but lived to a great age, which is remarkable among persons of this
class. This was James Mansfield, a butcher, who died at the village of
Debden, on November 9th, 1862, in his 82nd year. Though not above the
ordinary height, he measured nine feet round and weighed thirty-three
stone. When sitting in his chair, made especially for his use, his
abdomen covered his knees and hung down almost to the ground. When he
lay down, it was necessary to pack his head to prevent suffocation: he
could only lie upon one side. He was exhibited, in 1851, in Leicester
Square, as "the greatest man in the world." In a suit of his clothes
four ordinarily-sized men might be comfortably buttoned up. Mansfield,
just before his death, was a hale old man, of good constitution, and a
sanguine and happy temperament.
Corpulency naturally subjects its bearers to some of
"The thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to."
Among these inconveniences is the absolute prohibition from
horsemanship, and the difficulty of transportation from place to place,
which may be illustrated by the following anecdotes, related by Mr.
Wadd, in _Brande's Journal_, 1828:--
Mr. B.----, of Bath, a remarkably large, corpulent, and powerful man,
wanting to go by the mail, tried for a place a short time before it
started. Being told it was full, he still determined to get admission,
and opening the door, which no one near him ventured to oppose, he got
in. When the other passengers came, the ostler reported that there was
a gentleman in the coach; he was requested to come out, but having
drawn up the blind, he remained quiet. Hearing, however, a consultation
on the means of making him alight, and a proposal to "pull him out,"
he let down the blind, and laying his enormous hand on the edge of
the door, he asked, who would dare to pull him out, drew up the blind
again, and waiting some time, fell asleep. About one in the morning he
awoke, and calling out to know whereabout he was on the journey, he
perceived, what was the fact, that to end the altercation with him, the
horses had been put to another coach, and that he had spent the night
at the inn-door at Bath, where he had taken possession of the carriage.
A similar occurrence took place at Huddersfield. A gentleman went to a
proprietor of one of the coaches to take a place for Manchester, but
owing to the enormous size of his person he was refused, unless he
would consent to be taken as lumber, at 9_d._ per stone, hinting at the
same time the advantage of being split in two. The gentleman was not to
be disheartened by this disappointment, but adopted the plan of sending
the ostler of one of the inns to take a place for him, which he did,
and in the morning wisely took the precaution by fixing himself in the
coach, with the assistance of the bystanders, from whence he was not
to be removed easily. There placed, he was taken to his destination.
The consequence was, on his return he was necessitated to adopt a
similar process, to the no small disappointment of the proprietors,
who were compelled to convey three gentlemen who had previously taken
their places in a chaise, as there was no room beside this importunate
passenger, who weighed about thirty-six stone.
A Cure for Corpulence.
In 1863, a philanthropist laid before the public the narrative of a man
who was tremendously fat, who tried hard for years to thin himself, and
who at last succeeded. Mr. Banting, the gentleman who had the courage
and good feeling to write and publish this narrative, not long before,
measured 5ft. 5in., and weighed about 14-1/4 stone. He owns that he had
a great deal to bear from his unfortunate make. In the first place,
the little boys in the streets laughed at him; in the next place, he
could not tie his own shoes; and, lastly, he had, it appears, to come
down-stairs backwards. But he was a man who struggled gallantly, and
whatever he was recommended to do, he honestly tried to carry out. He
drank mineral waters, and consulted physicians, and took sweet counsel
with innumerable friends, but all was in vain. He lived upon sixpence
a-day, and earned it, so that the favourite recipe of Abernethy failed
in his case. He went into all sorts of vapour baths and shampooing
baths. He took no less than ninety Turkish baths, but nothing did
him any good; he was still as fat as ever. A kind friend recommended
increased bodily exertion every morning, and nothing seemed more likely
to be effectual than rowing. So this stout warrior with fat got daily
into a good, safe, heavy boat, and rowed a couple of hours. But he was
only pouring water into the bucket of the Danaides. What he gained in
one way he lost in another. His muscular vigour increased; but then,
with this there came a prodigious appetite which he felt compelled
to indulge, and consequently he got fatter than he had been. At last
he hit upon the right adviser, who told him what to do, and whose
advice was so successful that Mr. Banting could soon walk down-stairs
forwards, put his old clothes quite over the suit that now fitted him,
and, far from being made the victim of unkind or ill-judged chaff, was
universally congratulated on his pleasant and becoming appearance. The
machinery by which this change was effected was of a very simple kind.
He was told to leave off eating anything but meat. It appears that
none of his numerous friendly advisers, and none of the physicians he
consulted, penetrated so far into the secresy of his domestic habits
as to have discovered that twice a day he used formerly to indulge in
bowls of bread and milk. The Solomon who saved him cut off this great
feeder of fat, and since then Mr. Banting has been a thinner and a
happier man.--_Abridged from the Saturday Review._
Epitaphs on Fat Folks.
In the year 1755, died the great tallow-chandler whose life and death
are thus laconically recorded on his tombstone:--
Here lies in earth an honest fellow,
Who died by fat, and lived by tallow.
Another corpulent person is thus lamented:--
Here lies the body of Thomas Dollman,
A vastly _fat_, though not a very tall man;
Full twenty stone he weighed, yet I am told,
His captain thought him worth his weight in gold:
Grim Death, who ne'er to nobody shows favour,
Hurried him off for all his good behaviour;
Regardless of his weight, he bundled him away,
'Fore any one "Jack Robinson" could say.
A moral lesson is given in the following:--
But why he grew so fat i' th' waist,
Now mark ye the true reason,
When other people used to fast,
He feasted in that season.
So now, alas! hath cruel Death
Laid him in his sepulchre.
* * * * *
Therefore, good people, here 'tis seen,
You plainly may see here,
That fat men sooner die than lean,
Witness Fat Johnny Holder.
The son of a Dean, a man of very spare habit, expressing to the son of
a Bishop his astonishment at the great difference of the size of their
fathers, the Bishop being very fat, he explained the reason in the
following extempore parody of the old song:--
There's a difference between
A Bishop and a Dean,
And I'll tell you the reason why:
A Dean cannot dish up
A dinner like a Bishop,
To feed such a fat son as I.
Count Boruwlaski, the Polish Dwarf.
One of the best attested cases of dwarfish existence on record is
that of Joseph Boruwlaski, the Polish dwarf, who was the delight
of our grandfathers, and who, after the age of _seventy_, suddenly
found himself able with his hand to raise the latch of a door which
up to that period he had always raised with a stick. How many inches
he grew is not recorded, but the fact of his growth is sufficiently
astonishing, and is only paradoxical so long as we continue to hold
the general opinion that "men do not grow after reaching maturity,"
whereas, in strict language, we must admit that they _grow_ as long as
they live, but do not normally surpass the standard of maturity; growth
continues, but only to supply the waste, not enough, as in childhood,
to supply the waste and furnish _surplus_ for the increase.
Count Joseph Boruwlaski is, in many respects, the most interesting
dwarf of whom we have accurate records, and he has written his own
memoir to complete our interest. He has given us his height at various
epochs as follows:--
Ft. In.
At one year old he measured 0 11
At three „ „ 1 2
At six „ „ 1 5
At ten „ „ 1 9
At fifteen years old he measured 2 1
At twenty „ „ 2 4
At twenty-five „ „ 2 11
At thirty „ „ 3 3
[Illustration: Count Boruwlaski in disgrace with his wife.]
Here he stopped until he was seventy. He was born at Chaliez, in
Russian Poland, November, 1739, of noble parents, who were richer in
pedigree than in land or money. They were both well formed, healthy,
and of the ordinary size; yet of their six children, three were
dwarfs; and, to add to the singularity, the dwarfs _alternated_ with
well-formed children. Joseph was 8 inches in length when born, yet
perfectly well-formed, and he sucked with infantine success, walking
and talking at about the usual age.
On reaching his ninth year, he lost his father, who left a widow and
six children very ill-provided for. Luckily, a friend of the widow,
a Madame de Caorliz, adopted Joseph, and with her the boy spent four
happy years. His benefactress then married, and this event produced
a change in his fortunes. A dwarf so remarkable was naturally enough
an envied possession; and the Countess Humieska, a very great person
indeed, felt the desire natural in so great a person, to have this
among her curiosities. Domiciled with the great Countess, Joseph began
to taste the splendours and luxuries of courts. They travelled through
Poland, Germany, and France, and everywhere he was the lion of the
hour. At Vienna he was presented to Maria Theresa, who, pleased with
his courtly compliments, kissed him, and complimented the Countess on
her travelling companion. On another occasion, Joseph, in the lap of
the Empress, who had sixteen children of her own, and doted on them,
was looking at the hand in which his own was clasped, and which flashed
light from a ring bearing her cipher in brilliants. She asked him if
he was pleased with the ring; he told her it was the _hand_ he looked
at, and at the same time raised it to his lips. The flattered Empress
insisted on giving him the ring; but alas! it was too large, whereupon
she called to a young lady of about six years old, and taking from her
a fine diamond ring, placed it on Joseph's finger: this young lady was
Marie Antoinette.
From Vienna the travellers proceeded to Munich, and thence, after
countless fêtes, they went to Luneville, the court of Stanislas
Leckzinski, titular King of Poland. Here Joseph met the dwarf Bébé,
of whom Boruwlaski gives this account:--"With this prince (Stanislas)
lived the famous Bébé, till then considered the most extraordinary
dwarf that was ever seen; and who was, indeed, perfectly well
proportioned, and with a pleasant physiognomy, but who (I am sorry to
say it, for the honour of us dwarfs) had all the defects in his mind
and way of thinking which are commonly attributed to us. He was at that
time about thirty,[31] and his height two feet eight inches; and when
measured, it appeared that I was much shorter, being no more than two
feet four inches. At our first interview he showed much fondness for
me; but, on perceiving that I preferred the company and conversation
of sensible people, and above all, when he perceived that the King
took pleasure in my society, he conceived the most violent jealousy
and hatred of me; so that I escaped his fury only by a miracle. One
day, we were both in the apartment of his Majesty, who caressed me, and
asked me several questions, testifying his pleasure and approbation of
my replies in the most affectionate manner. Then addressing Bébé, he
said: 'You see, Bébé, what a difference there is between him and you.
He is amiable, cheerful, entertaining, and instructed, whereas you
are but a little machine.' At these words I saw fury sparkle in his
eyes; he answered nothing, but his countenance and blush proved how
violently he was agitated. A moment after, the King having gone into
his cabinet, Bébé availed himself of the opportunity to execute his
revengeful projects; and slyly approaching, seized me by the waist,
and endeavoured to push me on to the fire. Luckily, I laid hold with
both hands of the iron prop which sustained the tongs and poker, and
thus prevented his wicked intentions. The noise I made in defending
myself brought back the king to my assistance. He afterwards called
the servants, and ordered Bébé corporal punishment. In vain did I
intercede."
[31] Joseph is in error here; Bébé was two years his junior, but
precocity of development made him appear to be thirty, though really
only about seventeen.
On quitting the court of Stanislas, Boruwlaski visited that of
Versailles, where the Queen, the Duke of Orleans, and other
distinguished personages, made as much of him as vanity could desire.
The Count Orginski, finding he had a taste for music, provided him
a master for the guitar. At the table of this nobleman, he one day
allowed himself to be concealed in a large vase, which was placed amid
the dishes, and to which the attention of the guests was directed, till
their curiosity was fairly roused, expecting some rarity surpassing
all the delicacies of the already sumptuous banquet; and then Joseph
suddenly stood up, amid shouts of laughter.
From Paris he went to Holland, and thence back to Poland. His reception
in Warsaw was enthusiastic; and as travel and reading had given polish
to his manners and culture to his intellect, his society became sought
after for something more than mere curiosity. He now attended the
theatre, and became fascinated with the actresses. His first love was
a French actress, who, amused and flattered, pretended to return his
passion, and for a time he was in a delirium of happiness; but an
unlucky discovery of her having talked about his passion with mockery,
cruelly dispelled his brief dream. To be in love with an actress, and
to find that she has been laughing at the passion she has inspired,
and only feigning to return it for some object of her own, is what
many young men have had to experience; but perhaps in none could the
mortification of self-love have been so cruel as in the little dwarf,
who knew the ridicule which must necessarily attend his presumption
in claiming the privilege of a man. But the heart having once known
the bitter-sweet of love, will not long be kept from it; and Joseph
soon fixed his affections on Isolina, a _protégée_ of the Countess
Humieska, who, living under the same roof with him, was much astonished
to observe that he allowed every _other_ lady to take him on her lap
and caress him; she accused him of not liking her, because to her
only he was reserved and shy. Now, he had not forgotten the ridicule
of the French actress: for a whole twelvemonth he continued loving
in silence, in doubt, and in trouble. His health suffered; at last,
passion triumphed over his fears; he declared his love, which the lady
treated as the love of a child. "Really," said she, "you are a child,
and I cannot help laughing at your extravagance." He tried to convince
her that he was no child, and would not be loved like a child; when she
burst out laughing, told him he knew not what he said, and left the
room.
This was a ludicrous situation, but with a tragic aspect; a young and
lively woman receiving a passionate declaration from a being not taller
than a child three or four years old, may be excused if her sense
of the ludicrous prevented her understanding the seriousness of the
passion she inspired. Joseph was hurt, but not altogether dissatisfied.
The secret no longer pressed its uneasy burden on his mind. She knew
of his love; she could now interpret his reserve--his melancholy--his
silent adoration. In time she might be touched. For the first few
days, indeed, there seemed little hope of such an issue. She bantered
him incessantly, and the more he tried to speak to her as a man, the
more she persisted in treating him like a child. The effect of this
was a serious illness; for two months he was in danger. He recovered,
and she, from that time, gave up the dangerous game; and they were
eventually married.
We must now accompany Boruwlaski to England, where he was received by
the Duke and Duchess of Devonshire, and was presented to the King and
Queen, and patronized by the Prince of Wales and the nobility.
Among the remarkable persons whom the Count met was O'Brien, the Irish
giant. "Our surprise," says Boruwlaski, "was mutual--the giant remained
a moment speechless with astonishment, and then stooping half-way, he
presented his hand, which could easily have contained a dozen of mine,
and made me a very pretty compliment." When they stood beside each
other, the giant's knee was nearly on a level with the dwarf's head.
They both resided together some time at an inn at Epping, where they
often walked out together, greatly to the amusement of the townsfolk.
Mathews, the comedian, was a friend and admirer of Boruwlaski, and
contrived to get an interview arranged with George IV. for the
presentation of a copy of the Count's _Memoirs_, published in 1788.
Mathews and his little charge were ushered into the presence of the
sovereign: the King rose and met Boruwlaski, raised him up in his
arms, in a kind embrace, saying, "My dear old friend, how delighted I
am to see you!" and then placed the little man upon a sofa. But the
Count's loyalty not being so satisfied, he descended with the agility
of a schoolboy, and threw himself at his master's feet, who, however,
would not suffer him to remain in that position for a minute, but
raised him again upon the sofa. In the course of the conversation, the
Count, addressing the King in French, was told that his English was
so good it was quite unnecessary to speak in any other language; for
his Majesty, with his usual tact, easily discerned that he should be a
loser in resigning the Count's prettily-broken English, which (as he
always thought in his native language, and literally translated its
idioms) was the most amusing imaginable, and totally distinct from the
imperfect English of other foreigners.... The King, in the course of
conversation, said, "But, Count, you were married when I first knew
you: I hope madame is still alive, and as well as yourself." "Ah, no!
Majesty; Isolina die thirty year! _Fine_ woman! _sweet_, _beauty_ body!
You have no _idea_, Majesty." "I am sorry to hear of her death; such
a charming person must have been a great loss to you, Count." "Dat is
very true, Majesty; _indid, indid_, it was great sorrow for me!" His
Majesty then inquired how old the Count was, and on being told, with
a start of surprise observed, "Count, you are the finest man of your
age I ever saw. I wish you could return the compliment." To which
Boruwlaski, not to be outdone in courtesy, ludicrously replied, "Oh!
Majesty, _fine_ body! _indid, indid_; _beauty_ body!"
The King, on accepting the book which the Count wished to present,
turned to the Marchioness of Conyngham, and took from her a little
case containing a beautiful miniature watch and seals, attached to a
superb chain, the watch exquisitely ornamented with jewels. This the
King begged the Count to accept, saying, as he held the _Memoirs_ in
the other hand, "My dear friend, I shall read and preserve this as long
as I live, for your sake; and in return I request you will wear this
for mine." His Majesty said to Mathews, in the absence of the Count,
"If I had a dozen sons, I could not point out to them a more perfect
model of good breeding and elegance than the Count; he is really a most
accomplished and charming person."
It appears that, by the kindness of friends, Boruwlaski had purchased
an annuity, which secured him independence for the remainder of his
life. Out of this transaction arose a laughable incident. One day he
called at the insurance office with Mr. Mathews, and on being asked how
he was, he replied, with the vivacity of eighteen, "Oh, _never_ better!
_quite_ vel!" and he ran out of the office from the gaze of the aged
insurer, scarcely able to restrain his merriment till he got out of
hearing. He then told Mr. Mathews, during his convulsions of laughter,
that the person they had just seen was the granter of his annuity. "Ha!
ha! ha! O Mattew, I cannot help! Oh _poor devil_, poor _hold_ body! It
_maks me laffing_, poor _hold hanimal_! Oh he say prayer for me die,
often when he _slip_! Oh you may _de_pend--ha! ha! ha! but Boruwlaski
_never_ die! He _calcoolated dat_ dwarf not live it long, _et_ I live
it forty year to _plag_ him. Oh he is in a _hobbel debblishly_! I
_tellee dat_! He fifty year _yonger den_ Boruwlaski; _mintime_ he dead
as soon as me. Oh yes, you may be sure _dat_--_dat_ is my _oppinnon_.
Boruwlaski never die," playfully nodding his little head, "you may
_de_pend." Mr. Mathews asked him if the old man had any family (feeling
some compassion for his hard case), to which the Count cried out, "Oh
he have it _shildren_ twenty, like a pig, poor _devel_! _mintime_ he
_riche_ body! Oh he have it _goold et wast_ many bank _nott_. _Bote_
he have it _greet prepencity_ to keep him fast hold, poor idi_ot_! _It
macks me laffing!_"--(See the _Memoirs of Charles Mathews_, by Mrs.
Mathews.)
To these characteristics we are enabled to add that of an English
letter, written by the Count in his _eighty-ninth_ year, the
handwriting of which is singularly firm and steady, resembling that of
a school boy of about fourteen. We shall copy it _literatim_ from the
autograph letter in the possession of Lord Houghton. It is addressed
to Miss Emma George, at Miss Bird's, Pitt street, Edinburgh, and runs
thus:--
"Dear Emma.--I am a fraid you will think me negligent in not answering
your kind Letter which I received both. which made me delay write
soonere I was en a visite at Newcastle, and I remain rathere to lon.
and with the acceident happing when I burn your Lette in which been
your derection, when I do so after reading, for alwais afraid of aney
mischiefe at homes, what you know my situation, in which I remain to
this day. and increas dayli more and more unhappy. I have maney things
to tell you and you wish to know about me, but I cannot trust to a
Lettere to disclos, and gave you picture of my precise state of my Life
with extended Field, to make description of my trouble but only I may
say truly. That I find myselfe without friend in a Stranger Country.
Yet from the aspect of flattering appearance. I thought aftere a very
fatiging journey in the begonning of my Life, that no kind of vexation
would distourb my present state of happiness at Durham. Upon which my
mind being grounded, in expectation of all feliesity. But here what to
say of my sorrow with astonishment, when I found overeeting, when I
behod now nothing but betterness of heart, and so heavy a Cloud over my
existance in misery. So I have not on friend, but I have wakeful body
who watch all my motion. So I have my share to be partner with you and
support on othere, when we are left to ourself in a Pilgrimage in which
we are engaged so severely. To be sure I feel the disappointments of
my situation. Yet I have experience that I cannot help thinking that it
was well that Providence had blessed me, to alowd me kindly as litll as
it is: Yet to accomodated Dear Emma according to fortune which God gave
me, which Dear Emma will receive next month your 5_l._ I beg Dear Emma
make your selfe happy and not uneasy if some time I delay in answering
your Lettere. Notwithstanding you most know me now to trust me and
have Confidence in me that I ame not Changable nature, but remain, and
believe me, your sincer affectiont, Joseph Boruwlaski.
"_Durham 17 March 1828._"
* * * * *