maiden lady, a Miss Bexwick or Beswick, who had a great horror of being
_buried alive_. To avoid this, she devised an estate to her medical
adviser, the late Mr. Charles White and his two children, _viz._ Miss
Rosa White and her sister, and his nephew, Captain White, _on condition
that the doctor paid her a morning visit for twelve months after
her decease_. In order to do this, it was requisite to embalm her,
which he did; she was then placed in the attic of the old mansion in
which she died, and in which the doctor took up his residence. Upon
his leaving it, she was removed to the house erected by him in King
Street, Manchester, and which stood on the ground now occupied by the
Town Hall. At the death of Mr. White, the doctor, she was sent to the
Lying-in Hospital, where she remained until she was removed to her
present resting-place, the Manchester Museum of Natural History, where
the mummy is suspended in a case with a glass-door.
Mr. de Quincey, when a boy at Manchester School, at the beginning
of the century, became acquainted with the mummy, and in one of
his works mentions it being taken from the case, and the body of a
notorious highwayman being substituted; but this is an embellishment or
exaggeration of the already extraordinary story.
Hypochondriasis.
In the year 1827 there was living at Taunton a person who had often
kept at home for several weeks under the idea of danger in going
abroad. Sometimes he imagined that he was a cat, and seated himself on
his hind-quarters; at other times he would fancy himself a teapot, and
stand with one arm a-kimbo like the handle, and the other stretched out
like the spout. At last he conceived himself to have died, and would
not move or be moved till the coffin came. His wife, in serious alarm,
sent for a surgeon, who addressed him with the usual salutation, "How
do you do this morning?" "Do!" replied he in a low voice, "a pretty
question to a dead man!" "Dead, sir; what do you mean?" "Yes; I died
last Wednesday; the coffin will be here presently, and I shall be
buried to-morrow." The surgeon, a man of sense and skill, immediately
felt the patient's pulse, and shaking his head, said, "I find it is
indeed too true; you are certainly defunct; the blood is in a state of
stagnation, putrefaction is about to take place, and the sooner you
are buried the better." The coffin arrived, he was carefully placed in
it, and carried towards the church. The surgeon had previously given
instructions to several neighbours how to proceed. The procession had
scarcely moved a dozen yards, when a person stopped to inquire who
they were carrying to the grave: "Mr. ----, our late worthy overseer."
"What! is the old rogue gone at last? a good release, for a greater
villain never lived." The imaginary deceased no sooner heard this
attack on his character, than he jumped up, and in a threatening
posture said, "You lying scoundrel, if I were not dead I'd make you
suffer for what you say; but as it is, I am forced to submit." He then
quietly laid down again; but ere they had proceeded half-way to church,
another party stopped the procession with the same inquiry, and added
invective and abuse. This was more than the supposed corpse could bear;
and jumping from the coffin, was in the act of following his defamers,
when the whole party burst into an immoderate fit of laughter. The
public exposure awakened him to a sense of his folly; he fought against
the weakness, and in the end conquered it.
Here is an instance of a cure for hypochondriasis in Switzerland:--A
wealthy and hypochondriacal farmer, who believed himself to be
possessed by seven devils, applied to the Swiss doctor, Michael
Schuppach, to rout the demoniac occupants of his distressed mind.
"Friend," said Schuppach gravely, "you believe there are but seven
devils in you; in reality there are eight, and the eighth is the
captain of the band." To expel the eight unclean spirits the physician
had recourse to an electrical apparatus, with which contrivance the
farmer was of course utterly ignorant. For eight successive days the
patient visited the doctor and underwent an electrical shock. At each
of the first seven shocks the operator said, "There goes one of your
devils." On the eighth day Schuppach said, "Now, we must relieve you
of the chief of the evil spirits--it'll be a tough job!" As these
words were uttered, a violent shock sent the patient fairly to the
floor. "And now," cried the benevolent impostor, "you are free of your
devils--that last stroke was a settler!" The cure was complete.
[Illustration]
_STRANGE SIGHTS and SPORTING SCENES._
"The Wonder of all the Wonders that the World ever Wondered at."
Under the title of "_Horæ Subsecivæ_," in the _Dublin University
Review_, in 1833, vol. i., p. 482, by the late Dr. West, of Dublin,
appeared the following amusing trifle:--
"Among Swift's works, we find a _jeu d'esprit_, entitled 'The Wonder
of all the Wonders that the World ever Wondered at,' and purporting
to be an advertisement of a conjurer. There is an amusing one of
the same kind by a very humorous German writer, George Christopher
Lichtenberg, which, as his works are not much known here, is perhaps
worth translating. The occasion on which it was written was the
following. In the year 1777, a celebrated conjurer of those days
arrived at Göttingen. Lichtenberg, for some reason or other, did not
wish him to exhibit there; and, accordingly, before the other had time
even to announce his arrival, he wrote this advertisement, in his name,
and had it printed and posted over the town. The whole was the work
of one night. The result was, that the real Simon Pure decamped next
morning without beat of drum, and never appeared in Göttingen again.
Lichtenberg had spent some time in England, and understood the language
perfectly, so that he may have seen Swift's paper. Still, even granting
that he took the hint from him, it must be allowed he has improved on
it not a little, and displayed not only more delicacy, which, indeed,
was easy enough, but more wit also.
"'Notice.
"'The admirers of supernatural Physics are hereby informed that the
far-famed magician, Philadelphus Philadelphia (the same that is
mentioned by Cardanus, in his book _De Naturâ Supernaturali_, where he
is styled "The envied of Heaven and Hell"), arrived here a few days ago
by the mail, although it would have been just as easy for him to come
through the air, seeing that he is the person who, in the year 1482,
in the public market at Venice, threw a ball of cord into the clouds,
and climbed upon it into the air till he got out of sight. On the 9th
of January, of the present year, he will commence at the Merchants'
Hall, publico-privately, to exhibit his one-dollar tricks, and continue
weekly to improve them, till he comes to his five-hundred-guinea
tricks; amongst which last are some which, without boasting, excel the
wonderful itself, nay are, as one may say, absolutely impossible.
"'He has had the honour of performing with the greatest possible
approbation before all the potentates, high and low, of the four
quarters of the world; and even in the fifth, a few weeks ago, before
her Majesty Queen Oberea, at Otaheite.
"'He is to be seen every day, except on Mondays and Thursdays, when
he is employed in clearing the heads of the honourable members of
the Congress of his countrymen at Philadelphia; and at all hours,
except from eleven to twelve in the forenoon, when he is engaged at
Constantinople; and from twelve to one, when he is at his dinner.
"'The following are some of his common one-dollar tricks; and they are
selected, not as being the best of them, but as they can be described
in the fewest words:--
"'1. Without leaving the room, he takes the weathercock off St. James's
Church, and sets it on St. John's, and _vice versâ_. After a few
minutes he puts them back again in their proper places. N.B. All this
without a magnet, by mere sleight of hand.
"'2. He takes two ladies, and sets them on their heads on a table, with
their legs up; he then gives them a blow, and they immediately begin
to spin like tops with incredible velocity, without breach either of
their head-dress by the pressure, or of decorum by the falling of their
petticoats, to the very great satisfaction of all present.
"'3. He takes three ounces of the best arsenic, boils it in a gallon of
milk, and gives it to the ladies to drink. As soon as they begin to get
sick, he gives them two or three spoonfuls of melted lead, and they go
away in high spirits.
"'4. He takes a hatchet, and knocks a gentleman on the head with it,
so that he falls dead on the floor. When there, he gives a second
blow, whereupon the gentleman immediately gets up as well as ever, and
generally asks what music that was.
"'5. He draws three or four ladies' teeth, makes the company shake them
well together in a bag, and then puts them into a little cannon, which
he fires at the aforesaid ladies' heads, and they find their teeth
white and sound in their places again.
"'6. A metaphysical trick, otherwise commonly called παν,
_metaphysica_, whereby he shows that a thing can actually be and not be
at the same time. It requires great preparation and cost, and is shown
so low as a dollar, solely in honour of the University.
"'7. He takes all the watches, rings, and other ornaments of the
company, and even money if they wish, and gives every one a receipt for
his property. He then puts them all in a trunk, and brings them off to
Cassel. In a week after, each person tears his receipt, and that moment
finds whatever he gave in his hands again. He has made a great deal of
money by this trick.
"'N.B. During this week, he performs in the top room at the Merchants'
Hall; but after that, up in the air over the pump in the market-place;
for whoever does not pay, will not see.'"
[Illustration: The Princess Caraboo. From a sketch by Bird, R.A.]
"The Princess Caraboo."
Early in the year 1865 there died at Bristol a female of considerable
personal attractions, whose early history was amusing enough, yet
took a strong hold upon credulous persons half-a-century since. She
pretended to be a native of Javasu, in the Indian Ocean, and to
have been carried off by pirates, by whom she had been sold to the
captain of a brig. Her first appearance was in the spring of 1817, at
Almondsbury, in Gloucestershire. Having been ill-used when on board the
ship, she had jumped overboard, she said, swam on shore, and wandered
about six weeks before she came to Almondsbury. She appears next to
have found her way to Bath, and there to have created a sensation in
the literary and fashionable circles of Bath and other places, which
lasted till it was discovered that the whole affair was a romance,
cleverly sustained and acted out by a young and prepossessing girl, who
sought to maintain the imposition by the invention of hieroglyphics and
characters to represent her native language.
In 1817, there was published at Bristol a narrative of this singular
imposition, "practised upon the benevolence of a lady residing in the
Vicinity of Bristol by a young woman of the name of Mary Willcocks,
_alias_ Baker, _alias_ Bakerstendht, _alias_ Caraboo, Princess of
Javasu;" for which work Bird, the Royal Academician, drew two portraits.
It was ascertained that she was a native of Witheridge, in Devonshire,
where her father was a cobbler. She appears to have taken flight to
America, and in 1824 she returned to England, and hired apartments
in New Bond Street, where she exhibited herself to the public at the
charge of one shilling; but she did not attract any great attention.
On being deposed from the honours which had been awarded to her, "the
Princess" retired into comparatively humble life, and married. There
was a kind of grim humour in the occupation which she subsequently
followed, that of an importer of leeches: but she conducted her
operations with much judgment and ability, and carried on her trade
with credit to herself and satisfaction to her customers. The quondam
"Princess" died, leaving a daughter, who, like her mother, is described
as very beautiful.
There is, it should be added, a very strange story of the Princess
having got an introduction to Napoleon Bonaparte at St. Helena, of
which affair the following account appeared in _Felix Farley's Bristol
Journal_, September 13th, 1817:--
"A letter from Sir Hudson Lowe, lately received from St. Helena, forms
at present the leading topic of conversation in the higher circles. It
states that on the day preceding the date of the last dispatches, a
large ship was discovered in the offing. The wind was strong from the
S.S.E. After several hours' tacking, with apparent intention to reach
the island, the vessel was observed to bear away for the N.W., and in
the course of an hour the boat was seen entering the harbour. It was
rowed by a single person. Sir Hudson went alone to the beach, and to
his astonishment saw a female of interesting appearance drop the oars
and spring to land. She stated that she had sailed from Bristol, under
the care of some missionary ladies, in a vessel called the _Robert and
Anne_, Captain Robinson, destined for Philadelphia; that the vessel
being driven out of its course by a tempest, which continued for
several successive days, the crew at length perceived land, which the
captain recognised to be St. Helena: that she immediately conceived
an ardent desire of seeing the man with whose future fortunes she
was persuaded her own were mysteriously connected; and her breast
swelled with the prospect of contemplating face to face an impostor
not equalled on earth since the days of Mohammed; but a change of wind
to the S.S.E. nearly overset her hopes. Finding the captain resolved
to proceed according to his original destination, she watched her
opportunity, and springing with a large clasp-knife into a small boat
which was slung at the stern, she cut the ropes, dropt safely into the
ocean, and rowed away. The wind was too strong from the land to allow
of the vessel being brought about to thwart her object. Sir Hudson
introduced her to Bonaparte under the name of Caraboo! She described
herself as Princess of Javasu, and related a tale of extraordinary
interest, which seemed in a high degree to delight the captive chief.
He embraced her with every demonstration of enthusiastic rapture, and
besought Sir Hudson that she might be allowed an apartment in his
house, declaring that she alone was an adequate solace in his captivity.
"Sir Hudson subjoins: 'The familiar acquaintance with the Malay tongue
possessed by this most extraordinary personage (and there are many on
the island who understand that language), together with the knowledge
she displays of the Indian and Chinese politics, and the eagerness with
which she speaks of these subjects, appear to convince every one that
she is no impostor. Her manner is noble and fascinating in a wonderful
degree.'
"A private letter adds the following testimony to the above statement,
'Since the arrival of this lady, her manners, and I may say the
countenance and figure of Bonaparte appear to be wholly altered. From
being reserved and dejected, he has become gay and communicative. No
more complaints are heard about inconveniences at Longwood. He has
intimated to Sir Hudson his determination to apply to the Pope for
a dispensation to dissolve his marriage with Maria Louisa, and to
sanction his indissoluble union with the enchanting Caraboo.'"
However, corroboration of this strange story is wanting.
Fat Folks.--Lambert and Bright.
About the centre of the new burial-ground of St. Martin's Stamford
Baron, is a black slate inscribed with gilt letters to the memory of
that immense mass of mortality, Daniel Lambert, the most popularly
known of "Fat Folks."
"Altus in animo, in Corpore Maximus.
In remembrance of that prodigy in nature,
Daniel Lambert, a native of Leicester,
Who was possessed of an exalted and convivial mind;
and, in personal greatness had no competitor.
He measured 3 ft. 1 in. round the leg;
and weighed 52 st. 11 lbs.!
He departed this life on the 21st June, 1809,
aged 39 years.
As a testimony of respect, this
Stone is erected by his friends in Leicester."
Daniel Lambert was born on the 13th of March, 1770, at Leicester. His
parents were not persons of remarkable dimensions: but he had an uncle
and aunt on the father's side who were both very heavy.
At the age of 19, young Lambert began to imagine that he should be
a heavy man. He possessed extraordinary muscular power, and at the
above age could lift great weights, and carry five-hundred weight with
ease. He succeeded his father in the office of keeper of the prison
at Leicester, within a year after which his bulk began rapidly to
increase, owing to his confinement and sedentary life. Though he never
possessed any extraordinary agility, he was able to kick to the height
of seven feet, standing on one leg.
About the year 1793, when Lambert weighed 32 stone, he walked from
Woolwich to London, with much less apparent fatigue than several
middle-sized men who were his companions. Upon this Mr. Wadd remarks:
"It is clear, therefore, that he was a strong, active man, and
continued so after the disease had made great progress; and I think it
may fairly be inferred that he would not have fallen a sacrifice so
early in life, if he had possessed fortitude enough to meet the evil,
and to have opposed it with determined perseverance."
Lambert was very expert in swimming, and taught hundreds of the young
people of Leicester. His power of floating, owing to his uncommon
bulk, was so great that he could swim with two men of ordinary size
upon his back. He proved a humane keeper of the prison, and upon his
retirement from the office, the magistrates settled upon him an annuity
of 50_l._ for life, without any solicitation.
He now lived a life of leisure at Leicester, but his uncommon
corpulence brought him many visitors; and he at length found that
he must either submit to be a close prisoner in his own house, or
endure the inconveniences without receiving any of the profits of
an exhibition. He then determined to visit London; and as it was
impossible to procure a carriage large enough to admit him, he had a
vehicle built to convey him to the metropolis, where he arrived in the
spring of 1806, and fixed his abode in Piccadilly. Here he was visited
by much company. Among them was the celebrated Polish dwarf, Count
Boruwlaski, who had before seen Lambert at Birmingham; the little man
exclaimed that he had seen the face twenty years ago, but it was not
surely the same body. In the course of conversation, Lambert asked
what quantity of cloth the Count required for a coat, and how many he
thought his would make him. "Not many," answered Boruwlaski; "I take
good large piece of cloth myself--almost tree-quarters of a yard." At
this rate, one of Lambert's sleeves would have abundantly sufficed for
the purpose. The Count felt one of Mr. Lambert's legs, "Ah, mine Got!"
he exclaimed, "pure flesh and blood; I feel de warm. No deception, I
am pleased, for I did hear it was deception." Mr. Lambert asked if the
Count's lady was alive; to which he replied, "No, she is dead, and I am
not very sorry, for when I affront her, she put me on the mantel-shelf
for punishment."[30]
[30] See portrait of Boruwlaski, page 259.
In September, 1806, Lambert returned to Leicester, but repeated his
visit in the following year, and fixed his abode in Leicester Square.
Here, for the first time, he felt inconvenienced by the atmosphere
of the metropolis; accordingly, by the advice of Dr. Heaviside, his
physician, Lambert returned to his native place. He then made a tour
through the principal cities and towns of England, and proved as
attractive in the provinces as he had formerly been in the metropolis.
He now enjoyed excellent health, and felt perfectly at ease, either
while sitting up or lying in bed. His diet was plain, and the
quantity moderate. For many years he never drank anything stronger
than water. He slept well, but scarcely so much as other persons, and
his respiration was as free as any moderately-sized individual. His
countenance was manly and intelligent; he possessed great information,
much ready politeness, and conversed with ease and facility. He had a
powerful and melodious tenor voice, and his articulation was perfectly
clear and unembarrassed.
Lambert had, however, for some time shown dropsical symptoms. In June
1809, he was weighed at Huntingdon, and by the Caledonian balance was
found to be 52 stone 11 lb. (14 lb. to the stone), 10st. 4lb. heavier
than Bright, the miller of Malden. His measure round the body was three
yards four inches, and one yard one inch round the leg.
A few days after this measurement, on June 20th, he arrived from
Huntingdon, at the Wagon and Horses Inn, St. Martin's, Stamford, where
preparations were made to receive company the next day, and during
Stamford races. He was announced for exhibition; he gave his orders
cheerfully, without any presentiment that they were to be his last:
he was then in bed, only fatigued from his journey, but anxious to be
able to see company early in the morning. Before nine o'clock however,
the day following, he was a corpse! He died in his apartment on the
ground-floor of the inn, for he had long been incapable of walking
up-stairs.
His interment was an arduous labour. His coffin measured six feet
four inches long, four feet four inches wide, and two feet four inches
deep, and contained one hundred and twelve superficial feet of elm. It
was built upon two axletrees and four wheels; the room-door and wall
of the room in which he lay were taken down to allow of his exit, and
thus his remains were drawn to the place of interment at St. Martin's,
Stamford. His grave was dug with a gradual slope for several yards; and
upwards of twenty men were employed for nearly half-an-hour in getting
the massive corpse into its resting-place: the immense substance of the
legs made the coffin, of necessity, at most a square case. The funeral
was attended by thousands of persons from Stamford and the country many
miles round.
At the Wagon and Horses Inn were preserved two suits of Lambert's
clothes: seven ordinarily-sized men were repeatedly enclosed within his
waistcoat, without breaking a stitch or straining a button; each suit
of clothes cost 20_l._ His name was remembered for a time as a tavern
sign: one on the north side of Ludgate Street remained till within a
few years.
The great weight of Edward Bright, the miller of Malden, has been
incidentally mentioned. He died on November 10th, 1750, at the age of
30. He was an active man till within a year or two of his death; when
his corpulency so overpowered his strength, that his life was a burthen
to him; yet, as we have seen, he was ten stone four pounds lighter than
Lambert. Mr. Wadd says it is supposed that Bright's weight at his death
was forty-four stone, or 616 pounds.
Horace Walpole relates the following story of Bright's weight backed
against that of the Duke of Cumberland:--"There has been a droll cause
in Westminster Hall: a man laid another a wager that he produced a
person who should weigh as much again as the Duke. When they had
betted, they recollected not knowing how to desire the Duke to step
into the scale. They agreed to establish his weight at twenty stone,
which, however, is supposed to be two more than he weighs. One
Bright was then produced, who is since dead, and who actually weighed
forty-two stone and a half. As soon as he was dead, the person who had
lost objected that he had been weighed in his clothes, and though it
was impossible to suppose that his clothes could weigh above two stone,
they went to law. There were the Duke's twenty stone bawled over a
thousand times,--but the righteous law decided against the man who had
won!"
Bright, when twelve years old, weighed one hundred and forty-four
pounds; and there was another boy in Malden at the same time, fourteen
years of age, who weighed as much.