Chapter V: Part 5

"They bent their wits, on one occasion," continues Mr. Cooper, "to disappoint the tax-gatherer. He was to 'distrain' on a certain day; but beds, chairs, and tables were moved secretly in the night to blind Thomas Chatterton's; and when the tax-gatherer came next day to execute his threat, there was nothing left worth his taking. The poor were often driven to such desperate schemes to save all they had from ruin, in those days; and the curse upon taxes and the tax-gatherer was in the mouths of hundreds--for those years of war were terrific years of suffering for the poor, notwithstanding their shouts and rejoicings when Matthew Guy rode in, with ribbons flying, bringing news of another 'glorious victory.'" "Sometimes," adds Mr. Cooper, "Miller's mother and mine were excused paying some of the taxes by appealing to the magistrates, a few of whom respected them for their industry, and commiserated their hardships. But the petition did not always avail."

In spite of poverty, Miller's childhood was not without its sunshine, and many days spent in the lanes and fields were not the least enjoyable of his pleasures. He was first engaged as a farmer's boy at Thornock, a village near his native town. The trade of basket-making was subsequently learned, and when quite a young man he married. He migrated to Nottingham, and obtained employment as a journeyman at a basket-manufactory in the town.

"At this period," says Dr. Spencer T. Hall, "the Sherwood Forester," "he had a somewhat round but intelligent face, a fair complexion, full, blue, speaking eyes, and a voice reminding one of the deeper and softer tones of a well-played flute. Of all who saw him at his work, it is probable that scarcely one knew how befitting him was the couplet of Virgil, where he says:

'Thus while I sung, my sorrows I deceived,
And bending osiers into baskets weaved.'"

He had the good fortune to become known to Mr. Thomas Bailey, a man of literary taste, the writer of several works, and father of the more famous Philip James Bailey, author of "Festus." Mr. Bailey recognised at once the merits of a collection of poems submitted to him by Miller, was the means of the pieces being printed, and did all in his power to obtain a favourable welcome for the volume. The book was entitled "Songs of Sea Nymphs;" it contained only forty-eight pages, and was sold at two shillings. In his preface the author stated: "I am induced to offer these extracts from unpublished poems in their present state solely because I cannot find any publisher who will undertake, without an extensive list of subscribers, the risk of publishing a volume of poetry written by an individual whose humble station in life buries him in obscurity." He next explains that the object of the work is to elicit the opinion of his country-men as to the merits or demerits of his verses--which he terms "trifles." Mr. Miller says, "Concerning the poems, I have only to add that the three first songs are extracts from an unpublished poem entitled, 'Hero and Leander, a Tale of the Sea.' The scene is chiefly confined to Neptune's palace beneath the waves. The other extracts are from 'Adelaide and Reginald, a Fairy Tale of Bosworth Field.' I am aware that the date is too modern for fairies; however, who can prove it? for so long as a barren circle is found in the velvet valleys of England, tradition will ever call it a fairy-ring. Having launched my little bark on the casual ocean of public opinion, not without anxiety, I leave it to its fate.--Thomas Miller, Basket-maker, Nottingham, August, 1832." The volume was the means of making him many friends, and enabling him to start business on his own account. He had a work-room in the Long Row, and a stall on a Saturday in the market-place. Here is a picture of the stall from Spencer Hall's graphic pen:--"There was poetry in his very baskets. A few coarser ones were there, but others of more beautiful pattern, texture, and colour, flung a sort of bloom over the rest; and the basket-maker and his wares well-matched each other, as he would take his cigar from his mouth, and ask some pretty market maiden, in his cheeriest tones, as she lingered and looked, if she would not like to purchase. As a youth, I was wont to stand there chatting with him occasionally, and to hear him, between customers, pour out the poetry of Coleridge and other great minds, with an appreciance and a melody that such authors might themselves have listened to with pride and delight."

He next moved to London, hoping to follow a literary career by contributing at the commencement to the monthly magazines. Writing gave Miller great pleasure, but put little money in his purse, and to obtain bread for his household he had to work at his trade in the metropolis. Friends at first were few, and he had none able to help him to literary employment. He had journeyed to London alone, and arrived there with seven-and-sixpence in his pocket, intending to send for his wife and family when brighter days dawned. Some time passed before there was a break in the dark clouds which hung over him. Here are particulars of the dawn of better times. "One day," says Mr. Joseph Johnson, in _Manchester Notes and Queries_, "when bending over his baskets, he was surprised by a visit from Mr. W. H. Harrison, editor of _Friendship's Offering_, who had fortunately read one of Miller's poems, and had become impressed with the ability and original talent of the author. The result of the interview was a request that the basket-maker would write a poem for the _Offering_. Miller, at the time, was so poor that he had neither paper, pens, nor ink, nor the means to buy these needful materials for his poem. He tided over the difficulty by using the whity-brown paper in which his sugar had been wrapped, and mixed some soot with water for his ink; the back of a bellows serving him for a desk, upon which he wrote his charming poem, entitled, 'The Old Fountain.' His letter to the editor of the _Offering_ was sealed with moistened bread. The poem was accepted, and two guineas immediately returned. It is simply impossible to imagine the rapture which would fill the breast of the poor poet on receipt of so large a sum." Says Miller, "I never had been so rich in my life before, and I fancied some one would hear of my fortune and try and rob me of it; so, at night, I barred the door, and went to bed, but did not sleep all night, from delight and fear."

We reproduce the lines as a fair example of Miller's poetry:--

THE OLD FOUNTAIN.

"Deep in the bosom of a silent wood,
Where an eternal twilight dimly reigns,
A sculptured fountain hath for ages stood,
O'erhung with trees; and still such awe remains
Around the spot, that few dare venture there--
The babbling water spreads such superstitious fear.

It looks so old and grey, with moss besprent,
And carven imag'ry, grotesque or quaint;
Eagles and lions are with dragons blent
And cross-winged cherub; while o'er all a Saint
Bends grimly down with frozen blown-back hair,
And on the dancing spray its dead eyes ever stare.

From out a dolphin's mouth the water leaps
And frets, and tumbles to its bed of gloom;
So dark the umbrage under which it sweeps,
Stretching in distance like a dreary tomb;
With murmurs fraught, and many a gibbering sound,
Gurgle, and moan, and hiss, and plash, and fitful bound.

Oh! 'tis a spot where man might sit and weep
His childish griefs and petty cares away;
Wearied Ambition might lie there and sleep,
And hoary Crime in silence kneel to pray.
The fountain's voice, the day-beams faintly given,
Tell of that starlight land we pass in dreams to heaven.

There, lovely forms in elder times were seen,
And snowy kirtles waved between the trees;
And light feet swept along the velvet green,
While the rude anthem rose upon the breeze,
When round the margin England's early daughters
Worshipped the rough-hewn Saint that yet bends o'er the waters.

And some bent priest, whose locks were white as snow,
Would raise his trembling hands and voice to pray;
All would be hushed save that old fountain's flow
That rolling bore the echoes far away;
Perchance a dove, amid the foliage dim,
Might raise a coo, then pause to list their parting hymn.

That old grey abbey lies in ruins now,
The wild-flowers wave where swung its pond'rous door;
Where once the altar rose, rank nettles grow,
The anthem's solemn sound is heard no more;
'Tis as if Time had laid down to repose,
Drowsed by the fountain's voice, which through the forest flows."

He wrote and worked at his trade; his poetry won for him many admirers, amongst them Lady Blessington, Thomas Moore, Samuel Rogers, the banker-poet, and others, and he was welcomed to their houses. He remarked, "Often have I been sitting in Lady Blessington's splendid drawing-room in the morning, and talking and laughing as familiarly as in the old house at home; and on the same evening I might have been seen on Westminster Bridge, between an apple vendor and a baked-potato merchant, vending my baskets."

In 1836, he wrote "A Day in the Woods," consisting of a series of sketches, stories, and poems. The reading public welcomed the work, and the critical press recognised it as the production of a man of undoubted genius. He continued to make friends, including "L. E. L.," the poetess, Campbell, Leigh Hunt, Jerrold, Disraeli and Thackeray. The merits and success of his book caused Colburn to make him a tempting offer to write a three-volume novel, and in 1838 appeared "Royston Gower." The work was so popular that the same publisher commissioned him to write two more novels, namely, in 1839, "Fair Rosamond," and in 1840, "Lady Jane Grey." He produced other novels, perhaps the best known is "Gideon Giles." These works are now to be obtained in cheap form, and have been most extensively circulated.

He was assisted and encouraged by Rogers, Lady Blessington and others, to commence as a publisher and bookseller, and was enabled by their kindness to purchase back from Colburn the copyrights of his novels. His place of business was 9, Newgate Street, opposite Christ's Hospital, and from here he issued several of his own books besides works by well-known authors. Miller did not succeed in business, and gave it up to devote all his time to writing books and contributing to the periodicals and newspapers. He wrote for the _Athenaeum_, _Literary Gazette_, _Chambers' Journal_, _Household Words_, _Boys' Own Magazine_, the _Illustrated London News_, and other monthlies and weeklies. Many leading articles from his facile pen appeared in the _Morning Post_. His papers on the months in Chambers' "Book of Days," which describe the varied aspects of the country during the year, have been reproduced in an elegant volume bearing the title of "All Round the Year."

Mr. J. Potter Briscoe, F.R.H.S., kindly supplies me with the following list of books by Thomas Miller:--"All Round the Year," 1860; "Birds, Bees, and Blossoms," 1867, 1869 (see also "Original Poems," etc.); "British Wolf Hunter," 1859; "Boys' Own Library," 6 vols., 1856; "Boys' Spring, Summer, Autumn, and Winter Books," 1847, 1881; "Boys' Own Country Book, Seasons, and Rural Rides," 1867, 1868; "Brampton among the Roses," 1863; "Child's Country Book," 1867; "Child's Country Story Book," 1867, 1870, 1881; "Common Wayside Flowers," 1841, 1873; "Country Year book," 2 vols., 1847, 1 vol., 1836; "Day in the Woods," 1836; "Desolate Hall," (in "Friendship's Offering") 1838; "Dorothy Dovedale's Trials," 2 vols., 1864; "English Country Life," 1858, 1859, 1864; "Fair Rosamond," 3 vols., 1839, 1 vol., 1862; "Fortune and Fortitude," 1848; "Fred and the Gorillas," 1869, 1873; "Fred Holdsworth" (In _Illustrated London News_), 1852, 1873; "Gaboon," 1868; "Gideon Giles, the Roper," 1840, 1841, 1859, 1867; "Godfrey Malvern," 1842, 1843, 1844, 1847, 1858, 1877; "Goody Platts and her two Cats," 1864; "History of the Anglo-Saxons," 1848, 1850, 1852, 1856; "Jack-of-All-Trades," 1867; "Lady Jane Grey, a romance," 3 vols., 1840, 1 vol., 1861, 1864; "Langley-on-the-Lea; or, Love and Duty," 1858; "Life and [remarkable] Adventures of a Dog," 1856, 1870; "Lights and Shades of London Life" (forming vol. 5 of Reynolds' _Mysteries of London_); "Little Blue Hood," 1863; "My Father's Garden," 1866, 1867; "No Man's Land, etc.," 1860, 1861, 1863; "Old Fountain" (in _Friendship's Offering_, etc.); "Original Poems for my Children," 1850 (see also "Birds," etc.); "Our Old Town" (Gainsborough) 1857, 1858; "Old Park Road," 1870, 1876; "Picturesque Sketches of London," 1852 (in the _Illustrated London News_); "Pictures of Country Life," 1846, 1847, 1853; "Poacher and other Pictures of Country Life," 1858; "Poems," 1841, 1848, 1856; "Poetical Language of Flowers," 1838, 1847, 1853, 1856, 1865, 1869, 1872; "Royston Gower," 3 vols., 1830, 1 vol. 1858, 1860, 1874; "Rural Sketches," 1839, 1861; "Sketches of English Country Life"; "Songs for British Riflemen," 1860; "Songs of the Sea Nymphs," 1857; "Songs of the Seasons," 1865; "Sports and Pastimes of Merry England," 1859 (?-56); "Summer Morning," 1844; "Tales of Old England," 1849, 1881; "Village Queen," 1851, 1852; "Watch the End" (second edition of "My Father's Garden") 1869, 1871, 1873; "Year Book of Country Life," 1855; "Year Book of the Country," 1837; "Young Angler," 1862.

The foregoing volumes are in the Nottingham Public Library, and the librarian, Mr. Briscoe is to be congratulated on bringing together Miller's works in the city closely associated with his career. In Paxton Hood's "Peerage of Poverty," a fine estimate of Miller's ability as an author is given, though very little about his life is recorded. On the 25th of October, 1874, he died at his residence, a small house in West Street, Kensington, leaving a son and two daughters. Shortly before his death an effort was made to get him placed on the Civil List. Mr. Disraeli was not able to include him at the time, but, with his well-known generosity, made him an allowance from some other fund. Miller only received one quarterly instalment before passing away.

The Cottage Countess.

The late Poet Laureate has given a world-wide interest to the romantic story of "The Peasant Countess" of "Burleigh House by Stamford town," in his popular poem, "The Lord of Burleigh." He relates how Henry Cecil, in the guise of a landscape painter in humble circumstances, wooes and weds a rustic maiden, and how a shadow overcasts her bright dream when the real rank of her husband is made known to her:--

"But a trouble weighed upon her,
And perplexed her night and morn,
With the burthen of an honour
Unto which she was not born.
Faint she grew, and ever fainter,
And she murmured, 'Oh, that he
Were once more that landscape-painter,
Which did win my heart from me.'
So she drooped and drooped before him,
Fading slowly from his side:
Three fair children first she bore him,
Then before her time she died."

The poet tells how keenly the Lord of Burleigh mourned her loss, and that he buried her in the dress in which she was married.

The real facts, however, are not so poetical; yet Hazlitt says that the story outdoes the "Arabian Nights." The following particulars may be regarded as a correct version of this romantic tale. Henry Cecil was born in the year 1754, and was the only child of the Hon. Thomas Chambers Cecil by his marriage with Miss Charlotte Gardner. At the age of nineteen he had lost his parents, and was the presumptive heir to his uncle's estates and the earldom of Exeter. He was by no means popular with his uncle, and seldom troubled the inmates of Burleigh House with his presence. While still a minor, he married into a good old west of England family, his wife being a lady of great personal charms, named Emma Vernon, the only daughter of the Squire of Hornbury Hall, in the county of Worcester. The union was not a happy one, young Cecil being far from an exemplary husband. He wasted much of his time and money in gambling. After fifteen years of married life he sought and obtained a divorce. His own folly and other circumstances rendered him a poor man, and induced him shortly before the time he obtained a divorce to quit the society of those in his rank of life, and settle down in one of the secluded villages in Shropshire. He selected Bolas Magna, a charming little place, nestling among apple orchards and green lanes. Here he was known as John Jones, and was lost to the fashionable world, out of sight and out of mind. For a short time he lodged at the village hostelry, freely conversing with the customers who came at night to smoke their pipes and drink their beer. The days he spent in sketching the pretty bits of scenery in the district.

The noisy life of an inn soon palled upon him, and he sought lodgings at some of the farmhouses, but his search was almost futile, as he was viewed with much suspicion; indeed, some went so far as to hint that he was a highwayman. The honest country folk failed to discover any visible means of his making money, although they saw that he spent it pretty freely. He at last procured lodgings at the dwelling of a labourer called Hoggins, and soon made himself a favourite in the humble household. Cecil appears to have been anticipating the day when he would be a free man, and, even before he had obtained a divorce, he paid some attention to an attractive young woman named Taylor. She, however, being engaged, did not favour his suit. He then made love to Sarah Hoggins, the daughter of his landlady--a young, comely, honest girl, who reciprocated his affection. Her mother was doubtful about the matter, feeling that the marriage of her girl with a stranger was a step that might lead to serious results, and she had a lingering suspicion that there might be some truth in the rumour of her lodger being a highwayman. The father was more favourably inclined; he saw that the man had plenty of money, and it was a golden opportunity not to be missed, and he encouraged the match. Eventually the mother had to give way. In June, 1791, he obtained a divorce, and, on the 3rd of October, in the same year, in the little church of Bolas, Henry Cecil and Sarah Hoggins were married. He bought a piece of land near Hodnet, and on it built a house, the largest in the neighbourhood. The local tradesmen looked upon him with mistrust, and he had to make liberal advances of money before they would undertake the work. Here he lived with his young wife, teaching her such accomplishments as she would require in her future high station. He did not, however, give any hint as to his real character. His superior manners and education, in spite of the mystery of his life, made him friends, and inspired some confidence, so that the ratepayers elected him to one of their parish offices. The duties of his parochial appointment took him to the sessions at Shrewsbury, where he encountered a brother magistrate, who had been an old schoolfellow, although not recognised by him. As a proof of his disposition to oblige his friends and make himself generally useful, it is recorded that on one occasion he gratified his father-in-law by carrying a large pig as a present to a neighbouring squire.

A little daughter was born at Bolas, who died after living a few days, and was buried in the churchyard, without a stone to mark her grave, which is now forgotten.

After he had been married about two years he read in a country newspaper an account of the death of his uncle, which occurred towards the close of the year 1793. Early in the following January, he repaired, with his wife, then nineteen years of age, to Burleigh House. He merely told her that he had to go to a distant part of the country, and wished to have her company. They travelled on horseback, the wife being seated on a pillion behind her husband, according to the fashion of the period. They stopped at the several noblemen's and gentlemen's seats on their route. At last they reached Burleigh House, where she was told that she was a countess, and the mystery of Henry Cecil solved.

When surrounded by the titled and the great, she sighed for a humbler position, but nevertheless she made an excellent wife and mother, and the happiness of her husband was complete. It was of short duration, for in the flower of her life she died, deeply lamented, on January 17th, 1797.

In addition to the first-born previously mentioned, they had a daughter and two sons. One of the sons was the peer who succeeded his father. Lord Burleigh settled seven hundred a year on his wife's parents, and gave them the house he had just vacated. The Countess was cordially received by the Earl's relatives, and mixed in the fashionable society of London, and won respect and regard from all with whom she came in contact.

Lawrence painted her portrait. She is represented as far from rustic in appearance, her face being oval and very pleasing.

It remains to be stated, to complete the outline of the life of Henry Cecil, that he was created a marquis, that he married for his third wife the Dowager-Duchess of Hamilton, and died in the year 1804.

The Compiler of "Old Moore's Almanac,"

Henry Andrews.

The name of Henry Andrews is familiar to the literary and scientific world as the compiler for many years of "Old Moore's Almanac," but the particulars of his life are not generally known. His career, although not an eventful one, was most honourable, and furnishes a notable example of a man who, from a humble beginning, by perserverance attained an important position in life.

He was born at Frieston, near Grantham, on February 4th, 1744, of parents in poor circumstances, who were only able to afford him a limited education. In his earliest years he appears to have had a love for astronomy, a science in which he afterwards became one of the most proficient of his day. It is recorded that when only six years old he would frequently stand in his shirt looking at the moon out of his chamber window at midnight; when about ten years of age, he used to fix a table on Frieston Green on clear frosty nights, and set a telescope thereon through which to view the stars. The young student would afterwards sit by the fireside with a table covered with books, making astronomical calculations.

At an early age he left home to earn his own living, the first situation he filled being that of servant to a shopkeeper at Sleaford. We next trace him to the city of Lincoln, where he was engaged to wait upon a lady. During his leisure time, he took every opportunity to make weather-glasses and weather-houses. The last situation he held as a gentleman's servant, was under J. Feriman, Esq., who found Andrews so intent on study that he kindly allowed him two or three hours daily to devote to that purpose.

We are told that on the 1st of April, 1764, he went to Aswarby Hall, the seat of Sir Christopher Whichcote, to view the eclipse of the sun which was visible on that day. A number of ladies and gentlemen had assembled for the same purpose. Having previously calculated a type of this eclipse, he presented the same to the company, showing them the manner of its appearance in a dark room upon a board, and, after it was over they unanimously declared that his calculations came nearer than any given in the almanacs. Shortly after the above meeting, he opened a school at Basingthorpe, near Grantham. We presume the venture did not prove satisfactory, for we find that he was afterwards engaged as an usher in a clergyman's boarding-school at Stilton. His next move was to Cambridge, hoping there to obtain assistance in prosecuting his studies from the men of science in the University. Accustomed to a quiet life, he could not endure the bustle of that ancient seat of learning, so left and settled at Royston, Hertfordshire, where he opened a school, and continued to reside until the day of his death. He had only reached the age of twenty-three when he took up his residence at the latter town.

A few years after Andrews settled there, we find his name on the title-page of an almanac, and an advertisement of his school. The title-page of the publication is curious, and reads as follows:--

"A Royal almanac and meteorological diary for the year of our Lord,
1778, and of the Julian period 6491. The second after Bissextile or
leap year, and the eighteenth year of the Reign of his Majesty King
George III. Containing the feasts and fasts of the Church of England;
the times of the lunations; the rising and setting of the sun; the
equation of time for the regulating of clocks and watches; the moon's
rising and setting; the times of high water at London Bridge, morning
and afternoon; the aspects of the planets and weather. Also, for every
sixth day, the increase and decrease of days; the beginning and end
of daylight; the nightly rising, southing and setting of the planets
and seven stars; adapted to the meridian and latitude of London.
Likewise an exact meteorological journal for the preceding year, or
the state of the barometer and thermometer, with the wind, weather,
&c., as they were registered every day. Also the depth of rain which
fell, and the observations made every month. To which are added the
eclipses of the sun and moon and other remarkable phenomena that will
happen this year; the Middlesex commencement of the sessions of the
peace; a table of the terms and their returns, and for finding the
times of high water at most of the seaports of this kingdom. By Henry
Andrews, Teacher of the Mathematics, at Royston, Herts. London:
Printed for T. Carnan, in St. Paul's Church-Yard, who dispossessed the
stationers of the privilege of printing almanacs, which they had
unjustly monopolised 170 years, 1778. Price 1s."

Following is a copy of his advertisement:--

"At Royston, Herts., Young Gentlemen and others may be commendably
boarded with the Author of this Almanac at reasonable rates, and be
taught by him as follows, viz., Writing, Arithmetic, Mensuration,
Geometry, Trigonometry, Navigation, Astronomy, the use of the Globes,
&c."

For forty-three years Henry Andrews compiled _Moore's Almanac_ for the Company of Stationers. The following extract from a letter written by Andrews' only son, proves that he did not receive liberal remuneration for his arduous task. Mr. W. H. Andrews stated:--"My father's calculations, etc., for _Moore's Almanac_ continued during a period of forty-three years; and although through his great talent and management he increased the sale of that work from 100,000 to 500,000 copies, yet, strange to say, all he received for his services was L25 per annum. Yet I never heard him murmur even once about it; such was his delight in pursuing his favourite studies, that his anxiety about remuneration was out of the question. Sir Richard Phillips, who at times visited him at Royston, once met him in London, and endeavoured to persuade him to go with him to Stationers' Hall, and he would get him L100; but he declined going, saying that he was satisfied."

He was compiler of the _Nautical Ephemeris_, and on retiring from the appointment he received the thanks of the Board of Longitude, accompanied by a handsome present, as a just tribute of long and able services, for which he would not receive more than a nominal payment.

In 1805, Andrews built a house in High Street, Royston, and in it he spent the remainder of his life. It is worthy of note that he paid the builders of the work as it progressed, on account of the men being in poor circumstances, a good proof of his kind consideration.

At the age of seventy-six, Andrews closed his well-spent life. We find in the _Gentleman's Magazine_, of February, 1820, a short notice of his career, concluding thus:--

"His profound knowledge of Astronomy and the Mathematics was acknowledged by all scientific men who were acquainted with his abilities, but the greatness of his mind was never more conspicuous than during the period of his last illness; and on his deathbed not a murmur escaped his lips, but serenity of mind, patience, and resignation were constantly depicted in his countenance, in which amiable situation he continued until the vital spark fled."

He was interred in the new burial ground, Royston, and over his remains was placed a tombstone, bearing the following inscription:--

"In memory of Mr. Henry Andrews, who, from a limited education, made
great progress in the liberal sciences, and was justly esteemed one of
the best Astronomers of the Age. He departed this life, in full
assurance of a better, January 26th, 1820, aged 76 years."

A portrait of Henry Andrews was published, and is now very rare. Dr. Charles Mackay, in his entertaining volume entitled "Extraordinary Popular Delusions" (issued by Routledge), gives a small portrait, and under it states, "Henry Andrews, the original 'Francis Moore.'" This is a mistake, as the Almanac was named after Francis Moore, physician, one of the many quack doctors who duped the credulous in the latter part of the 17th century. In Chambers's "Book of Days" (Vol. I., pages 9-14) will be found some very interesting information respecting Almanacs and Almanac Writers. We find it stated that "Francis Moore, in his Almanac for 1711, dates from the sign of the Old Lilly, near the old barge-house, in Christ Church Parish, Southwark, July 19th, 1710." Then follows an advertisement, in which he undertakes to cure diseases. Lysons mentions him as one of the remarkable men who, at different periods, resided at Lambeth, and says that his house was in Calcott's Alley, High Street, then called Back Lane, where he practised as astrologer, physician, and schoolmaster. _Moore's Almanac_ had appeared some years prior to 1711. We refer the reader wishing to obtain information respecting written and printed almanacs, to "The Book of Days."

James Nayler,

The Mad Quaker, who claimed to be the Messiah.

History furnishes particulars of many men who have claimed to be the Messiah, and perhaps the most celebrated of the number is James Nayler, "the mad Quaker." He was born at East Ardsley, near Wakefield, in the year 1616. It is certain that his parents were in humble circumstances, and it is generally believed that his father occupied a house near the old church, and that he was a small farmer. James Nayler, for a person in his station in life, received a fairly good education. In his early manhood he was a husbandman, and resided in his native village. When about twenty-two years of age he married, as he puts it, "according to the world," and removed to Wakefield.

Shortly after his marriage, the Civil War broke out in England, and Nayler took his share in the struggle between King and Parliament. He joined, in 1641, as a private, the Parliamentarian army, and his conduct and ability gaining him advancement, he rose to the position of quarter-master under General Lambert. While in Scotland ill-health obliged him to retire from active service, and he returned home.

Nayler carefully studied the Scriptures, and was a zealous member of the Independents, worshipping at Horbury, but he left this body in disgrace. It transpired that he had been paying attentions to a married woman named Mrs. Roper, of Horbury, whose husband had been absent from her for a long period, and that she became a mother, and that Nayler was the father of the child. The Rev. Mr. Marshall, the minister of the Independents, exposed him, and took him severely to task, so that he was finally expelled from that body.

George Fox, the founder of the Society of Friends, visited Wakefield in the year 1651, and made a convert of James Nayler. Here commences the real interest of Nayler's career--a career in which there is much to deplore, but much also certainly to cause wonder. He possessed extraordinary gifts as a preacher, and impressed the people with the truth of his teaching, more especially in the North and West of England. Troubles beset him almost on every hand,--troubles often caused through his own mistaken zeal and frail conduct; but he bore his trials with a noble Christian spirit. Nayler had no sooner joined the Quakers then he commenced what he termed his travels. At the quarter-sessions held at Appleby, in 1652, he was tried and found guilty of blasphemy, and sentenced to twenty weeks' imprisonment. On being released he continued spreading his doctrines in the North. We gather from the remarks of an officer who had served under Cromwell a testimony to the power of Nayler's preaching. "After the battle of Dunbar," says the officer, "as I was riding in Scotland at the head of my troop, I observed at some distance from the road a crowd of people, and one higher than the rest; upon which I sent one of my men to see, and bring me word what was the meaning of the gathering; and seeing him ride up and stay there, without returning according to my order, I sent a second, who stayed in like manner; and then I determined to go myself. When I came thither, I found it was James Nayler preaching to the people, but with such power and reaching energy as I had not till then been witness of. I could not help staying a little, although I was afraid to stay, for fear I was made a _Quaker_, being forced to tremble at the sight of myself. I was struck with more terror by the preaching of James Nayler than I was at the battle of Dunbar, when we had nothing else to expect but to fall a prey to the swords of our enemies, without being able to help ourselves. I clearly saw the Cross of Christ to be submitted to, so I durst stay no longer, but got off, and carried condemnation for it in my own breast. The people there cried out against themselves, imploring mercy, a thorough change, and the whole work of salvation to be effected by them."

Nayler, in 1654 after visiting in the West, wended his way to London, and preached to two congregations which had been formed by Edward Burrough and Francis Howgil, members of the Society of Friends, who suffered imprisonment with him at Appleby. He broke up both congregations, and drew after him "some inconsiderate women."

His mind gave way, and he believed that he was the Messiah. "Notwithstanding the irregularities of Nayler's life," says Scatcherd, the learned historian of Morley, "there were many things in the man, which, with low and ignorant people, exceedingly favoured his pretensions to the Messiahship. He appeared, both as to form and feature, the perfect likeness to Jesus Christ, according to the best descriptions. His face was of the oval shape, his forehead broad, his hair auburn and long, and parted on the brow, his beard flowing, his eyes beaming with a benignant lustre, his nose of the Grecian or Caucasian order, his figure erect and majestic, his aspect sedate, his speech sententious, deliberative, and grave, and his manner authoritative." Carlyle has drawn a pen picture of Nayler, but not with the skill of the foregoing.

It is not our intention to attempt to trace Nayler from place to place in his wanderings, but to touch on the more important episodes of his closing years. He visited the West in 1652 on a religious mission, and revisited it again four years later. During his visit to Cornwall, he prophesied, and subsequently one of the charges made against him was that he proclaimed himself to be a prophet. At Exeter he was charged with vagrancy, and imprisoned. During his confinement he was visited by a number of women, who had been moved by his teaching. Amongst the number was a widow named Dorcas Erbury. She fell into a swoon, and it was supposed that she was dead. Nayler went through certain ceremonies, and he pretended to have restored her to life. Referring to this when examined by the Bristol Magistrate at a later period, the woman said: "Nayler laid his hand on my head after I had been dead two days, and said, 'Dorcas, arise!' and I arose, and live, as thou seest." On being asked if she had any witness to corroborate her statement, she said that her mother was present. The local authorities at Exeter released Nayler after detaining him for a short time. At this period some strange scenes occurred. "The usual posture of Nayler," says Scatcherd, "was sitting in a chair, while his company of men and women knelt before him." These, it appears, were very numerous and constant for whole days together. At the commencement of the service, a female stepped forth and sang:--

"This is the joyful day,
Behold! the King of righteousness is come!"

Another, taking him by the hand, exclaimed:--

"Rise up, my love--my dove--and come away,
Why sittest thou among the pots."

Then, putting his hand upon her mouth, she sunk upon the ground before him, the auditory vociferating:--

"Holy, holy, holy, to the Almighty."

His procession through Chepstow caused much amazement in that quiet place. "Nayler" is described as being mounted on the back of a horse or mule;--one Woodcock preceded him bareheaded, and on foot:--a female on each side of Nayler held his bridle; many spread garments in his way,--while the women sang: "Hosannah to the Son of David--blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord--Hosannah in the highest!"

Nayler and his followers entered Bristol in a procession similar to the one just described. We are told that on this particular day in the year of grace 1656, when he visited the city of Bristol, rain was falling, and the roads were deep with mud, but neither mud nor rain could check the ardour of himself and disciples, and they sang hymns of praise. They first wended their steps to the High Cross, and then to the White Hart, Broad Street, where a couple of Quakers were staying. The local magistrates were soon on the alert, and had the party apprehended and cast into prison. After being examined by Bristol magistrates, Nayler and his followers were sent to London to be examined before Parliament. His examination and the debate on it occupied many days, and the members finally resolved "that James Nayler was guilty of horrid blasphemy, and that he was a grand impostor and seducer of the people"; and his sentence was, "that he should be set on the pillory, in the Palace Yard, Westminster, during the space of two hours, on Thursday next, and be whipped by the hangman through the streets from Westminster to the Old Exchange, London; and there, likewise, he should be set on the pillory, with his head in the pillory, for the space of two hours, between the hours of eleven and one, on Saturday next, in each place wearing a paper containing an inscription of his crimes; and that at the Old Exchange his tongue should be bored through with a hot iron, and that he should be there also stigmatised in the forehead with the letter B; and that he should be afterwards sent to Bristol, to be conveyed in and through the city on horseback, with his face backwards, and there also should be whipped the next market-day after he came thither; and that thence he should be committed to prison in Bridewell, London, and there be restrained from the society of all people, and there to labour hard till he should be released by Parliament; and during that time he should be debarred the use of pen, ink, and paper, and he should have no relief but what he earned by his daily labour." This terrible sentence was duly carried out, although Parliament and Cromwell were petitioned to mitigate the punishment. During his imprisonment he wrote his recantations in letters addressed to the Quakers. After being confined for two years he was set at liberty, and repaired to Bristol, and at a public meeting made a confession of his offence and fall. His address moved nearly all present to tears. The Quakers once more received him back to their Society.

His end came in the year 1660. In that year he left London for Wakefield, but failed to reach it. At Holm, near King's Rippon, Huntingdonshire, one night he was bound and robbed, and left in a field, where he was found by a countryman. He was removed to a house at Holm and every attention paid to him, but he soon died from the results of the rough treatment he had received at the hands of the highwaymen.

A Biographical Romance.

Swan's Strange Story.

In the olden days the misfortunes of William Swan frequently formed the topic of conversation amongst friends, who gathered round the fireside in the homes on the wild wolds of Yorkshire, where he spent some years of his disappointed life. The full details of his career have been lost in the lapse of time; never, to our knowledge, have they been committed to paper, but sufficient particulars may be brought together to prove in his case the truth of the old saying that "fact is stranger than fiction."

Nearly two centuries ago there was joy in Benwell Hall, near Newcastle-on-Tyne, the stately mansion of Richard Swan, Esq., the occasion of the rejoicing being the birth of an heir. The parents dreamed of a bright future for their boy, and proudly predicted that he would, in a worthy manner, perpetuate the name and fame of Swan. The happy expectations of boyhood were not to be realised, for the young heir had barely reached the age of nine years, when he was kidnapped from his home, in order that another might inherit the wealth that by kinship belonged to him. He was quietly shipped on board the "New Britannia" brig, which formed part of the squadron under command of the famous Sir Cloudesley Shovel. His position was that of a "powder monkey," and his chief employment was to bring powder from the magazine to the gunners during the naval engagements. On the 22nd of October, 1707, the fleet was wrecked on the Scilly Isles, owing to the Admiral mistaking the rocks for the sea-coast. No less than eight hundred brave men found a watery grave, and several vessels were lost. Happily the ship in which Swan sailed escaped destruction. Ill-fate, however, followed in its wake, for, shortly afterwards, it was captured by an Algerine corsair, and Swan was sold to the Moors as a slave. Four weary years were passed in Barbary. He gained his liberty through the assistance of the Redeeming Friars, a noble body of men who were the means of freeing thousands of Christians from captivity. Many benevolent persons left large sums of money for redeeming their fellow countrymen from bondage, and this money was expended judiciously through the agency of the Friars.

Swan had not the good fortune to reach his home in safety. He was again taken prisoner, and sold once more into slavery, this time to an English planter in South Carolina. Here his sufferings were terrible. He toiled with negroes from sunrise to sunset, the slave-drivers keeping them busy at work in the cotton and sugar plantations by means of the lash. Managing to escape, he landed, after an exile of twenty years, on his native shore in 1726, and speedily made his way to Newcastle-on-Tyne. His father's footman, Thomas Chance, and his old nurse, Mrs. Gofton, identified him, and he at once instituted a claim for the estate of his uncle, Alderman Swan, Mayor of Hull, who had died and left property yielding an income of L20,000 a year. His efforts proved unsuccessful, and the deep disappointment broke his heart, his death occurring in 1736, at the age of thirty-eight years.

Swan had married a Yorkshire woman called Jane Cole, of North Dalton, near Driffield, by whom he had a son named William. The widowed mother told her boy, as soon as he was able to understand, that he was the rightful heir to vast estates, and encouraged him to persevere to obtain them. The melancholy fate of her husband was not sufficient to crush her ardent spirit. A lawyer at Driffield was consulted, and he advised that action be taken. He undertook to conduct the case without payment until the estates were obtained, beyond the sums for correspondence, court fees, etc. The man, however, drained the poor fellow of every penny that he could procure, and both mother and son denied themselves the necessaries of life to keep up the constant demands of the solicitor. Months and years passed without getting any satisfaction. Poor Mrs. Swan at last felt the case to be hopeless, and the anxious waiting, with its disappointing results, preyed so on her mind that she fell into ill-health and died. Speaking to her son before her death, she said: "Oh, William, let this horrid plea drop. Don't pay that man any more money. I feel that he would skin us both alive. They are a bad set all these law men." William was young, and like the majority of young people, hope was firmly fixed in his nature. He not only devoted all his money to law, but bought a second-hand copy of "Blackstone's Commentaries," and spent all his leisure time in studying it, until he was complete master of the work. After the death of his mother, he gave up house-keeping, and took lodgings with a widow, having a daughter about twenty-four years of age. They became interested in his case, and lent him money to carry on his suit. A rich uncle had left the girl a few hundred pounds. The young couple were brought into sympathy with each other, which ripened into mutual affection, and in a short time, with the consent freely given of the mother, they were married. Shortly after the wedding it transpired that the attorney at Driffield had been cheating his client, and instead of using the hard-earned money of William Swan to gain his estates, he had spent it in dissipation, and was a ruined man.

Swan proceeded to London, and consulted another lawyer. This man advised an action which swallowed up the wife's small fortune, without getting them one step nearer obtaining the estate. Trouble after trouble came upon William. His heart was almost crushed, but he continued the action to the best of his ability. His wife begged of him to leave law alone, to return to their Yorkshire home, live by their industry, and give up all thoughts of the property. He refused to act upon her good advice. He got into debt, and was committed to the Fleet prison on his inability to pay. Here ill luck still followed him, for he caught the jail fever. In his sickness his devoted wife got permission to visit him, and bring him some delicacies. She, alas, caught the fever, and in a few days died. He recovered, but the death of his loving helpmate was almost too much for him. She had endured much for his sake, but never by word or deed showed regret at becoming his wife. Shortly afterwards a jail delivery enabled him to leave prison. His illness rendered him so weak that he could hardly walk. He obtained lodgings in an obscure lane or alley near Chiswell Street, and afterwards was found dead in bed. It is believed that his remains were buried in a pauper's grave.

Short Letters.

The shortest letters on record are two exchanged between a couple of members of the Society of Friends. One of them, wishing to learn if a correspondent in a distant town had any news to communicate, posted to him a quarto sheet of paper, on which nothing but a note of interrogation was written, thus: ? (meaning, "what news?") He received in reply, by next post, a blank sheet of paper, indicating that there was nothing to relate.

Some of the best of brief letters have been penned by members of the dramatic profession. The following are good specimens. A tradesman made application to Mordaunt, the player, for payment of an account, as follows:--

"Sir,--Your bill having been standing a very long time, I beg to have
it settled forthwith.

Yours, etc.,
J. Thwaites."

Said the comedian in reply:--

"Sir,--When your bill is tired of _standing_, it is welcome to sit
down.

Yours, etc.,
T. H. M."

The next letters passed between Samuel Foote, the famous actor, and his unfortunate mother:--

"Dear Sam,--I am in prison for debt; come and assist your loving
mother,

E. Foote."

His answer was almost as brief, certainly as pathetic:--

"Dear Mother,--So am I, which prevents his duty being paid to his
loving mother by her affectionate son.

Sam Foote."

"P.S.--I have sent my attorney to assist you; in the meantime let us
hope for better days."

Quin had a misunderstanding with Rich, the manager of Covent Garden Theatre, which resulted in the former leaving in an unceremonious manner. He soon regretted the step that he had taken, and wrote to his old friend and manager:--

"I am at Bath.

Quin."

Rich did not deem such a letter a sufficient apology for his unwarrantable conduct, and thus replied to it:--

"Stay there and be hanged.

Rich."

The Rev. Sydney Smith, in answer to a friend who had forwarded a letter asking him to sit for his portrait, to be executed by Landseer, the gifted painter, whose pictures of dogs made him famous, sent the following reply:--

"Is thy servant a dog that he should do this thing?"

Genial Charles Lamb wrote an amusing letter to Haydon, the artist, in answer to an invitation to pay him a visit. The odd address of Haydon was the cause of the note, which ran as follows:--

"My dear Haydon,--I will come, with pleasure, to 22, Lisson Grove,
North, at Rossi's, half-way up, right hand side, if I can find it.

Yours,
C. Lamb."

"20, Russell Court,
Covent Garden, East,
Half-way up, next the corner,
Left-hand side."

A lady named Morris, of Plymouth, is recorded to have been the first of her sex to venture under water in a diving bell.

She had wit as well as courage, and wrote to her father a rhyming epistle, saying:--

"From a belle, my dear father, you've oft had a line,
But not from a bell under water;
Just now I can only assure you I'm thine,
Your diving and dutiful daughter."

Frank Smedley, the author of "Frank Fairleigh," addressed to a lady friend the following letter in verse:--

"To Mrs. G. H. Virtue."

"Thou better half of Virtue, gentle friend,
Fairly to thee, I, Fairleigh, greeting send;
Frankly I give what frankly you desire;
You thus Frank Fairleigh's autograph acquire.
To make assurance doubly sure, this medley
Of Franks and Fairleighs this I sign--
Frank Smedley."

A famous sporting character, named Captain O'Byrne, laid a wager about Admiral Payne, and wrote to him as follows:--

"Dear Payne,--Pray, were you bread to the sea?"

The witty Admiral made reply:--

"Dear O'Byrne,--No; but the sea was bread to me."

It is said that King Charles the Second received the following letter:--

"King Charles,--One of your subjects the other night robbed me of L40,
for which I robbed another of the same sum, who has inhumanly sent me
to Newgate, and he vows I shall be hanged; therefore, for your own
sake, save my life, or you will lose one of the best seamen in your
navy.

Jack Skifton."

His Majesty promptly answered the letter:--

"Jack Skifton,--For this time I'll save thee from the gallows, but if
hereafter thou art guilty of the like, I'll have thee hanged, though
the best seaman in my navy.

Charles Rex."

Here is a copy of a quaint letter sent to another king. It was written by Dr. Schmidt, sacristan of the Cathedral at Berlin, to Frederick of Prussia:

"Sire,--I acquaint your Majesty, 1st, that they are wanting books of
psalms for the Royal Family. I acquaint your Majesty, 2ndly, that
there wants wood to warm the Royal seats. And I acquaint your Majesty,
3rdly, that the balustrade next the river, behind the church, is
become ruinous.

Schmidt,
Sacristan of the Cathedral."

In reply to the foregoing diverting communication the king wrote:--

"I acquaint Mr. Sacrist Schmidt, 1st, that they who want to sing songs
may buy books. I acquaint Mr. Sacrist Schmidt, 2ndly, that those who
want to be kept warm may buy wood. I acquaint Mr. Sacrist Schmidt,
3rdly, that I shall not trust any longer to the balustrade next to the
river; and I acquaint Mr. Sacrist Schmidt, 4thly, that I will not have
any more correspondence with him.

Frederick."

The following phonographic curiosity is extracted from the _Times_. It was written by an unsophisticated person to his physician, in Lancashire:--

"Cer yole oblige me uf yole kum and ce me i hev a bad kowld an am hill
in mi bow hills an hev lorst mi happetite.

Roger Trooman."