Chapter XVI: Preface (15)

_The Corn-market._--Here, as before, an experienced reveller is chosen to be the master, who has an assistant, called _Spy-the-market_. Another character is _Old Penglaze_, who is dressed up in some ridiculous way, with a blackened face, and a staff in his hand; he, together with part of a horse’s hide girt round him, for the hobby-horse, are placed towards the back of the market. The rest of the players sit round the room, and have each some even price affixed to them as names; for instance, _Two-pence_, _Four-pence_, _Six-pence_, _Twelve-pence_, &c. The master then says “Spy-the-market,” to which the man responds, “Spy-the-market;” the master repeats, “Spy-the-market;” the man says, “Aye, sirrah.” The master then asks the price of corn, to which Spy-the-market, may reply any price he chooses, of those given to his comrades, for instance, “Twelve-pence.” The master then says, “Twelve-pence,” when the man hearing that price answers “Twelve-pence,” and a similar conversation ensues, as with Spy-the-market before, and Twelve-pence names his price, and so the game proceeds; but if, as frequently happens, any of the prices forget their names, or any other mistakes occur in the game, the offender is to be sealed, a ceremony in which the principal amusement of the game consists; it is done as follows,--the master goes to the person who has forfeited, and takes up his foot, saying, “Here is my seal, where is old Penglaze’s seal?” and then gives him a blow on the sole of the foot. Old Penglaze then comes in on his horse, with his feet tripping on the floor, saying, “Here I comes, neither riding nor a foot;” the horse winces and capers, so that the old gentleman can scarcely keep his seat. When he arrives at the market, he cries out, “What work is there for me to do?” The master holds up the foot of the culprit and says, “Here, Penglaze, is a fine shoeing match for you.” Penglaze dismounts; “I think it’s a fine colt indeed.” He then begins to work by pulling the shoe off the unfortunate _colt_, saying “My reward is a full gallon of moonlight, besides all other customs for shoeing in this market;” he then gives one or two hard blows on the shoe-less foot, which make its proprietor tingle, and remounts his horse, whose duty it is now to get very restive, and poor Penglaze is so tossed up and down, that he has much difficulty to get to his old place without a tumble. The play is resumed until Penglaze’s seal is again required, and at the conclusion of the whole there is a set dance.

PICCADILLY.--The pickadil was the round hem, or the piece set about the edge or skirt of a garment, whether at top or bottom; also a kind of stiff collar, made in fashion of a band, that went about the neck and round about the shoulders; hence the term “wooden peccadilloes,” (meaning the pillory) in “Hudibras,” and see Nares’s “Glossary,” and Blount’s “Glossographia.” At the time that ruffs, and consequently _pickadils_, were much in fashion, there was a celebrated ordinary near St. James’s, called _Pickadilly_, because, as some say, it was the outmost, or skirt-house, situate at the _hem_ of the town; but it more probably took its name from one Higgins, a tailor, who made a fortune by pickadils, and built this with a few adjoining houses. The name has by a few been derived from a much frequented shop for sale of these articles; this probably took its rise from the circumstance of Higgins having built houses there, which, however, were not for selling ruffs; and indeed, with the exception of his buildings, the site of the present Piccadilly was at that time open country, and quite out of the way of trade. At a later period, when Burlington-house was built, its noble owner chose the situation, then at some distance from the extremity of the town, that _none might build beyond him_. The ruffs formerly worn by gentlemen were frequently double-wired, and stiffened with yellow starch; and the practice was at one time carried to such an excess that they were limited by queen Elizabeth “to a nayle of a yeard in depth.” In the time of James I. they still continued of a preposterous size, so that previous to the visit made by that monarch to Cambridge in 1615, the vice-chancellor of the university thought fit to issue an order, prohibiting “the fearful enormity and excess of apparel seen in all degrees, as, namely, strange peccadilloes, vast bands, huge cuffs, shoe-roses, tufts, locks, and tops of hair, unbeseeming that modesty and carriage of students in so renowned an university.” It is scarcely to be supposed that the ladies were deficient in the size of their ruffs; on the contrary, according to Andrews, (Continuation of Henry’s History of England, vol. ii. 307,) they wore them immoderately large, made of lawn and cambric, and stiffened with yellow starch, for the art of using which, in the proper method, they paid as much as four or five pounds, as also twenty shillings for learning “to seethe starche,” to a Mrs. Dingen Van Plesse, who introduced it, as well as the use of lawn, which was so fine that it was a byword, “that shortly they would wear ruffes of a spider’s web.” The poking of these ruffs gracefully was an important attainment. Some satirical Puritans enjoyed the effects of a shower of rain on the ruff-wearers; for “then theyre great ruffes stryke sayle, and downe they falle, as dish-clouts fluttering in the winde.” Mrs. Turner, who was one of the persons implicated in the death of sir Thomas Overbury, is said to have gone to the place of execution in a fashionable ruff, after which their credit was very much diminished.

I am, sir,

Your obedient servant,

W. S.

P. S.--It is perhaps scarcely worth observing, that the Monday preceding Ash-Wednesday is, in the west, called _Shrove-Monday_; and that _peas and pork_ is as standard a dish on that day as pancakes on Shrove-Tuesday, or salt fish on Ash-Wednesday.

* * * * *

Having thus performed a duty to a valued correspondent without waiting till Christmas, the editor takes the liberty of referring to the observations by which the preceding letter was introduced, and respectfully expresses an earnest hope to be favoured with such communications as, from the past conduct of the _Every-Day Book_, may appear suitable to its columns. For the first time, he believes, he ventures to allude to any inconvenience he has felt while conducting it; nor does he hint at difficulty now from lack of materials, for he has abundance; but it is a truth, which he is persuaded many of his readers will be happy to mitigate, that at the present moment he is himself so very unwell, and has so much indisposition in his family to distract his mind, that he cannot arrange his collections; services, therefore, under such circumstances, will be peculiarly acceptable. If one or two of his correspondents should refer him to communications which their kindness have already placed in his hands, he answers, that he is really too ill to seek them amongst his papers. From this it will be seen how very much he really needs, and how much he covets, assistance. He ventures to think that he shall not have made this public appeal in vain, and he again calls on the friends and readers of his labours to send him their aid.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 40·51.

~March 17.~

_1826, Cambridge Term ends._

“An Irishman all in his glory was there,
With a sprig of shillelagh and shamrock so green.”

It happens that several _fairs_, similar to those in the country parts of England as to tents and booths, are held in Ireland on Saint Patrick’s day, and then its hilarity is heightened by the publicity of the celebration.

The usual fair day or “_patron_,” or, as it is usually pronounced, _pattern_ or _patten_, is a festive meeting to commemorate the virtues of a patron saint. It is a kind of rural fete with drinking and dancing, whereto (in Ireland) is added fighting, “unless the neighbouring magistrates personally interfere, or the spirits of the people are repressed by a conscious participation in plots and conspiracies.” This is the character of these festivals by an Irish writer, who relates an anecdote resulting from one of these festivals: “We were waiting (he says,) in the vain hope that the weather would clear up, and allow us a fine evening for return, when a poor stranger from Joyce country came before ‘his honour’ as a magistrate. His black eye, swelled face, and head and shoulders covered with clotted blood, too plainly told the history of his sufferings; and his woeful countenance formed a strange and ludicrous contrast with his account of the pleasures of the preceding evening.” He had obtained these features at a _patron_. “The poor fellow had travelled many a weary mile across the mountains to share its rustic mirth and revelry: but, ‘plaze your honour, there was a little bit of fighting in it,’ and as no true follower of St. Macdarragh could refuse to take a part in such a peaceful contest, he had received, and no doubt given, many a friendly blow; but his meditations on a broken head during the night, had both cooled his courage and revived his prudence, and he came to swear before ‘his honour’ a charge of assault and battery against those who had thus woefully demolished his upper works.”[82]

The constant use of the “shillelagh” by Irishmen at a “patron,” is a puzzling fact to Englishmen, who, on their own holidays, regard a “shillelagh” as a malicious weapon. In the hand of an Irishman, in his own country, at such a season, it is divested of that character; this singular fact will be accounted for, when the origin of the custom comes to be considered. At present, nothing more is requisite than to add, that the “shillelagh” is seldom absent on St. Patrick’s day, celebrated as a _patron_.

* * * * *

Some account of the commemoration of this festival, and of the tutelar saint of Ireland and his miracles, is already given in vol. i. p. 363. To this may be added the annexed notices relative to the day, obtained from an Irish gentleman.

* * * * *

It is a tradition that St. Patrick first landed at _Croagh Patrick_, a high and beautiful mountain in the county of Mayo, from which place he banished all venomous animals into the sea, and to this day, multitudes of the natives who are catholics, make pilgrimages to Croagh Patrick, under the persuasion of efficacy in these journies to atone for misdeeds, or mitigate the penalties attached to sin.

It is a very popular tradition that when St. Patrick was dying, he requested his weeping and lamenting friends to forego their grief, and rather rejoice at his comfortable exit, for the better furtherance of which, he advised each one to take “a drop of something to drink;” and that this last injunction of the saint in reverence to his character was complied with. However this may be, it is a custom on his anniversary to observe the practice to supererogation; for the greater number of his present followers, who take a little “crathur” for the purpose of dissipating woeful reminiscencies, continue to imbibe it till they “lisp and wink.”

Some years ago, “Patrick’s day” was welcomed, in the smaller country towns or hamlets, by every possible manifestation of gladness and delight. The inn, if there was one, was thrown open to all comers, who received a certain allowance of oaten bread and fish. This was a benevolence from the host, and to it was added a “Patrick’s pot,” or quantum of beer; but, of late years, whiskey is the beverage most esteemed. The majority of those who sought entertainment at the village inn, were young men who had no families, whilst those who had children, and especially whose families were large, made themselves as snug as possible by the turf fire in their own cabins.

Where the village or hamlet could not boast of an inn, the largest cabin was sought out, and poles were extended horizontally from one end of the apartment to the other; on these poles, doors purposely unhinged, and brought from the surrounding cabins were placed, so that a table of considerable dimensions was formed, round which all seated themselves, each one providing his own oaten bread and fish. At the conclusion of the repast, they sat for the remainder of the evening over a “Patrick’s pot,” and finally separated quietly, and it is to be hoped in perfect harmony.

In the city of Dublin, “Patrick’s day” is still regarded as a festival from the highest to the lowest ranks of society. There is an annual ball and supper at the lord lieutenant’s residence in the castle, and there are private convivial assemblies of the most joyous character. On this day every Irishman who is alive to its importance, adorns his hat with bunches of shamrock, which is the common trefoil or clover, wherewith, according to tradition, St. Patrick converted the Irish nation to belief in the doctrine of the trinity in unity. In the humbler ranks, it is the universal practice to get a morning dram as a preparation for the duties of the festival. They then attend chapel and hear high mass. After the ceremonies and observances peculiar to the Romish worship, they again resort to the whiskey shop, and spend the remainder of the day in devotions to Bacchus, which are mostly concluded, with what in England would be called, by persons of this class, “a row.”

On Patrick’s day, while the bells of churches and chapels are tuned to joyous notes, the piper and harper play up “Patrick’s day in the morning;” old women, with plenteous supplies of trefoil, are heard in every direction, crying “Buy my shamrocks, green shamrocks,” and children have “Patrick’s crosses” pinned to their sleeves. These are small prints of various kinds; some of them merely represent a cross, others are representations of Saint Patrick, trampling the reptiles under his feet.

* * * * *

It appears from this account, and from general narrations, that St. Patrick is honoured on his festival by every mode which mirth can devise for praise of his memory. The following whimsical song is a particular favourite, and sung to “his holiness” by all ranks in the height of convivial excitement:--

_St. Patrick was a Gentleman._

St. Patrick was a gentleman, and he came from decent people:
In Dublin town he built a church and on it put a steeple;
His father was a Wollaghan, his mother an O’Grady,
His aunt she was a Kinaghan, and his wife a widow Brady.
Tooralloo tooralloo, what a glorious man our saint was,
Tooralloo, tooralloo, O whack fal de lal, de lal, &c.

Och! Antrim hills are mighty high and so’s the hill of Howth too;
But we all do know a mountain that is higher than them both too;
’Twas on the top of that high mount St. Patrick preach’d a sermon,
He drove the frogs into the bogs, and banished all the vermin.
Tooralloo, &c.

No wonder that we Irish lads, then, are so blythe and frisky;
St. Patrick was the very man that taught us to drink whiskey;
Och! to be sure, he had the knack and understood distilling,
For his mother kept a sheebeen shop, near the town of Enniskillen.
Tooralloo, &c.

The day after St. Patrick’s day is “Sheelah’s day,” or the festival in honour of Sheelah. Its observers are not so anxious to determine who “Sheelah” was, as they are earnest in her celebration. Some say she was “Patrick’s wife,” others that she was “Patrick’s mother,” while all agree that her “immortal memory” is to be maintained by potations of whiskey. The shamrock worn on St. Patrick’s day should be worn also on Sheelah’s day, and, on the latter night, be drowned in the last glass. Yet it frequently happens that the shamrock is flooded in the last glass of St. Patrick’s day, and another last glass or two, or more, on the same night, deluges the over-soddened trefoil. This is not “quite correct,” but it is endeavoured to be remedied the next morning by the display of a fresh shamrock, which is steeped at night in honour of “Sheelah” with equal devotedness.

That Saint Patrick was not married is clear from the rules of the Roman catholic church, which impose celibacy on its clergy. A correspondent suggests that the idea of his matrimonial connection, arose out of a burlesque, or, perhaps, ironical remark, by females of the poorer class in Ireland, to retaliate on their husbands for their excesses on the 17th of March; or, perhaps, from the opportunity the effects of such indulgence afforded them, these fair helpmates are as convivial on the following morning, as their “worser halves” were the preceding day. “Sheelah” is an Irish term, generally applied to a slovenly or muddling woman, more particularly if she be elderly. In this way, probably, the day after St. Patrick’s obtained the name of “Sheelah’s day,” _speciale gratia_, without any reference to the calendar of saints. The saint himself, if we determine from the sacrifices to his memory, is deemed a kind of christian Bacchus; and, on like home-made authority, “Sheelah” is regarded as his consort.

* * * * *

The editor of this work especially regrets that few of the peculiarities regarding this festival which are familiar to Irishmen have been communicated to him. He has received letters expressing surprise that so little has been observed concerning their country. Such complaints have been made under initials, and therefore he could not answer them: the complainants he has no doubt could have contributed largely themselves, and from them he would have required information. As many Irish usages are fast dying away, he hopes and earnestly solicits to be favoured with particulars, which he is persuaded the collections or recollections of his Irish readers can readily furnish, and which he will be most happy in having intrusted to him for publication. Any illustrations of Irish character and manners, especially if drawn up by natives of Ireland, will be highly valued.

* * * * *

On St. Patrick’s day, 1740, the butchers in Clare-market, London, hung up a grotesque figure of an Irishman. A great number of Irishmen came to pull it down, when a fierce battle ensued, much mischief was done, and several persons were dangerously wounded; but a file of musqueteers having been fetched from St. James’s, some of the rioters were taken into custody, and three of them were committed by col. De Veil to Newgate.[83]

* * * * *

A correspondent who signs, “IKEY PINGLE,” communicates a copy of a singular monumental inscription in the churchyard of Grimmingham, in Norfolk. It is subjoined on this day, because the public performer to whom it refers is stated to have quitted this stage of life on this day, in the year 1798.

~Epitaph.~

SACRED

_To the memory of_

THOMAS JACKSON, COMEDIAN,

who was _engaged_, 21st of Dec. 1741, to _play a comic cast of characters, in this great theatre_--the World: for many of which he was _prompted_ by nature to excel.

The season being ended, his _benefit_ over, the charges all paid, and his account closed, he made his _exit_ in the _tragedy_ of Death, on the 17th of March, 1798, in full assurance of being called once more to _rehearsal_; where he hopes to find his _forfeits_ all cleared, his _cast of parts_ bettered, and his situation made agreeable, by him who paid the great stock-debt, for the love he bore to _performers_ in general.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 41·27.

[82] Letters from the Irish Highlands.

[83] Gentleman’s Magazine.

~March 18.~

_Edward, king of the West Saxons._

On this anniversary, which is a holiday in the church of England calendar, and kept at the Exchequer, Rapin says, “I do not know upon what foundation Edward was made both a saint and a martyr, unless it was pretended he was murdered out of revenge for his great affection to Dunstan and the monks.” See farther concerning him in vol. i. p. 372.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 41·75.

~March 19.~

1826. _Oxford Term ends._

PALM SUNDAY.

This is the first of _Passion Week_. To accounts of remarkable ceremonies peculiar to the day, and its present observance, it is proper to add the mode wherein it is celebrated by the papal pontiff at Rome. An eye-witness to the pageant relates as follows:--

About half-past nine in the morning, the pope entered the Sistine chapel, attired in a robe of scarlet and gold, which he wore over his ordinary dress, and took his throne. The cardinals, who were at first dressed in under-robes of a violet colour (the mourning for cardinals), with their rich antique lace, scarlet trains, and mantles of ermine, suddenly put off these accoutrements, and arrayed themselves in most splendid vestments, which had the appearance of being made of carved gold. The tedious ceremony of each separately kissing the pope’s hand, and making their three little bows, being gone through, and some little chaunting and fidgetting about the altar being got over, two palm branches, of seven or eight feet in length, were brought to the pope, who, after raising over them a cloud of incense, bestowed his benediction upon them: then a great number of smaller palms were brought, and a cardinal, who acted as the pope’s aid-de-camp on this occasion, presented one of these to every cardinal as he ascended the steps of the throne, who again kissed the pope’s hand and the palm, and retired. Then came the archbishops, who kissed both the pope’s hand and toe, followed by the inferior orders of clergy, in regular gradations, who only kissed the toe, as they carried off their palms.

The higher dignitaries being at last provided with palms, the deacons, canons, choristers, cardinals, train-bearers, &c. had each to receive branches of olive, to which, as well as to the palms, a small cross was suspended. At last, all were ready to act their parts, and the procession began to move: it began with the lowest in clerical rank, who moved off two by two, rising gradually in dignity, till they came to prelates, bishops, archbishops, and cardinals, and terminated by the pope, borne in his chair of state (_sedia gestatoria_) on men’s shoulders, with a crimson canopy over his head. By far the most striking figures in the procession were the bishops and patriarchs of the Armenian church. One of them wore a white crown, and another a crimson crown glittering with jewels. The mitres of the bishops were also set with precious stones; and their splendid dresses, and long wavy beards of silver whiteness, gave them a most venerable and imposing appearance.

The procession issued forth into the Sala Borgia (the hall behind the Sistine chapel), and marched round it, forming nearly a circle; for by the time the pope had gone out, the leaders of the procession had nearly come back again; but they found the gates of the chapel closed against them, and, on admittance being demanded, a voice was heard from within, in deep recitative, seemingly inquiring into their business, or claims for entrance there. This was answered by the choristers from the procession in the hall; and after a chaunted parley of a few minutes, the gates were again opened, and the pope, cardinals, and priests, returned to their seats. Then the passion was chaunted; and then a most tiresome long service commenced, in which the usual genuflections, and tinkling of little bells, and dressings and undressings, and walking up and coming down the steps of the altar, and bustling about, went on; and which at last terminated in the cardinals all embracing and kissing each other, which is considered the kiss of peace.

The palms are artificial, plaited of straw, or the leaves of dried reeds, so as to resemble the real branches of the palm-tree when their leaves are plaited, which are used in this manner for this ceremony in the catholic colonies of tropical climates. These artificial palms, however, are topped with some of the real leaves of the palm-tree, brought from the shores of the gulf of Genoa.[84]

_Palm Sunday in Spain._

The following is a description of the celebration of this day in the cathedral of Seville:--

Early in the morning, the melancholy sound of the _passion-bell_ announces the beginning of the solemnities for which the fast of Lent is a preparation. This bell, the largest of several which are made to revolve upon pivots, is moved by means of two long ropes, which by swinging the bell into a circular motion, are twined, gently at first, round the massive arms of a cross, of which the bell forms the foot, and the head its counterpoise. Six men then draw back the ropes, till the enormous machine receives a sufficient impetus to coil them in an opposite direction; and thus alternately, as long as ringing is required. To give this bell a tone appropriate to the sombre character of the season, it has been cast with several large holes disposed in a circle round the top--a contrivance which without diminishing the vibration of the metal, prevents the distinct formation of any musical note, and converts the sound into a dismal clangour.

The chapter, consisting of about eighty resident members, in choral robes of black silk with long trains and hoods, preceded by the inferior ministers, by thirty clergymen, in surplices, whose deep bass voices perform the plain or Ambrosian chaunt, and by the band of wind-instruments and singers, who execute the more artificial strains of modern or counterpoint music, move in a long procession round the farthest aisles, each holding a branch of the oriental, or date palm, which overtopping the heads of the assembled multitude, nod gracefully, and bend into elegant curves at every step of the bearers. For this purpose a number of palm-trees are kept with their branches tied up together, that, by the want of light, the more tender shoots may preserve a delicate yellow tinge. The ceremony of blessing these branches is solemnly performed by the officiating priest, previously to the procession, after which they are sent by the clergy to their friends, who tie them to the iron bars of the balconies, to be, as they believe, a protection against lightning.

In the long church-service for this day, the organ is silent, the voices being supported by hautboys and bassoons. All the altars are covered with purple or grey curtains. The holy vestments, during this week, are of the first-mentioned colour, except on Friday, when it is changed for black. The four accounts of our saviour’s passion, appointed as gospels for this day, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, are dramatized in the following manner:--Outside of the gilt-iron railing which encloses the presbytery, are two large pulpits of the same materials, from one of which, at the daily high mass, the sub-deacon chaunts the epistle, as the deacon does the gospel from the other. A movable platform with a desk, is placed between the pulpits on the _passion-days;_ and three priests or deacons, in _albes_--the white vestment, over which the dalmatic is worn by the latter, and the _casulla_ by the former--appear on these elevated posts, at the time when the gospel should be said. These officiating ministers are chosen among the singers in holy orders, one a bass, another a tenor, and the third a counter-tenor. The tenor chaunts the narrative without changing from the keynote, and makes a pause whenever he comes to the words of the interlocutors mentioned by the evangelist. In those passages the words of our saviour are sung by the bass in a solemn strain. The counter-tenor, in a more florid style, personates the inferior characters, such as Peter, the maid, and Pontius Pilate. The cries of the priests and the multitude are represented by the band of musicians within the choir.[85]

PALM SUNDAY CUSTOM

_in Lincolnshire_.

The following letter is from a correspondent on the spot where the custom is still preserved.

_To the Editor of the Every-Day Book._

Sir,--There is a singular ceremony at Caistor church, Lincolnshire, every Palm Sunday, which you may think worth describing from this account of it.

A deputy from Broughton brings a very large ox-whip, called here a gad-whip. _Gad_ is an old Lincolnshire measure of ten feet; the stock of the gad-whip is, perhaps, of the same length. The whip itself is constructed as follows. A large piece of ash, or any other wood, tapered towards the top, forms the stock; it is wrapt with white leather half way down, and some small pieces of mountain ash are enclosed. The thong is very large, and made of strong white leather. The man comes to the north porch, about the commencement of the first lesson, and cracks his whip in front of the porch door three times; he then, with much ceremony, wraps the thong round the stock of the whip, puts some rods of mountain ash lengthwise upon it, and binds the whole together with whip-cord. He next ties to the top of the whip-stock a purse containing two shillings, (formerly this sum was in twenty-four silver pennies,) then taking the whole upon his shoulder, he marches into the church, where he stands in front of the reading desk till the commencement of the second lesson: he then goes up nearer, waves the purse over the head of the clergyman, kneels down on a cushion, and continues in that position, with the purse suspended over the clergyman’s head, till the lesson is ended. After the service is concluded, he carries the whip, &c. to the manor-house of Undon, a hamlet adjoining, where he leaves it. There is a new whip made every year; it is made at Broughton, and left at Undon.

Certain lands in the parish of Broughton are held by the tenure of this annual custom, which is maintained to the present time.

I am, Sir, &c.

G. P. J.

* * * * *

On the 19th of March, 1755, three women in the village of Bergemoletto, near Piedmont, were buried for thirty-seven days in the ruins of a stable, by a heavy fall of snow. They survived their confinement, and the facts relating to it were published by Ignazio Somis, professor in the university of Turin. With the case of these poor creatures, that, related at p. 176, of our Elizabeth Woodcock, who remained so imprisoned eight days, is scarcely to be compared. Her sufferings highly interest the feelings; a narration of theirs would too deeply wound them.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 41·25

[84] Rome in the Nineteenth Century.

[85] Doblado’s Letters from Spain.

~March 20.~

LAMB SEASON.

_An Anecdote._

It is related in the Scottish newspapers that about the year 1770, a Selkirkshire farmer, a great original in his way, and remarkable for his fondness of a “big price” for every thing, attended at Langholm fair, and, notwithstanding his parsimonious habits, actually sold his lambs to a perfect stranger upon his simply promising to pay him punctually at the next market. On his return home, the farmer’s servants, who regularly messed at the same table, and seldom honoured him with the name of master, inquired “Weel, Sandy, hae ye sell’t the lambs?” “Atweel hae I, and I gat saxpence mair a-head for them than ony body in the market.” “And a’ weel paid siller?” “Na, the siller’s no paid yet, but its sure eneuch.” “Wha’s your merchant, and, and what’s your security?” “Troth I never spiered, but he’s a decent lookin’ man wi tap boots, and a bottle-green coat.” The servants, at this, laughed outright, and tauntingly told him he would never get a farthing. Sandy, however, thought differently, and having accidentally hurt his leg so as to prevent him from travelling, he sent a shepherd to Langholm, with instructions to look for a man with a bottle-green coat, whom he was sure he said, to find standing near a certain sign. The shepherd did as he was bid, and, strange to say, discovered a person standing at the identical spot, who, on learning his errand, inquired kindly for his master, and paid the money to the uttermost farthing. Sandy, who piqued himself on his skill in physiognomy, heard the news without emotion, and merely said, “I wad at any time trust mair to looks than words, and whan I saw Colly smeiling about hun sae kindly, I ken’t weel eneuch he couldna be a scoundrel.” This result differs from one which might have been expected. Sandy believed in a “second sight,” which, in these times, a knowledge of the arts of life disqualify most persons for indulging on such an occasion.

* * * * *

In an early edition of vol. i. p. 374, the death of sir Isaac Newton is stated to have happened on this day in the year 1727; and it is added, that he was born on the 25th of December 1742, instead of the proper year 1642.

* * * * *

On the same page the death of the celebrated earl Mansfield, is mentioned to have taken place on the same day in the year 1793. He was aged eighty-nine, and his autograph is now added for the gratification of those who desire to be acquainted with the hand-writing of distinguished persons.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 42·81.

~March 21.~

_Benedict._

Concerning this saint in our almanacs, see vol. i. p. 380.

A SURPRISING CALCULATION.

_For the Every-Day Book._

In the summer of 1825, a meeting was held at Tunbridge in Kent, by some gentlemen interested in the formation of a rail road, in that neighbourhood; at which was a present a young gentleman well known for astonishing celerity in resolving difficult calculations by the aid of memory alone. One of the company, a great snuff-taker, and good mathematician, proposed the following, (as he thought,) puzzling question;

“If I take so many (a given quantity) of pinches of snuff every quarter of an hour, how many pinches shall I have taken in fifteen years?”

The young gentleman in little more than a minute gave his answer.

The snuff-taker called for pen, ink, and paper, to examine the answer, when after a considerable time he declared it erroneous; upon hearing which, the calculator asked the snuff-taker if he had allowed for the leap-years? being answered in the negative, the snuff-taker was requested to add them, when the calculator’s answer was found to be correct to a single pinch, to the no small astonishment and delight of the assembled party.

A. S.

* * * * *

The preceding anecdote is wholly new, and, after a “pinch of snuff,” the editor introduces a topic somewhat corresponding.

“TOBACCO.”

“EX FUMO dare lucem.”

_To the Editor of the Every-Day Book._

Sir,

The use of tobacco, “that stinking weed so much abused to God’s dishonour,” as Stow expresses himself, having become so common, as to be almost “naturalized on English ground;” perhaps a short article on the subject at this seasonable period, may not be unacceptable to the numerous readers of the _Every-Day Book_. Let me however be understood in the outset.

I do not mean to write a historical--nor yet critical--nor yet a poetical essay on my subject--no! I merely wish to “cull a few _leaves_” from the “fragrant herb,” and leave them for you to _burn_, or your readers to _cut up_, or _smoke_, at their good pleasure. Dropping all metaphor, the subject is worth attention, and treated with judgment, might be rendered highly interesting. Resigning all pretension however to that quality, I have merely collected a few “passages,” which, I hope, will be considered worthy of a place in your interesting miscellany.

“Commencing our commencement,” says the old French proverb, my medical dictionary, (Hooper’s) has the following under this head:--

“Tobacco. See Nicotiana.”

“Nicotiana. (From M. Nicot, who first brought it into Europe.) Tobacco.”

“1st. The name of a genus of plants in the Linnean system. Class _Pentandria_; order, _Monogynia_.”

“2nd. The former pharmacopæial name of the officinal tobacco,” &c. &c.

_Hooper’s Medical Dictionary_,
4th edit. p. 594.

In that elegant work, “Flora Domestica,” the botanical summary says, “This genus is named from Jean Nicot of Nismes, agent from the king of France to Portugal, who procured the seeds from a Dutchman, and sent them to France. Tobacco, from the island Tobago. The French have many names for it; as, le tabac: Nicotiane from its first introducer; petum [the original Indian appellation;] herbe du grand prieur; herbe à la Reine; herbe sacrìe; herbe propre à tous maux; herbe de St. Croix; &c. &c. _Italian_, tabacco; terna bona.”

_Flora Domestica_, 1823. p. 365.

Of these names, the Italian one of “terna bona,” is very singular, and as _arbitrary_ as need be, for example, what connection can there be between tobacco, and the “grand prior,” the “queen’s,” or the “holy cross?” “Propre à tous maux,” is _rather_ too comprehensive an appellation; I have copied but few of these names, many as there may appear to be.

Of all the subjects which have employed the pens of writers, perhaps no one has called forth so great a diversity of opinion as this; and we may perhaps go further, and say, that no other (save only, _love_ and _war_) has attracted so much notice since its introduction. Popes, poets, historians, kings, and physicians, have dwelt upon its use and abuse, and even historians have condescended to mention it. But to proceed.

With regard to its first introduction into England, Hume says, “chap. xli. Eliz. 1558, 1603,” at the close of the narration of Drake’s attack on the Spanish provinces in the West Indies. “It is thought that Drake’s fleet first introduced the use of tobacco into England.”

In an after part of his work “Appendix, James I. 1603-1625,” he adds,

“After supplying themselves with provisions more immediately necessary for the support of life, the new planters began the cultivating of tobacco; and James notwithstanding his antipathy to that drug, which he affirmed to be pernicious to men’s morals as well as health, gave them permission to enter it in England; and he inhibited by proclamation all importation of it from Spain.”

At this period originated the story of the wetting poor sir Walter Raleigh, received from the hands (and bucket) of his servant; this, however, is too common to deserve transferring to your pages. The following facts, however, are not so generally known. “On the first introduction of tobacco, our ancestors carried its use to an enormous excess, smoking even in the churches, which made pope Urban VIII. in 1624, publish a decree of excommunication against those who used such an unseemly practice; and Innocent XII. A. D. 1690, solemnly excommunicated all those who should take snuff or tobacco, in St. Peter’s church at Rome.” _Flora Domestica_, p. 367.

This excess is perhaps only equalled by the case of William Breedon, vicar of Thornton, Bucks, “a profound divine, but absolutely the most polite person for nativities in that age;” of whom William Lilly, “student in astrology,” says, “when he had no tobacco, (and I suppose too much drink,) he would cut the bell ropes and smoke them.”--_History of Lilly’s Life and Times_, p. 44.[86]

* * * * *

To the eulogist of tobacco, who, on column 195 of your present volume, defies “all daintie meats,” and

----“keeps his kitchen in a box,
And roast meat in a pipe,”

take as an antidote the following from Peter Hausted’s Raphael Thorius: London, 1551.

Let it be damn’d to Hell, and call’d from thence,
Proserpine’s wine, the Furies’ frankincense,
The Devil’s addle eggs.

Hawkins Brown, esq., parodying Ambrose Philips, writes thus prettily to his pipe:--

Little tube of mighty power,
Charmer of an idle hour,
Object of my warm desire;
Lip of wax, and eye of fire;
And thy snowy taper waist,
With my finger gently brac’d; &c.

In our own times the following have appeared.

“La Pipe de Tabac,” a French song to music, by Geweaux, contains the following humorous stanzas:--

“Le soldat baille sous la tente,
Le matelot sur le tillac,
Bientôt ils ont l’âme contente,
Avec la pipe de tabac;
Si pourtant survient une belle,
A l’instant le cœur fait tìc tac,
Et l’Amant oublie auprès d’elle,
Jusqu’à la pipe de tabac.

“Je tiens cette maxime utile,
De ce fameux Monsieur de Crac,
En campagne comme à la ville,
Font tous l’amour et le tabac,
Quand ce grand homme allait en guerre
Il portait dans son petit sac,
Le doux portrait de sa bergère,
Avec la pipe de tabac.”

In the accompanying English version, they are thus imitated:--

See, content, the soldier smiling
Round the vet’ran smoking crew
And the tar, the time beguiling,
Sighs and whiffs, and thinks of Sue.
Calm the bosom; naught distresses;--
Labour’s harvest’s nearly ripe;--
‘Susan’s health;’--the brim he presses,--
Here alone he quits his pipe.

Faithful still to every duty
Ne’er his faithful heart will roam;
Mines of wealth, and worlds of beauty,
Tempt him not from Susan’s home.
From his breast--wherever steering,
Oft a sudden tear to wipe,
Susan’s portrait,--sorrow cheering,
First he draws--and then his pipe!

Our immortal Byron, in his poem of “The Island,” sings thus the praises of “the Indian weed:”--

Sublime tobacco!--which from east to west
Cheers the tar’s labours, or the Turkman’s rest;
Which on the Moslem’s ottoman divides
His hours,--and rivals opium and his brides;
Magnificent in Stamboul, but less grand,
Though not less loved, in Wapping or the Strand;
Divine in hookas, glorious in a pipe
When tipped with amber, mellow, rich, and ripe;
Like other charmers, wooing the caress
More dazzlingly when daring in full dress;
Yet thy true lovers more admire by far,
Thy naked beauties---- Give me a cigar!

If, Sir, you should deem this communication worthy of your notice, I shall feel inclined to pursue my researches farther; and, whatever the result, allow me in the mean time to subscribe myself,

Your well-wisher,

FUMO.

P. S. Should you, Sir, _burn_ this, the Roman adage, which I have used as my motto, will be once more _verified_.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 43·44.

[86] “The following commendation of Lilly is inserted under a curious
frontispiece to his “Anima Astrologiæ,” 1676, containing portraits of
Cardan, Guido, and himself.

“Let Envy burst--Vrania’s glad to see
Her sons thus Ioyn’d in a Triplicity;
To Cardan and to Guido much is due,
But in one Lilly wee behold them Two.”

~March 22.~

_Passion Wednesday._

In 1826, this being the Wednesday before Easter, called _Passion Wednesday_, is celebrated with great solemnity in catholic countries. At Seville a white veil conceals the officiating priest and ministers, during mass, until the words in the service “the veil of the temple was rent in twain” are chaunted. At this moment the veil disappears, as if by enchantment, and the ears of the congregation are stunned with the noise of concealed fireworks, which are meant to imitate an earthquake.

The evening service, named _Tinieblas_, (darkness) is performed this day after sunset. The cathedral, on this occasion, exhibits the most solemn and impressive aspect. The high altar, concealed behind dark grey curtains which fall from the height of the cornices, is dimly lighted by six yellow wax candles, while the gloom of the whole temple is broken in large masses by wax torches, fixed one on each pillar of the centre aisle, about one-third of its length from the ground. An elegant candlestick of brass, from fifteen to twenty feet high, is placed, on this and the following evening, between the choir and the altar, holding thirteen candles, twelve of yellow, and one of bleached wax, distributed on the two sides of the triangle which terminates the machine. Each candle stands by a brass figure of one of the apostles. The white candle occupying the apex is allotted to the virgin Mary. At the conclusion of each of the twelve psalms appointed for the service, one of the yellow candles is extinguished, till, the white taper burning alone, it is taken down and concealed behind the altar. Immediately after the ceremony, the _Miserere_, (Psalm 50.) set, every other year, to a new strain of music, is sung in a grand style. This performance lasts exactly an hour. At the conclusion of the last verse the clergy break up abruptly without the usual blessing, making a thundering noise by clapping their movable seats against the frame of the stalls, or knocking their ponderous breviaries against the boards, as the rubric directs.[87]

CHRONOLOGY.

On the 22d of March, 1687, Jean Baptiste Lully, the eminent musical composer, died at Paris. He was born of obscure parents at Florence, in 1634, and evincing a taste for music, a benevolent cordelier, influenced by no other consideration than the hope of his becoming eminent in the science, undertook to teach him the guitar. While under his tuition, a French gentleman, the chevalier Guise, arrived at Florence, commissioned by Mlle. de Montpensier, niece to Louis XIV., to bring her some pretty little Italian boy as a page. The countenance of Lully did not answer to the instructions, but his vivacity, wit, and skill on an instrument, as much the favourite of the French as of the Italians, determined the chevalier to send him to Paris. On his arrival, he was presented to the lady; but his figure obtained for him so cool a reception, that she commanded him to be entered in her household books as an under-scullion. Lully was at this time ten years old. In the moments of his leisure from the kitchen, he used to scrape upon a wretched fiddle. He was overheard by a person about the court, who informed the princess he had an excellent taste for music, and a master was employed to teach him the violin, under whom in the course of a few months, he became so great a proficient, that he was elevated to the rank of court-musician. In consequence of an unlucky accident he was dismissed from this situation; but, obtaining admission into the king’s band of violins, he applied himself so closely to study, that in a little time he began to compose. His airs were noticed by the king, Lully was sent for, and his performance of them was thought so excellent, that a new band was formed, called _les petits violons_, and under his direction it surpassed the band of twenty-four, till that time celebrated throughout Europe. This was about the year 1660, when the favourite entertainments at the French court were dramatic representations, consisting of dancing intermixed with singing and speaking in recitative; they were called _ballets_, and to many of them Lully was employed in composing the music.

In 1669, an opera in the French language, on the model of that at Venice, being established at Paris, Lully obtained the situation of composer and joint director, left his former band, instituted one of his own, and formed the design of building a new theatre near the Luxemburg palace, which he accomplished, and opened in November, 1670.

Previous to this, Lully, having been appointed surperintendent to the king’s private music, had neglected the practice of the violin; yet, whenever he could be prevailed with to play, his excellence astonished all who heard him.

In 1686, the king recovering from an indisposition that threatened his life, Lully composed a “_Te Deum_,” which was not more remarkable for its excellence, than the unhappy accident with which its performance was attended. In the preparations for the execution of it, and the more to demonstrate his zeal, he himself beat the time. With the cane that he used for this purpose, he struck his foot, which caused so much inflammation, that his physician advised him to have his little toe taken off; and, after a delay of some days, his foot; and at length the whole limb. At this juncture, an empiric offered to perform a cure without amputation. Two thousand pistoles were promised him if he should accomplish it, but his efforts were vain; and Lully died.

Lully’s confessor in his last illness required as a testimony of his sincere repentance, and as the condition of his absolution, that he should throw the last of his operas into the fire. After some excuses, Lully acquiesced, and pointing to a drawer in which the rough draft of “_Achilles and Polixenes_” was deposited, it was taken out and burnt, and the confessor went away satisfied. Lully grew better and was thought out of danger, when one of the young princes came to visit him: “What, Baptiste,” says he to him, “have you thrown your opera into the fire? You were a fool for thus giving credit to a gloomy Jansenist, and burning good music.” “Hush! hush! my lord,” answered Lully, in a whisper, “I knew very well what I was about, I have another copy of it!” This pleasantry was followed by a relapse; and the prospect of inevitable death threw him into such pangs of remorse, that he submitted to be laid on ashes with a cord round his neck; and, in this situation, he chaunted a deep sense of his late trangression.

Lully contributed greatly to the improvement of French music. In his overtures he introduced fugues, and was the first who, in the choruses, made use of the side and kettle drums. It is difficult to characterize his style, which seems to have been derived from no other source than his own invention.

His compositions were chiefly operas and other dramatic entertainments, adapted to the desires of Louis XIV., who was fond of dancing, and had not taste for any music but airs, in the composition of which a stated number of bars was the chief rule to be observed. Of harmony or fine melody, or of the relation between poetry and music, he seems to have had no conception; and these were restraints upon Lully’s talents.

He is said to have been the inventor of that species of composition, the overture; for, though the symphonies or preludes of Carissimi, Colonna, and others, are, in effect, overtures, yet they were compositions of a mild and placid kind, while Lully’s are animated and full of energy.[88]

* * * * *

Notwithstanding the character of Lully’s compositions, when unrestricted by the royal command and the bad taste of the court, he was one day reproached with having set nothing to music but languid verses. He flew to his harpsichord, and wildly running over the keys, sung, with great violence of gesture, the following terrific lines from Racine’s tragedy of “Iphigenie:”

“Un prêtre environne d’une foule cruelle
Portera sur ma fille, une maine criminelle
Dechirera son sein, et d’un œil curieux
Dans son cœur palpitant consultera les Dieux.”

When cardinal d’Estrees was at Rome, he highly praised Corelli’s sonatas to that eminent composer. “Sir,” replied Corelli, “if they have any merit it is because I have studied Lully.” Handel has imitated Lully in many of his overtures.[89]

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 42·79.

[87] Doblado’s Letters from Spain.

[88] Biograph. Dictionary of Musicians.

[89] Seward.

~March 23.~

MAUNDY THURSDAY.

_Shere Thursday._

These denominations have been sufficiently explained in vol. i. p. 400, with an account of the _Maundy_ at the chapel royal St. James’s. The Romish church this day institutes certain ceremonies to commemorate the washing of the disciples’ feet.

_Celebration of the day at Seville._

The particulars of these solemnities are recorded by the rev. Blanco White.

The ceremonies of the high mass, are especially intended as a remembrance of the last supper, and the service, as it proceeds, rapidly assumes the deepest hues of melancholy. The bells, in every steeple, from one loud and joyous peal, cease at once, and leave a peculiar heavy stillness, which none can conceive but those who have lived in a populous Spanish town long enough to lose the sense of that perpetual tinkling which agitates the ear during the day and great part of the night.

In every church a “host,” consecrated at the mass, is carried with great solemnity to a temporary structure, called the _monument_, which is erected with more or less splendour, according to the wealth of the establishment. It is there deposited in a silver urn, generally shaped like a sepulchre, the key of which, hanging from a gold chain, is committed by the priest to the care of a chief inhabitant of the parish, who wears it round his neck as a badge of honour, till the next morning. The key of the cathedral monument is intrusted to the archbishop, if present, or to the dean in his absence.

The striking effect of the last-mentioned structure, the “monument” in the cathedral, is not easily conceived. It fills up the space between four arches of the nave, rising in five bodies to the roof of the temple. The columns of the two lower tiers, which, like the rest of the monument, imitate white marble filletted with gold, are hollow, allowing the numerous attendants who take care of the lights that cover it from the ground to the very top, to do their duty during four-and-twenty hours, without any disturbance or unseemly bustle. More than three thousand pounds of wax, besides one hundred and sixty silver lamps, are employed in the illumination.