Chapter X: Part 10

William Joy was a native of Kent, and born May 2, 1675, at St. Lawrence, a small village one mile from Ramsgate, in the Isle of Thanet. When very young, he distinguished himself among his juvenile companions and playmates, by his amazing superiority in strength, over any antagonist that dare to come in competition with his power, whether in play or earnest When about twenty-four years of age, he first began to exhibit in public his astonishing feats, in a display of personal prowess inferior to none but the Hebrew champion recorded in holy writ. Among many other of this man's extraordinary performances may be recorded:--1. A strong horse, urged by the whip to escape his powerful rein, is restrained and kept from escape solely by the check of his pull, aided by a strong rope, and this without any stay or support whatever. 2. Seated upon a stool, with his legs horizontally elevated, solely by muscular power, he jumps clearly from his seat. 3. To prove the agility and flexibility of his joints, he places a glass of wine on the sole of his foot, and, in an erect posture, without the least bending of his head or body, raises the glass to his mouth, and drinks the contents, turning his foot with both hands, to accommodate his draught. 4. Aided by a strong leather girdle, or belt, and supporting himself by pressing his arms on a railing, he lifts from the ground a stone of the enormous weight of 2,240 lbs. 5. A rope fastened to a wall, which had borne 3,500 lbs. weight, without giving way, is broke asunder by his amazing strength. The celebrity of this man attracted the curiosity of King William III., before whom he exhibited at Kensington Palace; likewise before George, Prince of Denmark, and his royal consort, the Princess, afterwards Queen Anne, and their son William, Duke of Gloucester, called the Hope of England. He also went through a regular course of performances at the Duke's Theatre, in Dorset-gardens, Salisbury-square, which was attended by the first nobility and gentry in the kingdom.

PRICE OF SHELL-FISH IN 1675.

A bill for shell-fish enables us to ascertain the prices paid in Charles II.'s reign for these delicacies. Mr. Walter Tucker, mayor of Lyme, Dorset, paid for the judges, for--

30 lobsters L1 10 0
6 crabs 0 6 0
100 scallops 0 5 0
300 oysters 0 4 0
50 oranges 0 2 0
-------
L2 7 0

DISTRIBUTING HAND-BILLS.

The month of July 1736 afforded a singular _popular explosion_, contrived in the following strange manner:--A brown paper parcel, which had been placed unobserved near the side-bar of the Court of King's-bench, Westminster-hall, blew up during the solemn proceedings of the Courts of Justice assembled, and scattered a number of printed bills, giving notice, that on the last day of Term five Acts of Parliament would be publicly burnt in the hall, between the hours of twelve and one, at the Royal Exchange, and at St. Margaret's hill, which were the Gin Act, the Smuggling Act, the Mortmain Act, the Westminster Bridge Act, and the Act for borrowing 600,000_l._ on the Sinking fund.

One of the bills was immediately carried to the Grand Jury then sitting, who found it an infamous libel, and recommended the offering of a reward to discover the author.

RANZ DES VACHES.

The "Ranz des Vaches," which is commonly supposed to be a single air, stands in Switzerland for a class of melodies, the literal meaning of which is cow-rows. The German word is _Kureihen_--rows of cows. It derives its origin from the manner the cows march home along the Alpine paths at milking time. The shepherd goes before, keeping every straggler in its place by the tones of his horn, while the whole herd wind along in Indian file, obedient to the call. From its association it always creates home-sickness in a Swiss mountaineer, when he hears it in a foreign land. It is said, these melodies are prohibited in the Swiss regiments attached to the French army, because it produces so many desertions. One of the "Ranz des Vaches" brings back to his imagination his Alpine cottage--the green pasturage--the bleating of his mountain goats--the voices of the milkmaids, and all the sweetness and innocence of a pastoral life; till his heart turns with a sad yearning to the haunts of his childhood, and the spot of his early dreams and early happiness.

The Swiss retain their old fondness for rifle-shooting, and there is annually a grand rifle match at some of the large towns, made up of the best marksmen in all Switzerland. There are also yearly contests in wrestling, called _Zwing Feste_, the most distinguished wrestlers at which are from Unterwalden, Appenzel, and Berne.

MONSOONS.

These are periodical winds which blow over the Indian Ocean, between Africa and Hindustan for nearly six months from the north-east, and during an equal period from the south-west. The region of the monsoons lies a little to the north of the northern border of the trade-winds, and they blow with the greatest force and with most regularity between the eastern coast of Africa and Hindustan. When the sun is in the southern hemisphere a north-east wind, and when it is in the northern hemisphere, a south-west wind blows over this sea. The north-east monsoon blows from November to March. It extends one or two degrees south of the equator. It becomes regular near the coasts of Africa sooner than in the middle of the sea, and near the equator sooner than in the vicinity of the coasts of Arabia. This wind brings rain on the eastern coasts of Africa. The south-west monsoon does not extend south of the equator, but usually begins a short distance north of it. It blows from the latter end of April to the middle of October. Along the coast of Africa, it appears at the end of March; but along the coast of Malabar, not before the middle of April; it ceases, however, sooner in the former than in the latter region. The rainy season on the west coast of Hindustan commences with the first approach of the south-west monsoon. The monsoons prevail also on the seas between Australia and China.

Mpnsoons.]

The effect of the struggle which precedes the change in the direction of the wind in this part of the world is thus described in "Forbes's Oriental Memoirs." The author was encamped with the English troops:

"The shades of evening approached as we reached the ground, and just as the encampment was completed, the atmosphere grew suddenly dark, the heat became oppressive, and an unusual stillness presaged the immediate setting-in of the monsoon. The whole appearance of external nature resembled those solemn preludes to earthquakes and hurricanes in the West Indies, from which the East in general is providentially free. We were allowed very little time for conjecture. In a few minutes the heavy clouds burst over us. I had witnessed seventeen monsoons in India, but this surpassed them all in its awful appearance and dreadful effects. Encamped in a low situation on the borders of a lake formed to collect the surrounding water, we found ourselves in a few hours in a liquid plain; tent-pins giving way in a loose soil--the tents fell down--and left the whole army exposed to the contending elements. It requires a lively imagination to conceive the situation of a hundred thousand human beings of every description, with more than two hundred thousand elephants, camels, horses, and oxen, suddenly overwhelmed by this dreadful storm in a strange country, without any knowledge of high or low ground, the whole being covered by an immense lake, and surrounded by thick darkness, which rendered it impossible for us to distinguish a single object except such as the vivid glare of the lightning occasionally displayed in horrible forms. No language can adequately describe the wreck of a large encampment thus instantaneously destroyed, and covered with water, amid the cries of old men and helpless women, terrified by the piercing shrieks of their expiring children, unable to afford them relief. During this dreadful night more than two hundred persons and three thousand cattle perished miserably, and the morning dawn exhibited a shocking spectacle!"

UNUSUAL LOCALITY FOR SAYING PRAYERS.

Francis Atkins was porter at the palace gate, at Salisbury, from the time of Bishop Burnet to the period of his death in 1761, at the age of 104 years. It was his office every night to wind up the clock, which he was capable of performing regularly till within a year of his decease, though on the summit of the palace. In ascending the lofty flight of stairs, he usually made a halt at a particular place and said his evening prayers. He lived a regular and temperate life, and took a great deal of exercise; he walked well, and carried his frame upright and well balanced to the last.

BILLY IN THE SALT BOX.

Political caricatures are generally well worth preserving, they familiarize us with the features and peculiarities of celebrated men, and they tell us what was the popular feeling of the day. We regret that in general they are too large for our pages, but now and then we meet with a small one which we are glad to present to our readers.

Billy in the Salt Box.]

Mr. Pitt's budget of 1805 was not allowed to pass without severe remarks, and a heavily increased duty on salt excited general dissatisfaction. People said that the grand contriver of taxes had visited every corner of the house above stairs, and that he had now descended into the kitchen; and the annexed caricature, by Gilray, which was published at this period, represents the premier alarming the poor cook by popping his head out of the salt-box, with the unexpected salutation--"How do you do, cookey?" The person thus apostrophised cries out in consternation, "Curse the fellow, how he has frightened me!--I think, on my heart, he is getting in everywhere!--who the deuce would have thought of finding him in the salt-box?"

DANGEROUS FEAT.

An extraordinary instance of the rash feats which men with cool heads and courageous hearts will sometimes perform, was witnessed at Nottingham on January 22, 1789.--The vane at the top of St. Peter's spire, which was placed there in 1735, and measured thirty-three inches in length, having become insecure, the parish officers agreed with Mr. Robert Wooton, of Kegworth, to take it down and reinstate it.

This venturous man, henceforth known as "_the steeple climber_," commenced his undertaking by placing a ladder against the steeple, and securing it to the wall with tenters: he then mounted that with another on his shoulder, which he fastened above it in like manner; and so on till he reached the top. To prevent himself falling, he was girded round with belts, which he connected with the ladders by means of hooks. In this manner he replaced the vane and cock, and rebuilt four yards of the steeple.

The celerity with which the man placed the ladders was remarkable. He began to affix the first at eleven in the morning, and brought the vane down in triumph by two in the afternoon. The bells were then set a-ringing, the congregation of people became very great, and Wooton re-ascended the spire, to exhibit his daring. He extended himself on its summit, only thirteen inches in diameter, and spread out his arms and legs. He afterwards balanced himself on the uppermost stave of the top ladder, and for a quarter of an hour capered about in every imaginable posture, the admiring crowd beneath expecting momentarily to witness his descent in a manner much less agreeable than precipitate.

Subsequently, when his undertaking was accomplished, to excite admiration and obtain money, he again balanced himself on the apex of the spire, beat a drum, and drank a bottle of ale, in the sight of thousands of people, on a market-day; but the reprobation of the man's temerity so far preponderated over public approval, as in a considerable degree to diminish his expected reward.

POST-HASTE ONE HUNDRED YEARS AGO.

Glasgow is now within one minute of London; in the last century it was scarcely within a fortnight of it. It is a positive fact that when the post arrived there a hundred years ago, the firing of a gun announced its coming in. The members of the clubs who heard it tumbled out of bed, and rushed down to the club-room, where a tankard of hot herb ale, or a beverage which was a mixture of rum and sugar, was ready for them before breakfast. How forcibly do these things bring before us the size of Glasgow at that time, and the habits of its citizens.

EXECUTION OF ADMIRAL BYNG.

The horrid details of the execution of criminals are wholly unfitted for our pages, but Admiral Byng was not a criminal; his life was sacrificed to party spirit and party interests, and an account of his murder--for such it really was--is therefore highly interesting, as it enables us to see the dauntless manner in which a brave man can meet a dreadful fate, which he knew to be wholly undeserved. The execution took place on board the "St. George," man-of-war in Portsmouth harbour, on the 14th of March, 1757. The Admiral, accompanied by a clergyman who attended him during his confinement, and two gentlemen, his relations, walked out of the great cabin to the quarterdeck, where he suffered, on the larboard side, a few minutes before twelve o'clock. He was dressed in a light grey coat, white waistcoat, and white stockings, and a large white wig, and had in each hand a white handkerchief. He threw his hat on the deck, kneeled on a cushion, tied one handkerchief over his eyes, and dropped the other as a signal, on which a volley from six marines was fired, five of whose bullets went through him, and he was in an instant no more. The sixth went over his head. From his coming out of his cabin could not be two minutes till he fell motionless on his left side. He died with great resolution and composure, not showing the least sign of timidity. The _Ramillies_, the ship the admiral had in the Mediterranean, was riding at her moorings in the harbour, and about half an hour before he suffered, she broke her mooring chain, and only held by her bridle, which is looked on as a wonderful incident by people who do not consider the high wind at that time.

EXTRAORDINARY TREE.

Banyan Tree.]

The Samoan group of islands in the South Sea lies between the latitudes of 13 deg. 30' and 14 deg. 30' S, and the longitudes of 168 deg. and 173 deg. W. In some of these islands there is a most remarkable tree which well deserves a place in our roll of extraordinary productions. It is a species of banyan (_Ficus religiosa_), and is called by the natives Ohwa. Our sketch gives a good idea of some of these trees. The pendant branches of many of them take root in the ground to the number of thousands, forming stems from an inch to two feet in diameter, uniting in the main trunk more than eighty feet above the ground, and supporting a vast system of horizontal branches, spreading like an umbrella over the tops of the other trees.

THE PLAGUE IN ENGLAND.

The Register of Ramsay, in Huntingdonshire, mentions 400 people who died there of the plague, in or about February 1665, and that it was introduced into the place by a gentleman, who first caught the infection by wearing a coat, the cloth of which came from London: the tailor who made the coat, with all his family, died, as did no less than the number above mentioned.

But the ravages made by the plague in _London_, about 1665, are well known: it was brought over from Holland, in some Levant goods, about the close of the year 1664: its progress was arrested, in a great degree, by a hard frost which set in in the winter; but as the spring of 1665 advanced, its virulence advanced. Infected houses were shut up and red crosses painted on the doors, with this inscription, "Lord have mercy upon us." Persons going to market took the meat off the hooks themselves, for their _own_ security, and for the _Butcher's_, dropped their money into pans of vinegar; for it was supposed that even their provisions were tainted with the infection. In the months of August and September the greatest mortality occurred; for the deaths of one week have been estimated at 10,000! It may be supposed, that no great accuracy existed in the Registers, to afford a correct estimate; for, in the parish of Stepney, it is said they lost, within the year, 116 sextons, grave-diggers and their assistants; and, as the disorder advanced, the churchyards were incapable of holding more bodies, and large pits were therefore dug in several parts, to which the dead were brought by cartloads, collected by the ringing of a bell and the mournful cry of "Bring out your dead." Add to this, that these carts worked in the night, and no exact account was kept, as the clerks and sextons were averse to a duty exposing them to such dangerous consequences, and often carried off before such accounts as they had taken were delivered in. All the shops were shut up, grass grew in the most public streets, until about December 1665, when the plague abated, and the citizens who had left their abodes for the country, crowded back again to their residences. The computation is, that this horrible disease carried off 100,000 persons in London: it is singular, that the only parish quite exempt from infection was St. John the Evangelist, in Watling Street.

LANDSLIP AT COLEBROOK, SHROPSHIRE.

A most remarkable circumstance happened there in the morning of the 27th of May, 1773, about four o'clock. Near 4,000 yards from the river Severn stood a house, where a family dwelt; the man got up about three o'clock, heard a rumbling noise, and felt the ground shake under him, on which he called up his family. They perceived the ground begin to move, but knew not which way to run; however, they providentially and wonderfully escaped, by taking an immediate flight, for just as they got to an adjacent wood, the ground they had left separated from that on which they stood. They first observed a small crack in the ground about four or five inches wide, and a field that was sown with oats to heave up and roll about like waves of water; the trees moved as if blown with wind, but the air was calm and serene; the Severn (in which at that time was a considerable flood) was agitated very much, and the current seemed to run upwards. They perceived a great crack run very quick up the ground from the river. Immediately about thirty acres of land, with the hedges and trees standing (except a few that were overturned), moved with great force and swiftness towards the Severn, attended with great and uncommon noise, compared to a large flock of sheep running swiftly. That part of the land next the river was a small wood, less than two acres, in which grew twenty large oaks; a few of them were thrown down, and as many more were undermined and overturned; some left leaning, the rest upright, as if never disturbed. The wood was pushed with such velocity into the channel of the Severn (which at that time was remarkably deep), that it forced the waters up in columns a considerable height, like mighty fountains, and drove the bed of the river before it on the opposite shore, many feet above the surface of the water, where it lodged, as did one side of the wood; the current being instantly stopped, occasioned a great inundation above, and so sudden a fall below, that many fish were left on dry land, and several barges were heeled over, and when the stream came down were sunk, but none were damaged above. The river soon took its course over a large meadow that was opposite the small wood, and in three days wore a navigable channel through the meadow. A turnpike road was moved more than thirty yards from its former situation, and to all appearance rendered for ever impassable. A barn was carried about the same distance, and left as a heap of rubbish in a large chasm; the house received but little damage. A hedge that was joined to the garden was removed about fifty yards. A great part of the land was in confused heaps, full of cracks, from four inches to more than a yard wide. Several very long and deep chasms were formed in the upper part of the land, from about fourteen to upwards of thirty yards wide, in which were many pyramids of earth standing, with the green turf remaining on the tops of some of them. Hollows were raised into mounts, and mounts reduced into hollows. Less than a quarter of an hour completed this dreadful scene.

CURIOUS CUSTOM AT STRASBOURG.

At Strasbourg they show a large French horn, whose history is as follows:--About 400 years ago, the Jews formed a conspiracy to betray the city, and with this identical horn they intended to give the enemy notice when to attack.

The plot, however, was discovered; many of the Jews were burnt alive, the rest were plundered of their money and effects, and banished the town; and this horn is sounded twice every night from the battlements of the steeple in gratitude for the deliverance.

The Jews deny the fact of this story, except the murdering and pillaging their countrymen. They say the whole story is fabricated to furnish a pretext for these robberies and murders, and assert that the steeple of Strasbourg, as has been said of the Monument of London,--

"Like a tall bully lifts the head and lies."

DOWN AMONG THE DEAD MEN.

The following is an extraordinary instance of the recklessness of sailors when in the pursuit of what they call pleasure. In the year 1779, a Mr. Constable, of Woolwich, passing through the churchyard there at midnight, heard people singing jovially. At first he thought they were in the church, but the doors were locked, and it was all silent there:--on looking about he found some drunken sailors who had got into a large family vault, and were regaling with bread, cheese, tobacco, and strong beer. They belonged to the Robust, man of war, and having resolved to spend a jolly night on shore, had kept it up in a neighbouring alehouse till the landlord turned them out, and then they came here to finish their evening. They had opened some of the coffins in their dare-devil drunkenness and crammed the mouth of one of the bodies with bread, and cheese, and beer. Constable, with much difficulty, prevailed on them to return to the ship. In their way one fell down in the mud, and was suffocated, as much from drunkenness as the real danger. The comrades took him on their shoulders, and carried him back to sleep in company with the honest gentlemen with whom he had passed the evening.

CHAIR BROUGHT OVER TO AMERICA IN THE MAYFLOWER BY THE PILGRIM FATHERS.

John Carver's Chair.]

How frequently do we obtain, from the ordinary articles of domestic life which they were accustomed to use, a correct idea of the habits and tastes of whole communities which have long since passed away. A striking instance of this is the chair, of which the above is a correct sketch. It belonged to John Carver, who was one of the band of single-hearted men who constituted the Pilgrim Fathers, and who after first setting out from Holland, eventually sailed from Plymouth in England, in August, 1620. They landed in Cape Cod Harbour, New England, on the 9th of November following. Carver, was one of the chief spirits of the band, and the chair which we have sketched was one of his best articles of furniture, which he took with him in the Mayflower. He was elected the first governor of the community, and died in the year following his election. How forcibly does it show the simplicity of taste, and the freedom from pomp and vanity which characterised the devoted and fearless men who left their native shores, and sought "freedom to worship God" in a land to them unknown, that they should have selected as their first governor, an individual, the best chair in whose house was the homely article which we have here depicted.

A HARMLESS ECCENTRIC.

Jenny Darney, a Harmless Eccentric.]

The annexed cut represents a singular character who was well known about the year 1790 in the southern part of the county of Cumberland. Her appearance is thus described by a correspondent of the Gentleman's Magazine of that date:--"Though I have seen her at various times, and frequently conversed with her, for these 20 years, I have never been able to learn any particulars respecting her family, friends, or name. The country people know her by the appellation of Jenny Darney, from the manner, I presume, in which she used to mend her clothes. Her present garb is entirely of her own manufacture. She collects the small parcels of wool which lie about the fields in sheep farms, spins it on a rock and spindle of her own making; and as she cannot find any other method of making the yarn into cloth, she knits it on wooden needles, and by that means procures a warm comfortable dress. In the lifetime of the late Charles Lutwidge, Esq., of Holm Rook, she took possession of an old cottage, or rather cow-house, on his estate, in which she has ever since been suffered to continue. Her intellects seem at certain times greatly deranged, but her actions are harmless, and her language inoffensive. On that score she is caressed by all the villagers, who supply her with eatables, &c., for money she utterly refuses. She seems a person in her lucid intervals, of much shrewdness, and her understanding is above the common level. This has also been improved by a tolerable education. Her appearance has been much the same for these 20 years, so that she must now be nearly 90 years of age; but of this, as well as her family and name, she is always silent. She seems to have chosen out the spot where she now lives, to pass the remainder of her days unknown to her friends, and in a great measure from a distaste of a wicked world, to 'prepare herself,' as she often in her quiet hours says, 'for a better.'"

THE RULING PASSION.

A remarkable instance of the irresistible strength of the ruling passion was to be seen a few years ago in a Londoner, who had kept are retail spirit-shop, and retired into the adjoining county when he had made a fortune, to enjoy himself. This man used to amuse himself by having one puncheon filled with water, and measuring it off by pints into another. There was also another retired cit who used every day to angle in his round wash-hand-basin sized fish-pond for gold-fish. One fish he knew, because it had once lost its eye in being caught--and he used to say "Confound that fellow, this is the fifth, sixth, &c., time that I have caught him this season." It used to provoke him.

INTERESTING REPORT WRITTEN BY SIR CHRISTOPHER WREN.

In the history of public buildings and monuments, it is always curious to note the original plans of those who designed them, and to mark the different proposals and suggestions which were taken into consideration. On this account our readers will no doubt be gratified by perusing the following Report of Sir Christopher Wren, on the ornament which it would, in his opinion, be most desirable to place on summit of the Monument, on Fish Street-hill. The Report was drawn up for the use of the Committee of City Lands:--

"In pursuance of an Order of the Comittee for City Landes, I doe heerwith offer the several designes which some monthes since I showed His M{tie}. for his approbation; who was then pleased to thinke a large Ball of metall, gilt, would be most agreeable, in regard it would give an Ornament to the Town at a very great distance; not that His M{tie}. disliked a statue; and if any proposall of this sort be more acceptable to the City, I shall most readily represent the same to His M{tie}.

"I cannot but comend a large Statue, as carrying much dignitie with it, and that w{ch} would be more valewable in the eyes of Forreiners and strangers. It hath been proposed to cast such a one in Brasse, of 12 foot high for L1,000. I hope (if it be allowed) wee may find those who will cast a figure for that mony of 15 foot high, w{ch} will suit the greatnesse of the pillar, & is (as I take it) the largest at this day extant, and this would undoubtedly be the noblest finishing that can be found answerable to soe goodly a worke in all men's judgements.

"A Ball of Copper, 9 foot diameter, cast in severall peeces with the Flames and gilt, may well be don with the iron worke and fixing for 350lb., and this will be most acceptable of any thing inferior to a statue, by reason of the good appearance at distance, and because one may goe up into it, & upon occasion use it for fireworkes.

"A Phoenix was at first thought of, & is the ornament in the wooden modell of the pilar w{ch} I caused to be made before it was begun; but upon second thoughtes I rejected it, because it will be costly, not easily understood at that highth, and worse understood at a distance, and lastly dangerous, by reason of the sayle, the spread winges will carry in the winds.

"The Belcony must be made of substantial well forged worke, there being noe need at that distance of filed worke, and I suppose (for I cannot exactly guesse the weight) it may be well performed and fixed according to a good designe for fourscore & ten poundes, including painting, All w{ch} is humbly submitted to your consideration.

"July 28, 1675.

"CHR. WREN."

CHANGE OF SEX.

Connected with the plumage of birds is an extraordinary problem which has baffled all research, and towards the solution of which not the slightest approach has been made. Among certain of the gallinaceous birds, and it has been observed in no other family, the females occasionally assume the male plumage. Among pheasants in a wild state, the hen thus metamorphosed, assumes with the livery a disposition to war with her own race, but in confinement she is spurned and buffeted by the rest. From what took place in a hen pheasant in the possession of a lady, a friend of the late Sir Joseph Banks, it would seem probable that this change arises from some alteration in the temperament at a late period of the animal's life. This lady had paid particular attention to the breeding of pheasants. One of the hens, after having produced several broods, moulted, and the succeeding feathers were exactly those of a cock. This animal never afterwards laid an egg. The pea-hen, has sometimes been known to take the plumage of the cock bird. Lady Tynte had a favourite pea-hen, which at eight several times produced chicks. Having moulted when about eleven years old, the lady and her family were astonished by her displaying the feathers peculiar to the other sex, and appearing like a pied peacock. In this process the tail, which was like that of the cock, first appeared. In the following year she moulted again, and produced similar feathers. In third year she did the same, and then had also spurs resembling those of the cock. The bird never bred after this change of her plumage.

TILBURY FORT.

The chief fame of Tilbury rests on the formation of the camp here, in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, to defend London against the Spanish invasion. Although it is unnecessary to recount the well-known circumstances which led to the formation of the Tilbury camp, it may not be out of place to give the famous speech of Queen Elizabeth on the occasion of her visit:--

"My loving People,--We have been persuaded by some that are careful of our safety, to take heed how we trust ourselves to armed multitudes for fear of treachery; but assure you I do not desire to live to distrust my faithful and loving people. Let tyrants fear. I have always so behaved myself that under God I have placed my chiefest strength and safeguard in the loyal hearts and goodwill of my subjects; and therefore I am come among you at this time, not as for my recreation or sport, but being resolved, in the midst and heat of the battle, to live or die amongst you all--to lay down for my God, and for my kingdom, and for my people, my honour and my blood even in the dust. I know that I have but the body of a weak and feeble woman, but I have the heart of a king, and a king of England too; and I think foul scorn that Parma or Spain, or any prince of Europe, should dare to invade the borders of my realms to which, rather than any dishonour shall grow by me, I will myself take up arms--I myself will be your general, judge, and rewarder of every one of your victories in the field."

The most full description of Elizabeth's reception at Tilbury is printed in a sort of doggrel poem, headed, "Elizabetha Triumphans, briefly, truly, and effectually set forth, declared, and handled by James Aske."

The poem mentions, that when about 20,000 well-appointed men had arrived at Tilbury, orders were sent to the various shires to cause the troops in each to remain until further notice; and so great was the desire to meet the enemy, that one thousand men of Dorsetshire offered L500 to be allowed to march to the camp at Tilbury.

The alarm of the Spanish invasion was, however, not the last to threaten the Londoners, and direct attention to Tilbury.

On the 8th of June, 1667, Ruyter, the Dutch admiral, sailed out of the Texel with fifty ships, and came to the mouth of the Thames, from whence he detached Vice-Admiral Van Ghent, with seventeen of his lightest ships and some fire-ships. Van Ghent in the same month sailed up the Medway, made himself master of the fort of Sheerness, and, after burning a magazine of stores to the value of L40,000, blew up the fortifications. This action alarmed the City of London; so that to prevent similar mischief, several ships were sunk, and a large chain put across the narrowest part of the Medway. But by means of an easterly wind and a strong tide, the Dutch ships broke through the chain, and sailed between the sunk vessels. They burnt three ships, and carried away with them the hull of the "Royal Charles," besides burning and damaging several others. After this they advanced as far as Upnor Castle, and burnt the "Royal Oak," the "Loyal London," and the "Great James." Fearing that the whole Dutch fleet would sail to London Bridge, the citizens caused thirteen ships to be sunk at Woolwich, and four at Blackwall, and platforms furnished with artillery to defend them were raised in several places. The consternation was very great, and the complaints were no less so. It was openly said the king, out of avarice, had kept the money so generously given to him to continue the war, and left his ships and subjects exposed to the insults of the enemy. After this exploit, Ruyter sailed to Portsmouth, with a design to burn the ships in that harbour; but finding them secured, he sailed to the west, and took some ships in Torbay. He then sailed eastward, beat the English force before Harwich, and chased a squadron of nineteen men-of-war, commanded by Sir Edward Spragg, who was obliged to retire into the Thames. In a word, he kept the coasts of England in a continual alarm all July, till he received news of the conclusion of peace.

This daring attack was no doubt the cause of Tilbury Fort being made to assume its present form. It is now a regular fortification, and may be justly looked upon as the key to the City of London. The plan of the building was laid out by Sir Martin Beckman, chief engineer to Charles II., who also designed the works at Sheerness. The foundation is laid upon piles driven down, two on end of each other, till they were assured they were below the channel of the river, and that the piles, which were pointed with iron, entered into the solid chalk rock. On the land side, the works are complete; the bastions are faced with brick. There is a double ditch, or moat, the innermost of which is 180 feet broad, with a good counterscarp, and a covered way marked out with ravelins and tenailles. There are some small brick redoubts; the chief strength, however, of this part of the fort consists in being able to lay the whole level under water, and, by that means, make it impossible for an enemy to carry on approaches that way. On the river side is a very strong curtain, with the picturesque water-gate shown in our engraving in the middle. Before this curtain is a platform, in the place of a counterscarp, on which are planted cannon of large size. These completely command the river, and would no doubt cripple the ships of an enemy attempting to pass in this direction. A few years ago there were placed on the platform 106 cannon, carrying from 24 to 46 pounds each, besides smaller ones planted between them. The bastions and curtains are also planted with guns.

The circular tower shown in the engraving was in existence in the time of Queen Elizabeth, and was called the Block-house.

RINGING THE CHANGES.

It is curious to note the number of changes which may be rung on different peals. The changes on seven bells are 5,040; on twelve 479,001,600, which it would take ninety-one years to ring at the rate of two strokes in a second. The changes on fourteen bells could not be rung through at the same rate in less than 16,575 years: and upon four-and-twenty, they would require more than 117,000 billions of years.

DISGRACEFUL STATE OF THE LONDON POLICE IN 1724.

That notorious burglar, Jack Sheppard, finished his disgraceful career at Tyburn in the year 1724, and we notice the event, not with the view of detailing the disgusting particulars of an execution, but because the outrages which were allowed to take place after the dreadful scene was over, exhibit in a striking light the miserable police regulations which existed at that period, and the manner in which the mob were allowed to have it nearly all their own way. The Sheriff's officers, aware of the person they had to contend with, thought it prudent to secure his hands on the morning of execution. This innovation produced the most violent resistance on Sheppard's part; and the operation was performed by force. They then proceeded to search him, and had reason to applaud their vigilance, for he had contrived to conceal a penknife in some part of his dress. The ceremony of his departure from our world passed without disorder; but, the instant the time expired for the suspension of the body, an undertaker, who had followed by his friends' desire with a hearse and attendants, would have conveyed it to St. Sepulchre's churchyard for interment; but the mob, conceiving that surgeons had employed this unfortunate man, proceeded to demolish the vehicle, and attack the sable dependants, who escaped with difficulty. They then seized the body, and, in the brutal manner common to those wretches, beat it from each to the other till it was covered with bruises and dirt, and till they reached Long-acre, where they deposited the miserable remains at a public-house called the Barley-mow. After it had rested there a few hours the populace entered into an enquiry why they had contributed their assistance in bringing Sheppard to Long-acre; when they discovered they were duped by a bailiff, who was actually employed by the surgeons; and that they had taken the corpse from a person really intending to bury it. The elucidation of their error exasperated them almost to phrensy, and a riot immediately commenced, which threatened the most serious consequences, The inhabitants applied to the police, and several magistrates attending, they were immediately convinced the civil power was insufficient to resist the torrent of malice ready to burst forth in acts of violence. They therefore sent to the Prince of Wales and the Savoy, requesting detachments of the guards; who arriving, the ringleaders were secured, the body was given to a person, a friend of Sheppard, and the mob dispersed to attend it to the grave at St. Martin's in the fields, where it was deposited in an elm coffin, at ten o'clock the same night, under a guard of soldiers, and with the ceremonies of the church.

A TRIUMPH OF ENERGY.

After the accession of Tippoo Saib to the throne of Mysore in 1782, the English made overtures for a termination of the war which had been commenced by his father; but flushed by the possession of a large army, a well-filled treasury, a passion for war, and an inordinate sense of his own importance, Tippoo refused all terms of pacification, and left the English no alternative but to battle against him as they could. Lord Macartney, who was at that time the Governor of Madras, on becoming acquainted with the determination of Tippoo, resolved to prosecute hostilities with the greatest vigour, and having placed Col. Fullerton at the head of his force, he provided him with an army, collected from various parts, of 16,000 good troops, and afforded that excellent officer all available assistance in carrying the war into Tippoo's territory. Fullerton laid his plans with considerable skill; he encouraged the natives to bring and sell provisions to him on his march, effectually checked devastation and plundering, scrupulously respected the religious opinions of the Hindus, consolidated and improved the mode of march, and availed himself of the subtle cunning and nimble feet of the natives to establish a remarkably complete courier-system, whereby he could receive and communicate intelligence with a rapidity never before attained by any European officer in India. He had to choose between two systems of strategy--either to march through the Mysore territory, and frustrate Tippoo in his siege of Mangalore; or boldly to attack Seringapatam, in order to compel Tippoo to leave Mangalore as a means of defending his own capital. The colonel decided on the adoption of the latter course, as promising more fruitful results. Being at Daraporam, 200 miles south of Seringapatam, Fullerton resolved to divert the route, and take a circuit nearer the western coast, where the capture of the strong fort of Palagatcherry would afford him a valuable intermediate depot, commanding one of the chief roads from the Malabar to the Coromandel coasts. On the 18th of October he started. After capturing a few small forts, he ascended to high ground, where dense forests, deep ravines, and tortuous water courses embarrassed every yard of his progress: to fill up the ravines before he could drag his artillery over them, to throw trees across them where the depth was too great for filling up, to clear gaps through forests with the axe, to contend against tremendous rains--were only part of the difficulties he had to meet; but he met them like a skilful commander, reached Palagatcherry on the 5th of November, and captured the fort on the 15th, obtaining with it a welcome supply of money, grain, guns, powder, shot, and military stores. When the difficulties which Colonel Fullerton had to encounter, and the triumphant manner in which he overcame them, are taken into consideration, it will be readily admitted, we think, that his enterprise is well deserving of being recorded as a striking example of what may be accomplished by a union of professional skill and invincible energy. Our engraving represents one of the devices which Colonel Fullerton employed for the purpose of enabling his forces to pass over a mountain torrent.

Bridge over Mountain Torrent.]

STORMING OF THE BASTILLE AT PARIS.

The Bastille.]

The great Revolution in France, at the close of the last century, was full of wonderful events, many of which might be appropriately recorded in our pages. One of the most striking among them was the storming and capture of the Bastille, a vast state-prison which was begun to be built in 1369 by Charles V., and finished by his successor in 1383. The demolition of this fortress was the first triumph of the armed populace of Paris, and it rendered the progress of the revolution irresistible. As the day closed in on the evening of Monday, the 14th of July, 1789, a reckless multitude of rioters, after seizing 30,000 muskets and several pieces of artillery at the Hotel des Invalides, rushed in wild excitement to the Bastille, rendered hateful to the people by the political imprisonment of many hapless men in past times, although less frequently applied to similar purposes under the milder rule of Louis XVI. An armed mob of at least 100,000 men, aided by troops who joined them in whole regiments at a time, had not long to contend against the old fortress. The governor, De Launay, made such a defence as a brave officer might at such a juncture; but his few troops were bewildered and wavering; he received orders from the Hotel de Ville which he knew not whether to obey or resist, but no instructions from the court or the ministers; and the military aid to the mob became stronger than any force he could bring to bear against them. The chains of three drawbridges were broken by hatchets; straw, wood, oil, and turpentine were brought and kindled, to burn down the gates; and after many volleys from the mob had been answered by a few from the fortress, De Launay, seeing no hope of succour, resolved to blow up the place rather than yield. In this he was prevented by the Swiss guards, who formed a part of the small garrison, and who, after a parley with the insurgents, opened the gates, and surrendered. The Bastille was taken. The ruffians, heeding nothing but their own furious passions, disregarded the honourable rules of capitulation; they beheaded De Launay in a clumsy and barbarous manner, and putting his head on a spike, carried it through the streets shouting, laughing, and singing; they were prevented only by an accidental interruption from burning alive a young lady whom they found in one of the court-yards; they hung or maltreated many of the Swiss and invalid soldiers; and they fearfully hacked the bodies of three or four officers in the endeavour to decapitate them. The prisoners within, only seven in number, were liberated, and treated with a drunken revel; while the Chatelet and other prisons became scenes of renewed disorders. The sketch which we give above, of the attack on the Bastille, is taken from a medallion by Andrieu.

DURATION OF LIFE AMONG ARTISTS.

In Gould's Dictionary of Artists, published in 1839, the names, with the ages, of 1,122 persons are given; which furnish the following remarkable facts as to the longevity of this class of men. Died under 60 years old, 474; 60 years and under 70, 250; 70 years and under 80, 243; 80 years and under 90, 134; 90 years and under 100, 19; above 100, 1. The mean age at death of the whole number being 55 years; from which it would appear that the pursuit of the fine arts has a tranquilizing effect upon the spirits, and a tendency to moral refinement in the habits and manners of its professors extremely favourable to the prolongation of life.

CHANGE IN THE VALUE OF LAND.

At Brighton, within the present century, a spot of ground was offered to a hair-dresser in fee, upon condition of shaving the possessor for life. The terms were declined, and the land soon became of immense value.

UNACCOUNTABLE ANTIPATHIES.

The following are a few of the more striking manifestations of that unaccountable feeling of antipathy to certain objects, to which so many persons are subject, and with instances of which--in a modified form perhaps--most people are acquainted with:--

Erasmus, though a native of Rotterdam, had such an aversion to fish, that the smell of it threw him into a fever.

Ambrose Pare mentions a gentleman, who never could see an eel without fainting.

There is an account of another gentleman, who would fall into convulsions at the sight of a carp.

A lady, a native of France, always fainted on seeing boiled lobsters. Other persons from the same country experienced the same inconvenience from the smell of roses, though they were particularly partial to the odour of jonquils or tuberoses.

Joseph Scaliger and Peter Abono never could drink milk.

Cardan was particularly disgusted at the sight of eggs.

Uladislaus, king of Poland, could not bear to see apples.

If an apple was shown to Chesne, secretary to Francis I., he bled at the nose.

A gentleman, in the court of the emperor Ferdinand, would bleed at the nose on hearing the mewing of a cat, however great the distance might be from him.

Henry III. of France could never sit in a room with a cat.

The Duke of Schomberg had the same aversion.

M. de Lancre gives an account of a very sensible man, who was so terrified at seeing a hedgehog, that for two years he imagined his bowels were gnawed by such an animal.

The same author was intimate with a very brave officer, who was so terrified at the sight of a mouse, that he never dared to look at one unless he had his sword in his hand.

M. Vangheim, a great huntsman in Hanover, would faint, or, if he had sufficient time, would run away at the sight of a roasted pig.

John Rol, a gentleman in Alcantara, would swoon on hearing the word _lana_, wool, pronounced, although his cloak was woollen.

The philosophical Boyle could not conquer a strong aversion to the sound of water running through a pipe.

La Mothe le Vayer could not endure the sound of musical instruments, though he experienced a lively pleasure whenever it thundered.

The author of the Turkish Spy tells us that he would rather encounter a lion in the deserts of Arabia, provided he had but a sword in his hand, than feel a spider crawling on him in the dark. He observes, that there is no reason to be given for these secret dislikes. He humorously attributes them to the doctrine of the transmigration of the soul; and as regarded himself, he supposed he had been a fly, before he came into his body, and that having been frequently persecuted with spiders, he still retained the dread of his old enemy.

LONDON RESORTS A HUNDRED YEARS AGO.

In addition to the regular theatres, there were many places of amusement, such as the Vauxhall and Ranelagh Gardens, the site of the latter being now occupied by the houses that hem in Chelsea College; the Rotunda, famous for its music, its gardens, and its piece of water; Bell-size House and Gardens on the Hampstead Road, where tea, coffee, and other refreshments could be had, together with music, from seven in the morning,--with the advantage of having the road to London patrolled during the season by twelve "lusty fellows," and of being able to ride to Hampstead by coach for sixpence a-head; Perrot's inimitable grotto, which could be seen by calling for a pot of beer; Jenny's Whim, at the end of Chelsea Bridge, where "the royal diversion of duck-hunting" could be enjoyed, "together with a decanter of _Dorchester_" for sixpence; Cuper's Gardens, in Lambeth, nearly opposite Somerset House, through which the Waterloo Road was ruthlessly driven; the Marble Hall, at Vauxhall, where an excellent breakfast was offered for one shilling; Sadler's Wells, celebrated both for its aquatic and its wire-dancing attractions; the Floating Coffee-House, on the river Thames, the Folly House at Blackwall, Marybone Gardens, the White Conduit House, and a multitude of others, to enumerate which would be tedious and unprofitable. On Sunday, we are told, the "snobocracy," amused themselves by thrusting their heads into the pillory at Georgia, by being sworn at Highgate, or rolling down Flamstead Hill in Greenwich Park. Some regaled their wives and families with buns at Chelsea and Paddington; others indulged in copious draughts of cyder at the Castle in the pleasant village of Islington; while the undomestic cit, in claret-coloured coat and white satin vest, sipped his beer and smoked his pipe at Mile End, or at the "Adam and Eve" in Pancras, or "Mother Red Cap's" at Camden.

QUEEN ELIZABETH'S STATE COACH.

Queen Elizabeth's State Coach.]