Chapter XLIII: Part I: 5th May to 13th 8 (5)

The lords were conducted to separate apartments in a house facing the scaffold, and their friends admitted to see them. The rev. Mr. Hume, a near relative of the earl of Hume, with the rev. Mr. Foster, an amiable dissenting minister, who never recovered the dismal effect of the scene, assisted the earl of Kilmarnock; the chaplain of the tower, and another clergyman of the church of England accompanied lord Balmerino, who on entering the house, hearing several of the spectators ask, “which is lord Balmerino?” answered with a smile, “I am lord Balmerino, gentlemen, at your service.” Earl Kilmarnock spent an hour with Mr. Foster in devotional exercises, and afterwards had a conference with lord Balmerino, who on their taking leave said, “My dear lord Kilmarnock, I am only sorry that I cannot pay this reckoning alone: once more farewell for ever!”

As lord Kilmarnock proceeded to the scaffold attended by his friends, the multitude showed the deepest signs of pity and commiseration. Struck by the sympathy of the immense assemblage, and the variety of dreadful objects on the stage of death, his coffin, the heading-block, the axe, and the executioners, he turned to Mr. Hume and said, “Hume! this is terrible,” but his countenance and voice were unchanged. The black baize over the rails of the scaffold was removed, that the people might see all the circumstances of the execution, and a single stroke from the headsman, separated him from the world.

Lord Balmerino in the mean time having solemnly recommended himself to the Supreme Mercy, conversed cheerfully with his friends, took wine, and desired them to drink to him “ane degree ta haiven.” The sheriff entered to inform him that all was ready, but was prevented by the lordship inquiring if the affair was over with lord Kilmarnock. “It is,” said the sheriff. He then inquired, and being informed, how the executioner performed his office, observed, “It was well done;” turning himself to the company, he said, “Gentlemen I shall detain you no longer,” and saluted them with unaffected cheerfulness. He mounted the scaffold with so easy an air, as to astonish the spectators. No circumstance in his whole deportment showed the least fear or regret, and he frequently reproved his friends for discovering either, upon his account. He walked several times round the scaffold, bowed to the people, went to his coffin, read the inscription, and with a nod, said “it is right;” he then examined the block, which he called his “pillow of rest.” Putting on his spectacles, and taking a paper out of his pocket, he read it with an audible voice, and then delivering it to the sheriff, called for the executioner, who appearing, and being about to ask his lordship’s pardon, he interrupted him with “Friend, you need not ask my forgiveness, the execution of your duty is commendable,” and gave him three guineas, saying, “Friend, I never was rich, this is all the money I have now, and I am sorry I can add nothing to it but my coat and waistcoat,” which he then took off, together with his neckcloth, and threw them on his coffin. Putting on a flannel waistcoat, provided for the purpose, and taking a plaid cap out of his pocket, he put it on his head, saying he died “a Scotchman.” He knelt down at the block, to adjust his posture, and show the executioner the signal for the stroke. Once more turning to his friends, and looking round on the crowd, he said, “Perhaps some may think my behaviour too bold, but remember, sir, (said he to a gentleman who stood near him,) that I now declare it is the effect of confidence in God, and a good conscience, and I should dissemble if I should show any signs of fear.”

Observing the axe in the executioner’s hand as he passed him, he took it from, him, felt the edge, and returning it, clapped the executioner on the shoulder to encourage him. He then tucked down the collar of his shirt and waistcoat, and showed him where to strike, desiring him to do it resolutely, for “in that,” said his lordship, “will consist your kindness.”

Passing to the side of the stage, he called up the wardour, to whom he gave some money, asked which was his hearse, and ordered the man to drive near.

Immediately, without trembling or changing countenance, he knelt down at the block, and with his arms stretched out, said, “O Lord, reward my friends, forgive my enemies, and receive my soul,” he gave the signal by letting them fall. His firmness and intrepidity, and the unexpected suddenness of the signal, so surprised the executioner, that the blow was not given with strength enough to wound him very deep; another blow immediately given rendered him insensible, and a third completed the work of death.

* * * * *

Lord Balmerino had but a small estate. His lady came to London, and frequently attended him during his confinement in the Tower. She was at dinner with him when the warrant came for his execution the Monday following. Being very much shocked, he desired her not to be concerned. “If the king had given me mercy,” he said, “I should have been glad of it; but since it is otherwise, I am very easy, for it is what I have expected, and therefore it does not at all surprise me.” She was disconsolate, and rose immediately from table; on which he started from his chair, and said, “Pray, my lady, sit down, for it shall not spoil my dinner.”[298]

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 64·17.

[298] Gentleman’s Magazine.

~August 19.~

EARWIGS.

It is noted in the “Historical Chronicle” of the “Gentleman’s Magazine,” on the nineteenth of August, 1755, under the head, “Stroud,” that at that time there were such quantities of _earwigs_ in that vicinity that they distroyed not only the flowers and fruits, but the cabbages, were they ever so large. The houses, especially the old wooden buildings, were swarming with them. The cracks and crevices were surprisingly full, they dropped out in such multitudes that the floors were covered; the linen, of which they are very fond, were likewise full, as was also the furniture, and it was with caution that people eat their provisions, for the cupboards and safes were plentifully stocked with the disagreeable intruders.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 62·72.

~August 20.~

CHRONOLOGY.

On the twentieth of August, 1589, James VI. of Scotland afterwards James I. of England married the princess Anne of Denmark, daughter to Frederick II. She became the mother of the ill-fated Charles I.

LOVE TOKENS.

_To the Editor of the Every-Day Book._

Sir,--It was the custom in England in “olden tyme,” as the ancient chronicles have it, for “enamoured maydes and gentilwomen,” to give to their favourite swains, as tokens of their love, little handkerchiefs about three or four inches square, wrought round about, often in embroidery, with a button or tassel at each corner, and a little one in the centre. The finest of these favours were edged with narrow gold lace, or twist; and then, being folded up in four cross folds, so that the middle might be seen, they were worn by the accepted lovers in their hats, or at the breast. These favours became at last so much in vogue, that they were sold ready made in the shops in Elizabeth’s time, from sixpence to sixteen-pence a piece. Tokens were also given by the gentlemen, and accepted by their fair mistresses; thus ascribed in an old comedy of the time:--

Given earrings we will wear
Bracelets of our lover’s hair;
Which they on our arms shall twist
(With our names carved) on our wrists.

I am, &c.

H. M. LANDER

_King’s Bench Walk, Temple._

* * * * *

_For the Every-Day Book._

AN EVENING WALK.

_Love Lane._

’Tis fitter now to ease the brain,
To take a quiet walk in a green lane.

_Byron._

This observation of our matchless bard, the idol and delight of our own times, though just, few I fear follow--either from want of inclination, or what is as bad, want of time. But there are some whose hours of toil, mental and bodily, do not preclude them from seeking the tranquil haunts of nature. With me, after nervous irritability and mental excitement, it has been, and is a favourite enjoyment, to quit the dusky dwellings of man, and wander among the fields and green lanes of our southern shore, while the sun is declining, and stillness begins to settle around.

Listlessly roving, whither I cared not, I have sauntered along till I felt my unquiet sensations gradually subside, and a pleasing calmness steal upon me. I know of nothing more annoying than that nervous thrilling or trembling, which runs through the whole frame after the mind has been troubled; it seems to me like the bubbling and restless swell of the ocean after a storm--one mass of fretful and impatient water, knowing not how to compose itself. But to come to the green fields. There is a lane leading from the grove at Camberwell called Love-lane; it is well so called--long, winding, and quiet, with scenery around beautifully soft--the lover might wander with the mistress of his soul for hours in undisturbed enjoyment. This lane is dear to me, for with it is linked all my early associations--the bird--the butterfly--the wild white rose--my first love. The bird is there still, the butterfly hovers there, and the rose remains; but where is my first love? I may not ask. Echo will but answer, “where!” yet I may in imagination behold her--I call up the shadowy joys of former times, and like the beautiful vision in “Manfred,” she stands before me:--

A thousand recollections in her train
Of joy and sorrow, ere the bitter hour
Of separation came, never again
To meet in this wide world as we have met,
To feel as we have felt, to look, to speak,
To think alone as we _have_ thought allow’d.

What happy feelings have been ours in that quiet lane! We have wandered arm in arm, gazed on the scenery, listened to the bird. We have not spoken, but our eyes have met, and thoughts too full for utterance, found answers there. Those days are gone; yet I love to wander there alone, even now; to press the grass that has been pressed by her feet, to pluck the flower from the hedge where she plucked it, to look on the distant hills that she looked on, rising in long smooth waves, when not a sound is heard save the “kiss me dear,” which some chaffinch is warbling to his mate, or the trickling of waters seeking their sandy beds in the hollows beneath the hedgerows. I strolled thither a few evenings ago: the sun was softly sinking, and the bright crimson which surrounded him, fading into a faint orange, tinged here and there with small sable clouds; the night-cloud was advancing slowly darkly on; afar in the horizon were

The light-ships of the sky
Sailing onward silently.

One bird, the lark, was singing his evening song among the cool grass; softly, sweetly, it died away, and all was silent deep tranquillity; a pleasing coolness came on the faint breeze over the neighbouring fields, pregnant with odours, refreshing as they were fragrant. It was twilight; the green of the distant hills changed to a greyish hue, their outlines were enlarged, the trees assumed a more gigantic appearance, and soft dews began to ascend; faint upshootings of light in the eastern horizon foretold the rising of the moon; she appeared at length above the clouds, and a deeper stillness seemed to come with her, as if nature, like man at the presence of a lovely women, was hushed into silent admiration; the grey clouds rolled away on each side of her as rolls the white foam of the ocean before the bows of the vessel; her course was begun, and,

“Silently beautiful, and calmly bright
Along her azure path I saw her glide
Heedless of all those things that neath her light
In bliss or woe or pain or care abide.
Wealth, poverty, humility, and pride,
All are esteemed as nothing in her sight,
Nor make her for one moment turn aside.
So calm philosophy unmoved pursues
Throughout the busy world its quiet way;
Nor aught that folly wiles or glory woos,
Can tempt awhile its notice or its stay:
Above all earthly thoughts its way it goes
And sinks at length in undisturbed repose.”

Coldly and calmly the full orb glided through the stillness of heaven. My thoughts were of the past, of the millions who had worshipped her, of the many she had inspired--of Endymion, of the beautiful episode of Nisus and Euryalus in Virgil, of Diana of the Ephesians, of the beautiful descriptions of her by the poets of every age, of every clime. The melancholy yet pleasing feeling which came on me I can hardly describe: my disquietude had ceased; an undisturbed calmness succeeded it; my thoughts were weaned from the grosser materiality of earth, and were soaring upward in silent adoration. I felt the presence of a divinity, and was for a moment happy. Ye who are careworn, whose minds are restless, go at the peaceful hour of eve to the green fields and the hedge-clothed lanes. If you are not poets, you will feel as poets; if you doubt, you will be convinced of Supreme Power and Infinite Love; and be better in head and heart for your journey.

S. R. J.

* * * * *

SONG.

BY SAMUEL DANIEL, 1590.

Love is a sickness full of woes,
All remedies refusing;
A plant that most with cutting grows,
Most barren with best using.
Why so?
More we enjoy it, more it dies,
If not enjoyed it sighing cries
Heigh ho!

Love is a torment of the mind,
A tempest everlasting;
And Jove hath made it of a kind
Not well, nor full, nor fasting.
Why so?
More we enjoy it, more it dies,
If not enjoyed it sighing cries
Heigh ho![299]

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 61·92.

[299] Communicated by C. T.

~August 21.~

MERLIN’S CAVE, AND STEPHEN DUCK.

We are told on the thirtieth of June, 1735, that her majesty (the queen of George II.) ordered “Mr. Rysbrack to make the bustos in marble of all the kings of England from William the Conqueror, in order to be placed in her new building in the gardens at Richmond.”

On the twenty-first of August, in the same year, we learn that the figures her majesty had ordered for Merlin’s cave were placed therein, viz. 1.--Merlin at a table with conjuring books and mathematical instruments, taken from the face of Mr. Ernest, page to the prince of Wales; 2.--King Henry VIIth’s queen, and 3.--Queen Elizabeth, who come to Merlin for knowledge, the former from the face of Mrs. Margaret Purcell, and the latter from Miss Paget’s; 4.--Minerva from Mrs. Poyntz’s; 5.--Merlin’s secretary, from Mr. Kemp’s, one of his royal highness the duke’s grenadiers; and 6.--a witch, from a tradesman’s wife at Richmond. Her majesty ordered also a choice collection of English books to be placed therein; and appointed Mr. Stephen Duck to be cave and library keeper, and his wife to an office of trust and employment.[300]

* * * * *

Stephen Duck was a versifying thrasher, whom she got appointed a yeoman of the guard, and afterwards obtained orders for, and the living of Byfleet, in Surrey. The poor fellow sought happiness at the wrong end, and drowned himself in 1756.

Contentment, rosy, dimpled maid,
Thou brightest daughter of the sky,
Why dost thou to the hut repair,
And from the gilded palace fly?

I’ve trac’d thee on the peasant’s cheek;
I’ve mark’d thee in the milkmaid’s smile;
I’ve heard thee loudly laugh and speak,
Amid the sons of want and toil.

Yet, in the circles of the great,
Where fortune’s gifts are all combined,
I’ve sought thee early, sought thee late,
And ne’er thy lovely form could find.
Since then from wealth and pomp you flee,
I ask but competence and thee!

_Lady Manners._

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 61·65.

[300] Gentleman’s Magazine.

~August 22.~

BATTLE OF BOSWORTH.

This is the anniversary of the memorable conflict wherein Richard III. lost his life and crown.

_For the Every-Day Book._

The well of which the above is a representation, is situate on the spot where the celebrated battle of Bosworth field was fought, by which, the long-existing animosities between the rival houses of York and Lancaster were finally closed. The king is said, during the heat of the engagement, to have refreshed himself with water from this spring. A few years ago a subscription was entered into, for the purpose of erecting some memorial of this circumstance, and the late learned Dr. Parr being applied to, furnished an inscription, of which the following is a copy.

AQVA . EX . HOC . PVTEO . HAVSTA
SITIM . SEDAVIT
RICARDVS . TERTIVS . REX . ANGLIAE
CVM . HENRICO . COMITE . DE . RICHMONDIA
ACERRIME . ATQVE . INFENSISSIME
PRAELIANS
ET . VITA . PARITER . AC . SCEPTRO
AVTE . NOCTEM . CARITVRVS
XI KAL . SEPT . A. D. MCCCCLXXXV.

TRANSLATION.

_Richard the III. King of England, most eagerly and hotly contending with Henry, Earl of Richmond, and about to lose before night both his sceptre and his life, quenched his thirst with water drawn from this well.--August 22, 1485._

The Roman month was divided into kalends, nones, and ides, all of which were reckoned _backwards_. The kalends are the first day of the month.--Thus the first of September being the kalends of September, the thirty-first of August would be _pridie kalendarum_, or the second of the kalends of _September_; the thirtieth of August would then be the third of the kalends of September. Pursuing this train the twenty-second of August, and the XI of the kalends of September will be found to correspond.

The battle of Bosworth field was fought on the twenty-second of August, 1485, “on a large flat spacious ground,” says Burton, “three miles distant from this town.” Richmond, afterwards Henry VII., landed at Milford-haven on the sixth of August, and arrived at Tamworth on the eighteenth. On the nineteenth he had an interview with his father-in-law, lord Stanley, when measures were converted for their further operations. On the twentieth, he encamped at Atherstone, and on the twenty-first, both armies were in sight of each other the whole day. Richard entered Leicester with his army on the sixteenth, having the royal crown on his head; he slept at Elmesthorpe on the night of the seventeenth. On the eighteenth he arrived at Stapleton, where he continued till Sunday the twenty-first. The number of his forces exceeded sixteen thousand--those of Richmond did not amount to five thousand. On each side the leader addressed his troops with a splendid oration “which was scarcely finished” says an old historian, “but the one army espied the other. Lord! how hastily the soldiers buckled their helms! how quickly the archers bent their bows and brushed their feathers! how readily the billmen shook their bills and proved their staves, ready to approach and join when the terrible trumpet should sound the bloody blast to victory or death!” The first conflict of the archers being over, the armies met fiercely with sword and bills, and at this period Richmond was joined by lord Stanley, which determined the fortune of the day.

In this battle, which lasted little more than two hours, above one thousand persons were slain on the side of Richard. Of Richmond’s army, scarcely one hundred were killed, amongst whom, the principal person was sir William Brandon, his standard bearer. Richard is thought to have despised his enemy too much, and to have been too dilatory in his motions. He is universally allowed to have performed prodigies of valour, and is said to have fallen at last by treachery, in consequence of a blow from one of his followers. His body was thrown across a horse, and carried, for interment, to the Greyfriars at Leicester. He was the only English monarch, since the conquest, that fell in battle, and the second who fought in his crown. Henry V. appeared in his at Agincourt, which was the means of saving his life, (though, probably, it might provoke the attack,) by sustaining a stroke with a battle-axe, which cleft it. Richard’s falling off in the engagement, was taken up and secreted in a bush, where it was discovered by sir Reginald Bray and placed upon Henry’s head. Hence arises the device of a crown in a hawthorn bush, at each end of Henry’s tomb in Westminster-abbey.

In 1644, Bosworth field became again the scene of warfare; an engagement, or rather skirmish, taking place between the parliamentary and royal forces, in which the former were victorious without the loss of a single individual.

G. J.

* * * * *

The late Mr. William Hutton, the historian of Birmingham, wrote an account of “The Battle of Bosworth Field,” which Mr. Nichols published, and subsequently edited with considerable additions. Mr. Hutton apprehended that the famous well where Richard slaked his thirst would sink into oblivion. A letter from Dr. Parr to Mr. Nichols, dated Hatton, September 13, 1813, removes these apprehensions:--

“As to Bosworth Field, six or seven years ago I explored it, and I found Dick’s Well, out of which the tradition is that Richard drank during the battle. It was in dirty, mossy ground, and seemed to me in danger of being destroyed by the cattle. I therefore bestirred myself to have it preserved, and to ascertain the owner. The bishop of Down spoke to the archbishop of Armagh, who said that the ground was not his. I then found it not to be Mrs. Pochin’s. Last year I traced it to a person to whom it had been bequeathed by Dr. Taylor, formerly rector of Bosworth. I went to the spot, accompanied by the rev. Mr. Lynes, of Kirkby-Malory. The grounds had been drained. We dug in two or three places without effect. I then applied to a neighbouring farmer, a good intelligent fellow. He told me his family had drawn water from it for six or seven years, and that he would conduct me to the very place. I desired him to describe the signs. He said there were some large stones, and some square wood, which went round the well at the top. We dug, and found things as he had described them; and, having ascertained the very spot, we rolled in the stones, and covered them with earth. Now lord Wentworth, and some other gentlemen, mean to fence the place with some strong stones, and to put a large stone over it with the following inscription; and you may tell the story if you please.

“Yours, &c.

“S. PARR.”

The inscription is given in the preceding notice of the battle of Bosworth by G. J., who likewise obligingly transmitted the drawing of the well in its present state.

* * * * *

The editor is highly favoured by the interesting communication from a gentleman profoundly erudite in genealogical lore.

_For the Every-Day Book._

The ravages inflicted by the all-subduing hand of time are not more distinctly traceable in the deserted hall of the dismantled castle, and the moulding fane of the dilapidated abbey, than in the downfall or extinction of ancient and distinguished races of nobility, who in ages long past by have shook the senate and field, have scattered plenty o’er a smiling land, or, as alas! is too frequently the melancholy reverse, shut the gates of mercy on mankind.

Considerations of this nature have suggested a review of the few families remaining in our peerage, whose ancestors enjoyed that distinction.

“Ere yet the fell Plantagenets had spent
Their antient rage on Bosworth’s purple field.”

The protracted duration and alternated reverses of the contest between the houses of Lancaster and York, added to the rancorous inveteracy indispensably inherent in a barbarous age, will account for the comparatively rare sprinkling of the immediate descendants of the followers and councillors of the Plantagenets in our present house of peers. In France, on the other hand, the contemporary struggle for the throne laid between an indisputed native prince, Charles VII. and a foreign competitor, our Henry VI. The courtesies of war (imperfect even as they existed in those days) were allowed fairer play, and those who escaped the immediate edge of the foeman’s sword were not handed over to the axe of the executioner.

The awful mortality which befell one eminent branch of our gallant Plantagenets at the period in question, is recorded in emphatic terms by their animated and faithful chronicler, Shakspeare:--

“Two of thy name, both dukes of Somerset,
Have sold their lives unto the house of York,
And thou shalt be the third, if this sword hold.”

_List of English Peerages now existing on the Roll, of which the Date
of Creation is prior to the Accession of Henry VII._

Duke of Norfolk.
Duke of Beaufort, as Baron de Botetourt.
Marquis Townshend, as Baron de Ferrars.
Marquis of Hastings, as Baron Hastings.
Earl of Shrewsbury.
Earl of Berkeley, as Baron Berkeley.
Earl Delawarr, as Baron Delawarr and West.
Earl of Abergavenny, as Baron Abergavenny.
Baroness de Roos.
Baron Le Despencer.
Baron de Clifford.
Baron Audley.
Baron Clinton.
Baron Dacre.
Baron de la Zouche.
Baroness Willoughby d’Eresby.
Baroness Grey de Ruthyn.
Baron Stourton.

_List of Families now invested with the Dignity of Peerage, whose
Ancestors in the Male Line, enjoyed the Peerage before the Accession
of Henry VII._

Where a well-grounded doubt exists, an asterisk is prefixed to the
name.

Howard
* Spencer
* Montagu
Clinton
Talbot
Stanley
Hastings
Grey
Berkeley
Windsor
Lumley
West
Neville
Devereux
Courtenay
Stourton
Clifford
Willoughby
* Basset

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 62·50.

~August 23.~

CHRONOLOGY.

August 23, 1305, sir William Wallace, “the peerless knight of Elleslie,” who bravely defended Scotland against Edward I. was executed by order of that monarch on Tower-hill. This distinguished individual is popular in England five hundred years after his death, through the well-known ballad

“Scots wha hae wi’ Wallace bled,” &c.

THE SEASON.

Swallows are now preparing for their departure. On this day, in 1826, the editor observed hundreds of them collecting so high in the air that they seemed of the size of flies; they remained wheeling about and increasing in number upwards of an hour before dusk, when they all took their flight in a south-western direction.

CHELDONIZING, OR SWALLOW SINGING.

_To the Editor of the Every-Day Book_

Sir,--The recent, and it is hoped still continued subscriptions in aid of suffering humanity, induce an observation, that to the very remote origin of collecting general alms, may be traced most of the mummeries practised in Christendom in the gothic centuries, and in the English counties, even till within our own memory. Among the Rhodians one method of soliciting eleemosynary gifts, called cheldonizing, or swallow-singing, is corroboratory of the assertion. This benevolence, or voluntary contribution, was instituted by Cleobulus of Lindos, at a time when public necessity drove the Lindians to the expedient of soliciting a general subscription. Theognis speaks of cheldonizing as taking place among the sacred rites practised at Rhodes in the month Boëdromion, or August, and deriving its name from the customary song:--

The swallow, the swallow is here,
With his back so black, and his belly so white;
He brings on the pride of the year,
With the gay months of love and the days of delight.

Come, bring out the good humming stuff,
Of your nice tit-bits let the swallow partake,
Of good bread and cheese give enough,
And a slice of your right Boëdromion cake.

Our hunger, our hunger it twinges,
So give my good masters, I pray;
Or we’ll pull off your door from its hinges,
And, ecod! we’ll steal young madam away.

She’s a nice little pocket-piece darling,
And faith ’twill be easy to carry her hence;
Away with old prudence so snarling,
And toss us down freely a handful of pence.

Come, let us partake of your cheer,
And loosen your purse strings so hearty;
No crafty old grey beards are here,
And see we’re a merry boy’s party,
And the swallow, the swallow is here!

Plutarch refers to another Rhodian custom, which is particularly mentioned by Phœnix of Colophon, a writer of iambics, who describes the practice being that of certain men going about to collect donations for the crow, and singing or saying--

My good, worthy masters, a pittance bestow,
Some oatmeal, or barley, or wheat, for the crow;
A loaf or a penny, or e’en what you will,
As fortune your pockets may happen to fill.

From the poor man a grain of his salt may suffice,
For your crow swallows all, and is not very nice;
And the man who can now give his grain and no more,
May another day give from a plentiful store.

Come, my lad, to the door, Plutus nods to our wish,
And our sweet little mistress comes out with a dish;
She gives us her figs, and she gives us a smile,
Heaven bless her, and guard her from sorrow and guile;

And send her a husband of noble degree,
And a boy to be danc’d on his grand-daddy’s knee;
And a girl like herself to rejoice her good mother,
Who may one day present her with just such another.

God bless your dear hearts all a thousand times o’er!
Thus we carry our singing to door after door;
Alternately chanting, we ramble along,
And treat all who give, or give not, a song.

The song thus concludes--

My good, worthy masters, a pittance bestow,
Your bounty, my good, worthy mistresses throw;
Remember the crow, he is not very nice,
Do but give as you can, and the gift will suffice.

Pamphilius of Alexandria, in his chapter on names, says these men making collections for the crow, were called coronistæ, or crow-mummers; and their songs were named coronismata, as Hagnooles, the Rhodian, relates in his work, entitled “Coronistæ.”

I am, &c.

J. H. B.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 62·92.

~August 24.~

ST. BARTHOLOMEW.

For St. Bartholomew, see vol. i. col. 1131.

MASSACRE OF ST. BARTHOLOMEW.

This horrible slaughter is noticed in the same volume at the same place. For particulars of the probable amount of the persons massacred, and the different accounts of historians, the reader is referred to a most able article in the “Edinburgh Review, June, 1826,” on the extraordinary misrepresentations of the event and its perpetrators in Mr. Lingard’s “History of England.”

A RESIDENT IN THE FLEET.

On the twenty-fourth of August, 1736, a remarkably fat boar was taken up in coming out of Fleet Ditch into the Thames: it proved to be a butcher’s, near Smithfield-bars, who had missed him five months, all which time, it seems, he had been in the common sewer, and was improved in price from ten shillings to two guineas.[301]

THE FIRST PIGS IN SCOTLAND.

Within the last century (probably about 1720) a person in the parish of Ruthwell, in Dumfriesshire, called the “Gudeman o’ the Brow,” received a young swine as a present from some distant part; which seems to have been the first ever seen in that part of the country. This pig having strayed across the Lochar into the adjoining parish of Carlavroc, a woman who was herding cattle on the marsh, by the sea side, was very much alarmed at the sight of a living creature, that she had never seen or heard of before, approaching her straight from the shore as if it had come out of the sea, and ran home to the village of Blackshaw screaming. As she ran, the pig ran snorking and grunting after her, seeming glad that it had met with a companion. She arrived at the village so exhausted and terrified, that before she could get her story told she fainted away. By the time she came to herself, a crowd of people had collected to see what was the matter, when she told them, that “There was a diel came out of the sea with two horns in his head and chased her, roaring and gaping all the way at her heels, and she was sure it was not far off.” A man called Wills Tom, an old schoolmaster, said if he could see it he would “cunger the diel,” and got a bible and an old sword. The pig immediately started behind his back with a loud grumph, which put him into such a fright, that his hair stood upright in his head, and he was obliged to be carried from the field half dead.

The whole crowd ran some one way and some another; some reached the house-tops, and others shut themselves in barns and byres. At last one on the house-top called out it was “the Gudeman o’ the Brow’s grumphy,” he having seen it before. Thus the affray was settled, and the people reconciled, although some still entertained frightful thoughts about it, and durst not go over the door to a neighbour’s house after dark without one to set or cry them. One of the crowd who had some compassion on the creature, called out, “give it a tork of straw to eat, it will be hungry.”

Next day the pig was conveyed over the Lochar, and on its way home, near the dusk of evening, it came grunting up to two men who were pulling thistles on the farm of Cockpool. Alarmed at the sight, they mounted two old horses they had tethered beside them, intending to make their way home, but the pig getting between them and the houses, caused them to scamper out of the way and land in Lochar moss, where one of their horses was drowned, and the other with difficulty relieved. The night being dark, they durst not part one from the other to call for assistance, lest the monster should find them out and attack them singly; nor durst they speak above their breath for fear of being devoured. At day-break next morning they took a different course, by Cumlongon castle, and made their way home, where they found their families much alarmed on account of their absence. They said that they had seen a creature about the size of a dog, with two horns on its head, and cloven feet, roaring out like a lion, and if they had not galloped away, it would have torn them to pieces. One of their wives said, “Hout man, it has been the Gudeman of the Brow’s grumphy; it frightened them a’ at the Blackshaw yesterday, and poor Meggie Anderson maist lost her wits, and is ay out o ae fit into anither sin-syne.”

The pig happened to lay all night among the corn where the men were pulling thistles, and about day-break set forward on its journey for the Brow. One Gabriel Gunion, mounted on a long-tailed grey colt, with a load of white fish in a pair of creels swung over the beast, encountered the pig, which went nigh among the horse’s feet and gave a snork. The colt, being as much frightened as Gabriel, wheeled about and scampered off sneering, with his tail on his “riggin,” at full gallop. Gabriel cut the slings and dropt the creels, the colt soon dismounted his rider, and going like the wind, with his tail up, never stopped till he came to Barnkirk point, where he took the Solway Frith and landed at Bownes, on the Cumberland side. Gabriel, by the time he got up, saw the pig within sight, took to his heels, as the colt was quite gone, and reached Cumlongon wood in time to hide himself, where he staid all that day and night, and next morning got home almost exhausted. He told a dreadful story! The fright caused him to imagine the pig as big as a calf, having long horns, eyes like trenchers, and a back like a hedgehog. He lost his fish; the colt was got back, but never did more good; and Gabriel fell into a consumption, and died about a year afterwards.

About the same time a vessel came to Glencaple quay, a little below Dumfries, that had some swine on board; one of them having got out of the vessel in the night, was seen on the farm of Newmains next morning. The alarm was spread, and a number of people collected. The animal got many different names, and at last it was concluded to be a “brock” (a badger). Some got pitchforks, some clubs, and others old swords, and a hot pursuit ensued; the chase lasted a considerable time, owing to the pursuers losing heart when near their prey and retreating. One Robs Geordy having rather a little more courage than the rest, ran “neck or nothing,” forcibly upon the animal, and run it through with a pitchfork, for which he got the name of “stout hearted Geordy” all his life after. A man, nearly a hundred years of age, who was alive in 1814, in the neighbourhood where this happened, declared that he remembered the Gudeman of the Brow’s pig, and the circumstances related, and he said it was the first swine ever seen in that country.[302]

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 61·80.

[301] Gentleman’s Magazine.

[302] Henderson on the Breeding of Swine. 1814, 8vo.

~August 25.~

ISLINGTON CATTLE MARKET.

August 25, 1746, a distemper which arose among the horned cattle, broke out afresh in the parts adjacent to London, and “the fair for the sale of Welsh cattle near Islington was kept at Barnet.”[303]

IMPORTANT TO HOUSEKEEPERS.

The following letter from a lady claims the attention of every good housewife at this particular season.

BLACKBERRY JAM.

_To the Editor of the Every-Day Book._

_Westbury, Wiltshire, Aug. 15, 1826._

Sir,--The importance that I attach to the above _sweet_ subject,--the uses of “a _jam_” even may be important,--induces me to offer you the option of republishing a few lines on the occasion, which first appeared in a very condensed form last autumn, in the “Examiner” newspaper. I am anxious to obtain further celebrity, and a wider circulation of the merits which this wholesome dainty justly lay claim, and the success that attended my former little notice of it, encourage me to persevere; for I was informed that after the publication alluded to, the “Herald” copied it, and that subsequently it was cried in the streets of your dingy metropolis.

I can only judge of the prevailing quantity of the kindly blackberry, by the vast profusion that enriches _our_ woody vales, where nature seems resolved to solace herself for the restrictions to which she has been confined by the dreary downs that skirt our beautiful vicinity; and where Falstaff must surely have originated his happy expression of “reasons being plenty as blackberries!” But I am keeping you too long from the subject. The method of preparing the delicate conserve that forms so large a portion of my children’s favourite _adjunctive_ aliment, is so simple, that it can be achieved by the merest novice in the _nice_ department of “domestic management.”

Boil the blackberries with half their weight of coarse moist sugar for three quarters of an hour,[304] keeping the mass stirred constantly. It is a mistake to suppose that a stewpan is a necessary vehicle on the occasion; the commonest tin saucepan will answer the purpose equally well. The more luxurious preserves being made with _white_ sugar, and that of equal weight with the fruit, are necessarily unwholesome; but the cheapness of this homely delicacy, besides its sanative properties renders it peculiarly desirable for scantily furnished tables. It has been a “staple commodity” in my family for some years past, and with the exception of _treacle_, I find it the most useful aliment in “regulating _the bowels_” of my children;--you as a “family man,” sir, will excuse, nay, appreciate the observation, and all your readers who have “_their quivers full of them_,” will not disdain the _gratis_ prescription that shall supersede the _guinea fee!_ Indeed, to the sparing use of butter, and a liberal indulgence in _treacle_ and _blackberry jam_, I mainly attribute the extraordinary health of my young family. The prodigal use, or rather the abuse, of butter that pervades all classes, has often surprised me: the very cottage children, whose tattered apparel bespeaks abject poverty, I continually meet munching their “_hunks_” of bread, smeared with butter; how much should I rejoice to see, because I _know_ its superiority in _every_ respect, my favourite jam substituted! But _cottage children_ are far from being objects of my compassion, for they live in the “country,” which comprehensive word conveys delicious ideas of sun, fresh air, exercise, flowers, shady trees, and this wholesome fruit clustering about them, and inviting their chubby fingers at every healthful step. My pity is reserved for their forlorn little brethren, doomed to breathe the unwholesome atmosphere of crowded manufactories, and close narrow alleys in populous cities! What a luxury would a supper be twice a week, for instance, to the poor little “bottoms” in Spitalfields.[305] Who knows but they might receive their first taste for Shakspeare while being fed, like their great prototype in the “Midsummer Night’s Dream,” with blackberries! “_Dewberries_,” which Titania ordered for the refreshment of her favourite, are so nearly allied to their glossy neighbours, that when the season is far advanced the two are not easily distinguished. Shakspeare, who knew every thing, was of course aware that the dewberry ripens earlier than the blackberry; namely, in the season for “apricots.” It must be confessed that nothing but the associations that are connected with the elegant and romantic name “dewberry,” fit only for the mouth of a fairy to pronounce, could induce me to give a preference to the latter; they are not so numerous, nor consequently so useful. I own I am sanguine respecting the _general_ introduction of blackberries into the London street cries. What an innovation they would cause! what a rural sight, and sound, and taste, and smell, would they introduce into that wilderness of houses! What a conjuring up of happy feelings--almost as romantic as those that are inspired by “bilberries, ho!” When I resided in London, I recollect the wild, and exquisite, and undefinable sensations that were excited by the peculiar and un-city-like cry of these “whorts.”[306] I used to look out at the blue-frocked boys who sold them, with their heavy country faces; capacious “_gabardines_,” that hinted of Caliban; round hats, that knew no touch of form; and unaccountable laced up boots; with as much astonishment, as if I had beheld and heard purveyors from the wilderness shouting “_Manna!_” which we all know is “_angel’s food!_”

I have taken up sadly too much of your time, sir, I feel assured. I intended but to name the method of making blackberry jam, to assure you of its salubrity, and to request you to recommend its general use:--and I have only now to request that you will not suffer the very imperfect manner in which _I_, who cannot write for the public eye, have handled the subject to deter you from doing it justice.

I am, Sir,

Yours respectfully,

I. J. T.

P. S. It has just occurred to me to say, why should not grocers, confectioners, fruiterers, and chandlers, speculate in the “new article,” and provide a store of it to meet a probable demand? I should think it might be sold, with a reasonable profit, at sixpence or eightpence a pound.

* * * * *

DEATH OF THE LOTTERY.

In the spring, and for three weeks after midsummer, 1826, the lottery-office keepers incessantly plied every man, woman, and child in the United Kingdom, and its dependencies, with petitions to make a fortune in “the last lottery that can be drawn.” Men paraded the streets with large printed placards on poles, or pasted on their backs, announcing “All Lotteries End for Ever! 18th of July.” The walls were stuck, and hand-bills were thrust into the hands of street passengers, with the same heart-rending intelligence, and with the solemn assurance that the demand for tickets and shares was immense! Their prices had so risen, were so rising, and would be so far beyond all calculation, that to get shares or tickets at all, they must be instantly purchased! As the time approached, a show was got up to proclaim that the deplorable “Death of the Lottery,” would certainly take place on the appointed day; but on some account or other, the pathetic appeal of the benevolent contractors was disregarded, and the gentlemen about to be “turned off,” were as unheeded, and as unlamented as criminals, who say or sing in their last moments--

“Gentlefolks all
Pity our fall!
Have pity all,
Pity our fall!”

At length the stoney-hearted public were “respectfully” informed that “the lords of the treasury had issued a “_reprieve_,” and that the “drawing” and “quartering” and so forth was, “postponed from Tuesday, 18th July,” to some dull day in October, “when Lotteries will finish for ever?”

* * * * *

Of late years lotteries have been drawn at Coopers’-hall. Formerly they were drawn at the place, and in the manner exhibited in the preceding representation, after an engraving by Cole.

PHRENOLOGY.

PHRENOLOGICAL ILLUSTRATIONS. _By George Cruikshank._ London: Published
by George Cruikshank, Myddelton-terrace, Pentonville. 1826.

“In the name of wonder,” a reader may inquire, “is the _Every-Day Book_ to be a Review.” By no means;--but “George Cruikshank” is a “remarkable person;” his first appearance in the character of an author is a “remarkable event,” in the August of 1826; and, as such, deserves a “remarkable notice.”

Every reader is of course aware, that, as certainly as a hazel-rod, between the fingers of a gifted individual, discovers the precious metals and waters beneath the earth, so certainly, a phrenological adept, by a discriminating touch of the nodosities on the surface of the head, detects the secret sources, or “springs of human action.” To what extent Mr. Cruikshank has attained this quality, or whether he is under obligations to Dr. Combe for “a touch” of his skill, or has bowed his head to Mr. De Ville for “a cast” in plaster, is not so clear, as that his “Phrenological Illustrations” will be as popular, and assuredly as lasting as the science itself--“Cruikshank and Craniology--_for ever_!”

Be it observed, however, that “Craniology,” which alliterates so well with “Cruikshank,” was only a “proper” term, while the disciples of doctors Gall and Spurzheim were traversing the exterior of the cranium; but after they had gained a knowledge of the interior, and classified and arranged their discoveries, they generalized the whole, and relinquished the term “craniology” for the denomination “phrenology.” This change was obviously imperative, because “craniology” signifies no more than an acquaintance with the outside of the head, and “phrenology” implies familiarity with its contents.

Still, however, the incipient phrenologist must avail himself of “craniology,” as an introduction to the nobler science. To him it is as necessary a guide as topography is to a student in geology, who without that requisite, and supposing him ignorant of the characters of mountains may lose his way, and be found vainly boring Schehalion, or sinking a shaft within the crater of an exhausted volcano. To prevent such mistakes in “phrenology,” the “estate under the hat” has been thoroughly explored, and divided and subdivided: names and numbers have been assigned to each portion, and the entire globe of the microcosm accurately measured, and mapped, “according to the latest surveys.”

Mr. Cruikshank’s “Illustrations of Phrenology” form a more popular introduction to the science than its most ardent admirers could possibly hope. He acknowledges his obligations to doctors Gall and Spurzheim, and implicitly adopts their arrangement of the “organs;” a word, by the by, that signifies those convexities which may be seen by the eye, or touched by the finger, on the exterior of the greater convexity called the head; and which are produced, or thrown up thereon, by the working or heaving of the ideas internally. From this process it appears that a man “bores” his own head, so as to form concavities within and convexities without; and, in the same way, by the power of speech, “bores” the heads of his friends. The term “to bore,” however, as commonly used, signifies “to bother,” or “perplex and confound,” and therefore is not admitted in the nomenclature of “phrenology,” which condescends to level every “bump,” to the right understanding of the meanest capacity.

Of Mr. Cruikshank’s proficiency or rank in the phrenological school, the writer of this article is incompetent to judge; but, as regards his present work, whether he be a master, or only a monitor, is of little consequence; he seems well grounded in rudiments, and more he does not profess to teach. Instead of delivering a mapped head in plaister of Paris with his book, he exhibits an engraving of three “bare polls,” or polls sufficiently bare to discover the position of every convexity or “organ” whereon he duly marks their numbers, according to the notation of doctors Gall and Spurzheim. From hence we learn that we have nine propensities, nine sentiments, eleven knowing faculties, and four reflecting faculties. Adhering to the doctrinal enumeration and nomenclature of the “organs” worked out, or capable of being worked out, by these propensities, sentiments, and faculties, on every human head, he wisely prefers the Baconian as the best method of teaching “the new science,” and exhibits the effects of each of the thirty-three “organs” in six sheets of etchings by himself, from his own views of each “organ.”

It is now proper to hint at the mode wherein the artist has executed his design, and to take each organ according to its number, and under its scientific term.

I.--AMATIVENESS.

Mr. Cruikshank seems to imagine that this organ may induce a declaration of undivided attachment to an intermediate object, in order to arrive at the object _sincerely_ desired: under the circumstances represented, this deviation of “amativeness” may be denominated “cupboard love.”

II.--PHILOPROGENITIVENESS.

The tendency of this perplexing organ hastens the necessity of extending our “colonial policy.” This sketch is full of life and spirit.

III.--INHABITIVENESS.

The subject of the artist’s point, a “tenant for life,” doubtless has an amazing developement of the organ.

IV.--ADHESIVENESS.

Is “enough to frighten a horse.” This organ will be further observed on presently.

V.--COMBATIVENESS.

Its vigorous cultivation is displayed with much animation.

VI.--DESTRUCTIVENESS.

A familiar illustration of this organ is derived from a common occurrence in almost every market-town. Its contemplation, and a few recent incidents, suggest a query or two. A bull ran into a china shop, but instead of proceeding to the work of demolition, threw his eye around the place, thrust his horn under the arm of a richly painted vase, and ran briskly into the street with his prize. Was this act ascribable to the organ of “colour,” or that of “covetiveness?” An _ox_ walked into a well-furnished parlour, and withdrew without doing further mischief than ogling himself in the looking-glass. Were these “stolen” looks occasioned by “covetiveness,” or “self-love?” Another of the _bos_ tribe rapidly passed men, women, and children, ran up the steps to an open street door, hurried through the passage, ascended every flight of the stair-case, nor stopped till he had gained the front attic, from whence he put his head through the window, and looked down from his proud eminence, over the parapet, upon his “followers.” On this third example may be quoted what Mr. Cruikshank says of another organ, “_Inhabitiveness_. To this organ is ascribed, in man, _Self Love_, and in other animals, _Physical height_. The artist has endeavoured to give _his_ idea of _inhabitiveness_ in plate 2.” On comparing the anecdote last related, with the artist’s idea in the plate he refers to, it is clear that, on this occasion, his view might have been more _elevated_. In the last-mentioned bull, “Inhabitiveness” seems to have been the prevailing organ. Separately considering the three animals, and their general character, and the tempting objects by which each was surrounded, without their manifestation of any action to denote the existence of “destructiveness,” a question arises, whether counteracting organs may not be cultivated in such animals, to the extent of neutralizing the primary developement.

VII.--CONSTRUCTIVENESS.

This is so elegant an exhibition of the propensity in connection with certain vegetable tendencies, that it is doubtful whether developements from the action of the sap in plants, may not admit of classification with our own.

VIII.--COVETIVENESS.

In this representation, the countenance of a boy is frightfully impressed by the incessant restlessness of the “organ,” combined with “cautiousness.” See No. XII.

IX.--SECRETIVENESS.

Exhibits one of the advantages of this “propensity” in the sex.

X.--SELF LOVE.

Narcissus himself could not be more strongly marked, than this “heart-breaking” personage.

XI.--APPROBATION. See No. XXXIII.

XII.--CAUTIOUSNESS.

Prudence and indecision are here united by a decisive touch. The accessory, who assists this “procedure of the human understanding,” is exceedingly

--------------“light and airy;
Brisk as a bee, blithe as a fairy.”

XIII.--BENEVOLENCE.

A “benevolent” individual, receiving loud acknowledgments from the object of his favours.

XIV.--VENERATION.

Mr. Cruikshank says, that “Dr. Gall observed this organ chiefly in persons with bald heads.” The artist satisfactorily exemplifies, that when its absence occurs in Englishmen, it is a rare exception to the national character.

XV.--HOPE.

This sentiment is always allegorized with an anchor, and Mr. Cruikshank represents a poor animal under its influence, “brought to an anchor.”

XVI.--IDEALITY.