Chapter XXIV: Preface (23)

Over a door in the consistory of the Hôtel de Ville at Toulouse, is a small marble figure of Clemence Isaure. In this consistory, the meetings were held for distributing the prizes in the floral games; the figure had flowers in her hand, but they are broken off. Below it on a tablet of brass, is a Latin inscription, in Roman capitals, but with so many abbreviations, and some of these of a nature so unintelligible, that the meaning is scarcely to be deciphered. This much, however, is to be collected from it, that Clemence Isaure is represented to have been the daughter of L. Isaurus, of the ancient and illustrious family of the Isauræ of Toulouse; that the institution of the “floral games” is ascribed to her; that she is said to have built the Hôtel de Ville at her own expense; to have bequeathed to the city the markets for corn, wine, fish, and vegetables; and to have left the remainder of her property in perpetuity to the city for the support of the floral games; yet, it does not mention her age, or at what period she lived, or whether she was maiden, wife, or widow.

“_Le Roman de Clemence Isaure_,” an old ballad story, represents her to have been a fair lady of Toulouse, with whom the handsome Lautrec was deeply enamoured, and that she returned his love with equal passion. Alphonso, her father, having chosen another husband for Clemence, she resisted the union, declaring that her life was at his disposal, but that as long as she should live, her heart must be wholly Lautrec’s. Then Alphonso caused her to be chained, and shut her up in a strong tower, and threatened Lautrec’s life if he could get him into his power; and Lautrec, having found the place of his mistress’s imprisonment, like a true lover despised her cruel father’s threats, and went to the tower and repeated his vows and sorrows to the fair Clemence, who came to the grate and told him of his danger, and prayed him to enter into the service of the French king, and follow military glory, and chase the recollection of their loves and their misfortunes; and as a pledge, she presented him with three flowers, a violet, an eglantine, and a marigold. The first she gave him as her colour, that he might appear as her knight; the second was her favourite flower; and the third an emblem of the chagrin and sorrow by which her heart was consumed. Then Clemence kissed the flowers, and let her tears fall on them, and threw them to her lover, and her father appeared, and Lautrec gathered up the flowers, and hastily withdrew. In obedience to the injunctions of his mistress, he departed from Toulouse for the French king’s court; but before he had proceeded far on his journey, he heard that the English were marching against the city; and he returned when the inhabitants were flying before the enemy, and abandoning the ramparts, and leaving them defenceless: and only one old man resisted and valiantly maintained his ground. Then Lautrec fled to his assistance, and discovered him to be Alphonso, the father of Clemence: and at the moment when a fatal stroke was aimed at the old man, he rushed forward and received the mortal wound himself, and died in Alphonso’s arms, and gave him the flowers he received from Clemence, and conjured him to deliver them to his daughter, and to console her under the distress his fate would bring upon her. And Alphonso relented, and in great sorrow carried the flowers to Clemence, and related the untimely death of Lautrec; and her afflictions were too heavy for her to bear, and she fell a victim to despair and anguish, and followed her lover to the grave. But in remembrance of their sad story, she bequeathed her whole property to the city of Toulouse for the celebration of annual games, at which, prizes of golden flowers, like those she had given to Lautrec, were to be distributed to the skilful troubadours who should compose the best poem, upon the occasion. This is the history of the gallant Lautrec and the fair Clemence, in the poetical romance.

But according to Pierre Caseneuve, the author of an “Inquiry into the Origin of the Floral Games at Toulouse,” there is strong reason to doubt whether such a person as Clemence ever existed. Among the archives of the Hôtel de Ville are several chronicles of the floral games, the oldest of which states, that in the year 1324, seven of the principal inhabitants of Toulouse, desirous to promote the fame and prosperity of the city, resolved to establish an annual festival there, for the cultivation of the Provençal poetry, a spirit of piety, and suavity of manners. They therefore proposed that all persons skilled in Provençal poetry, should be invited to assemble at Toulouse every year in the beginning of May, to recite their compositions, and that a violet of gold should be given to him whose verses the judges should determine the most worthy; and a circular letter in the Provençal poetry was dispersed over the province of Languedoc, inviting competitors to assemble in the beginning of May the following year, to celebrate this festival.

The poetical compositions were not to be confined to the lays of lovers reciting their passion, and the fame of their mistresses; but the honour of God, and glorifying his name, was to be their first object. It was wished that poetry should conduce to the happiness of mankind, and by furnishing them a source of innocent and laudable amusement, make time pass pleasantly, repress the unjust sallies of anger, and dissipate the dark vapours of sadness. For these reasons it was termed, by the institutors, the “Gay Science.”

In consequence of this invitation, a large concourse of competitors resorted to Toulouse; and in May, 1325, the first festival of the floral games was celebrated. Verses were recited by the candidates before a numerous assembly. The seven persons with whom the meeting originated, presided under the title of the chancellor of the “Gay Science,” and his six assessors, and there also sat with them, the capitouls or chief magistrates of the town as judges; and there was a great assemblage of knights, of gentlemen, and of ladies. The prize was given to the candidate whose verses were determined by the majority of the judges to be the most worthy.

The “floral games” of Toulouse continued to be celebrated in like manner, at the sole expense of the institutors, till the magistrates seeing the advantage they were of to the town, by the vast concourse of people brought thither, and considering that their continuance must be precarious while they depended upon the ability and disposition of a few individuals for their support, resolved to convert the institution into a public concern; and, with the concurrence of the principal inhabitants, it was determined that the expense should in future be defrayed by the city, that to the original prize two others should be added, a silver eglantine, and a silver marigold; and that occasional ones might be distributed at the option of the judges to very young poets, as stimulants to them to aim at obtaining the principal prizes.

After about thirty years it was judged expedient to appoint a committee, who should draw up such a code of statutes as might include every possible case that could occur, and these statutes were laid before the judges for their approbation.

Among these decrees the principal were, that no prize could be given to a heretic, a schismatic, or an excommunicated person; that whoever was a candidate for any of the prizes, should take a solemn oath that the poetry was his own composition, without the least assistance from any other person; that no woman should be admitted to the competition, unless her talents in composing verses were so celebrated as to leave no doubt of her being capable of writing the poetry offered:--that no one who gained a prize was allowed to be a candidate again till after a lapse of three years, though he was expected in the intervening years to compose verses for the games, and recite them; and that if any or all the prizes remained undisposed of, from no verses being produced that were judged worthy of them, the prizes were to remain over to the next year, then to be given away in addition to the regular prizes of the year.

Under these and other regulations the “floral games” became celebrated throughout Europe; and within fifty years from their first institution they were the resort of all persons of distinction. In 1388, the reigning king of Arragon sent ambassadors to Charles the Sixth of France, with great pomp and solemnity, requesting that some of the poets of the “floral games” at Toulouse might be permitted to come to the court, and assist in establishing similar games there; promising that, when they had fulfilled their mission, they should receive rewards equal to their merits, and consistent with his royal munificence.

This account of the institution of the “floral games” is from the oldest registers relative to them; wherein there is no mention made of the lady Clemence Isaure till 1513, nearly two hundred years after their institution; and it is well known that the statue of the lady Clemence in the consistory, was not put up till the year 1557. In that year it had been proposed in the college of the Gay Science to erect a monument to her memory in the church of La Dorade, where she was reputed to have been buried; but this idea was afterwards changed for putting up her statue in the room where the “floral games” were held. From that time the statue was always crowned with flowers at the time of the celebration of the games, and a Latin oration pronounced in honour of her. A satirical sonnet in the Provençal language upon the idea of erecting either a monument or a statue to a lady who never had any existence in the world, is preserved in Pierre Caseneuve’s “Inquiry into the Origin of the Floral Games.”

But by whomsoever the “floral games” of Toulouse were instituted, it is remarkable, that the festival was constantly observed for more than four centuries and a half without interruption. It did not cease to be celebrated till the revolution. It was not, however, continued entirely according to the original institution, since for a considerable time the use of the Provençal language, in the poetry for the prizes, had been abandoned, and the French substituted for it. At what period this change took place does not seem to be well ascertained. The number of prizes, too, was increased to five, the principal of which was still the golden violet; but instead of one eglantine, and one marigold of silver, two of each were given. The violet was appropriated to the best ode; the others were for a piece in heroic poetry, for one in pastoral poetry, for a satirical piece, and for a sonnet, a madrigal, a song, or some other minor effusion.

Three of the deputies to the parliament had for some time presided at these games, instead of the chancellor of the Gay Science with his six assessors; and with them were associated the capitouls, or chief magistrates of the town. All the other magistrates, and the whole body of the parliament, attended in their robes of office, with the principal gentlemen of the town, and a brilliant assemblage of ladies in full dress. These were ranged round the room in seats raised like an amphitheatre, and the students of the university sat on benches in the centre. The room was ornamented with festoons of flowers and laurel, and the statue of Clemence Isaure was crowned with them. After the oration in honour of her was pronounced, the judges, having previously consulted together in private, and assigned the prizes to the pieces which they thought most worthy of them, stood up, and, naming the poem to which one was given, pronounced with an audible voice, “Let the author come forward.” The author then presented himself; when his name was declared, it was followed by a grand flourish of music. The same ceremony was repeated as each piece was announced. The whole concluded with each author publicly reading his poem.

Many of these prize poems are to be found in different collections. Several prizes were in latter times adjudged to females, without any strict investigation having been previously made into the possibility of the pieces to which they were decreed being female compositions. It was owing to having gained a silver eglantine at one of these festivals that the celebrated Fabre d’Eglantine assumed the latter part of his name. He was a Languedocian by birth, a native of Limoux, a small town about four leagues from Toulouse.[152]

* * * * *

Without such encouragements to be poetical, as were annually offered by the conductors of the “floral games” at Toulouse, our kind feelings have been cultivated, and our literature is enriched by a race of poets, whom we may venture to array against the united armies of continental bards. It may be doubted whether a May prize of Toulouse was ever awarded for sweeter verses, than Matt. Prior’s on Chloe’s May flowers.

THE GARLAND.

The pride of every grove I chose
The violet sweet and lily fair,
The dappled pink, and blushing rose,
To deck my charming Chloe’s hair.

At morn the nymph vouchsaf’d to place
Upon her brow the various wreath;
The flowers less blooming than her face,
The scent less fragrant than her breath.

The flowers she wore along the day,
And every nymph and shepherd said,
That in her hair they looked more gay
Than glowing in their native bed.

Undrest at evening, when she found
Their odour lost, their colours past,
She changed her look, and on the ground
Her garland and her eye she cast.

The eye dropt sense distinct and clear,
As any muse’s tongue could speak,
When from its lid a pearly tear
Ran trickling down her beauteous cheek.

Dissembling what I knew too well,
“My love, my life,” said I, “explain
This change of humour; pr’ythee tell:
That falling tear--what does it mean?”

She sighed; she smil’d; and, to the flowers
Pointing, the lovely moralist said,
“See, friend, in some few fleeting hours
See yonder, what a change is made!

“Ah, me! the blooming pride of May,
And that of beauty are but one,
At morn both flourish bright and gay;
Both fade at evening, pale and gone.

“At dawn poor Stella danc’d and sung;
The amorous youth around her bowed,
At night her fatal knell was rung;
I saw and kissed her in her shroud.

“Such as she is, who died to-day;
Such I, alas! may be to-morrow;
Go, Damon, bid thy muse display
The justice of thy Chloe’s sorrow.”

_Prior._

A beautiful ode by another of our poets graces the loveliness of the season, and finally “points a moral” of sovereign virtue to all who need the application, and will take it to heart.

SPRING.

Lo! where the rosy bosom’d hours,
Fair Venus’ train appear,
Disclose the long expected flowers,
And wake the purple year!
The attic warbler pours her throat,
Responsive to the cuckoo’s note,
The untaught harmony of spring:
While whispering pleasure as they fly,
Cool zephyrs through the clear blue sky
Their gathered fragrance fling.

Where’er the oak’s thick branches stretch
A broader, browner shade;
Where’er the rude and moss-grown beech
O’er-canopies the glade,
Beside some water’s rushy brink
With me the muse shall sit, and think
(At ease reclined in rustic state)
How vain the ardour of the crowd,
How low how little are the proud,
How indigent the great!

Still is the toiling hand of care;
The panting herds repose:
Yet hark, how through the peopled air
The busy murmur glows!
The insect youth are on the wing,
Eager to taste the honied spring,
And float amid the liquid noon:
Some lightly o’er the current skim,
Some slow, their gayly-gilded trim
Quick-glancing to the sun.

To Contemplation’s sober eye
Such is the race of man:
And they that creep and they that fly,
Shall end where they began.
Alike the busy and the gay
But flutter through life’s little day
In fortune’s varying colours drest.
Brushed by the hand of rough mischance;
Or chill’d by age, their airy dance
They leave in dust to rest.

Methinks I hear in accents low
The sportive kind reply;
“Poor moralist! and what art thou?
A solitary fly!
Thy joys no glittering female meets,
No hive hast thou of hoarded sweets,
No painted plumage to display:
On hasty wings thy youth is flown;
Thy sun is set, thy spring is gone--
We frolic while ’tis May.”

_Gay._

Then, too, a bard of the preceding centuries introduces “the Shepherd’s Holiday,” the day we now memorialize, with nymphs singing his own sweet verses in “floral games.”

_Nymph 1._

Thus, thus begin, the yearly rites
Are due to Pan on these bright nights,
His morn now riseth, and invites
To sports, to dances, and delights:
All envious, and profane away,
This is the shepherd’s holiday.

_Nymph 2._

Strew, strew, the glad and smiling ground,
With every flower, yet not confound
The primrose drop, the spring’s own spouse,
Bright daisies, and the lips-of-cows,
The garden-star, the queen of May,
The rose, to crown the holiday.

_Nymph 3._

Drop drop your violets, change your hues,
Now red, now pale, as lovers use,
And in your death go out as well
As when you lived unto the smell:
That from your odour all may say,
This is the shepherd’s holiday.

_Jonson._

* * * * *

It is to be observed as a remarkable fact, that among the poets, the warmest advocates and admirers of the popular sports and pastimes in village retreats, uniformly invigorate and give keeping to their pictures, by sparkling lights and harmonizing shadows of moral truth.

But hark! the bagpipe summons on the green,
The jocund bagpipe, that awaketh sport;
The blithsome lasses, as the morning sheen,
Around the flower-crown’d Maypole quick resort;
The gods of pleasure here have fix’d their court.
Quick on the wing the flying moment seize,
Nor build up ample schemes, for life is short,
Short as the whisper of the passing breeze.

GATHERING OF MAY DEW.

This engraving represents certain lads and lasses of “auld Reekie,” who are early gatherers of “May-dew,” in the act of dancing to the piper’s “skirl.” From a slight sketch accompanying the communication, Mr. George Cruikshank’s pencil depicts the “action,” which it should be observed takes place on a hill.

------------ Strathspeys and reels,
Put life and metal in their heels.

_Burns._

_To the Editor of the Every-Day Book._

_Edinburgh, April 20, 1826._

My Dear Sir,--Allow me, without preface, to acquaint you with a custom of _gathering the May-dew_ here on the first of May.

About four o’clock in the morning there is an unusual stir; a great opening of area gates, and ringing of bells, and a “gathering” of folk of all clans, arrayed in all the colours of the rainbow; and a hurrying of gay throngs of both sexes through the King’s-park to Arthur’s-seat.

In the course of half an hour the entire hill is a moving mass of all sorts and sizes. At the summit may be seen a company of bakers, and other craftsmen, dressed in kilts, dancing round a Maypole. On the more level part “next _door_,” is usually an itinerant vender of whiskey, or mountain (not May) dew, your approach to whom is always indicated by a number of “bodies” carelessly lying across your path, not dead, but drunk. In another place you may descry two parties of Irishmen, who, not content with gathering the superficial dew, have gone “deeper and deeper yet,” and fired by a liberal desire to communicate the fruits of their industry, actively pelt each other with clods.

These proceedings commence with the daybreak. The strong lights thrown upon the various groups by the rising sun, give a singularly picturesque effect to a scene, wherein the ever-varying and unceasing sounds of the bagpipes, and tabours and fifes, _et hoc genus omne_, almost stun the ear. About six o’clock, the appearance of the gentry, toiling and _pechin_ up the ascent, becomes the signal for serving men and women to march to the right-about; for they well know that they must have the house clean, and every thing in order earlier than usual on May-morning.

About eight o’clock the “fun” is all over; and by nine or ten, were it not for the drunkards who are staggering towards the “gude town,” no one would know that any thing particular had taken place.

Such, my dear sir, is the gathering of May-dew. I subjoin a sketch of a group of dancers, and

I am, &c.

P. P., Jun.

* * * * *

It is noticed in the “Morning Post” of the second of May, 1791, that the day before, “being the first of May, according to annual and superstitious custom, a number of persons went into the fields and bathed their faces with the dew on the grass, under the idea that it would render them beautiful.”

* * * * *

May-dew was held of singular virtue in former times. Pepys on a certain day in May makes this entry in his diary:--

“My wife away, down with Jane and W. Hewer to Woolwich, in order to a little ayre, and to lie there to night, and so _to gather May-dew to-morrow morning_, which Mrs. Turner hath taught her is the only thing in the world to wash her face with; and” Pepys adds, “I am contented with it.” His “reasons for contentment” seem to appear in the same line; for he says, “I (went) by water to Fox-hall, and there walked in Spring-garden;” and there he notices “a great deal of company, and the weather and garden pleasant: and it is very pleasant and cheap going thither, for a man may go to spend what he will, or nothing--all as one: but to hear the nightingale and other birds; and here a fiddler, and there a harp; and here a jew’s-trump, and here laughing, and there fine people walking, is mighty diverting,” says Mr. Pepys, while his wife is gone to lie at Woolwich, “in order to a little ayre, and to _gather May-dew_.”

GERARD’S HALL MAYPOLE.

_Basing Lane._

Whence this lane derived its name of _Basing_, Stow cannot tell. It runs out of Bread-street, and was called the Bakehouse, but, “whether meant for the king’s bakehouse, or bakers dwelling there, and baking bread to serve the market in Bread-street, where the bread was sold, I know not,” says Stow; “but sure I am, I have not read of Basing or of Gerard, the gyant, to have any thing there to doe.”

It seems that this Maypole was fabled to have been “the justing staff of Gerard, a gyant.” Stow’s particulars concerning it, and his account of Gerard’s-hall, which at this time is an inn for Bath and West of England coaches and other conveyances, are very interesting. He says, “On the south side of this (Basing) lane is one great house, of old time builded upon arched vaults, and with arched gates of stone, brought from Cane in Normandie; the same is now a common ostrey for receit of travelers, commonly and corruptly called Gerard’s-hall, of a gyant said to have dwelled there. In the high roofed hall of this house, sometime stood a large Firre-Pole, which reached to the roofe thereof, and was said to be one of the staves that Gerard the gyant used in the warres, to runne withall. There stood also a ladder of the same length, which (as they said) served to ascend to the top of the staffe. Of later yeeres this hall is altered in building, and divers roomes are made in it. Notwithstanding, the pole is removed to one corner of the hall, and the ladder hanged broken upon a wall in the yard. The hosteler of that house said to mee, the pole lacked half a foote of forty in length. I measured the compasse thereof, and found it fifteene inches. Reason of the pole could the master of the hostery give me none, but bade mee reade the Chronicles, for there he heard of it. Which answer,” says Stow, “seemed to me insufficient: for he meant the description of Britaine, for the most part drawne out of John Leyland, his commentaries (borrowed of myselfe) and placed before Reynes Wolfe’s Chronicle, as the labours of another.” It seems that this chronicle has “a chapter of gyants or monstrous men--of a man with his mouth sixteene foote wide, and so to Gerard the gyant and his staffe,” which Stow speaks of as “these fables,” and then he derives the house called Gerard’s-hall, from the owner thereof, “John Gisors, maior of London, in the yeere 1245,” and says, “The pole in the hall might bee used of old time (as then the custome was in every parish) to bee set up in the summer, a Maypole, before the principall house in the parish or streete, and to stand in the hall before the scrine, decked with hollie and ivie at the feast of Christmas. The ladder served for the decking of the Maypole, and reached to the roof of the hall.”

To this is added, that “every mans house of old time was decked with holly and ivie in the winter, especially at Christmas;” whereof, gentle reader, be pleased to take notice, and do “as they did in the old time.”

* * * * *

We think we remember something about milkmaids and their garlands in our boyish days; but even this lingering piece of professional rejoicing is gone; and instead of intellectual pleasures at courts, manly games among the gentry, the vernal appearance every where of boughs and flowers, and the harmonious accompaniment of ladies’ looks, all the idea that a Londoner now has of May-day, is the dreary gambols and tinsel-fluttering squalidness of the poor chimney-sweepers! What a personification of the times;--paper-gilded dirt, slavery, and melancholy, bustling for another penny!

Something like celebrations of May-day still loiter in more remote parts of the country, such as Cornwall, Devonshire, and Westmoreland; and it is observable, that most of the cleverest men of the time come from such quarters, or have otherwise chanced upon some kind of insulation from its more sophisticated common-places.--Should the subject come before the consideration of any persons who have not had occasion to look at it with reference to the general character of the age, they will do a great good, and perhaps help eventually to alter it, by fanning the little sparks that are left them of a brighter period. Our business is to do what we can, to remind the others of what they may do, to pay honours to the season ourselves, and to wait for that alteration in the times, which the necessity of things must produce, and which we must endeavour to influence as genially as possible in its approach.[153]

* * * * *

From Mr. Leslie’s pencil, there is a picture of May-day, “in the old time”--the “golden days of good queen Bess”--whereon a lady, whose muse delights in agreeable subjects, has written the following descriptive lines:--

ON MAY DAY.

_By Leslie._

Beautiful and radiant May,
Is not this thy festal day?
Is not this spring revelry
Held in honour, queen, of thee?
’Tis a fair: the booths are gay,
With green boughs and quaint display
Glasses, where the maiden’s eye
May her own sweet face espy;
Ribands for her braided hair,
Beads to grace her bosom fair;
From yon stand the juggler plays
With the rustic crowd’s amaze;
There the morris-dancers stand,
Glad bells ringing on each hand;
Here the Maypole rears its crest,
With the rose and hawthorn drest;
And beside are painted bands
Of strange beasts from other lands.
In the midst, like the young queen,
Flower-crowned, of the rural green,
Is a bright-cheeked girl, her eye
Blue, like April’s morning sky,
With a blush, like what the rose
To her moonlight minstrel shows;
Laughing at her love the while,--
Yet such softness in the smile,
As the sweet coquette would hide
Woman’s love by woman’s pride.
Farewell, cities! who could bear
All their smoke and all their care,
All their pomp, when wooed away
By the azure hours of May?
Give me woodbine, scented bowers
Blue wreaths of the violet flowers,
Clear sky, fresh air, sweet birds, and trees,
Sights and sounds, and scenes like these!

L. E. L.

_To the Editor of the Every-Day Book._

_Northampton, April, 1826._

Sir,--Having received much information from your _Every-Day Book_, I shall be very happy to afford any that I may be able to glean; but my means are extremely limited. I however mention a custom at Northampton on the first of May, with some hope that I am not troubling you with a “twice-told tale.”

The girls from the neighbouring villages of Kingsthorpe, &c. on the morning of May-day, come into the town with May garlands, which they exhibit from house to house, (to show, as the inhabitants say, what flowers are in season,) and usually receive a trifle from each house. The garland is composed of two hoops crossing each other vertically, and covered with flowers and streamers of various coloured ribands; these are affixed to a staff about five feet long by which it is carried, and in each of the apertures between the hoops is placed a smartly dressed doll.

The accompanying sketch will convey some idea of the garland. There are numerous streamers attached to it, of all the colours of the rainbow. Should you think this notice worth inserting, I shall feel obliged by your substituting any signature you please for my name, which, agreeable to your request to correspondents who communicate accounts of customs, &c., I subjoin.

I am, &c.

B. S. G. S.

A large brush made of a number of small whalebone sticks, fastened
into a round ball of wood, and extending in most cases to a diameter
of two feet, is thrust up the chimney by means of hollow cylinders or
tubes, fitting into one another like the joints of a fishing rod, with
a long cord running through them; it is worked up and down, as each
fresh joint is added, until it reaches the chimney pot; it is then
shortened joint by joint, and on each joint being removed, is in like
manner worked up and down in its descent; and thus you have your
chimney swept perfectly clean by this machine, which is called a
Scandiscope.

* * * * *

Some wooden tubes, a brush, and rope,
Are all you need employ;
Pray order, maids, the Scandiscope,
And not the climbing boy.

* * * * *

_Copy of a printed hand-bill, distributed before May-day, 1826._

~No May Day Sweeps.~

CAUTION.

The inhabitants of this parish are most respectfully informed, that
the UNITED SOCIETY OF MASTER CHIMNEY SWEEPERS intend giving their
apprentices a dinner, at the Eyre Arms St John’s Wood, on the first
of May, instead of suffering them to collect money as heretofore; the
public are therefore cautioned against encouraging in any way such
collections, as they are too frequently obtained by persons of the
worst descriptions, or for the sinister purposes of their employers.

N. B. The procession will start from the Bedford Arms,
Charlotte-street, Bedford-square, at eleven o’clock.

On Monday, the first of May, 1826, (pursuant to the above notice,) the first anniversary dinner of the “United Society of Master Chimney Sweepers,” took place at the Eyre tavern, St. John’s-wood, Marylebone.

About eleven o’clock, two hundred of their apprentices proceeded in great regularity through the principal streets and squares at the west end of the town, accompanied by an excellent band of music. The clean and wholesome appearance of the lads, certainly, reflected much credit on their masters, and attracted crowds of persons to the above tavern, where the boys were regaled with a substantial repast of roast beef and plum-pudding; after which the masters themselves sat down to a very excellent dinner provided for the occasion.

On the cloth being removed, and the usual routine of loyal toasts drank, the chairman addressed his brother tradesmen, congratulating them on the formation of a society that was calculated to do such essential service to the trade in general. It would be the means of promoting the welfare of their apprentices,--which was a feeling he was convinced every one of them had at heart,--who, instead of being permitted to loiter and dance about the streets on the first of May, dressed up in tawdry apparel, and soliciting money, should in future be regaled with substantial fare on each forthcoming day of the anniversary of the society, in order to put an end to the degrading practice which had for such a length of time stigmatized the trade. (Applause.)

“Success to the United Society of Chimney Sweepers,” having been drank with thunders of applause,

Mr. BENNETT, of Welbeck-street, addressed the company on the subject of cleansing chimnies with the machine, the introduction of which he was confident would never answer the intended purposes. He urged the absolute necessity of employing climbing boys in their trade; and instanced several cases in which the machines were rendered perfectly useless: most of the chimnies in the great houses at the west end of the town were constructed in such a manner that it was utterly impossible to clear them of soot, unless a human being was sent up for that purpose. He admitted that some houses had chimnies which were built perpendicular; but even in those were frequently to be met with what the trade called “cores,” which were large pieces of mortar that projected out from the brick-work, and that collected vast quantities of soot on their surface, so that no machine could get over the difficulty. When the subject of the climbing boys was before the house of lords, he (Mr. Bennett) was sent for by the earl of Hardwicke, who was desirous of personally ascertaining whether the practice of allowing boys to ascend chimnies could be dispensed with entirely. He (Mr. Bennett) had attended at his lordship’s residence with the machine, which was tried in most of the chimnies in the house, but the experiment failed; one of his apprentices having been ultimately obliged to ascend for the purpose of extricating the machine from impediments which were only to be surmounted by the activity of climbing boys. The result was, that his lordship subsequently expressed his opinion that the machines could never answer the purposes for which they were originally intended, and therefore had his chimnies swept by the old method. Mr. Bennett concluded by making some observations on the harsh manner in which the trade had been aspersed. He said it had been insinuated that their apprentices, in consequence of being permitted to ascend chimnies, were often rendered objects for the remainder of their lives. There were, he admitted, a few solitary instances of accidents happening in their trade as well as in every other. He now only wished that their opponents might have an opportunity of witnessing the healthy and cheerful state in which their apprentices were.

A master chimney-sweeper, with great vehemence of action and manner, said, “I am convinced, Mr. Chairman, that it is a thing impossible to do away with our climbing boys. For instance, look at the duke of York’s fifty-one new chimnies. Let me ask any one of you in company, is it possible a machine could be poked up any one of them? I say, no; and for this reason--that most of them run in a horizontal line, and then abruptly turn up, so that you see a machine would be of no more use than if you were to thrust up an old broomstick; and I mean to stick to it, that our opponents may as well try to put down chimney-sweepers in the old way, as the Equitable Loan Bank Company endeavoured to cut up the business of the pawnbrokers. (Applause.) When I look round the table, (said the speaker,) and see such respectable gentlemen on my right and on my left, and in front of me, who dares to say that the United Society of Master Chimney Sweepers are not as respectable a body of tradesmen as any in London? and although, if I may be excused the expression, there is not a gentleman now present that has not made his way in the ‘profession,’ by climbing up chimnies. (There was a universal nod of assent at this allusion.) Therefore, continued the speaker, the more praise is due to us, and I now conclude by wishing every success to our new society.” The above animated address was received with the loudest plaudits.

Several other master chimney-sweepers addressed the company, after which the ladies were introduced into the room, and dancing commenced, which was kept up to a late hour.[154]

* * * * *

On the first of May, 1807, the slave trade in the West Indies was proscribed by the British parliament, and we see by the proceedings at the Eyre tavern, St. John’s-wood, that on the first of May, 1826, an effort was made to continue the more cruel black slavery of white infants. Some remarks reported to have been made by these gentlemen in behalf of their “black art,” require a word or two.

We are told that after the usual routine of loyal toasts, the chairman congratulated his “brother tradesmen” on the formation of a society that was calculated to do “essential service to _the trade_ in general.” There can be no doubt that “the king” was the first name on their list of toasts, yet it happens that his majesty is at the head of an association for _abolishing_ their “trade.” The first names on the roll of “The Society for suspending Climbing Boys by the use of the Scandiscope,” are those of the “patron,” and the president, vice-presidents, committee, and treasurer. These are chiefly prelates, peers, and members of the house of commons; but the “patron” of the society is “the king,” in opposition to whom, in the capacity of “patron,” Mr. Bennett, the master-sweep, of Welbeck-street, urges the “absolute necessity” of employing climbing boys. One of his reasons is, that in some chimnies the bricklayers have “cores” of mortar whereon the soot accumulates so that no machine can get over the difficulty; but this only shows the “absolute necessity” of causing the “cores” to be removed from chimnies already so deformed, and of making surveyors of future houses responsible for the expenses of alteration, if they suffer them to be so improperly constructed. Mr. Bennett says, that lord Hardwicke was convinced “the machines could never answer the purposes for which they were originally intended, and therefore had his chimnies swept by the old method.” If his lordship _did_ express that opinion, it is in opposition to the opinion of the king, as “patron,” the late bishop of Durham, the present bishop of Oxford, the duke of Bedford, the lords Grosvenor, Morley, Harrowby, Gwydir, Auckland, and other distinguished individuals, who as president and vice-presidents of the society, had better opportunities of determining correctly, than Mr. Bennett probably afforded to earl Hardwicke.

Another “master chimney-sweeper” is reported to have said, “look at the duke of York’s fifty-one new chimnies:--most of them run in a horizontal line, and then abruptly turn up, so that, you see, a machine would be of no more use than if you were to thrust up an old broomstick:” and then he asks, “who dares to say that the United Society of Master Chimney Sweepers are not as respectable a body of tradesmen as any in London?” and triumphantly adds, that “there is not a gentleman now present that has not made his way in the _profession_ by climbing up chimnies.” To this “there was a universal nod of assent.” But a universal admission by all “the gentlemen present” that they had climbed to respectability by climbing up chimnies, is of very little weight with those who observe and know that willing slaves become the greatest and most effective oppressors; and as to the duke of York’s new chimnies, it is not credible his royal highness can be informed that the present construction of his chimnies necessarily dooms unborn infants to the certain fate of having the flesh torn from their joints before they can sweep such chimnies. The scandalous default of a surveyor has subjected the duke of York to the odium of being quoted as an authority in opposition to a society for abolishing a cruel and useless trade, wherein servitude is misery, and independence cannot be attained but by the continual infliction of blows and torture on helpless children. Yet as an act of parliament abated the frequency of conflagrations, by empowering district surveyors to cause the erection of party walls, so a few clauses added to the building act would authorize the surveyors to enforce the building of future chimnies without “cores,” and of a form to be swept by the “Scandiscope.” Master chimney-sweepers would have no reason to complain of such enactment, inasmuch as they would continue to find employment, till the old chimnies and the prejudices in favour of cruelty to children, disappeared by effluxion of time.

* * * * *

The engraving at the head of this article is altered from a lithographic print representing a “Scandiscope.” Perhaps the machine may be better understood from the annexed diagram. It simply consists of a whalebone brush, and wooden cylinders strung on rope, and put into action by the method described beneath the larger engraving.

Mr. George Smart obtained two gold medals from the Society of Arts for this invention. The names of the machine chimney-sweepers in different parts of London may be obtained from Mr. Wilt, secretary of the “Society for superseding Climbing Boys,” No. 125, Leadenhall-street; the treasurer of the institution is W. Tooke, esq., F. R. S. Any person may become a member, and acquaint himself with the easy methods by which the machine is adopted to almost any chimney. As the climbing chimney-sweepers are combining to oppose it, all humane individuals will feel it a duty to inquire whether they should continue willing instruments in the hands of the “profession” for the extension of the present cruel practice.

* * * * *

The late Mrs. Montagu gave an annual dinner to the poor climbing boys which ceased with her death.

And is all pity for the poor sweeps fled,
Since Montagu is numbered with the dead?
She who did once the many sorrows weep,
That met the wanderings of the woe-worn sweep!
Who, once a year, bade all his griefs depart,
On May’s sweet morn would doubly cheer his heart!
Washed was his little form, his shirt was clean,
On that _one_ day his real face was seen,
His shoeless feet, _now_ boasted pumps--and new.
The brush and shovel gaily held to view!
The table spread, his every sense was charmed,
And every savoury smell his bosom warmed;
His light heart joyed to see such goodly cheer,
And much he longed to taste the mantling beer:
His hunger o’er--the scene was little heaven--
If riches thus can bless, what blessings might be given!
But, she is gone! none left to soothe their grief,
Or, once a year, bestow their meed of beef!
Now forth he’s dragged to join the beggar’s dance;
With heavy heart, he makes a slow advance,
Loudly to clamour for that tyrant’s good,
Who gives with scanty hand his daily food!

It is the _interest_ of the “United Society of Master Chimney Sweepers” to appear liberal to the wretched beings who are the creatures of their mercy; of the variation and degrees of that mercy, there is evidence before the committee of the house of commons. Sympathy for the oppressed in the breast of their oppressors is reasonably to be suspected. On the minutes of the “Society for superseding Climbing Boys,” there are cases that make humanity shudder; against their recurrence there is no security but the general adoption of machines in chimnies--instead of children.

* * * * *

Mr. Montgomery’s “Chimney Sweeper’s Friend, and Climbing Boys’ Album,” is a volume of affecting appeal, dedicated to the king, “in honour of his majesty’s condescending and exemplary concern for the effectual deliverance of the meanest, the poorest, and weakest of British born subjects, from unnatural, unnecessary, and unjustifiable personal slavery and moral degradation.” It contains a variety of beautiful compositions in prose and verse: one of them is--

THE CHIMNEY SWEEPER.

_Communicated by_ Mr. Charles Lamb, _from a very rare and curious little work_, Mr. Blake’s “Songs of Innocence.”

When my mother died I was very young,
And my father sold me, while yet my tongue
Could scarcely cry, “Weep! weep! weep!”
So your chimnies I sweep, and in soot I sleep.

There’s little Tom Toddy, who cried when his head,
That was curl’d like a lamb’s back, was shaved, so I said,
“Hush, Tom, never mind it for when your head’s bare,
You know that the soot cannot spoil your white hair.”

And so he was quiet, and that very night
As Tom was a sleeping, he had such a sight,
That thousands of sweepers, Dick, Joe, Ned, and Jack,
Were all of them locked up in coffins so black.

And by came an angel, who had a bright key,
And he opened the coffins, and set them all free;
Then down a green plain, leaping, laughing, they run,
And wash in a river, and shine in the sun,

Then naked and white, all their bags left behind,
They rise upon clouds, and sport in the wind;
And the angel told Tom, if he’d be a good boy
He’d have God for his father, and never want joy.

And so Tom awoke, and we rose in the dark,
And got with our bags and our brushes to work;
Though the morning was cold, Tom was happy and warm,
So if all do their duty they need not fear harm.

_Dining with Duke Humphrey_,

MAY DAY HONOURS TO HIM.

In old St. Paul’s cathedral “within a proper chappel purposely made for him,” and in a proper tomb, sir John Beauchamp, constable of Dover, and warden of the cinque ports, was buried in the year 1358. “This deceased nobleman,” says Stow, “by ignorant people hath been erroneously mistermed and said to be duke Humfrey, the good duke of Gloucester, who lyeth honourably buried at Saint Albans in Hartfordshire, twenty miles from London; in idle and frivolous opinion of whom, some men, of late times, have made a solemne meeting at his tombe upon Saint Andrewe’s day in the morning (before Christmasse) and concluded on a breakfast or dinner, as assuring themselves to be servants, and to hold diversity of offices under the good duke Humfrey.”

Stow’s continuator says, “Likewise, on _May-day_, tankard bearers, watermen, and some other of like quality beside, would use to come to the same tombe early in the morning, and, according as the other, deliver serviceable presentation at the same monument, by strewing herbes, and sprinkling faire water on it, as in the duty of servants, and according to their degrees and charges in office: but (as Master Stow hath discreetly advised such as are so merrily disposed, or simply profess themselves to serve duke Humfrey in Pauls) if punishment of _losing their dinners_ daily, there, be not sufficient for them, they should be sent to St. Albans, to answer there for their disobedience, and long absence from their so highly well deserving lord and master, as in their merry disposition they please so to call him.”

There can be no doubt that this mock solemnity on May-day, and the feast of St. Andrew, on pretence of attending a festival in Paul’s, on the invitation of a dead nobleman in another place, gave rise to the saying concerning “dining with duke Humfrey.” It is still used respecting persons who inquire “where shall I dine?” or who have lost, or are afraid of “losing their dinners.”

PRINTERS’ MAY FESTIVAL.

The following particulars of a very curious celebration is remarkable, as being a description of the old mode of festivous enjoyment, “according to order,” and the wearing of garlands by the stewards, with “whifflers” in the procession.[155] It is extracted from Randle Holme’s “Storehouse of Armory, 1688.”

_Stationers’ Hall May Feast._

The Printers, Journeymen, with the Founders and Ink-makers have every year a general Feast, which is kept in the Stationers Hall on or about May Day. It is made by 4 Stewards, 2 Masters, and 2 Journeymen; and with the Collection of half a Crown a piece of every Guest, the charges of the whole Feast is defrayed.

About 10 of the Clock in the Morning on the Feast day, the Company invited meet at the place appointed, and from thence go to some Church thereabouts in this following Order. First, 4 Whifflers (as Servitures) by two and two, walking before with white Staves in their Hands, and red and blew Ribbons hung Belt-wise upon their Shoulders: these make way for the Company.

Then walks the Beadle of the Company of Stationers, with the Companies Staff in his Hand, and Ribbons as afore.

Then the Minister, whom the Stewards have engaged to Preach the Sermon, and his Reader or Clerk.

Then the Stewards walk, by two and two, with long white wands in their Hands, and all the rest of the Company follow in like order, till they enter the Church, &c. Service ended, and a Sermon suitable for the occasion finished, they all return to their Hall in the same order, where upon their entrance each Guest delivers his Ticket to a Person appointed, which gives him admittance; where every one Feasts himself with what he likes best, being delighted all the while with Musicks and Songs, &c.

After Dinner the Ceremony of Electing new Stewards for the next Year begins: then the Stewards withdraw into another Room, and put Garlands of Laurel or Box on their Heads, and white wands in their Hands, and are Ushered out of the withdrawing Room thus;--

First, the Companies Beadle with his Staff in his Hand, and Musick sounding before him;

Then one of the Whifflers with a great Bowl of White wine and Sugar in his right Hand, and his Staff in the left: after him follows the eldest Steward.

Then another Whiffler as aforesaid, before the second Steward; in like manner another Whiffler before the third; and another before the fourth Steward.

And thus they walk, with Musick sounding before them, three times round the Hall; and, in the fourth round, the first Steward takes the Bowl from his Whiffler, and Drinks to one (whom before he resolved on) by the Title of _Mr. Steward Elect_; and taking the Garland off his own Head, puts it on the Steward Elect’s Head, at which all the Company clap their Hands in token of Joy.

Then the present Steward takes out the Steward elect, and Walks with him, hand in hand, (giving him the right Hand,) behind the three other Stewards, another round the Hall; and in the next round as aforesaid, the second Steward drinks to another with the same Ceremony as the first did; and so the third, and so the fourth. And then all walk one round more, hand in hand, about the Hall, that the Company may take Notice of the Stewards Elect: and so ends the Ceremony of the Day.

OF THE CITY WALL.]

This is a front view of a watch tower, or one of the barbicans, on the city wall, which was discovered near Ludgate-hill on the first of May, 1792. Below is a section of Ludgate-hill from a plan of London by Hollar, wherein this tower is described.

They are both represented in an engraving published by the late Mr. Nathaniel Smith, of Great May’s buildings, from whence the preceding views are copied for the purpose of more especially marking the discovery of the old tower on this festival day.

~Opera Arm Chairs.~

A rare tract, connected with the history of the opera in England, records a _jeu d’esprit_, which, together with the tract, are attributed to the author of the “Pursuits of Literature:” it will be seen to relate to the present day from the following extracts from the pamphlet.

THE EDITOR

TO

THE READER.

_May 5, 1800._

Piu non si turbi all’ anima
La sua tranquillità:
_Pensiamo solo a ridere;_
SARA QUEL CHE SARA’.

Aria; Gli Zingari in Fiera. A. 2.

* * * * *

The following poetical Composition appeared in the Morning Herald of May 1, 1800; and it is reprinted at the very particular request of several persons, votaries of the Opera, Fashion, Wit, and Poetry, who were desirous that it should be preserved in a less perishable form than that of a Newspaper.