the English made overtures for a termination of the war which had been
commenced by his father; but flushed by the possession of a large
army, a well-filled treasury, a passion for war, and an inordinate
sense of his own importance, Tippoo refused all terms of pacification,
and left the English no alternative but to battle against him as they
could. Lord Macartney, who was at that time the Governor of Madras,
on becoming acquainted with the determination of Tippoo, resolved to
prosecute hostilities with the greatest vigour, and having placed Col.
Fullerton at the head of his force, he provided him with an army,
collected from various parts, of 16,000 good troops, and afforded that
excellent officer all available assistance in carrying the war into
Tippoo's territory. Fullerton laid his plans with considerable skill;
he encouraged the natives to bring and sell provisions to him on his
march, effectually checked devastation and plundering, scrupulously
respected the religious opinions of the Hindus, consolidated and
improved the mode of march, and availed himself of the subtle cunning
and nimble feet of the natives to establish a remarkably complete
courier-system, whereby he could receive and communicate intelligence
with a rapidity never before attained by any European officer in
India. He had to choose between two systems of strategy--either to
march through the Mysore territory, and frustrate Tippoo in his
siege of Mangalore; or boldly to attack Seringapatam, in order to
compel Tippoo to leave Mangalore as a means of defending his own
capital. The colonel decided on the adoption of the latter course, as
promising more fruitful results. Being at Daraporam, 200 miles south
of Seringapatam, Fullerton resolved to divert the route, and take a
circuit nearer the western coast, where the capture of the strong
fort of Palagatcherry would afford him a valuable intermediate depot,
commanding one of the chief roads from the Malabar to the Coromandel
coasts. On the 18th of October he started. After capturing a few small
forts, he ascended to high ground, where dense forests, deep ravines,
and tortuous water courses embarrassed every yard of his progress:
to fill up the ravines before he could drag his artillery over them,
to throw trees across them where the depth was too great for filling
up, to clear gaps through forests with the axe, to contend against
tremendous rains--were only part of the difficulties he had to meet;
but he met them like a skilful commander, reached Palagatcherry on
the 5th of November, and captured the fort on the 15th, obtaining
with it a welcome supply of money, grain, guns, powder, shot, and
military stores. When the difficulties which Colonel Fullerton had
to encounter, and the triumphant manner in which he overcame them,
are taken into consideration, it will be readily admitted, we think,
that his enterprise is well deserving of being recorded as a striking
example of what may be accomplished by a union of professional skill
and invincible energy. Our engraving represents one of the devices
which Colonel Fullerton employed for the purpose of enabling his forces
to pass over a mountain torrent.
[Illustration: [++] Bridge over Mountain Torrent.]
STORMING OF THE BASTILLE AT PARIS.
[Illustration: [++] The Bastille.]
The great Revolution in France, at the close of the last century, was
full of wonderful events, many of which might be appropriately recorded
in our pages. One of the most striking among them was the storming and
capture of the Bastille, a vast state-prison which was begun to be
built in 1369 by Charles V., and finished by his successor in 1383.
The demolition of this fortress was the first triumph of the armed
populace of Paris, and it rendered the progress of the revolution
irresistible. As the day closed in on the evening of Monday, the 14th
of July, 1789, a reckless multitude of rioters, after seizing 30,000
muskets and several pieces of artillery at the Hotel des Invalides,
rushed in wild excitement to the Bastille, rendered hateful to the
people by the political imprisonment of many hapless men in past times,
although less frequently applied to similar purposes under the milder
rule of Louis XVI. An armed mob of at least 100,000 men, aided by
troops who joined them in whole regiments at a time, had not long to
contend against the old fortress. The governor, De Launay, made such a
defence as a brave officer might at such a juncture; but his few troops
were bewildered and wavering; he received orders from the Hotel de
Ville which he knew not whether to obey or resist, but no instructions
from the court or the ministers; and the military aid to the mob became
stronger than any force he could bring to bear against them. The chains
of three drawbridges were broken by hatchets; straw, wood, oil, and
turpentine were brought and kindled, to burn down the gates; and after
many volleys from the mob had been answered by a few from the fortress,
De Launay, seeing no hope of succour, resolved to blow up the place
rather than yield. In this he was prevented by the Swiss guards, who
formed a part of the small garrison, and who, after a parley with
the insurgents, opened the gates, and surrendered. The Bastille was
taken. The ruffians, heeding nothing but their own furious passions,
disregarded the honourable rules of capitulation; they beheaded De
Launay in a clumsy and barbarous manner, and putting his head on a
spike, carried it through the streets shouting, laughing, and singing;
they were prevented only by an accidental interruption from burning
alive a young lady whom they found in one of the court-yards; they
hung or maltreated many of the Swiss and invalid soldiers; and they
fearfully hacked the bodies of three or four officers in the endeavour
to decapitate them. The prisoners within, only seven in number, were
liberated, and treated with a drunken revel; while the Chatelet and
other prisons became scenes of renewed disorders. The sketch which we
give above, of the attack on the Bastille, is taken from a medallion by
Andrieu.
DURATION OF LIFE AMONG ARTISTS.
In Gould's Dictionary of Artists, published in 1839, the names, with
the ages, of 1,122 persons are given; which furnish the following
remarkable facts as to the longevity of this class of men. Died under
60 years old, 474; 60 years and under 70, 250; 70 years and under 80,
243; 80 years and under 90, 134; 90 years and under 100, 19; above 100,
1. The mean age at death of the whole number being 55 years; from which
it would appear that the pursuit of the fine arts has a tranquilizing
effect upon the spirits, and a tendency to moral refinement in the
habits and manners of its professors extremely favourable to the
prolongation of life.
CHANGE IN THE VALUE OF LAND.
At Brighton, within the present century, a spot of ground was offered
to a hair-dresser in fee, upon condition of shaving the possessor for
life. The terms were declined, and the land soon became of immense
value.
UNACCOUNTABLE ANTIPATHIES.
The following are a few of the more striking manifestations of that
unaccountable feeling of antipathy to certain objects, to which so many
persons are subject, and with instances of which--in a modified form
perhaps--most people are acquainted with:--
Erasmus, though a native of Rotterdam, had such an aversion to fish,
that the smell of it threw him into a fever.
Ambrose Pare mentions a gentleman, who never could see an eel without
fainting.
There is an account of another gentleman, who would fall into
convulsions at the sight of a carp.
A lady, a native of France, always fainted on seeing boiled lobsters.
Other persons from the same country experienced the same inconvenience
from the smell of roses, though they were particularly partial to the
odour of jonquils or tuberoses.
Joseph Scaliger and Peter Abono never could drink milk.
Cardan was particularly disgusted at the sight of eggs.
Uladislaus, king of Poland, could not bear to see apples.
If an apple was shown to Chesne, secretary to Francis I., he bled at
the nose.
A gentleman, in the court of the emperor Ferdinand, would bleed at the
nose on hearing the mewing of a cat, however great the distance might
be from him.
Henry III. of France could never sit in a room with a cat.
The Duke of Schomberg had the same aversion.
M. de Lancre gives an account of a very sensible man, who was so
terrified at seeing a hedgehog, that for two years he imagined his
bowels were gnawed by such an animal.
The same author was intimate with a very brave officer, who was so
terrified at the sight of a mouse, that he never dared to look at one
unless he had his sword in his hand.
M. Vangheim, a great huntsman in Hanover, would faint, or, if he had
sufficient time, would run away at the sight of a roasted pig.
John Rol, a gentleman in Alcantara, would swoon on hearing the word
_lana_, wool, pronounced, although his cloak was woollen.
The philosophical Boyle could not conquer a strong aversion to the
sound of water running through a pipe.
La Mothe le Vayer could not endure the sound of musical instruments,
though he experienced a lively pleasure whenever it thundered.
The author of the Turkish Spy tells us that he would rather encounter
a lion in the deserts of Arabia, provided he had but a sword in his
hand, than feel a spider crawling on him in the dark. He observes, that
there is no reason to be given for these secret dislikes. He humorously
attributes them to the doctrine of the transmigration of the soul; and
as regarded himself, he supposed he had been a fly, before he came into
his body, and that having been frequently persecuted with spiders, he
still retained the dread of his old enemy.
LONDON RESORTS A HUNDRED YEARS AGO.
In addition to the regular theatres, there were many places of
amusement, such as the Vauxhall and Ranelagh Gardens, the site of the
latter being now occupied by the houses that hem in Chelsea College;
the Rotunda, famous for its music, its gardens, and its piece of water;
Bell-size House and Gardens on the Hampstead Road, where tea, coffee,
and other refreshments could be had, together with music, from seven in
the morning,--with the advantage of having the road to London patrolled
during the season by twelve "lusty fellows," and of being able to ride
to Hampstead by coach for sixpence a-head; Perrot's inimitable grotto,
which could be seen by calling for a pot of beer; Jenny's Whim, at the
end of Chelsea Bridge, where "the royal diversion of duck-hunting"
could be enjoyed, "together with a decanter of _Dorchester_" for
sixpence; Cuper's Gardens, in Lambeth, nearly opposite Somerset House,
through which the Waterloo Road was ruthlessly driven; the Marble
Hall, at Vauxhall, where an excellent breakfast was offered for one
shilling; Sadler's Wells, celebrated both for its aquatic and its
wire-dancing attractions; the Floating Coffee-House, on the river
Thames, the Folly House at Blackwall, Marybone Gardens, the White
Conduit House, and a multitude of others, to enumerate which would be
tedious and unprofitable. On Sunday, we are told, the "snobocracy,"
amused themselves by thrusting their heads into the pillory at Georgia,
by being sworn at Highgate, or rolling down Flamstead Hill in Greenwich
Park. Some regaled their wives and families with buns at Chelsea and
Paddington; others indulged in copious draughts of cyder at the Castle
in the pleasant village of Islington; while the undomestic cit, in
claret-coloured coat and white satin vest, sipped his beer and smoked
his pipe at Mile End, or at the "Adam and Eve" in Pancras, or "Mother
Red Cap's" at Camden.
QUEEN ELIZABETH'S STATE COACH.
[Illustration: [++] Queen Elizabeth's State Coach.]
The accompanying engraving is taken from a very old print representing
the state procession of Queen Elizabeth on her way to open Parliament
on 2nd April, 1571. This was the first occasion on which a state coach
had ever been used by a Sovereign of England, and it was the only
vehicle in the procession; the Lord Keeper, and the Lords Spiritual and
Temporal, all attending on horseback. It was drawn by two palfreys,
which were decked with trappings of crimson velvet; and, according
to an old authority, the name of the driver was William Boonen, a
Dutchman, who thus became the first state coachman.
THE ORIGIN OF EATING GOOSE ON MICHAELMAS DAY.
Queen Elizabeth, on her way to Tilbury Fort on the 29th of September,
1589, dined at the ancient seat of Sir Neville Umfreville, near that
place; and as British Bess had much rather dine off a high-seasoned
and substantial dish than a simple fricassee or ragout, the knight
thought proper to provide a brace of fine geese, to suit the palate
of his royal guest. After the Queen had dined heartily, she asked for
a half-pint bumper of Burgundy, and drank "Destruction to the Spanish
Armada." She had but that moment returned the glass to the knight who
had done the honours of the table, when the news came (as if the Queen
had been possessed with the spirit of prophecy) that the Spanish fleet
had been destroyed by a storm. She immediately took another bumper,
in order to digest the goose and good news; and was so much pleased
with the event, that she every year after, on that day, had the above
excellent dish served up. The Court made it a custom, and the people
the same, ever since.
PRE-ADAMITE BONE CAVERNS.
Among the wonders of the world, the bone caves of the pre-Adamite
period deserve a prominent place. It is to this period that the
extensive remains of Mammiferae found in the strata of the Pampas
of Buenos Ayres, and in the caverns which are scattered in such
vast numbers over the continents of Europe and America, and even in
Australia, are to be ascribed. We regret that we can find room for a
description of only one of these caverns, but it is a most extensive
one, and among the first which attracted attention. It is situated
at Baylenreuth, in Franconia, and the engraving which we here give
represents a section of it.
[Illustration: [++] Pre-Adamite Bone Cavern.]
The entrance of this cave, about seven feet in height, is placed on
the face of a perpendicular rock, and leads to a series of chambers
from fifteen to twenty feet in height, and several hundred feet in
extent, in a deep chasm. The cavern is perfectly dark, and the icicles
and pillars of stalactite reflected by the torches present a highly
picturesque effect. The floor is literally paved with bones and fossil
teeth, and the pillars and corbels of stalactite also contain osseous
remains. Cuvier showed that three-fourths of the remains in this and
like caverns were those of bears, the remainder consisting of bones of
hyenas, tigers, wolves, foxes, gluttons, weasels, and other Carnivora.
HOW DISTANT AGES ARE CONNECTED BY INDIVIDUALS.
Mr. Robert Chambers, in a curious and interesting chapter in the
"Edinburgh Journal," entitled "Distant Ages connected by Individuals,"
states, in 1847, "There is living, in the vicinity of Aberdeen, a
gentleman who can boast personal acquaintance with an individual who
had seen and conversed with another who actually had been present at
the battle of Flodden Field!" Marvellous as this may appear, it is not
the less true. The gentleman to whom allusion is made was personally
acquainted with the celebrated Peter Garden, of Auchterless, who died
in 1775, at the reputed age of 131, although there is reason to believe
that he was several years older. Peter, in his young days, was servant
to Garden, of Troup, whom he accompanied on a journey through the north
of England, where he saw and conversed with the famous Henry Jenkins,
who died 1670, at the age of 169. Jenkins was born in 1501, and was of
course twelve years old at the period of the battle of Flodden Field;
and, on that memorable occasion, bore arrows to an English nobleman
whom he served in the capacity of page. "When we think of such things,"
adds Mr. Chambers, "the ordinary laws of nature seem to have undergone
some partial relaxation; and the dust of ancient times almost becomes
living flesh before our eyes."
THE EARTHQUAKE AT LISBON.
On the 1st of November, 1755, a few minutes before 10 a.m. the
inhabitants of Lisbon were alarmed by several violent vibrations of
the ground which then rose and fell several times with such force that
hundreds of houses came toppling into the streets, crushing thousands
of people. At the same time the air grew pitchy dark from the clouds of
dust that rose from the crumbling edifices. Many persons ran down to
the river side, in the hope of escaping to the shipping; but the water
suddenly rose some yards perpendicularly, and swept away everything
before it. The quay, with nearly 200 human beings standing on it,
all at once disappeared. Large ships, which were lying high and dry,
floated off, and were dashed against each other or carried down the
river. In every direction the surface of the water was overspread with
boats, timber, casks, household furniture and corpses. The scene on
dry land was yet more horrifying. Churches, government buildings, and
private houses, were all involved in the same ruin. Many thousands
of trembling fugitives had collected in the great square, when it
was discovered that flames were spreading in every quarter. Taking
advantage of the universal panic and confusion, a band of miscreants
had fired the city. Nothing could be done to stay the progress of
the flames, and for eight days they raged unchecked. Whatever the
earthquake had spared fell a prey to this new calamity. "It is not to
be expressed by human tongue," writes an eye-witness, "how dreadful
and how awful it was to enter the city after the fire was abated; and
looking upwards, one was struck with horror in beholding dead bodies,
by six or seven in a heap, crushed to death, half buried and half
burnt; and if one went through the broad places or squares, nothing was
to be met with but people bewailing their misfortunes, wringing their
hands, and crying, 'The world is at an end.' If you go out of the city,
you behold nothing but barracks, or tents made with canvass or ship's
sails, where the poor inhabitants lye."
Another eye-witness is still more graphic. "The terror of the people
was beyond description: nobody wept,--it was beyond tears;--they ran
hither and thither, delirious with horror and astonishment--beating
their faces and breasts--crying '_Misericordia_, the world's at
an end;' mothers forgot their children, and ran about loaded with
crucifixed images. Unfortunately, many ran to the churches for
protection; but in vain was the sacrament exposed; in vain did the poor
creatures embrace the altars; images, priests, and people, were buried
in one common ruin. * * * The prospect of the city was deplorable.
As you passed along the streets you saw shops of goods with the
shopkeepers buried with them, some alive crying out from under the
ruins, others half buried, others with broken limbs, in vain begging
for help; they were passed by crowds without the least notice or sense
of humanity. The people lay that night in the fields, which equalled,
if possible, the horrors of the day; the city all in flames; and if
you happened to forget yourself with sleep, you were awakened by the
tremblings of the earth and the howlings of the people. Yet the moon
shone, and the stars, with unusual brightness. Long wished-for day at
last appeared, and the sun rose with great splendour on the desolated
city. In the morning, some of the boldest, whose houses were not burnt,
ventured home for clothes, the want of which they had severely felt in
the night, and a blanket was now become of more value than a suit of
silk."
STRANGE CURE FOR RHEUMATISM.
Bridget Behan, of Castle-waller, in the county of Wicklow, Ireland,
retained the use of all her powers of body and mind to the close of
her long life, 110 years, in 1807. About six years preceding her death
she fell down stairs, and broke one of her thighs. Contrary to all
expectation, she not only recovered from the effects of the accident,
but actually, from thence, walked stronger on this leg, which,
previously to the accident, had been a little failing, than she had
done for many years before. Another remarkable circumstance relating
to this fracture was, that she became perfectly cured of a chronic
rheumatism of long standing, and from which on particular occasions she
had suffered a good deal of affliction. A short while before her death
she cut a new tooth.
SILVER TEA SERVICE WHICH BELONGED TO WILLIAM PENN.
[Illustration: [++] Silver Tea Service.]
Articles of ordinary use, however small may be their intrinsic value,
which have once been the property of men who have been good and
great--how rare the conjunction!--are always invested with a peculiar
interest. They often afford a clue to the tastes of those who once
possessed them. On this account we have great pleasure in laying
before our readers a representation of the silver tea-service which
belonged to the celebrated William Penn, the founder and legislator
of Pennsylvania, whom Montesquieu denominates the modern Lycurgus.
He was the son of Admiral Penn, was born at London in 1644, and was
educated at Christchurch, Oxford. At college he imbibed the principles
of Quakerism, and having endeavoured to disseminate them by preaching
in public, he was thrice thrown into prison. It was during his first
imprisonment that he wrote "_No Cross, no Crown_." In March, 1680-81,
he obtained from Charles II. the grant of that territory which now
bears the name of Pennsylvania. In 1682 he embarked for his new
colony; and in the following year he founded Philadelphia. He returned
to England in 1684, and died in July, 1718. He was a philosopher, a
legislator, an author, the friend of man, and, above all, a pious
Christian. In addition to the reasons above given, the sketch of
the tea-service is an object of curiosity, as showing the state of
silversmith's work in England, at the close of the seventeenth century,
for articles of domestic use.
CURIOUS FIGURES ON A SMALL SHRINE.
[Illustration: [++] Soldiers Watching the Body of Our Lord.]
The figures here given are copied from a curious little bronze,
strongly gilt, which was engraved in the "Gentleman's Magazine" for
1833, accompanied with a description, by A. J. Kempe, Esq., the author
of the letterpress to "Stothard's Monumental Effigies," whose intimate
knowledge in these matters enables him to well authenticate dates; and
he considers this relic may safely be attributed to the early part of
the twelfth century; it was discovered in the Temple Church, and had
originally formed a portion of a pyx, or small shrine, in which the
consecrated host was kept. Our engraving is more than half the size of
the original, which represents the soldiers watching the body of Our
Lord, who was, in mystical form, supposed to be enshrined in the pyx.
They wear scull-caps of the Phrygian form, with the nasal like those in
the Bayeux Tapestry; and the mailles or rings of the hauberk appear,
as in the armour there, sewn down, perhaps, on a sort of gambeson, but
not interlaced. They bear kite-shaped shields, raised to an obtuse
angle in the centre, and having large projecting bosses: the third of
these figures is represented beside the cut in profile, which will
enable the reader more clearly to detect its peculiarities. On two of
these shields are some approaches to armorial bearings; the first is
marked with four narrow bendlets; the second is fretted, the frets
being repeated in front of his helmet, or _chapelle de fer_: all the
helmets have the nasal. A long tunic, bordered, and in one instance
ornamented with cross-lines, or chequered, appears beneath the tunic.
The sword is very broad, and the spear carried by the first figure,
obtuse in the head,--a mark of its antiquity. The shoes are admirable
illustrations of that passage of Geoffry of Malmesbury, where,
representing the luxury of costume in which the English indulged at the
time when Henry I. began his reign, he says: "Then was there flowing
hair, and extravagant dress; and then was invented the fashion of shoes
with curved points: then the model for young men was to rival women in
delicacy of person, to mimic their gait, to walk with loose gesture,
half-naked." The curvature of the points of the shoes in the little
relic before us, in conformity with the custom censured by Malmesbury,
is quite remarkable. One turns up, another down; one to the left,
another to the right; and scarcely any two in the same direction.
THE QUEEN'S SHARKS.
The harbour of Trincomalee swarms with gigantic sharks, and strange to
relate, they are all under British protection; and if any one is found
molesting or injuring them, the fine is L10, or an imprisonment! How
this ridiculous custom originated, it is hard to say; but we are told,
that in the early days of British conquest in the East, sailors were
apt to desert, and seek refuge in the then inaccessible wilds of the
interior; and of later years, when civilisation has unbarred the gates
of Cingalese commerce to all nations of the world, the soldiers of
the regiment stationed at Trincomalee, discontented with their lot in
life, were wont to escape from the thraldom of the service, by swimming
off to American and other foreign vessels, preferring chance, under a
strange flag, to a hard certainty under their own. Thus the Queen's
sharks are duly protected as a sort of water-police for the prevention
of desertion both from the army and navy.
OLD VERSES ON QUEEN ELIZABETH.