Chapter XV: Preface (14)

The great dean of St. Paul’s, if he may be so called without disparagement to Colet, has two noble stanzas on this subject on “The Progress of the Soul.” They were read to the editor of the _Every-Day Book_, by one of the kindest of human beings, himself a poet, from his own copy of the book wherein the hand of a friend, the greatest living poet, and perhaps the greatest mind of our country hath penned, that “Donne’s rhythm was as inexplicable to the many as blank verse, spite of his rhymes.--Not one in a thousand of his readers have any notion how his lines are to be read. To read Dryden, Pope, &c. you need only count syllables; but to read Donne you must measure _time_, and discover the _time_ of each word by the sense and passion.” Having presumed on the wonted indulgence of friendship, by this transcription from the manuscript notes of a borrowed volume, for counsel and caution in the present reader’s behalf, the verses are submitted to his regard.

Natures great master-piece, an Elephant,
The onely harmelesse great thing; the giant
Of beasts; who thought none had, to make him wise,
But to be just, and thankful, loth t’ offend
(Yet nature hath given him no knees to bend)
Himself he up-props, on himself relies,
And foe to none; suspects no enemies,
Still sleeping stood; vext not his fantasie
Black dreams, like an unbent bow carelessly
His sinewy Proboscis did remisly lie.

In which as in a gallery this mouse
Walk’d and survey’d the rooms of this vast house,
And to the brain, the soul’s bed chamber, went,
And gnaw’d the life cords there; Like a whole town
Clean undermin’d the slain beast tumbled down;
With him the murth’rer dies, whom envy sent
To kill, not scape; for onely he that meant
To die, did ever kill a man of better roome;
And thus he made his foe, his prey and tombe:
Who cares not to turn back, may any whither come.

_Donne._

* * * * *

The “elephant,” according to Randle Holme, is regarded, in heraldry, as “the emblem of vigilance, _nec jacet in somno_; but, like a faithful watchman, sleeps in a sentinel’s posture; it denoteth strength, ingenuity, and ambition of people’s praise; it signifieth also meekness and devotion.” He mentions an elephant _argent_ on a shield _gules_, that “this coat is born by the name of Elphinston.” Describing that “they (the elephant) are a great and vast creature,” he says, that “an elephant’s head erased _gules_,” on a shield _argent_, “is borne, by the name of Brodric.” In explanation of this bearing, Holme’s knowledge seems to have been more correct in heraldry than in natural history, for he declares that “this should be termed a she-elephant, or the head of a female elephant; by reason his tusks or teeth stand upwards, and the male stands downwards; but this,” says our lamenting herald, “is a thing in heraldry not observed.” He positively affirms, that “it were sufficient distinction for a coat of arms between families” (!) as much a distinction “as the bearing of a ram and a ewe, or a lion with red claws, and another with yellow; and much more (distinctive) than ermyne and ermynites, (they) being both one, save (that) the last hath one hair of red on each side of every one of the poulderings: a thing little regarded, makes a great alteration in arms.” His discrepant distinctions between the male and female are exceedingly amusing, and he is quite as diverting with their trunks. He figures their “snowts inwards, or snowts _respected_,” which, he says, is “a term used when things (either quick or dead) are, as it were, regarding or looking one at another.” Then he gives a bearing “_Argent_ out of a coronet _or_; two proboscides (or trunks) of two elephants reflected endorsed, _gules_, each adorned with three trefoils, _vert_. This” says Holme, “is a very great bearing amongst the Dutch, as their books of herauldry inform me; for there is scores of those families, bear the elephant’s trunk thus: some adorned with roses, leaves, pendants, crosses, or with other varieties of things, each set at a certain distance from the trunk by a footstalk. Now,” he goes on to say, with a hand most carefully pointing to the important fact, thus--“☞Now, in the blazon of such coates, you must first observe the _reflection_ of the proboscides, whether the snowts stand respected, or endorsed; and then to tell the exact number of things, each one is endorsed withall: for in some, they will have one thing apeece, others 2, 3, 4, 5, &c. Some, again, will have (with the sides, and others without the sides, adorning,) such and such things set in the concave or hole of the snowt.” He refers to precedents for these essential particulars, and in a page, wherein he assigns “the left _arm_ of a devil, or fiend with a devil-like _foot_,” for “the coat of _Spittachar_,” he gives to “the name of Oberstagh,” on a field _argent_, “the proboscide of an elephant erected and couped, bowed or imbowed, _or_; maned, or haired, to the middle, _azure_; and collared at the bottom with an hawk’s bill fixed thereunto, _gules_; out of the snowte, a Dutch fane pendant _sable_.” So likewise by taking, for your guide, his descriptions under a “demy talbot, his feet converted, turned, or metamorphosed into elephants’ snowts, with two flowers de lis _issuant_, you shall have demy men, women, lions, and other creatures born with several sorts of things in the places of hands and feet.” We will not, however, travel on his “elephants’ snouts in coat armour,” beyond a field _or_, with “the proboscide of an elephant, erected, flexed and recurved _gules_, issuing out of a pierced place; towards the basis thereof, a rose-sprig vertant et revertant, about the trunk to the middle thereof _proper_.” According to Holme, this elegant bearing may be claimed by any reader who has the happiness to bear “the name of Van Snotflough.” Concerning, however, “snowts bowed, and imbowed, erected and couped,” Holme guardedly adds that “these things, though I from my author, and from their similitude to an elephant’s trunk, have all along termed them so, yet, in my judgment they would pass better for horns, and I take them to be absolute horns.” Thus, “at one fell swoop,” when destitute readers may be large with speculation raised by our friend Holme, he disturbs their fond regards, and they who contemplate glorious “atchievements” with the “proboscides of elephants,” must either content themselves with “absolute horns,” or gaze on empty “fields.”

* * * * *

In several parts of India, elephants are employed to perform upon criminals the office of an executioner. With their trunks they break the limbs of the culprit, trample him to death, or impale him upon their tusks, according as they are ordered by their master.

This use of elephants in the east, and their sagacity, is alluded to by one of our poets:--

Borri records their strength of parts,
Extent of thought, and skill in arts;
How they perform the law’s decrees,
And save the state the hangman’s fees:
And how by travel understand
The language of another land.
Let those who question this report
To Pliny’s ancient page resort;
How learn’d was that sagacious breed,
Who now, like them, the Greek can read.

_Gay._

* * * * *

The author of “The Chase” elegantly describes one of the devices by which the elephant is caught in his own domains:--

On distant Ethiopia’s sunburnt coasts,
The black inhabitants a pitfall frame,
With slender poles the wide capacious mouth,
And hurdles slight, they close; o’er these is spread
A floor of verdant turf, with all its flowers
Smiling delusive, and from strictest search
Concealing the deep grave that yawns below.
Then boughs of trees they cut, with tempting fruit
Of various kinds surcharg’d, the downy peach,
The clustering vine, and of bright golden rind
The fragrant orange. Soon as evening grey
Advances slow, besprinkling all around
With kind refreshing dews the thirsty globe,
The stately elephant from the close shade
With step majestic strides, eager to taste
The cooler breeze, that from the sea-beat shore
Delightful breathes, or in the limpid stream
To lave his panting sides; joyous he scents
The rich repast, unweeting of the death
That lurks within. And soon he sporting breaks
The brittle boughs, and greedily devours
The fruit delicious. Ah! too dearly bought;
The price is life. For now the treacherous turf
Trembling gives way; and the unwieldy beast
Self sinking, drops into the dark profound.
So when dilated vapours, struggling, heave
Th’ incumbent earth; if chance the cavern’d ground
Shrinking subside, and the thin surface yield,
Down sinks at once the ponderous dome, ingulph’d
With all its towers.

_Somervile._

According to Bayle, the Romans called elephants _Boves Lucas_, because, as it is reported, they saw them for the first time in Lucania, during a great battle with Pyrrhus. The issue of the conflict was extremely doubtful, for the ground on both sides was lost and won seven times; but, at last, the Epirotes got the victory by means of their elephants, whose smell frighted the Roman horses. In a subsequent engagement they were fatal to Pyrrhus; they threw his troops into disorder, and the Romans were victorious.

* * * * *

_Elephantiasis_ is a disease in man, deriving its name from the elephant, who is also afflicted with a similar disorder. It is also called the Arabian leprosy. Medical treatises describe its appearances, mode of cure in the human being. As few readers possess elephants, it will not be necessary to say more of it, than that it is cutaneous; and that to prevent it in the elephant, the Indians apply oil to the animal’s skin, which, to preserve its pliancy, they frequently bathe with the unctuous fluid.

Some parts of the elephant’s skin, which are not callous, are seized upon by flies, and they torture the animal exceedingly. His tail is too short to reach any portion of his body, and his trunk alone is insufficient to defend him from myriads of his petty enemies. In his native forests he snaps branches from the trees, and with his trunk brushes off his tormentors, and fans the air to prevent their settling on him. In a confined state, he converts a truss of hay into a wisp for the same purpose; and he often gathers up the dust with his trunk and covers the sensible places.

* * * * *

It is related by M. Navarette, that at Macassar, an elephant driver had a cocoa nut given him, which, out of wantonness, he struck twice against his elephant’s forehead to break, and that, the day following, the animal saw some cocoa nuts exposed in the street for sale, one of which he took up with his trunk, and beat it about the driver’s head, till the man was completely dead. “This comes,” says our author, “of jesting with elephants.”

A sentinel at the Menagerie in Paris, used often to desire the visitors not to give the elephants any thing to eat. This admonition was particularly disagreeable to the female elephant, and she took a great dislike to the sentinel. She had several times endeavoured to make him desist from interfering, by squirting water over his head, but without effect. One day, when several persons came to see these animals, one of them offered a piece of bread to the female, which being perceived by the sentinel, just as he was opening his mouth to repeat his usual admonition, the elephant stepped opposite to him, and threw a large quantity of water into his face. This excited the laughter of all the by-standers; but the sentinel coolly wiped his face, placed himself a little on one side, and was as usual very vigilant. Not long after he again found occasion to repeat his former admonition to the spectators; but scarcely had he done it when the elephant tore his musket out of his hand, wound her trunk round it, trod upon it, and did not deliver it again to him till after she had twisted it completely into the form of a screw.

* * * * *

A person resident in Ceylon, near a place where elephants were daily led to water, often used to sit at the door of his house, and occasionally to give to one of these animals some fig-leaves, a food to which elephants are very partial. Once he took it into his head to play the elephant a trick. He wrapped a stone round with fig-leaves, and said to the cornack (the keeper of the elephants) “This time I will give him a stone to eat, and see how it will agree with him.” The cornack answered, “that the elephant would not be such a fool as to swallow the stone.” The man, however, reached the stone to the elephant, who taking it with his trunk applied it to his mouth, and immediately let it fall to the ground. “You see,” said the cornack, “that I was right.” Saying these words, he drove away his elephants, and after having watered them, was conducting them again to their stable. The man who had played the elephant the trick with the stone was still sitting at his door, when, before he was aware, the animal made at him, threw his trunk round him, and dashing him to the ground trampled him immediately to death.

* * * * *

All Naples, says Sonnini, in one of his notes to Buffon’s “Natural History,” has witnessed the docility and sagacity of an elephant that belonged to the king. He afforded great assistance to the masons that were at work upon the palace, by reaching them the water they required, which he fetched in large copper vessels from a neighbouring well. He had observed that these vessels were carried to the brazier’s when they wanted any repair. Observing, therefore, one day that the water ran out at the bottom of one of them, he carried it of his own accord to the brazier, and having waited while it was repairing, received it again from him, and returned to his work. This elephant used to go about the streets of Naples without ever injuring any one: he was fond of playing with children, whom he took up with his trunk, placed them on his back, and set them down again on the ground without their ever receiving the smallest hurt.

* * * * *

There is a remarkable instance of an elephant’s attachment to a very young child. The animal was never happy but when it was near him: the nurse used, therefore, very frequently to take the child in its cradle, and place it between his feet, and this he became at length so accustomed to, that he would never eat his food except when it was present. When the child slept he used to drive off the flies with his proboscis, and when it cried he would move the cradle backward and forward, and thus again rock it to sleep.

* * * * *

Ælian relates that a man of rank in India, having very carefully trained up a female elephant, used daily to ride upon her, and gave her many proofs of his attachment to her. The king of the country, who had heard of the extraordinary gentleness and capacity of this animal, demanded her of her owner; but he, unwilling to part with his favourite, fled with her to the mountains. By order of the king he was pursued, and the soldiers that were sent after him having overtaken him when he was at the top of a steep hill, he defended himself by throwing stones at them, in which he was faithfully assisted by the elephant, who had learnt to throw stones with great dexterity. At length, however, the soldiers gained the summit of the hill, and were about to seize the fugitive, when the elephant rushed amongst them with the utmost fury, trampled some of them to death, dashed others to the ground with her trunk, and put the rest to flight. She then placed her master, who was wounded in the contest, upon her back, and conveyed him to a place of security. There are numerous well-attested anecdotes of similar instances of the affection of elephants towards their owners.

* * * * *

If elephants meet with a sick or wounded animal of their own species, they afford him all the assistance in their power. Should he die, they bury him, and carefully cover his body with branches of trees.

* * * * *

During a war in the East Indies, an elephant, that had received a flesh-wound from a cannon-ball, was conducted twice or thrice to the hospital, where he stretched himself upon the ground to have his wounds dressed. He afterwards always went thither by himself. The surgeon employed such means as he thought would conduce to his cure; he several times even cauterized the wound, and although the animal expressed the pain which this operation occasioned him, by the most piteous groaning, yet he never showed any other sentiments towards the operator than those of gratitude and affection. The surgeon was fortunate enough to completely cure him.

* * * * *

There is a further anecdote of this animal’s gratitude. A soldier at Pondicherry, who was accustomed, whenever he received a portion that came to his share, to carry a certain quantity of it to an elephant, having one day drank rather too freely, and finding himself pursued by the guards, who were going to take him to prison, took refuge under the elephant’s body and fell asleep. In vain did the guard try to force him from this asylum: the elephant protected him with his trunk. The next morning the soldier recovering from his drunken fit, shuddered to find himself stretched under the belly of this huge animal. The elephant, which, without doubt, perceived the embarrassment of the poor fellow, caressed him with his trunk, in order to dissipate his fears, and make him understand that he might now depart in safety.

* * * * *

It should not be forgotten that the poet of “The Seasons” refers to the sagacity of the elephant, his seclusion in his natural state, the arts by which he is ensnared, the magnificence of his appearance in oriental solemnities, and his use in warfare:--

Peaceful, beneath primeval trees, that cast
Their ample shade o’er Niger’s yellow stream,
And where the Ganges rolls his sacred wave;
Or mid the central depth of blackening woods,
High rais’d in solemn theatre around,
Leans the huge elephant: wisest of brutes!
O truly wise! with gentle might endow’d,
Though powerful, not destructive! Here he sees
Revolving ages sweep the changeful earth,
And empires rise and fall; regardless he
Of what the never-resting race of men
Project: thrice happy! could he ’scape their guile,
Who mine, from cruel avarice, his steps;
Or with his towery grandeur swell their state,
The pride of kings! or else his strength pervert,
And bid him rage among the mortal fray,
Astonish’d at the madness of mankind.

_Thomson._

On the 27th of September, 1763, captain Sampson presented an elephant, brought by him from Bengal, to his majesty, at the queen’s house. It was conducted from Rotherhithe that morning at two o’clock, and two blacks and a seaman rode on his back. The animal was about eight feet high.

The zebra, now well known from its being frequently brought into this country, was at that time almost a “stranger in England.” One of them having been given to her late majesty queen Charlotte, obtained the name of the “queen’s ass,” and was honoured by a residence in the tower, whither the elephant was also conveyed. Their companionship occasioned some witticisms, of which there remains this specimen.

EPIGRAM

_On the Elephant’s being placed in the same table with the Zebra._

Ye critics so learn’d, whence comes it to pass
That the elephant wise should be plac’d by an ass?
This matter so strange I’ll unfold in a trice,
Some asses of state stand in need of advice
To screen them from justice, lest in an ill hour,
In the elephant’s stead they be sent to the tower.

On the occasion of captain Sampson’s present to the king, several accounts of the elephant were written. One of them says, that “the largest and finest elephants in the world are those in the island of Ceylon; next to them, those of the continent of India; and lastly, the elephant of Africa.” The Moors, who deal in these animals throughout the Indies, have a fixed price for the ordinary sort, according to their size. They measure from the nail of the fore foot to the top of the shoulder, and for every cubit high they give after the rate of 100_l._ of our money. An African elephant of the largest size measures about nine cubits, or thirteen feet and a half in height, and is worth about 900_l._, but of the breed of Ceylon, four times that sum.”

* * * * *

Tavernier, in proof of the superiority of the elephant of Ceylon, says, “One, I will tell you, hardly to be believed, but that which is a certain truth, which is, that when any other king, or rajah, has one of these elephants of Ceylon, if they bring them any other breed in any other place whatever, so soon as the other elephants behold the Ceylon elephants, by an instinct of nature, they do them reverence, by laying their trunks upon the ground, and raising them up again.”

* * * * *

Though Cæsar does not mention the fact in his commentaries, yet it is certain that he brought elephants with him to England, and that they contributed to his conquest of our predecessors. Polyænus in his “Stratagems,” says, “Cæsar in Britain attempted to pass a great river, (supposed the Thames:) Casolaunus, (in Cæsar, Cassivellaunus) king of the Britons, opposed his passage with a large body of horse and chariots. Cæsar had in his company a vastly large elephant, (μεγιστος ἑλεφας) a creature before that time unknown to the Britons. This elephant he fenced with an iron coat of mail, built a large turret on it, and putting up bowmen and slingers, ordered them to pass first into the stream. The Britons were dismayed at the sight of such an unknown and monstrous beast, (ἁοραλον κ’ ὑπεροφες θηριον) they fled, therefore, with their horses and chariots, and the Romans passed the river without opposition, terrifying their enemies by this single creature.”

* * * * *

In 1730, or 1731, some workmen digging the great sewer in Pall Mall, “over against the King’s Arms tavern,” discovered at the depth of twenty-eight feet, several bones of an elephant. The strata below the surface were ten or twelve feet of artificial soil; below that four or five feet of yellow sand, varying in colour till they came to the bed wherein the bones were found, which consisted of exceedingly fine sand similar to that dug on Hampstead heath.

About eighteen years previously, elephants’ bones were discovered in digging in St. James’s-square; and about fourteen years before that some were found in the same place. These various animal remains in that neighbourhood lay at about the same depth.

* * * * *

In 1740, the remains of an elephant were discovered by some labourers while digging a trench in the park of Frances Biddulph, esq. at Benton, in Sussex. The bones did not lie close together as those of a skeleton usually do. It was evident that the various parallel strata of the earth had never been disturbed; it was concluded that these animal deposits had remained there from the period of the deluge, when it was presumed that they had been conveyed and there, left, on the subsidence of the waters.

* * * * *

In 1756, the workmen of a gentleman, digging upon a high hill near Mendip for ochre and ore, discovered, at the depth of 315 feet from the surface, four teeth, not tusks, and two thighbones with part of the head of an elephant. Remains of the same animal have been at periods discovered at Mersey Island in Essex, at Harwich, at Chartham near Canterbury, at Bowden Parva, in Norfolk, Suffolk, Northamptonshire, and in various other parts of Great Britain and Ireland. Elephant’s teeth were discovered at Islington, in digging a gravel pit.

* * * * *

Shakspeare, in “Troilus and Cressida,” compares the slowness of Ajax to that of the elephant; and in the same play he again compares him to the same animal, and afterwards continues the comparison.

There is reason to believe, that the elephant was adopted at that period as the sign of a public inn. Antonio in “Twelfth Night” tells Sebastian,--

“In the south suburbs at the Elephant
Is best to lodge: I will bespeak our diet,
While you beguile your time.”

NATURALISTS’ CALENDER.

Mean Temperature 39·65.

~March 10.~

_Benjamin West._

A few anecdotes of this eminent painter,
who died on the 10th of March, 1820,
are related in vol. i. p. 346. By the favour
of a gentleman who possesses letters
from him, the reader is presented with

Another gentleman, an artist, has
obligingly made a drawing from the bust
by Mr. Behnes, in sir John Leicester’s
gallery, and thrown in some touches from
intimate acquaintance with Mr. West, in
his last illness, to convey an idea of his
friend’s last looks.

The elegant volume descriptive of sir
John Leicester’s gallery, contains an outline
of Mr. Behnes’ bust; the outline
of that delineation is preserved in the
preceding sketch, because it is familiar.
Mr. Behnes conveys to us the apostolic
simplicity of West’s character, and
the present engraving may be regarded
as inviting the admirers of the
genius of the late president of the royal
academy, who have not seen the marble, to
view it, in sir John Leicester’s noble collection
of works of British artists, which
during a stated season every year is
liberally opened to public inspection.

* * * * *

In “The Examiner” of the 10th of
March, 1816, there are some lines, too
beautiful in sentiment to be passed over
on any day.

PROVIDENCE.

_From the Italian of Filicaia._

Just as a mother with sweet pious face
Yearns tow’rds her little children from her seat,
Gives one a kiss, another an embrace,
Takes this upon her knees, that on her feet:
And while from actions, looks, complaints, pretences,
She learns their feelings and their various will,
To this a look, to that a word dispenses,
And whether stern or smiling, loves them still:--

So Providence for us, high, infinite,
Makes our necessities its watchful task,
Hearkens to all our prayers, helps all our wants;
And ev’n if it denies what seems our right,
Either denies because ’twould have us ask,
Or seems but to deny, or in denying grants.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 38·90.

~March 11.~

_Newark Custom_,

FOUNDED ON A DREAM.

_To the Editor of the Every-Day Book._

_Newark, Feb. 1826._

A curious traditional story of a very extraordinary deliverance of alderman Hercules Clay, and his family, by a dream, is at your service.

I am, &c.

BENJAMIN JOHNSON.

On March 11, every year, at Newark-upon-Trent, penny loaves are given away to every one who chooses to appear at the town-hall, and apply for them, in commemoration of the deliverance of Hercules Clay, during the siege of Newark by the parliamentary forces. This Hercules Clay, by will dated 11th of December, 1694, gave to the mayor and aldermen one hundred pounds, to be placed at interest by the vicar’s consent for his benefit, to preach a sermon on the 11th day of March, annually, and another hundred pounds to be secured and applied in like manner for the poor of the town of Newark, which is distributed as above-mentioned. The occasion of this bequest was singular. During the bombardment of the town of Newark, by the parliament army under Oliver Cromwell, Clay (then a tradesman residing in Newark market-place) dreamed three nights successively, that his house was set fire to by the besiegers. Impressed by the repetition of this warning, as he considered it, he quitted his house, and in the course of a few hours after the prediction was fulfilled.

CHRONOLOGY.

1727. March 11. The equestrian statue of king George I., in Grosvenor-square, was much defaced; the left leg torn off, the sword and truncheon broken off, the neck hacked as if designed to cut off the head, and a libel left at the place.[78]

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 40·60.

[78] British Chronologist.

~March 12.~

1826. _Fifth Sunday in Lent._

CHRONOLOGY.

On the 12th of March, 1808, died, at West Ham, in Essex, George Gregory, D. D. vicar of that parish. He was descended from a respectable family, originally from Scotland, a branch of which was settled in Ireland. His father, who had been educated in Trinity-college, Dublin, held, at the time of his son’s birth, the living of Edernin, and a prebend in the cathedral of Ferns. Dr. Gregory was born on April 14, 1754, but whether in Dublin or in Lancashire, of which county his mother was a native, is uncertain. When twelve years of age, at the death of his father, he was removed to Liverpool, where his mother fixed her residence, desiring to place him in commerce; but a taste for literature being his ruling propensity, he studied in the university of Edinburgh, in 1776 entered into holy orders, and his first station in the church was in the capacity of a curate at Liverpool. His attachments were chiefly among the liberal and literary. In conjunction with Mr. Roscoe, and other congenial spirits, Dr. Gregory had the merit of publicly exposing the cruelty and injustice of the slave trade in the principal seat of that traffic. In 1782, he removed to London, and obtained the curacy of St. Giles’s, Cripplegate, which, on account of the weight of its parochial duty, he left in three years, though by a general invitation he was recalled as morning preacher in 1788; and on the death of the vicar in 1802, a request was presented to the dean and chapter of St. Paul’s, signed by every inhabitant, that he might succeed to the vacancy. In the mean time he pursued with indefatigable industry those literary occupations, which, in various ways, have benefited the public. Dr. Gregory was a useful writer who, without aiming, except rarely, at the reputation of original composition, performed real services to letters, by employing a practised style, an exercised judgment, and extensive information, in works of compilation or abridgement, adapted to the use of that numerous class who desire to obtain knowledge in a compendious manner. His publications were successfully planned and ably executed. He served at different times the curacy and lectureship of St. Botolph, the lectureship of St. Luke’s, and a weekly lectureship of St. Antholin’s, and was elected evening preacher at the Foundling hospital, which the state of his health obliged him to resign. The bishop of London presented him with a small prebend in the cathedral of St. Paul’s, which he relinquished on receiving the rectory of Stapleford, Herts. In 1804, he was presented by Lord Sidmouth (then Mr. Addington) with the valuable living of West Ham, in Essex, when he resigned every other clerical charge except that of Cripplegate, to which parish he was attached by warm feelings of gratitude.

At West Ham he passed four years, discharging with fidelity his duties as a clergyman and a magistrate, and occupying his leisure with literature. Life was endeared to him by domestic enjoyments in the bosom of an amiable and affectionate family, and by the society of many friends, whom he was much valued for his perpetual readiness to serve and oblige, and the unaffected cheerfulness of his conversation. Without any decided cause of illness, the powers of his constitution suddenly and all together gave way; every vital function was debilitated, and after a short confinement, he expired with the calm resignation and animating hopes of a christian. Among his numerous works are, “Essays, historical and moral,” a “Translation of Lowth’s Lectures on the Sacred Poetry of the Hebrews,” a “Church History,” from which he acquired celebrity with the inquiring, “The Economy of Nature,” and a well-known “Dictionary of Arts and Sciences.”[79]

CURIOUS NARRATIVE.

_To the Editor of the Every-Day Book._

Sir,

The interment of the late duchess of Rutland, at Bottesford, the family burialplace, has had a more than usual number of persons to visit its many sepulchral monuments. One of them to the memory of Francis Manners, earl of Rutland, who lies buried here, is very splendid. It represents him with his countess in a kneeling posture, and two children who are supposed to have been _bewitch’d to death_. The inscription to that effect I read, and procured a copy of the particulars from an old book which is always read to visiters by the sexton; and which, as to the execution of the alleged criminals at Lincoln, on the 12th of March, 1618, I find to be correct, and send it for your use.

I am, Sir, &c.

B. JOHNSON.

_Newark, Feb. 22, 1826._

The only alteration in the transcript is a variation from inaccurate spelling.

EXTRACT

_From the Church Book of Bottesford._

When the Right Hon. Sir Francis Manners succeeded his Brother Roger in the Earldom of Rutland, and took possession of Belvoir Castle, and of the Estates belonging to the Earldom, He took such Honourable measures in the Courses of his Life, that He neither displaced Tenants, discharged Servants, nor denied the access of the poor; but, making Strangers welcome, did all the good offices of a Noble Lord, by which he got the Love and good-will of the Country, his Noble Countess being of the same disposition: So that Belvoir Castle was a continual Place of Entertainment, Especially to Neighbours, where Joan Flower and her Daughter were not only relieved at the first, but Joan was also admitted Chairwoman and her daughter Margarett as a Continual Dweller in the Castle, looking to the Poultry abroad, and the washhouse at Home; and thus they Continued till found guilty of some misdemeanor which was discovered to the Lady. The first complaint against Joan Flower the Mother was that she was a Monstrous malicious Woman, full of Oaths, Curses, and irreligious Imprecations, and, as far as appeared, a plain Atheist. As for Margarett, her Daughter, she was frequently accused of going from the Castle, and carrying Provisions away in unreasonable Quantities, and returning in such unseasonable Hours that they could not but Conjecture at some mischief amongst them; and that their extraordinary Expences tended both to rob the Lady and served also to maintain some debauched and Idle Company which frequented Joan Flower’s House. In some time the Countess misliking her (Joan’s) Daughter Margarett, and discovering some Indecencies in her Life, and the Neglect of her Business, discharged her from lying any more in the Castle, yet gave her forty Shillings, a Bolster, and a Mattress of wool, commanding her to go Home. But at last these Wicked Women became so malicious and revengeful, that the Earl’s Family were sensible of their wicked Dispositions; for, first, his Eldest Son Henry Lord Ross was taken sick after a strange Manner, and in a little time Died; and, after, Francis Lord Ross was Severely tortured and tormented by them, with a Strange sickness, which caused his Death. Also, and presently after, the Lady Catherine was set upon by their Devilish Practices, and very frequently in Danger of her Life, in strange and unusual Fits; and, as they confessed, both the Earl and his Countess were so Bewitched that they should have no more Children. In a little time after they were Apprehended and carried to Lincoln Jail, after due Examination before sufficient Justices and discreet Magistrates.

Joan Flower before her Conviction called for bread and butter, and wished it might never go through her if she were guilty of the Matter she was Accused of; and upon mumbling of it in her Mouth she never spoke more, but fell down and Died, as she was carried to Lincoln Jail, being extremely tormented both in Soul and Body, and was Buried at Ancaster.

_The Examination of Margarett Flower the 22nd of January, 1618._

She confessed that, about four years since, her Mother sent her for the right Hand glove of Henry Lord Ross, and afterwards her Mother bid her go again to the Castle of Belvoir, and bring down the glove, or some other thing, of Henry Lord Ross’s; and when she asked for what, her Mother answered to hurt My Lord Ross; upon which she brought down a glove, and gave it to her Mother, who stroked _Rutterkin_ her cat (the Imp) with it, after it was dipped in hot water, and, so, pricked it often after; which Henry Lord Ross fell sick, and soon after Died. She further said that finding a glove, about two or three years since of Francis Lord Ross’s, she gave it to her mother, who put it into hot water, and afterwards took it out, and rubbed it on Rutterkin (the Imp,) and bid him go upwards, and afterwards buried it in the yard, and said “a mischief light on him but he will mend again.” She further confessed that her Mother and her and her sister agreed together to bewitch the Earl and his Lady, that they might have no more children; and being asked the cause of this their malice and ill-will, she said that, about four years since, the Countess, taking a dislike to her, gave her forty shillings, a Bolster, and a mattress, and bid her be at Home, and come no more to dwell at the Castle; which she not only took ill, but grudged it in her heart very much, swearing to be revenged upon her, on which her Mother took wool out of the Mattress, and a pair of gloves which were given her by Mr. Vovason, and put them into warm water, mingling them with some blood, and stirring it together; then she took them out of the water, and rubbed them on the belly of Rutterkin, saying, “the Lord and the Lady would have Children but it would be long first.” She further confessed that, by her Mother’s command, she brought to her a piece of a handkerchief of the Lady Catherine, the Earl’s Daughter, and her Mother put it into hot water, and then, taking it out, rubbed it upon Rutterkin, bidding him “fly and go,” whereupon Rutterkin whined and cryed “Mew,” upon which the said Rutterkin had no more power of the Lady Catherine to hurt her.

Margarett Flower and Phillis Flower, the Daughters of Joan Flower, were executed at Lincoln for Witchcraft, March 12, 1618.

Whoever reads this history should consider the ignorance and dark superstition of those times; but certainly these women were vile abandoned wretches to pretend to do such wicked things.

“_Seek not unto them that have familiar spirits, nor wizards, nor unto witches that peep and that mutter: should not a people seek unto their God._” Isaiah xix.

* * * * *

This entry in the church book of Bottesford is certainly very curious. Its being read at this time, to the visitors of the monuments, must spread the “wonderful story” far and near among the country people, and tend to the increase of the sexton’s perquisites; but surely if that officer be allowed to disseminate the tale, he ought to be furnished with a few sensible strictures which he might be required to read at the same time. In all probability, the greater number of visitants are attracted thither by the surprising narrative, and there is at least one hand from whom might be solicited such remarks as would tend to obviate undue impressions. Instances are already recorded in this work of the dreadful influence which superstitious notions produce on the illiterate.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 40·72.

[79] Dr. Aikin’s Athenæum.

~March 13.~

CHRONOLOGY.

On the 13th of March, 1614, in the reign of king James I., Bartholomew Legat, an Arian, was burnt in Smithfield for that heresy.

1722, March 13, there were bonfires, illuminations, ringing of bells, and other demonstrations of joy, in the cities of London and Westminster, upon the dissolution of the septennial parliament.[80]

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 40·47.

[80] British Chronologist.

~March 14.~

FOOTBALL.

_To the Editor of the Every-Day Book._

Sir,--Perhaps you are not aware that, during fine weather, football is played every Sunday afternoon, in the fields, between Oldfield’s dairy and Copenhagen-house, near Islington, by Irishmen. It generally commences at three o’clock, and is continued till dusk. The boundaries are fixed and the parties chosen. I believe, as is usual in the sister kingdom, county-men play against other county-men. Some fine specimens of wrestling are occasionally exhibited, in order to delay the two men who are rivals in the pursuit of the ball; meantime the parties’ friends have time to pursue the combat, and the quick arrival of the ball to the goal is generally the consequence, and a lusty shout is given by the victors.

When a boy, football was commonly played on a Sunday morning, before church time, in a village in the west of England, and the church-piece was the ground chosen for it.

I am, &c.

J. R. P.

_Islington._

_Royal Bridal._

On the 14th of March, 1734, his serene highness the prince of Orange was married at St. James’s, to the princess-royal.

At eleven o’clock at night, the royal family supped in public in the great state ball-room.

About one, the bride and bridegroom retired, and afterwards sat up in their bed-chamber, in rich undresses, to be seen by the nobility, and other company at court.

On the following day there was a more splendid appearance of persons of quality to pay their compliments to the royal pair than was ever seen at this court; and in the evening there was a ball equally magnificent, and the prince of Orange danced several minuets.

A few days before the nuptials, the Irish peers resident in London, not having received summonses to attend the royal procession, met to consider their claims to be present, and unanimously resolved that neither themselves nor the peeresses would attend the wedding as spectators, and that they would not send to the lord chamberlain’s office for their tickets.[81]

THE “PAPEGUAY.”

_To the Editor of the Every-Day Book._

_Kennington, March 7, 1826._

Sir,--The following brief observations on the sport mentioned at p. 289, may not be considered unacceptable; strange to say, it is not mentioned by either Strutt or Fosbroke in their valuable works.

This sport obtained over the principal parts of Europe. The celebrated composer, C. M. Von Weber, opens his opera of horrors, “Der Freischütz,” with a scene of shooting for the popingay. This is a proof that it is common in Germany, where the successful candidate is elected a petty sovereign for the day. The necessity and use of such a custom in a country formed for the chase, is obvious.

The author of the “Waverley” novels, in his excellent tale of “Old Mortality,” introduces a scene of shooting for the popingay, as he terms it. It was usual for the sheriff to call out the feudal array of the county, annually, to what was called the _wappen-schaws_. The author says, “The sheriff of the county of Lanark was holding the wappen-schaw of a wild district, called the Upper Ward of Clydesdale, on a traugh or level plain, near to a royal borough, the name of which is in no way essential to my story, upon the morning of the 5th of May, 1679, when our narrative commences. When the musters had been made, and duly reported, the young men, as was usual, were to mix in various parts, of which the chief was to shoot at the _popingay_, an ancient game formerly practised with archery, and then with firearms. This was the figure of a bird, decked with party-coloured feathers, so as to resemble a popingay or parrot. It was suspended to a pole, and served for a mark, at which the competitors discharged their fusees and carbines in rotation, at the distance of sixty or seventy paces. He whose ball brought down the mark, held the proud title of captain of the popingay for the remainder of the day, and was usually escorted in triumph to the most reputable charge-house in the neighbourhood, where the evening was closed with conviviality, conducted under his auspices.” From the accuracy and research of the author, I am inclined to take it for granted, that this sport was common in Scotland.

A friend informs me it is common in Switzerland, and I have no doubt obtained pretty generally over Europe. In conclusion, allow me to remark that in my opinion the man on horseback, with the popingay on the pole, is returning as victor from the sport; the pole in the distance evidently had the honour of supporting the popingay, until it was carried away by the aim of the marksman.

I am, sir, &c.

T. A.

* * * * *

The editor is obliged by the conjecture at the close of the preceding letter, and concurs in thinking that he was himself mistaken, in presuming that the French print from whence the engraving was taken, represented the going out to the shooting. He will be happy to be informed of any other misconception or inaccuracy, because it will assist him in his endeavours to render the work a faithful record of manners and customs. To that end he will always cheerfully correct any error of opinion or statement.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 40·90.

[81] Gentleman’s Magazine.

~March 15.~

_The Highgate Custom._

With much pleasure insertion is given to the following letter and its accompanying song.

_To the Editor of the Every-Day Book._

_Seymour-street, Feb. 18, 1826._

Sir,--In illustration of the custom of “Swearing on the horns at Highgate,” described at p. 79, in the _Every-Day Book_ of the present year, I enclose you a song, which was introduced in the pantomime of _Harlequin Teague_, performed at the Haymarket theatre, in August, 1742. If you think it worthy the columns of your valuable work, it is at your service.

I am, &c.

PASCHE.

_Song by the Landlord of the Horns_

Silence! take notice, you are my son,
Full on your father look, sir;
This is an oath you may take as you run,
So lay your hand on the Hornbook, sir.
Hornaby, hornaby, Highgate and horns,
And money by hook or by crook, sir.
Hornaby, &c.

Spend not with cheaters, nor cozeners, your life,
Nor waste it on profligate beauty;
And when you are married, be kind to your wife,
And true to all petticoat duty.
Dutiful, beautiful, kind to your wife,
And true from the cap to the shoetie.
Dutiful, &c.

To drink to a man when a woman is near,
You never should hold to be right, sir;
Nor unless ’tis your taste, to drink small for strong beer,
Or eat brown bread when you can get white, sir.
Manniken, canniken, good meat and drink
Are pleasant at morn, noon, and night, sir
Manniken, &c.

To kiss with the maid when the mistress is kind,
A gentleman ought to be loth, sir:
But if the maid’s fairest, your oath does not bind,
Or you may, if you like it, kiss both, sir.
Kiss away, both you may, sweetly smack night and day,
If you like it--you’re bound by your oath, sir.
Kiss away, &c.

When you travel to Highgate, take this oath again,
And again, like a sound man, and true, sir,
And if you have with you some more merry men,
Be sure you make them take it too, sir.
Bless you, son, get you gone, frolic and fun,
Old England, and honest true blue, sir.
Bless you, &c.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 40· 8.

~March 16.~

_Cornish Sports_,

AND THE

_Origin of Piccadilly_.

From several valuable communications, a letter is selected for insertion this day, because it happens to be an open one, and therefore free for pleasant intelligence on any subject connected with the purpose of this publication. It is an advantage resulting from the volume already before the public, that it acquaints its readers with the kind of information desired to be conveyed, more readily than the prospectus proposed to their consideration. If each reader will only contribute something to the instruction and amusement of the rest, the editor has no doubt that he will be able to present a larger series of interesting notices and agreeable illustrations, than any work he is at present acquainted with.

_To the Editor of the Every-Day Book._

_February 6, 1826._

Sir,--I send you the account of two more games, or in-doors sports, in vogue among the country people in Cornwall. Of the latter, Mr. D. Gilbert has made slight mention in the introduction to his carols, second edition; but he states that these games, together with carol-singing, may be considered as obsolete, which is by no means the case: even yet in most of the western parishes, (and of these I can speak from personal observation,) the carol-singers, not only sing their “auntient chaunts” in the churches, but go about from house to house in parties. I am told the practice is the same in many other parts of the county, as it is also in various places throughout the kingdom. I have added a slight notice respecting Piccadilly, which (if worth inserting) may be new to some of your readers; but, now for our Cornish sports: I state them as I found them, and they are considered provincial.

First, then, the _Tinkeler’s_ (tinker’s) shop.--In the middle of the room is placed a large iron pot, filled with a mixture of soot and water. One of the most humourous of the set is chosen for the master of the shop, who takes a small mop in his left hand, and a short stick in his right; his comrades each have a small stick in his right hand; the master gives each a separate name, as _Old Vulcan_, _Save-all_, _Tear’em_, _All-my-men_, _Mend-all_, &c. After these preliminaries, all kneel down, encircling the iron vessel. The master cries out, “Every one (that is, all together, or ‘one and all,’ as the Cornish say,) and I;” all then hammer away with their sticks as fast as they can, some of them with absurd grimaces. Suddenly the master will, perhaps, cry out, “_All-my-men_ and I;” upon this, all are to cease working, except the individual called _All-my-men;_ and if any unfortunate delinquent fails, he is treated with a salute from the mop well dipped in the black liquid: this never fails to afford great entertainment to the spectators, and if the master is “well up to the sport,” he contrives that none of his comrades shall escape unmarked; for he changes rapidly from _All-my-men_ and I, to _Old Vulcan_ and I, and so on, and sometimes names two or three together, that little chance of escaping with a clean face is left.