declared that he heard all the fortunate numbers announced, and he was sorry to be compelled to state his conviction that this belonging to the lady was not one of them.

The _Lord Mayor_ said, he was afraid the complainant had deceived herself. He dismissed the application, recommending her to go to the stamp-office, and apply to the commissioners, who would do any thing except pay the money to satisfy her.[447]

In allusion to the lady’s name, and his decision on her case, his lordship is said to have observed on her departure, “not Free and _Easy_.”

* * * * *

Reverting to a former period, for the sake of including some remarkable notices of lotteries adduced by Mr. Smeeton, we find him saying, on the authority of the “London Gazette,” May 17, 1688, that, besides the lottery at the Vere-street theatre, “Ogilby, the better to carry on his _Britannia_, had a lottery of books at _Garraway’s Coffee-house_, in ‘Change-alley.”

Mr. Smeeton has the following three paragraphs:--

Lotteries of various kinds seem to have been very general about this period; indeed so much so, that government, issued a notice in the _London Gazette_, Sept. 27, 1683, to prevent the drawing of any lotteries (and especially a newly-invented lottery, under the name of the riffling, or raffling lottery) except those under his majesty’s letters patent for thirteen years, granted to persons for their sufferings, and have their seal of office with this inscription--‘_Meliora Designavi_.’

In 1683, prince Rupert dying rather poor, a plan was devised to “raise the wind” by disposing of all his jewels; but as the public were not satisfied with the mode of drawing the lotteries, on account of the many cheats practised on them, they would not listen to any proposals, until the _king himself_ guaranteed to see that all was fair, and also, that Mr. Francis Child, the goldsmith, at Temple-bar, London, would be answerable for their several adventures; as appears by the _London Gazette_, Oct. 1, 1683:--“These are to give notice, that the jewels of his late royal highness prince Rupert have been particularly valued and appraised by Mr. Isaac Legouch, Mr. Christopher Rosse, and Mr. Richard Beauvoir, jewellers, the whole amounting to twenty thousand pounds, and will be sold by way of lottery, each lot to be five pounds. The biggest prize will be a great pearl necklace, valued at 8,000_l._, and none less than 100_l._ A printed particular of the said appraisement, with their divisions into lots, will be delivered gratis, by Mr. Francis Child, at Temple-bar, London, into whose hands such as are willing to be adventurers are desired to pay their money, on or before the first day of November next. As soon as the whole sum is paid in, a short day will be appointed (which, it is hoped, will be before Christmas) and notified in the _Gazette_, for the drawing thereof, which will be done in his majesty’s presence, who is pleased to declare, that _he himself will see all the prizes put in amongst the blanks_, and that the whole will be managed with equity and fairness, nothing being intended but the sale of the said jewels at a moderate value. And it is further notified, for the satisfaction of all as shall be adventurers, that the said Mr. Child shall and will stand obliged to each of them for their several adventures. And that each adventurer shall receive their money back if the said lottery be not drawn and finished before the first day of February next.”--Mr. Child was the first regular banker: he began business soon after the Restoration, and received the honour of knighthood. He lived in Fleet-street, where the shop still continues in a state of the highest respectability. A subsequent notice says, “that the king will probably, tomorrow, in the Banquetting-house, see all the blanks told over, that they may not exceed their number; and that the papers on which the prizes are to be written shall be rolled up in his presence; and that a child, appointed either by his majesty or the adventurers, shall draw the prizes.”--What would be said now, if his present majesty were to be employed in sorting, folding, and counting the blanks and prizes in the present lottery?

About 1709, there was the _Greenwich Hospital Adventure_, sanctioned by an act of parliament, which the managers describe as “liable to none of the objections made against other lotteries, _as to the fairness_ of the drawing, it not being possible there should be any deceit in it, _as it has been suspected in others_.”--Likewise there was Mr. Sydenham’s _Land Lottery_, who declared it was “found very difficult and troublesome for the adventurers for to search and find out what prizes they have come up in their number-tickets, _from the badness of the print_, the _many errors in them_, and the _great quantity of prizes_.”--The _Twelve-penny_, or _Nonsuch_, and the _Fortunatus_ lotteries, also flourished at the commencement of the eighteenth century.[448]

LOTTERY OF DEER.

In May, 1715, the proprietors of Sion gardens advertised the following singular method of selling deer from their park. They appointed the afternoons of Mondays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, for killing those animals; when the public were admitted at one shilling each to see the operation, or they might purchase tickets from four to ten shillings, which entitled them, it is supposed, by way of _lottery_, to different parts of the beast,--as they say the quantity killed was to be divided into sixteen lots, and the first choice to be governed by the numbers on the tickets: a ten shilling ticket was entitled to a fillet; eight, a shoulder; seven, a loin, &c. If the full price of the deer was not received on a given day, the keeper held the money till that sum was obtained. They offered to sell whole deer, and to purchase as many as might be offered.[449]

HARBURGH LOTTERY.

In 1723, the resentment of the house of commons was directed against the scheme of a lottery to be drawn at Harburgh, a town of Hanover on the Elbe, opposite Hamburgh, in the king’s German dominions. A committee inquired into this and other lotteries at that time on foot in London. The scheme pretended to raise a subscription for maintaining a trade between Great Britain and the king’s territories on the Elbe. It was a mysterious scene of iniquity, which the committee, with all their penetration, could not fully discover; but they reported, that it was an infamous, fraudulent undertaking, whereby many unwary persons had been drawn in, to their great loss: that the manner of carrying it on had been a manifest violation of the laws of the kingdom: that the managers and agents of this lottery had, without any authority, made use of his majesty’s royal name to countenance the infamous project, and induce his majesty’s subjects to engage or be concerned therein. A bill was brought in to suppress this lottery, and to oblige its managers to make restitution of the money they had received from the contributors. At the same time the house resolved, That John lord viscount Barrington had been notoriously guilty of promoting, abetting, and carrying on the fraudulent undertaking; for which offence he should be expelled the house.[450]

BANK CLERKS’ FINESSE.

On the 31st of August, 1731, a scene was presented which strongly marks the infatuation and ignorance of lottery adventurers. The tickets for the State Lottery were delivered out to the subscribers at the Bank of England; when the crowd becoming so great as to obstruct the clerks, they told them, “We deliver blanks to-day, but to-morrow we shall deliver prizes;” upon which many, who were by no means for blanks, retired, and by this bold stratagem the clerks obtained room to proceed in their business. In this lottery “her majesty presented his royal highness the duke with ten tickets.”[451]

LOVE, DEATH, AND THE LOTTERY.

Early in the reign of George II., the footman of a lady of quality, under the absurd infatuation of a dream, disposed of the savings of the last twenty years of his life in two lottery tickets, which proving blanks, after a few melancholy days, he put an end to his life. In his box was found the following plan of the manner in which he should spend the five thousand pound prize, which his mistress preserved as a curiosity:--

“As soon as I have received the money, I will marry Grace Towers; but, as she has been cross and coy, I will use her as a servant. Every morning she shall get me a mug of strong beer, with a toast, nutmeg, and sugar in it; then I will sleep till ten, after which I will have a large sack posset. My dinner shall be on table by one, and never without a good pudding. I will have a stock of wine and brandy laid in. About five in the afternoon I will have tarts and jellies, and a gallon bowl of punch; at ten, a hot supper of two dishes. If I am in a good-humour, and Grace _behaves herself_, she shall sit down with me. To bed about twelve.”[452]

FIELDING’S FARCE.

In 1731, Henry Fielding wrote a farce for Drury-lane Theatre, called “The Lottery,” to which, in 1732, he added a new scene. This pleasant representation of characters usually influenced to speculate in such schemes, was acted with considerable success, especially about the time when the lottery was drawn at Guildhall, and may well be conceived as calculated to abate the popular furor. It opens with a lottery-office keeper--

_Mr._ Stocks, _alone_.

AIR.

A Lottery is a Taxation, Upon all the Fools in Creation; And, Heaven be prais’d, It is easily rais’d, Credulity’s always in Fashion: For Folly’s a Fund Will never lose Ground, While Fools are so rife in the Nation.

[_Knocking without._

_Enter_ 1 Buyer.

_1 Buy._ Is not this a House where People buy _Lottery Tickets_?

_Stoc._ Yes, Sir--I believe I can furnish you with as good Tickets as any one.

_1 Buy._ I suppose, Sir, ’tis all one to you what Number a Man fixes on.

_Stoc._ Any of my Numbers.

_1 Buy._ Because I would be glad to have it, Sir, the Number of my own Years, or my Wife’s; or, if I cou’d not have either of those, I wou’d be glad to have it the Number of my Mother’s.

_Stoc._ Ay, or suppose, now, it was the Number of your Grandmother’s?

_1 Buy._ No, no! She has no Luck in Lotteries: She had a whole Ticket once, and got but fifty Pounds by it.

_Stoc._ A very unfortunate Person, truly. Sir, my Clerk will furnish you, if you’ll walk that way up to the office. Ha, ha, ha!--There’s one 10,000_l._ got!--What an abundance of imaginary rich men will one month reduce to their former Poverty. [_Knocking without._] Come in.

_Enter_ 2 Buyer.

_2 Buy._ Does not your Worship let Horses, Sir?

_Stoc._ Ay, Friend.

_2 Buy._ I have got a little Money by driving a Hackney-Coach, and I intend to ride it out in the Lottery.

_Stoc._ You are in the right, it is the way to drive your own Coach.

_2 Buy._ I don’t know, Sir, that--but I am willing to be in _Fortune’s_ way, as the saying is.

_Stoc._ You are a wise Man, and it is not impossible but you may be a rich one--’tis not above--no matter, how many to one, but that you are this Night worth 10,000_l._

_2 Buy._ An belike you, Sir, I wou’d willingly ride upon the Number of my Coach.

_Stoc._ Mr. _Trick_, let that Gentleman the Number of his Coach--[_Aside._] No matter whether we have it, or no.--As the Gentleman is riding to a Castle in the Air, an airy Horse is the properest to carry him. [_Knocking hard without._] Heyday! this is some Person of Quality, by the Impudence of the Footman.

_Enter_ Lady.

_Lady._ Your Servant, Mr. _Stocks_.

_Stoc._ I am your Ladyship’s most obedient Servant.

_Lady._ I am come to buy some Tickets, and hire some Horses, Mr. _Stocks_--I intend to have twenty Tickets, and ten Horses every Day.

_Stoc._ By which, if your Ladyship has any Luck, you may very easily get 30 or 40,000_l._

_Lady._ Please to look at those Jewels, Sir--they cost my Lord upwards of 6000_l._--I intend to lay out what you will lend upon ’em.

[_Knocking without._

_Stoc._ If your Ladyship pleases to walk up into the Dining-Room, I’ll wait on you in a Moment.

[_Chloe, a lady, holding an undrawn Lottery Ticket, which, from what a fortune-teller told her, what she saw in a coffee dish, and what she dreamt every night, she is confident would come up a prize of ten thousand pounds, desires to consult Mr. Stocks as to how she should lay out the money._]

_Enter_ Stocks.

_Stoc._ I had the Honour of receiving your Commands, Madam.

_Chloe._ Sir, your humble Servant--Your Name is Mr. _Stocks_, I suppose.

_Stoc._ So I am call’d in the Alley, Madam; a Name, tho’ I say it, which wou’d be as well receiv’d at the Bottom of a Piece of Paper, as any He’s in the Kingdom. But if I mistake not, Madam, you wou’d be instructed how to dispose of 10,000_l._

_Chloe._ I wou’d so, Sir.

_Stoc._ Why, Madam, you know, at present, Publick Interest is very low, and private Securities very difficult to get--and I am sorry to say, I am afraid there are some in the Alley who are not the honestest Men in the Kingdom. In short, there is one way to dispose of Money with Safety and Advantage, and that is--to put it into the _Charitable Corporation_.

_Chloe._ The _Charitable Corporation_! pray what is that?

_Stoc._ That is, Madam, a method, invented by some very wise Men, by which the Rich may be charitable to the Poor, and be Money in Pocket by it.

THE CHARITABLE CORPORATION.

This company, erected in 1707, professed to lend money at legal interest to the poor upon small pledges; and to persons of better rank upon security of goods impawned. Their capital, at first limited to £30,000, was by licenses from the crown increased to £600,000, though their charter was never confirmed by act of parliament. In 1731, George Robinson, esquire, member for Marlow, the cashier, and John Thompson, warehouse-keeper of the corporation, disappeared in one day. The alarmed proprietors held several general courts, and appointed a committee to inspect their affairs, who reported, that for a capital of above £500,000 no equivalent was found; inasmuch as their effects did not amount to the value of £30,000, the remainder having been embezzled. The proprietors, in a petition to the house of commons, represented that, by a notorious breach of trust, the corporation had been defrauded of the greatest part of their capital; and that many of the petitioners were reduced to the utmost misery and distress: they therefore prayed parliament to inquire into the state of the corporation, and the conduct of their managers, and extend relief to the petitioners. On this petition a secret committee was appointed, who soon discovered a most iniquitous scene of fraud, perpetrated by Robinson and Thompson, in concert with some of the directors, for embezzling the capital, and cheating the proprietors. Many persons of rank and quality were concerned in this infamous conspiracy. Sir Robert Sutton and sir Archibald Grant were expelled the house of commons, as having had a considerable share in those fraudulent practices, and a bill was brought in to restrain them and other delinquents from leaving the kingdom, or alienating their effects.[453] In 1733, parliament granted a lottery in behalf of the sufferers. On the 1st of August in that year, books were opened at the bank to receive, from those who had given in their names, the first payment of one pound per ticket in the “Lottery for the relief of the Charitable Corporation;”[454] and in 1734 “it was distributed among them, amounting to nine shillings and ninepence in the pound on their loss.”[455]

* * * * *

The “London Journal” of October 30, 1731, observing on the general disposition to adventure says:--

The _natural life_ of man is _labour or business_; riches is an _unnatural_ state; and therefore generally a _state of misery_. Life, which is a drug in the hands of _idle men_, never hangs heavily on the hands of merchants and tradesmen, who judiciously divide their time between the city and country.

This is so true, that a wise man would never leave his children so much money as to put them _beyond industry_; for that is too often putting them _beyond happiness_. The _heaping up riches_ for posterity is, generally speaking, _heaping up destruction_; and entailing of _large estates_, entailing _vice and misery_.

These thoughts were occasioned by the present _state lottery_; which plainly discovers that the people would run into the excesses of the _South Sea_ year, had they the same opportunities. The spring and source of this _unreasonable passion_, is the _luxury of the age_. _Tradesmen_ commence gentlemen and _men of pleasure_, when they should be _men of business_; and _begin_ where they should _end_. This sets them a madding after _lotteries_; business is neglected, and poverty, vice, and misery spread among the people. It is hoped that the _Parliament_ will never come into another _lottery_. All other gaming should be also discouraged. Who but laments that unfortunate young lady at the _Bath_, who was ruined by gaming, and rather than submit to a _mean dependance_, thought it best to resign her life?[456]

The tone of dissuasion from lotteries and gambling in the year 1731, prevails through the writings of the different persons who opposed such schemes and practices. The story of the “unfortunate young lady at the Bath, who was ruined by gaming,” referred to in the last paragraph, and already related in this work, is exceedingly affecting.

WESTMINSTER BRIDGE LOTTERY.

In the 9th year of George II. parliament passed an act for building this bridge by a lottery, and the following scheme was issued to the public:--

LOTTERY 1736, _for raising 100000l. for building a Bridge at_ Westminster, _consisting of 125000 Tickets, at 5l. each_.

Prizes 1 -- of -- 20000_l._ -- is -- 20000_l._ 2 -------- 10000 -------- 20000 3 -------- 5000 -------- 15000 10 -------- 3000 -------- 30000 40 -------- 1000 -------- 40000 60 -------- 500 -------- 30000 100 -------- 200 -------- 20000 200 -------- 100 -------- 20000 400 -------- 50 -------- 20000 1000 -------- 20 -------- 20000 28800 -------- 10 -------- 288000 ----- ------ 30616 Prizes, amounting to -- -- 523000 94384 Blanks. First Drawn -- -- -- -- 1000 Last Drawn -- -- -- -- 1000 ------ ------ 125000 525000 ------ ------

The Prizes to be paid at the Bank in 40 Days after Drawing, without Deduction. _N.B._ _There is little more than Three_ Blanks _to a_ Prize.[457]

Parliament granted successive lotteries for the building and completion of Westminster-bridge.

AN ORGAN LOTTERY.

In 1737, Horace Walpole (Lord Orford) says, “I am now in pursuit of getting the finest piece of music that ever was heard; it is a thing that will play eight tunes. Handel and all the great musicians say, that it is beyond any thing they can do; and this may be performed by the most ignorant person; and when you are weary of those eight tunes, you may have them changed for any other that you like. This I think much better than going to an Italian opera, or an assembly. This performance has been lately put into a _Lottery_, and all the royal family chose to have a great many tickets, rather than to buy it, the price being I think 1000_l._, infinitely a less sum than some bishopricks have been sold for. And a gentleman won it, who I am in hopes will sell it, and if he will, I will buy it, for I cannot live to have another made, and I will carry it into the country with me.”

* * * * *

In the State Lottery of 1739, tickets, chances, and shares were “bought and sold by Richard Shergold, printer to the honourable the commissioners of the Lottery, at his office at the Union Coffee-house over and against the Royal Exchange, Cornhill.” He advertised, that he kept numerical books during the drawing, and a book wherein buyers might register their numbers at sixpence each; that 15 _per cent. was to be deducted_ out of the prizes, which were to be paid at the bank in fifty days after the drawing was finished; and that “schemes in French and English” were given gratis.[458]

The per centage to be deducted from the prizes in this lottery occasioned the following

EPIGRAM.

This lottery can never thrive, Was broker heard to say, For who but fools will ever give _Fifteen per cent_ to play.

A sage, with his accustomed grin, Replies, I’ll stake my doom, That if but half the fools come in The wise will find no room.[459]

LOTTERY AT STATIONERS’ HALL.

On the 23d of November, 1741, “the drawing of the Bridge Lottery began at _Stationers’ Hall_.--_The Craftsman_ of the 28th says, that every 100,000_l._ laid out in a lottery puts a stop to the circulation of at least 300,000_l._, and occasions almost a total suppression of trade.”[460]

* * * * *

In June, 1743, “the price of lottery tickets having risen from 10_l._ to 11_l._ 10_s._ some persons, who probably wanted to purchase, published a hint to the _unwary_ adventurers, that they gamed at 50 _per cent._ loss; paying, at that price, 2_s._ 6_d._ to play for 5_s._; the money played for being only three pound, besides discount and deductions.”[461]

TICKET STUCK IN THE WHEEL.

On the 5th of January, 1774, at the conclusion of drawing the State Lottery at Guildhall, No. 11,053, as the last drawn ticket, was declared to be entitled to the 1000_l._, and was so printed in the paper of benefits by order of the commissioners. It was besides a prize of 100_l._ But after the wheels were carried back to Whitehall and there opened, the ticket No. 72,248 was found _sticking in a crevice_ of the wheel. And, being the next drawn ticket after all the prizes were drawn, was advertised by the commissioners’ order as entitled to the 1000_l._, as the _last drawn_ ticket: “which affair made a great deal of noise.”[462]

A PEER’S SUBSTITUTE FOR LOTTERIES.

On the bill, for a lottery to succeed the preceding, being brought into the house of lords, a peer said, that such measures always were censured by those that saw their nature and their tendency. “They have been considered as legal cheats, by which the ignorant and the rash are defrauded, and the subtle and avaricious often enriched. They have been allowed to divert the people from trade, and to alienate them from useful industry. A man who is uneasy in his circumstances, and idle in his disposition, collects the remains of his fortune, and buys tickets in a lottery, retires from business, indulges himself in laziness, and waits, in some obscure place, the event of his adventure. Another, instead of employing his stock in a shop or a warehouse, rents a garret in a private street, and make it his business, by false intelligence, and chimerical alarms, to raise and sink the price of tickets alternately, and takes advantage of the lies which he has himself invented. If I, my lords, might presume to recommend to our ministers the most probable method of raising a large sum for the payment of the troops of the electorate, I should, instead of the tax and lottery now proposed, advise them to establish a certain number of licensed wheel-barrows, on which the laudable trade of thimble and button might be carried on for the support of the war, and shoe-boys might contribute to the defence of the house of _Austria_, by raffling for apples.”

CHANCES OF TICKETS.

The State Lottery of 1751 seems to have encountered considerable opposition. There is a discouraging notice in the “Gentleman’s Magazine” on the 4th of July in that year, that “those inclined to become adventurers in the present lottery were cautioned in the papers to wait some time before they purchased tickets, whereby the jobbers would be disappointed of their market, and obliged to sell at a lower price. At the present rate of tickets the adventurer plays at 35 per cent. loss.”

In the next month, August, the “London Magazine” exhibited the following computation.

IN THE LOTTERY 1751, IT IS

69998 to 2 or 34999 to 1 against a £10000 prize. 69994 to 6 or 11665 to 1 against a 5000 or upwards. 69989 to 11 or 6363 to 1 against a 3000 69981 to 19 or 3683 to 1 against a 2000 69961 to 39 or 1794 to 1 against a 1000 69920 to 80 or 874 to 1 against a 500 69720 to 280 or 249 to 1 against a 100 69300 to 700 or 99 to 1 against a 50 60000 to 10000 or 6 to 1 against a 20 or any prize.

The writer says, I would beg the favour of all gentlemen, tradesmen, and others, to take the pains to explain to such as any way depend upon their judgment, that one must buy no less than seven tickets to have an even chance for any prize at all; that with only one ticket, it is six to one, and with half a ticket, twelve to one against any prize; and ninety-nine or a hundred to one that the prize, if it comes, will not be above fifty pounds; and no less than thirty-five thousand to one that the owner of a single ticket will not obtain one of the greatest prizes. No lottery is proper for persons of very small fortunes, to whom the loss of five or six pounds is of great consequence, besides the disturbance of their minds; much less is it advisable or desirable for either poor or rich to contribute to the exorbitant tax of more than two hundred thousand pounds, which the first engrossers of lottery tickets, and the brokers and dealers strive to raise, out of the pockets of the poor chiefly, and the silly rich partly, by artfully enhancing the price of tickets above the original cost.

The prices of tickets in this lottery was ten pounds. On their rise a Mr. Holland publicly offered to lay four hundred guineas, that four hundred tickets, when drawn, did not amount to nine pounds fifteen shillings on an average, prizes and blanks; his advertisement was never answered.

These animadversions on the scheme, and the resistance offered to the endeavours of the brokers and dealers to effect a rise in the price of tickets, appear, from the following lines published in October, to have been to a certain degree successful--

A NEW SONG

_From ‘Change-alley, occasioned by a stagnation of the sale of Lottery Tickets._

While guineas were plenty, we thought we might rise, Nor dreamt of a magpye to pick out our eyes; ’Twas twelve would have satisfy’d all our desire, Tho’ perhaps without pain we might see them mount higher. Derry down, down, down derry, &c.

How sweet were the pickings we formerly gain’d, From whence our fine daughters their fortunes obtain’d! In our coaches can roll, at the public can smile, Whose follies reward all our labour and toil. Derry down, &c.

Then let them spin out their fine scheme as they will, No horseshoe nor magpye shall baffle our skill; In triumph we’ll ride, and, in spite of the rout, Our point we’ll obtain without wheeling about. Derry down, &c.

Tho’ sturdy these beggars, yet weak are their brains; Who offer to check us, must smart for their pains; In concert united, we’ll laugh at the tribe, Who play off their engines to damp all our pride. Derry down, &c.

Let Holland no longer appear with his brags, His four hundred guineas keep safe in his bags, Nor think we’re such fools to risque any thing down, By way of a wager to humour the town. Derry down, &c.[463]

* * * * *

On the 11th of the next month, November, the drawing of the State Lottery began, when, notwithstanding the united efforts of several societies and public-spirited gentlemen to check the exorbitancy of the ticket-mongers, the price rose to sixteen guineas just before drawing. All means were tried to cure this infatuation by writing and advertising; particularly on the first day of drawing, it was publicly averred, that near eight thousand tickets were in the South Sea House, and upwards of thirty thousand pawned at bankers, &c. that nine out of ten of the ticket-holders were not able to go into the wheel; and that not one of them durst stand the drawing above six days. It was also demonstrated in the clearest manner, that to have an even chance for any prize a person must have seven tickets; that with only one ticket it was six to one; and ninety-nine to one that the prize, if it came, would not be above fifty pounds, and no less than thirty-five thousand to one that the owner of a single ticket would not obtain one of the greatest prizes.--Yet, notwithstanding these and other precautions, people still suffered themselves to be deluded, and the monied men arrogantly triumphed.[464]

A LOTTERY JOB IN IRELAND.

In August, 1752, a lottery was set on foot at Dublin, under the pretext of raising 13,700_l._ for rebuilding Essex-bridge, and other public and charitable uses. There were to be 100,000 tickets, at a guinea each. The lords justices of Ireland issued an order to suppress this lottery. The measure occasioned a great uproar in Dublin; for it appears, that the tickets bore a premium, and that though the original subscribers were to have their money returned, the buyers at the advanced price would lose the advance. Every purchaser of a single ticket in this illegal lottery incurred a penalty of 50_l._ for each offence, and the seller 500_l._, one third of which went to the informer, a third to the king, and the other third to the poor of the parish; besides which, the offenders were subject to a year’s close imprisonment in the county gaol.[465]

LEHEUP’S FRAUD.

To prevent the monopoly of tickets in the State Lottery, it had been enacted, that persons charged with the delivery of tickets should not sell more than twenty to one person. This provision was evaded by pretended lists, which defeated the object of parliament and injured public credit, insomuch that, in 1754, more tickets were subscribed for than the holders of the lists had cash to purchase, and there was a deficiency in the first payment. The mischief and notoriety of these practices occasioned the house of commons to prosecute an inquiry into the circumstances, which, though opposed by a scandalous cabal, who endeavoured to screen the delinquents, ended in a report by the committee, that Peter Leheup, esq. had privately disposed of a great number of tickets before the office was opened to which the public were directed by an advertisement to apply; that he also delivered great numbers to particular persons, upon lists of names which he knew to be fictitious; and that, in particular, Sampson Gideon became proprietor of more than six thousand, which he sold at a premium. Upon report of these and other illegal acts, the house resolved that Leheup was guilty of a violation of the act, and a breach of trust, and presented an address to his majesty, praying that he would direct the attorney-general to prosecute him in the most effectual manner for his offences.

An information was accordingly filed, and, on a trial at bar in the court of king’s bench, Leheup, as one of the receivers of the last lottery of 300,000_l._, was found guilty: 1. Of receiving subscriptions before the day and hour advertised; 2. Of permitting the subscribers to use different names to cover an excess of twenty tickets; and 3. Of disposing of the tickets which had been bespoke and not claimed, or were double charged, instead of returning them to the managers. In Trinity term, Leheup was brought up for judgment, and fined 1000_l._, which he paid in court. As he had amassed forty times that sum by his frauds, the lenity of the sentence was the subject of severe remark.[466]

LOTTERY INSANITY.

November 5, 1757, Mr. Keys, late clerk to Cotton and Co., who had absented himself ever since the 7th of October, the day the 10,000_l._ was drawn in the lottery, (supposed to be his property,) was found in the streets raving mad, having been robbed of his pocket-book and ticket.[467]

* * * * *

The subjoined verses appeared in 1761:[468]--

_A few Thoughts on Lotteries._

A Lottery, like a magic spell, All ranks of men bewitches, Whose beating bosoms vainly swell With hopes of sudden riches:

With hope to gain TEN THOUSAND POUND How many post to ruin, And for an empty, airy sound Contrive their own undoing!

Those on whom wealth her stores had shed, May firmly bear their crosses; But they who earn their daily bread, Oft sink beneath their losses.

’Tis strange, so many fools we find, By tickets thus deluded, And, by a trifling turn of mind, From life’s blest bliss excluded.

For life’s best blessing, calm content, Attends no more his slumbers, Who dreams of profit, cent. per cent. And sets his heart on numbers.

Thro’ all life’s various stages, care Our peace will oft disquiet; Like a free-gift it comes, we ne’er Need be in haste to buy it.

He who, intent on shadowy schemes, By them is deeply bubbled, Deserves to wake from golden dreams, With disappointment doubled.

Unmoved by Fortune’s fickle wheel, The wise man chance despises; And Prudence courts with fervent zeal-- She gives the highest prizes.

LARGE DIVISION OF TICKETS.

In some of the old lotteries tickets were divided into a much greater number of shares than of late years. There is an example of this in the following

_Advertisement, November, 1766._

DAME FORTUNE presents her respects to the public, and assures them that she has fixed her residence for the present at CORBETT’S, State Lottery-office, opposite St. Dunstan’s-church, Fleet-street; and, to enable many families to partake of her favours, she has ordered not only the tickets to be sold at the lowest prices, but also that they be _divided into shares at the following low rates_, viz:--

£ _s._ _d._ A sixty-fourth 0 4 0 Thirty-second 0 7 6 Sixteenth 0 15 0 An eighth 1 10 0 A Fourth 3 0 0 A half 6 0 0

By which may be gained from upwards of one hundred and fifty to upwards of five thousand guineas, at her said office No. 30.

A NUMBER TWICE SOLD.

The lottery of 1766 was unfortunate to a lottery-office keeper. The ticket No. 20,99 was purchased in the alley for Pagen Hale, esq. of Hertfordshire; and the same number was also divided into shares at a lottery-office near Charing-cross, and some of the shares actually sold. The number purchased in the alley was the real number, but that divided by the office-keeper was done by mistake, for which he paid a proportionable sum.

* * * * *

During the lottery of 1767, the stockbrokers fell among thieves. Mr. Hugnes, a stock-broker, had his pocket picked in Jonathan’s coffee-house of fifty lottery tickets, the value of which (at the price then sold) was 800_l._ The same evening three other brokers had their pockets picked of their purses, one containing sixty-two guineas, another seven, and the third five. One of the pick-pockets was afterwards apprehended, on whom thirty-five of the tickets were found, and recovered; the other fifteen he said were carried to Holland by his accomplices.

* * * * *

The preceding anecdotes are in the newspapers of the time, together with the following, which strongly marks the perversion of a weak mind. “A gentlewoman in Holborn, whose husband had presented her with a ticket, put up prayers in the church, the day before drawing, in the following manner: _The prayers of the congregation are desired for the success of a person engaged in a new undertaking_.”

A FRAUDULENT INSURER.

In January, 1768, an insurer of tickets was summoned before a magistrate, for refusing to pay thirty guineas to an adventurer, upon the coming up of a certain number a blank, for which he had paid a premium of three guineas. The insurer was ordered immediately to pay thirty guineas, which he was obliged to comply with to prevent worse consequences.[469] In other words, the magistrate was too weak to exert the power he was armed with, by law, against both the insurer and the insured.

LOVE TICKETS.

Mr. Charles Holland, the actor, who died on the 7th of December, 1769, received many letters of passionate admiration from a lady who fell in love with him from his appearance on the stage; and she accompanied one of her declarations of attachment by four lottery tickets as a present.[470]

GOOD AND ILL LUCK.

In the lottery of 1770, the holder of the ticket entitled to the capital prize or 20,000_l._ was captain Towry of Isleworth. A very remarkable circumstance put it in his possession: Mr. Barnes, a grocer in Cheapside, purchased four following numbers, one of which this was; but thinking the chance not so great in so many following ones, he carried this very ticket back to the office, and changed it for another.

A LITTLE GO.

October 14, 1770, a case was determined at the general quarter session of the peace for the county of Wilts, held at Marlborough. A quack doctor had been convicted before Thomas Johnson, esq. of Bradford, in the penalty of 200_l._ for disposing of plate, &c. by means of a device or lottery; and by a second information convicted of the same offence before Joseph Mortimer, esq. of Trowbridge. To both these convictions he appealed to the justices at the general quarter session of the peace, when, after a trial of near ten hours, the bench unanimously confirmed the conviction on both informations, by which the appellant was subjected to the penalties of 200_l._ on each, and costs.[471]

INSURANCE CAUSE.

On the 1st of March, 1773, a cause of great public concern came on to be tried before lord Mansfield, at Guildhall, wherein the lord mayor was plaintiff, and Messrs. Barnes and Golightly were defendants, in order to determine the legality of insuring lottery tickets; but on account of an error in the declaration the plaintiff was nonsuited.

On the 17th of the same month, “Mr. Sheriff Lewes presented a petition from the city of London, against the frequent toleration of lotteries in the time of peace; but the petition was ordered to lie upon the table.--No government can long subsist, that is reduced to the necessity of supporting itself by fraudulent gaming.”[472]

TRICKS OF AN INSURER.

June 26, 1775, a cause came on in the court of common pleas, Guildhall, between a gentleman, plaintiff, and a lottery-office keeper of this city, defendant; the cause of this action was as follows: the gentleman, passing by the lottery-office, observed a woman and boy crying, on which he asked the reason of their tears; they informed him, that they had insured a number in the lottery on the over night, and, upon inquiry at another office, found it to have been drawn five days before, and therefore wanted their money returned; the gentleman, taking their part, was assaulted and beat by the office-keeper, for which the jury gave a verdict in favour of the gentleman with five pounds damages.[473]

PROCEEDINGS RESPECTING A BLUE-COAT BOY.

In 1775, some of the boys of Christ’s Hospital, appointed to draw numbers and chances from the wheel, were tampered with, for the purpose of inducing them to commit a fraud. These attempts were successful in one instance, and led to certain regulations, which will presently be stated.

On the 1st of June, a man was carried before the lord mayor for attempting to bribe the two blue-coat boys who drew the Museum Lottery at Guildhall to conceal a ticket, and to bring it to him, promising that he would next day return it to them. His intention was to insure it in all the offices, with a view to defraud the office-keepers. The boys were honest, gave notice of the intended fraud, and pointed out the delinquent, who, however, was discharged, as there existed no law to punish the offence.

On the 5th of December, one of the blue-coat boys who drew the numbers in the State Lottery at Guildhall was examined before sir Charles Asgill, relative to a number that had been drawn out the Friday before, on which an insurance had been made in almost every office in London. The boy confessed, that he was prevailed upon to conceal the ticket No. 21,481, by a man who gave him money for so doing; that the man copied the number; and that the next day he followed the man’s instructions, and put his hand into the wheel as usual, with the ticket in it, and then pretended to draw it out. The instigator of the offence had actually received 400_l._ of the insurance-office keepers; had all of them paid him, the whole sum would have amounted to 3000_l._ but some of them suspected a fraud had been committed, and caused the inquiry, which obtained the boy’s confession.

On the following day, the person who insured the ticket was examined. He was clerk to a hop-factor in Goodman’s-fields, but not being the person who seduced the boy to secrete the ticket, and no evidence appearing to prove his connection with the person who did, the prisoner was discharged, though it was ascertained that he had insured the number already mentioned ninety-one times in one day.[474]

In consequence of the circumstances discovered by this examination, the lords of the treasury inquired further, and deliberated on the means of preventing similar practices; the result of their conferences was the following “Orders,” which are extracted from the original minutes of the proceedings, and are now for the first time published.

COPY, No. I.

ORDER _of December 12, 1775_.

A DISCOVERY having been made, that WILLIAM TRAMPLET, one of the boys employed in drawing the lottery, had, at the instigation of one CHARLES LOWNDES, (since absconded,) at different times, in former rolls _taken out of the number wheel_ THREE _numbered tickets, which were at_ THREE _several times returned by him into the said wheel, and drawn without his parting with them_, so as to give them the appearance of being fairly drawn, _to answer the purpose of defrauding by insurance_:

IT IS THEREFORE ORDERED, for preventing the like wicked practices in future, that every boy before he is suffered to put his hand into either wheel, be brought by the proclaimer to the managers on duty, for them to see that _the bosoms and sleeves of his coat be closely buttoned_, _his pockets sewed up_, _and his hands examined_; and that during the time of his being on duty, _he shall keep his left hand in his girdle behind him, and his right hand open, with his fingers extended_; and the proclaimer is not to suffer him at any time to leave the wheel without being first examined by the manager nearest him.

The observance of the foregoing order is recommended by the managers on this roll to those on the succeeding rolls, till the matter shall be more fully discussed at a general meeting.

COPY, No. II.

ORDER _at_ GENERAL MEETING.

A PLAN OF RULES AND REGULATIONS to be observed, in order _to prevent the boys committing frauds_, &c., in the drawing of the lottery, agreeable to _directions_ received by Mr. JOHNSON, on Tuesday the 16th of January, 1776, from the LORDS OF THE TREASURY.

THAT ten managers be always on the roll at Guildhall, two of whom are to be conveniently placed opposite the two boys at the wheels, in order to observe that they strictly conform themselves to the rules and orders directed by the committee at Guildhall, on Tuesday, December 12, 1775.

_THAT it be requested of the TREASURER OF CHRIST’S HOSPITAL not to make known who are the twelve boys nominated for drawing the lottery till the morning the drawing begins; which said boys are all to attend every day, and the two who are to go on duty at the wheels are to be taken promiscuously from amongst the whole number_ by either of the secretaries, _without observing any regular course or order; so that no boy shall know when it will be his turn to go to either wheel_.

THIS METHOD, though attended with considerable additional expense, by the extra attendance of two managers and six boys, will, it is presumed, effectually prevent any attempt being made to corrupt or bribe any of the boys to commit the fraud practised in the last lottery.

* * * * *

It is imagined, that to future inquirers concerning lotteries, with a view to its history, the publication of the preceding documents may be acceptable. So long a time has elapsed since the fraud they relate to was perpetrated, that any motive which existed for keeping them private has ceased. The blue-coat boy who secretly abstracted the tickets from the wheel, and afterwards appeared to draw them fairly and openly, will be regarded as having been pitiably exposed to seductions, which might have been prevented if these regulations had been adopted on the complaint of the lad who was tampered with in June. Perhaps it was prudent, though not “quite correct,” to conceal that _three_ tickets had been improperly taken from the wheel: until now, it has not been publicly made known that there was more than _one_; and though, if the point had been tried, that _one_ might have been sufficient to have vitiated the legality of the drawing of the lottery of 1775 altogether, it was not enough, in a popular view, to raise a hue-and-cry among the unfortunate holders against the disturbance of their chances. The concealment of _three_ might have congregated the unsuccessful adventurers of the three kingdoms into an uproar, “one and indivisible,” which, with the law on their side, would have exceedingly puzzled the then lords of the treasury to subdue, without ordering the lottery to have been drawn over again, and raising a fresh clamour among the holders of tickets that had been declared prizes.

LOTTERY SUICIDE.

On the 10th of January, 1777, “a young man, clerk to a merchant in the city, was found in the river below bridge drowned: he had been dabbling in the lottery with his master’s money, and chose this way of settling his accounts.”[475]

A BLANK MADE A PRIZE.

In January, 1777, Joseph Arones and Samuel Noah, two jews, were examined at Guildhall before the lord mayor, charged with counterfeiting the lottery ticket No. 25,590, a prize of 2000_l._, with intent to defraud Mr. Keyser, an office-keeper, knowing the same to have been false and counterfeit. Mr. Keyser had examined the ticket carefully, and had taken it into the Stock-exchange to sell, when Mr. Shewell came into the same box, and desired to look at the ticket, having, as he recollected, purchased one of the same number a day or two before. This fortunate discovery laid open the fraud, and the two jews were committed to take their trial for their ingenuity. It was so artfully altered from 23,590, that not the least erasure could be discerned. Arones was but just come to England, and Noah was thought to be a man of property.

In February following, Arones and Noah were tried at the Old Bailey for the forgery and fraud. Their defence was, that the prisoner Arones found it, and persons were brought to swear it; on which they were acquitted. The figure altered was so totally obliterated by a certain liquid, that not the least trace of it could be perceived.

At the same sessions, Daniel Denny was tried for forging, counterfeiting, and altering a lottery ticket, with intent to defraud; and, being found guilty, was condemned.[476]

INSURING.

In July, 1778, came on to be tried at Guildhall, before lord Mansfield, a cause, wherein a merchant was plaintiff and a lottery-office keeper defendant. The action was brought for suffering a young man, the plaintiff’s apprentice, to insure with the defendant during the drawing of the last lottery, contrary to the statute; whereby the youth lost a considerable sum, the property of the merchant. The jury without going out of court gave a verdict for the plaintiff, thereby subjecting the defendant to pay 500_l._ penalty, and to three months’ imprisonment.[477]

During the same year, parliament having discussed the evil of insuring, and the mischievous subdivision of the shares of tickets, passed an act “for the regulation of Lottery offices,” in which the principal clauses were as follows--

“To oblige every lottery-office keeper to take out a licence, at the expense of 50_l._, and give security not to infringe any part of the act.

“That no person shall dispose of any part of a ticket in any smaller share or proportion than a sixteenth, on 50_l._ penalty.

“That any person selling goods, wares, or other merchandise, or who shall offer any sum or sums of money, upon any chance or event whatsoever, relating to the drawing of any ticket, shall be liable to a penalty of 20_l._

“To enable the commissioners of his majesty’s treasury to establish an office;--all shares to be stamped at that office;--the original tickets from which such shares are to be taken, to be kept at that office till a certain time after drawing;--books of entry to be regularly kept;--persons carrying shares to be stamped to pay a small sum specified in the act;--penalties for persons selling shares not stamped; and a clause for punishing persons who shall forge the stamp of any ticket.”

In 1779, the drawing of the lottery and the conduct of lottery-office keepers was further regulated by act of parliament.[478]

EVASIONS OF THE INSURERS.

The provisions of parliament against the ruinous practice of insurance were evaded by the dexterity of the lottery-office keepers. In 1781, the following proposals were issued by the cunning, and greedily accepted by the credulous.