Winter may be now considered as having s_The Every-day Book and Table Book. v. 2 (of 3) or Everlasting Calendar of Popular Amusements, Sports, Pastimes, Ceremonies, Manners, Customs and Events, Incident to Each of the Three Hundred and Sixty-five Days, in past and Present Times; Forming a Complete History of the Year, Month, and Seasons, and a Perpetual Key to the Almanac

winds about this time, which sweep off the few remaining leaves from the

trees, and, with the exception of a few oaks and beeches, leave the

woods and forests nothing but a naked assemblage of bare boughs.

December, thus robbing the woods of their leafy honours, is alluded to

by Horace, in his Epod. xi.:--

Hic tertius December, ex quo destiti

Inachiâ furere,

Sylvis honorem decutit.

Picture to yourself, gentle reader, one of these blustering nights, when

a tremendous gale from south-west, with rattling rain, threatens almost

the demolition of every thing in its way: but add to the scene the

inside of a snug and secure cottage in the country,--the day closed, the

fire made up and blazing, the curtains drawn over a barricadoing of

window-shutters which defy the penetration of Æolus and all his

excarcerated host; the table set for tea, and the hissing urn or the

kettle scarce heard among the fierce whistling, howling, and roaring,

produced alternately or together, by almost every species of sound that

wind can produce, in the chimneys and door crannies of the house. There

is a feeling of comfort, and a sensibility to the blessings of a good

roof over one’s head, and a warm and comfortable hearth, while all is

tempest without, that produces a peculiar but real source of pleasure. A

cheerful but quiet party adds, in no small degree, to this pleasure. Two

or three intelligent friends sitting up over a good fire to a late hour,

and interchanging their thoughts on a thousand subjects of mystery,--the

stories of ghosts--and the tales of olden times,--may perhaps beguile

the hours of such a stormy night like this, with more satisfaction than

they could a midsummer evening under the shade of trees in a garden of

roses and lilies. And then, when we retire to bed in a room with thick,

woollen curtains closely drawn, and a fire in the room, how sweet a

lullaby is the piping of the gale down the flues, and the peppering of

the rain on the tiles and windows; while we are now and then rocked in

the house as if in a cradle![520]

_For the Every-Day Book._

DECEMBER MUSINGS.

SONNET STANZAS.

Ανεμων πνεοντων την ηχω προσκυνει.

PYTHAGORAS

_Quam juvat immites ventos audire cubantem--

Aut, gelidas hybernus aquas cum fuderit auster,

Securem somnos, imbre juvante, sequi!_

TIBULLUS.

I love to hear the high winds pipe aloud,

When ’gainst the leafy nations up in arms;

Now screaming in their rage, now shouting, proud--

Then moaning, as in pain at war’s alarms:

Then softly sobbing to unquiet rest,

Then wildly, harshly, breaking forth again

As if in scorn at having been represt,

With marching sweep careering o’er the plain

And, oh! I love to hear the gusty shower

Against my humble casement, pattering fast,

While shakes the portal of my quiet bower;

For then I envy not the noble’s tower,

Nor, while my cot thus braves the storm and blast,

Wish I the tumult of the heavens past.

Yet wherefore joy I in the loud uproar

Does still life cloy? has peace no charms for me?

Pleases calm nook and ancient home no more,

But do I long for wild variety?

Ah! no;--the noise of elements at jar,

That bids the slumbers of the worldling close,

Lone nature’s child does not thy visions mar,

It does but soothe thee to more sure repose!

I sigh not for variety nor power,

My cot, like castled hall, can brave the storm;

Therefore I joy to list the sweepy shower,

And piping winds, at home, secure and warm:

While soft to heaven my orisons are sent,

In grateful thanks for its best boon, CONTENT!

W. T. M.[521]

THE SEASON.

The gloominess of the weather, and its frequently fatal influence on the

mind, suggest the expediency of inserting the following:--

DISSUASIONS FROM DESPONDENCY.

1. If you are distressed in mind, _live_; serenity and joy may yet

dawn upon your soul.

2. If you have been contented and cheerful, _live_; and generally

diffuse that happiness to others.

3. If misfortunes have befallen you by your own misconduct, _live_;

and be wiser for the future.

4. If things have befallen you by the faults of others, _live_; you

have nothing wherewith to reproach yourself.

5. If you are indigent and helpless, _live_; the face of things may

agreeably change.

6. If your are rich and prosperous, _live_; and enjoy what you

possess.

7. If another hath injured you, _live_; his own crime will be his

punishment.

8. If you have injured another, _live_; and recompence it by your good

offices.

9. If your character be attacked unjustly, _live_; time will remove

the aspersion.

10. If the reproaches are well founded, _live_; and deserve them not

for the future.

11. If you are already eminent and applauded, _live_; and preserve the

honours you have acquired.

12. If your success is not equal to your merit, _live_; in the

consciousness of having deserved it.

13. If your success hath exceeded your merit, _live_; and arrogate not

too much to yourself.

14. If you have been negligent and useless to society, _live_; and

make amends by your future conduct.

15. If you have been active and industrious, _live_; and communicate

your improvements to others.

16. If you have spiteful enemies, _live_; and disappoint their

malevolence.

17. If you have kind and faithful friends, _live_; to protect them.

18. If hitherto you have been impious and wicked, _live_; and repent

of your sins.

19. If you have been wise and virtuous, _live_; for the future benefit

of mankind.--And lastly,

20. If you hope for immortality, _live_; and prepare to enjoy it.

These “DISSUASIONS” are ascribed to the pen of a popular and amiable

poet.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 40·17.

[520] Perennial Calendar, Dec. 2.

[521] These stanzas are very little more than an amplification of the

well known lines of Lucretius,

_Suave mari magno turbantibus æquora ventis,

E terrâ magnum alterius spectare laborem._

Cicero has expressed the same sentiment in his “De Natura;” see also

lord Bacon and Rochefoucau amongst the moderns.

W. T. M

~December 3.~

1826. Advent Sunday.

CHRONOLOGY.

On the 3rd of December, 1729, died at Paris, John Hardouin, a learned

Jesuit, especially celebrated for his condemnation of the writings of

almost all the Greek and Latin authors as forgeries in the middle ages.

He supposed that all history, philosophy, science, and even divinity,

before the middle of the XIVth century, had been forged in the abbies of

Germany, France, and Italy, by a set of monks, who availed themselves of

the taking of Constantinople by the French in 1203, its recovery by the

Greeks 1261, and the expedition of St. Louis to the Holy Land, to make

the world believe that the writings of the Greeks and Romans were then

first discovered, and brought into the west: whereas they had been

compiling them in their cells, and burying them in their libraries, for

their successors to draw forth to light. Though he was ably refuted by

Le Clerc and other distinguished writers, and recanted his opinions, in

consequence of the superiors of his church proscribing his works, yet he

repeated these absurd notions in subsequent publications.[522]

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 40·62.

[522] Gentleman’s Magazine.

~December 4.~

THE WALKING POST.

In December, 1808, was living William Brockbank, whose daily pedestrian

achievements occasioned public notice of him to the following effect. He

was the Walking Post from Manchester to Glossop, in Derbyshire, a

distance of sixteen miles, which he performed every day, Sundays

excepted; returned the same evening, and personally delivered the

letters, newspapers, &c. in that populous and commercial country, to all

near the road, which made his daily task not less than thirty-five

miles, or upwards. What is more extraordinary, he

“This daily coarse of duty _walk’d_”

in less than twelve hours a day, and never varied a quarter of an hour

from his usual time of arriving at Glossop.

Brockbank was a native of Millom, in Cumberland, and had daily walked

the distance between Whitehaven and Ulverstone, frequently under the

necessity of wading the river at Muncaster, by which place he constantly

went, which is at least three miles round. Including the different

calls he had to make at a short distance from the road, his daily task

was not less than forty-seven miles.[523]

THE WEATHER.

Now is the time when, in some parts of England, a person of great note

formerly, in every populous place, was accustomed to make frequent

nocturnal rambles, and proclaim all tidings which it seemed fitting to

him that people should be awakened out of their sleep to harken to. For

the use of this personage, “the Bell-man,” there is a book, now almost

obsolete as regards its use, with this title explanatory of its

purpose,--“The Bell-man’s Treasury, containing above a Hundred several

Verses fitted for all Humours and Fancies, and suited to all times and

seasons.” London, 1707, 8vo. From the riches of this “treasury,” whence

the predecessors of the present parish Bell-man took so much, a little

may be extracted for the reader’s information. First then, if the noisy

rogue were thereunto moved by a good and valuable consideration, we

find, according to the aforesaid work, and the present season, that we

ought to be informed, by sound of bell, and public proclamation,

_Upon a Windy Night._

Now ships are tost upon the angry main,

And Boreas boasts his uncontrolled reign:

The strongest winds their breath and vigour prove,

And through the air th’ increasing murmurs shove.

Think, you that sleep secure between the sheets,

What skies your _Bell-man_ tempts, what dangers meets.

Then, again, according to the book of forms, he is instructed to agitate

us with the following

_Upon a Star-light Night._

Were I a conjurer, such nights as these

I’d choose to calculate nativities;

For every star to that degree prevails,

One might e’en count, and then turn up their tails.

This night will _Flamstead_, and the _Moorfields’_ fry

Such knowledge gain, they’ll seldom tell a lye.

As an amplification of the common cry of watchmen, may be produced the

ancient Bell-man’s.

_Upon a Night of all Weathers._

This night, so different is the changing _weather_,

Boisterous or calm, I cannot tell you whether

’Tis either fair or foul; but, altogether,

Just as to cry a star-light night I study,

Immediately the air grows dark and cloudy:

In short, the temper of the skies, if _any_,

Is _all_, and nature makes a _miscellany_.

MEN IN THE MOON.

A few years ago, professor Gruithausen, of Munich, wrote an essay to

show that there are many plain indications of inhabitants in the moon.

In answer to certain questions, the “Munich Gazette” communicates some

remarkable results, derived from a great number of observations--

1. In what latitude in the moon are there indications of vegetation?

2. How far are there indications of animated beings?

3. Where are the greatest and plainest traces of art on the surface of

the moon?

With respect to the first question, it appears from the observations of

Schroter and Gruithausen, that the vegetation on the moon’s surface

extends to fifty-five south latitude, and sixty-five north latitude.

Many hundred observations show, in the different colours and monthly

changes, three kinds of phenomena which cannot possibly be explained,

except by the process of vegetation.

To the second question it is answered, that the indications from which

the existence of living beings is inferred, are found from fifty north

latitude, to thirty-seven, and perhaps forty-seven, south latitude.

The answer to the third question, points out the places on the moon’s

surface in which are appearances of artificial causes altering the

surface. The author examines the appearances that induce him to infer

that there are artificial roads in various directions; and he describes

a colossal edifice, resembling our cities, on the most fertile part near

the moon’s equator, standing accurately according to the four cardinal

points. The main cities are in angles of forty-five degrees and ninety

degrees. A building resembling what is called a star-redoubt, the

professor presumes to be dedicated to religious purposes, and as they

can see no stars in the daytime (their atmosphere being so pure) he

thinks that they worship the stars, and consider the earth as a natural

clock. His essay is accompanied by plates.

* * * * *

The sombre sadness of the evening shades

Steal slowly o’er the wild sequester’d glen,

And seem to make its loneliness more lonely--

In ages past, nature was here convuls’d,

And, with a sudden and terrific crash,

Asunder rent the adamantine hills--

Now, as exhausted with the pond’rous work,

She lies extended in a deathful trance--

The mountains form her couch magnificent;

Heaven’s glittering arch her canopy;

The snows made paler by the rising moon,

Her gorgeous winding sheet; and the dark rocks

That cast deep shadows on the expanse below,

The sable ’scutcheon of the mighty dead--

The roar of waters, and the north wind’s moan

Give music meet for her funereal dirge.

Yon giant crag, the offspring of her throes,

Has rear’d his towering bulk a thousand years,

Grown hoary in the war of elements,

And still defies the thunder, and the storm

But in his summer pride, his stately form

Is mantled o’er with purple, green, and gold,

And his huge head is garlanded with flowers.

PENNY LOTTERIES AT BROUGH, WESTMORELAND.

About this time, when gardens look in a dormant state, there are

frequently Penny Lotteries in the north of England; and very often a

whole garden is purchased for one penny. There are sometimes twenty

tickets or more, as the case may be, all written on them “blank,” save

“_the prize_.” These are put into a hat, and a boy stands on a form or

chair holding the hat on his head, while those who have bought a ticket

ascend the form alternately, “one by one,” and, shutting their eyes,

take a ticket, which is opened by a boy who is at the bottom for that

purpose. The tickets are only a penny each, and sometimes a garden

(worth a few shillings) or whatever the sale may be, is bought for so

trifling a sum.

W. H. H.

* * * * *

_For the Every-Day Book._

SONNET TO WINTER.

WINTER! though all thy hours are drear and chill,

Yet hast thou one that welcome is to me

Ah! ’tis when daylight fades, and noise ’gins still,

And we afar can faintly darkness see;[524]

When, as it seems too soon to shut out day

And thought, with the intrusive taper’s ray,

We trim the fire, the half-read book resign,

And in our easy chairs at ease recline,

Gaze on the deepening sky, in thoughtful fit

Clinging to light, as loath to part with it

Then, half asleep, life seems to us a dream,--

And magic, all the antic shapes, that gleam

Upon the walls, by the fire’s flickerings made;

And, oft we start, surpris’d but not dismay’d.

Ah! when life fades, and death’s dark hour draws near,

May we as timely muse, and be as void of fear!

W. T. M.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 39·90.

[523] Sporting Magazine.

[524] Darkness visible.--_Milton._

~December 5.~

ST. NICHOLAS’ EVE.

The versifier of ancient customs, Naogeorgus, relates through the

English of his translator, Barnaby Googe, a curious practice on the

vigil of this festival:--

Saint Nicholas money usde to give to maydens secretlie,

Who, that he still may use his woonted liberalitie,

The mothers all their children on the Eeve doe cause to fast,

And when they every one at night in senselesse sleepe are cast,

Both Apples, Nuttes, and Peares they bring, and other things beside,

As caps, and shooes, and petticotes, which secretly they hide,

And in the morning found, they say, that this saint Nicholas

brought:

Thus tender mindes to worship saints and wicked things are taught.

A festival or ceremony called Zopata, from a Spanish word signifying a

shoe, prevails in Italy in the courts of certain princes on St.

Nicholas’ day. Persons hide presents in the shoes and slippers of those

they do honour to, in such manner as may surprise them on the morrow

when they come to dress. This is said to be done in imitation of the

practice of St. Nicholas, who used in the night time to throw purses in

at the windows of poor maids, for their marriage portions.[525]

Mr. Brady says, that “St. Nicholas was likewise venerated as the

protector of virgins; and that there are, or were until lately, numerous

fantastical customs observed in Italy and various parts of France, in

reference to that peculiar tutelary patronage. In several convents it

was customary, on the eve of St. Nicholas, for the _boarder_ to place

each a silk stocking at the door of the apartment of the abbess, with a

piece of paper enclosed, recommending themselves to ‘_great St. Nicholas

of her chamber_:’ and the next day they were called together to witness

the saint’s attention, who never failed to fill the stockings with

sweetmeats, and other trifles of that kind, with which these credulous

virgins made a general feast.”[526]

PIG-ALLS.

A correspondent remarks, that it is now customary for boys to take their

pigs by the hedgeways in the country to feed upon the ‘haws,’ which in

the west are called _pegalls_, or _pigalls_. The boys go foremost with

long poles, and beat the hedges, while the swine, after hearing where

they fall, work most industriously for their provender till dusk, when

they are driven home till daylight.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 40·70.

[525] Brand.

[526] Brady’s Clavis Calendaria.

~December 6.~

ST. NICHOLAS.

_To the Editor of the Every-Day Book._

Sir,--In your fiftieth number, p. 1566, under the head

“St. Nicholas in Russia,”

you give a very correct account of the festivities which usually enliven

the 5th December in _Holland_, but not a word of _Russia_. It appears

you have mistaken the situation of Leeuwarden, which is not a Russian,

but a Dutch town. Friesland was one of the Seven United Provinces.

Perhaps you may think it worth while to correct this error.

N. N.

_December 18, 1825._

* * * * *

“At the Est ende of the Chirche of Bethlem ys a cave in the grounde wher

sumtyme stod a Chirche of Seynt Nicholas. In the same cave entred ower

blyssid lady with hyr Sone, and hyd hyr for ffer of Kyng Herrod. The

gronde ys good for Norces that lake mylk for ther Childern.”[527]

* * * * *

On the 6th of December 1826 _The Times_ newspaper contained the

subjoined article:--

_M. BOCHSA._

The following is an extract from the _French Moniteur_ of Thursday,

February 19, 1818:--

COURT OF ASSIZE AT PARIS.

SITTING OF FEB. 17.

CASE OF THE COMPOSER BOCHSA.

The Court condemned, in contumacy, Nicholas Bochsa, composer of music

and harp-player, whose disappearance about a year ago, it will be

recollected, made so scandalous a noise. He was accused--

1. Of having, on the 26th of last September, committed the crime of

private forgery, by counterfeiting, or causing to be counterfeited, a

bond for four thousand francs, and by signing it with the forged

signatures, Berton, Mehul, Nicolo, and Boyeldieu.

2. Of having, on the 13th of October, 1816, committed a private forgery,

by counterfeiting a resolution and receipt of the committee of the

shareholders of the theatre Feydeau, and by signing them with the forged

signature Rezicourt.

3. Of having, on the 20th of January, 1817, committed a private forgery,

by counterfeiting a resolution of the shareholders of the theatre

Feydeau, with the same forged signature.

4. Of having, on the 1st of March, 1817, committed a commercial forgery,

by fabricating a bill of exchange for 16,500 francs, and signing it with

the forged signatures, Despermont, Perregaux, Lafitte and Company, and

Berton.

5. Of having, on the 9th of March, 1817, committed a private forgery, by

counterfeiting an invoice of musical instruments, and a bond for 14,000

francs, and signing them with the forged signature of Pozzo di Borgo.

6. Of having, on the 11th of March, 1817, committed the crime of private

forgery, by fabricating three bonds for different sums, and signing them

with the forged signatures, Count Chabrol, and Finquerlin.

7. Of having, on the 11th of March, 1817, committed a private forgery,

by fabricating two bonds, one for 10,000 francs, the other for 5,000

francs, upon the funds of the English legation, and by signing them with

the forged signatures, Stuart, Amaury, and Wells.

8. Of having knowingly made use of all these forged documents.

Besides these forgeries, Bochsa appears to have fabricated many others,

particularly bonds bearing the forged signatures of M. le Comte De

Cazes, and of Lord Wellington.

The Court pronounced him guilty of all these private and commercial

forgeries, and condemned him to twelve years of forced labour, to be

branded with the letters T. F., to be fined 4,000 francs, &c.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 41·10.

THE BOY BISHOP.

In addition to the particulars respecting the institution of a child to

“the office and work of a bishop,” in the Romish church, on St.

Nicholas’s day, the following is extracted from the English

annals.--“The Boy bishop, or St. Nicholas, was commonly one of the

choristers, and therefore in the old offices was called _Episcopus

Choristarum, Bishop of the Choristers_, and was chosen by the rest to

this honour. But afterward there were many St. Nicholases: and every

parish, almost, had its St. Nicholas. And from this St. Nicolas’s day to

Innocents’ day at night, this boy bore the name of a bishop, and the

state and habit too, wearing the mitre and the pastoral staff, and the

rest of the pontifical attire; nay, and reading the holy offices. While

he went his procession, he was much feasted and treated by the people,

as it seems, much valuing his blessing; which made the people so fond of

keeping this holyday.”[528]

It appears from the register of the capitulary acts of York cathedral,

that the Boy Bishop there was to be handsome and elegantly shaped.[529]

[Illustration: ~Henry Jenkins--Older than Old Parr.~]

He lived longer than men who were stronger,

And was too old to live any longer.

On the 6th of December, 1670, died Henry Jenkins, aged one hundred and

sixty-nine years.

Jenkins was born at Bolton-upon-Swale in 1500, and followed the

employment of fishing for one hundred and forty years. When about eleven

or twelve years old, he was sent to Northallerton, with a horse-load of

arrows for the battle of Flodden-field, with which a bigger boy (all

the men being employed at harvest) went forward to the army under the

earl of Surrey; king Henry VIII. being at Tournay. When he was more than

a hundred years old, he used to swim across the river with the greatest

ease, and without catching cold. Being summoned to a tithe cause at

York, in 1667, between the vicar of Catterick and William and Peter

Mawbank, he deposed, that the tithes of wool, lamb, &c. were the

vicar’s, and had been paid, to his knowledge, one hundred and twenty

years and more. And in another cause, between Mr. Hawes and Mr. Wastel

of Ellerton, he gave evidence to one hundred and twenty years. Being

born before parish registers were kept, which did not come into use till

the thirtieth of Henry VIII., one of the judges asked him what memorable

battle or event had happened in his memory; to which he answered, “that

when the battle of Flodden-field was fought, where the Scots were beat,

with the death of their king, he was turned of twelve years of age.”

Being asked how he lived, he said, “by thatching and salmon fishing;”

that when he was served with a subpœna, he was thatching a house, and

would dub a hook with any man in Yorkshire; that he had been butler to

lord Conyers, of Hornby-castle, and that Marmaduke Brodelay, lord abbot

of Fountains, did frequently visit his lord, and drink a hearty glass

with him; that his lord often sent him to inquire how the abbot did, who

always sent for him to his lodgings, and, after ceremonies, as he called

it, passed, ordered him, besides wassel, a quarter of a yard of

roast-beef for his dinner, (for that monasteries did deliver their

guests meat by measure,) and a great black jack of strong drink. Being

further asked, if he remembered the dissolution of religious houses, he

said, “Very well; and that he was between thirty and forty years of age

when the order came to dissolve those in Yorkshire; that great

lamentation was made, and the country all in a tumult, when the monks

were turned out.”

In the same parish with Jenkins, there were four or five persons reputed

a century old, who all said he was an elderly man ever since they knew

him. Jenkins had sworn in Chancery and other courts to above a hundred

and forty years’ memory. In the king’s remembrancer’s office, in the

exchequer, is a record of a deposition taken, 1665, at Kettering, in

Yorkshire, in a cause “Clark and Smirkson,” wherein Henry Jenkins, of

Ellerton-upon-Swale, labourer, aged 157 years, was produced and sworn as

a witness. His diet was coarse and sour; towards the latter end of his

days he begged up and down.

Born when the Roman catholic religion was established, Jenkins saw the

supremacy of the pope overturned; the dissolution of monasteries, popery

re-established, and at last the protestant religion securely fixed on a

rock of adamant. In his time the invincible armada was destroyed; the

republic of Holland was formed; three queens were beheaded, Anne Boleyn,

Catherine Howard, and Mary queen of Scots; a king of Spain was seated

upon the throne of England; a king of Scotland was crowned king of

England at Westminster, and his son and successor was beheaded before

his own palace; lastly, the great fire in London happened in 1666, at

the latter end of his wonderfully long life.

Jenkins could neither read nor write. He died at Ellerton-upon-Swale,

and was buried in Bolton church-yard, near Catterick and Richmond, in

Yorkshire, where a small pillar was erected to his memory, and this

epitaph, composed by Dr. Thomas Chapman, master of Magdalen-college,

Cambridge, from 1746 to 1760, engraven upon a monument in Bolton church.

INSCRIPTION.

Blush not, MARBLE!

To rescue from oblivion

The Memory of

HENRY JENKINS;

A person obscure in birth,

But of a life truly memorable:

For,

He was enriched

With the goods of Nature

If not of Fortune;

And happy

In the duration,

If not variety,

Of his enjoyments:

And, tho’ the partial world

Despised and disregarded

His low and humble state,

The equal eye of Providence

Beheld and blessed it,

With a patriarch’s health, and length of

days:

To teach mistaken man,

These blessings

Were intail’d on temperance,

A life of labour, and a mind at ease.

He liv’d to the amazing age of

169,

Was interr’d here _December_ 6th,

1670;

And had this justice done to his memory

1743.[530]

There is a large half sheet portrait of Henry Jenkins, etched by

Worlidge, (after an original painting by Walker,) from whence the

present engraving is copied, and there is a mezzotinto of him after the

same etching.

[527] From the MS. Diary of sir Richard Torkington, quoted in Mr.

Fosbroke’s “British Monachism,” 51, from the “Gentleman’s Magazine”

1812.

[528] Strype’s “Memorials.”

[529] Brand.

[530] Gentleman’s Magazine, 1814. Inscription beneath Worlidge’s

print.

~December 7.~

OLD SIGHTS OF LONDON.

In December, 1751, the following “Uncommon Natural Curiosities” were

exhibited in London.

1. A _Dwarf_, from Glamorganshire, in his fifteenth year, two feet six

inches high, weighing only twelve pounds, yet very proportionable.

2. _John Coan_, a Norfolk dwarf, aged twenty-three; he weighed, with all

his clothes, but thirty-four pounds, and his height, with his hat,

shoes, and wig on, was but thirty-eight inches; his body was perfectly

straight, he was of a good complexion, and sprightly temper, sung

tolerably, and mimicked a cock’s crowing very exactly. A child three

years eight months old, of an ordinary size, with his clothes on,

weighed thirty-six pounds, and his height, without any thing on his

head, was thirty-seven inches seven-tenths, which on comparison gives an

idea of the smallness of this dwarf.

3. A _Negro_, who by a most extraordinary and singular dilatation and

contraction of the deltoid and biceps muscles of the arm, those of the

back, &c., clasped his hands full together, threw them over his head and

back, and brought them in that position under his feet. This he

repeated, backwards or forwards, as often as the spectators desired,

with the greatest facility.

4. A _Female Rhinoceros_, or true Unicorn, a beast of upwards of eight

thousand pounds weight, in a natural coat of mail or armour, having a

large horn on her nose, three hoofs on each foot, and a hide stuck thick

with scales pistol proof, and so surprisingly folded as not to hinder

its motion.

5. A _Crocodile_, _alive_, taken on the banks of the Nile in Egypt, a

creature _never seen before alive in England_.[531]

This is a verbatim account of these sights published at the time; the

prices of admission are not mentioned, but they were deemed worthy of

notice as remarkable exhibitions at the period. In the present day the

whole of them would scarcely make more than a twopenny show; and, at

that low rate, without a captivating showman, they would scarcely

attract. London streets are now literally “strewed with rarities,” and

“uncommon things,” at which our forefathers stared with wonder, are most

common.

A PARTICULAR ARTICLE.

“A READER,” at p. 1584, should have had “Lyneham, Wilts,” as the place

of his residence, attached to his remarks on an account of “Clack Fall

Fair,” at p. 1371, which was supplied by “an old correspondent,” with

whose name and address the editor is acquainted, and whose subjoined

communication claims regard. He writes in explanation, and adds some

very pleasant particulars.

CLACK FALL FAIR.

_To the Editor of the Every-Day Book._

Dear Sir,--I cannot allow your pages to close without replying to the

“Corrections and Illustrations,” p. 1584, made by “A Reader” respecting

“Clack and its vicinity.”

_First._ I observe that Bradenstoke priory is usually called the

“Abbey,” in the neighbourhood,--not the “Priory.” There is a tree

growing upon the tower, and a legend respecting it. I was once taken up

to see it blossom, having slept in the room under it with my

schoolfellow, John Bridges, whose mother, at that time a widow, kept the

farm, and a most excellent woman she was.

_Secondly._ I should have considered the stating, “that a carpenter,

while digging, struck his spade against an image of gold, and has it in

his possession,” was sufficient, without further inquiry or remark. I

repeat the fact for a truth. I _know_ the _man_, and have _seen_ the

IMAGE. As an antiquary myself, I assure you, sir, I could fain dig for

similar hidden treasures in the hope of like reward. The person who owns

the image is not needy, he therefore would not part with his weight of

gold for more sovereign current weight.

_Thirdly._ When young, I descended several feet into the “subterraneous

passage” referred to by your “Reader.” Though I am willing to admit the

possibility of monkish imposition--such a passage has, however, been

believed to have existed by the oldest people of Clack. Similarly, it is

conjectured, that a passage once ran from Canonbury-tower, Islington, to

the palace Kensington. Your “Reader” is rather too sceptical to

challenge me to a proof, which I take only in a topographical sense. Of

whatever effect tradition may be, much historical truth is

notwithstanding embodied in it: furthermore, it is well known, that

subterraneous passages led from place to place, when castle building was

in vogue.

_Fourthly._ The oldest man living in Seagry, at the time I was shown the

stone in Malmsbury abbey, whose name was Carey, was the occasion of my

going to that place to see the stone: I paid sixpence to the person who

gave me a view of it. He represented it to have been done by “Geoffry

Miles”--the boy was a choirister: this is his information, not mine. The

impression ever after guarded my conduct in school.

_Fifthly._ As to “Joe Ody,” your “Reader’s” own words prove the truth of

what I have said of him, and the “_may be correct_” is not called for.

The lord chancellor could not have been more doubtful than your

anonymous “Reader,” as to my information and communication. Some of the

Ody family are now residing in Camberwell, whither your “Reader” may

resort, should he be desirous of learning more of Joe’s merry-andrewism,

who was no mean disciple of the rev. Andrew, his patron.

_Sixthly._ Your “Reader’s” hit at “Bowles” is corrected by me at the

page in which his reference stands. Would that the “Bowles’ controversy”

with Byron and Roscoe, respecting Pope, had been as easily terminated,

and with as little acrimony and as much satisfaction!

_Seventhly._ The room I have already occupied in this paper prevents my

stating much concerning “Clack Mount;”--this mount is, however,

remarkable for two things,--the resort of bonfire makers, November 5,

and the club at Whitsuntide. At the time of the _ox-roasting_ many years

since, in peaceful-ending times and rejoicing, this “mount” was a scene

of delight and festivity. A band of music resorted thither, a line was

formed as on club-day, beer was given round, and the collected people of

both sexes, young and old, joined in the hilarious jubilee; after which

the band, graced by every pretty girl, paraded to the priory, and played

there in the best room. Its furniture, I remember, looked clubbed, dark,

and glossy; it seemed, to me, a pity to tread on the shining floor, it

was so antiquely neat and sacred. Given to kissing, when very young, I

shall never forget touching the rosy cheeks of Miss Polly Bridges behind

the awful door of the sacristy, at which theft I was caught by her

laughing mother;--I beg to apologise to your “Reader,” sir, for this

(digression) _confession_, but as my ancestors came from the priory, and

_Christmas_ being near, I trust he will _pardon_ me, as Polly’s mother

gave me _absolution_. On this ox-roasting occasion, Clack seemed really

rising out of the stones. Dancing, music, holyday, and mirth, pervaded

every house; and, very unusual, every poor person that brought a plate

for the portion of slices of sheep, roasted opposite at baker Hendon’s,

pretended to have _more_ children than there were at home; some families

imposed on the cook by two and three applications.--Who does not

recollect the ox and sheep roasting? I can hardly resist a description

of the many scenes I witnessed several days successively in the various

villages--of the many happy hearts, and their intimate enjoyments. I

could almost follow the example of “Elia” himself, and at once be

jocose, classical, and fastidious. But mercy on your readers’ patience

denies me the pleasure.

Therefore, _Lastly_, “The Maypole.” It was standing, fifteen feet high,

thirty-six years ago. The higher part was cut off at the request of

Madam Heath, before whose house, and the Trooper, it stood. I once

myself saw the “morris-dance” round it, when cowslips, oxlips, and other

flowers were suspended up and down it: nails were driven round the lower

part to prevent a further incision. Unfortunately for the writer, the

land which lies from “Clack to Barry-end,” a distance less than two

miles, once belonged to my forefathers. Maud Heath, who caused a

_causeway_ to be made and kept in order to this day, from

Callaway’s-bridge to Chippenham, was one of my collaterals.

Thanking you, sir, for your indulgence, and a “Reader” for his giving me

an opportunity of illustrating his positions,

I am,

truly yours,

AN OLD CORRESPONDENT.

_Dec. 11, 1826._

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 38·82.

[531] Gentleman’s Magazine.

~December 8.~

CONCEPTION B. V. M.

This day is so marked in the church of England calendar and almanacs. It

is the Romish festival of “_The Immaculate Conception of the Holy

Virgin_,” whom that church states to have been conceived and born

without original sin. A doctrine whereon more has been written, perhaps,

than any other point of ecclesiastical controversy. One author, Peter

D’Alva, has published forty-eight folios on the mysteries of the

Conception.

The immaculate conception and happy nativity of the Virgin are

maintained to have taken place at Loretto, about 150 miles from Rome;

and further, that at that particular place, “hallowed by her birth,” she

was saluted by the angel Gabriel, and that she there nurtured our

Saviour until he was twelve years of age. The popular belief readily

yielding to that which power dictated, Loretto became one of the richest

places in the world, from the numerous pilgrimages and votive presents

made to the “_Sancta Casa_,” or “Holy House,” to enclose which, a

magnificent church was erected and dedicated to the Virgin, hence

generally styled “our Lady of Loretto.”

Peter the Lombard originally started the mystery of the immaculate

conception in the year 1060; though Baronius affirms, that it was

“discovered by Revelation” in the year 1109, to one, (but his name is

not recorded,) “who was a great lover of the Virgin, and daily read her

office.” On the day he was to be married, however, he was “so much

occupied,” that this usual piece of devotion escaped his attention until

he was in “the nuptial office,” when, suddenly recollecting the

omission, he sent his bride and all the company home while he performed

it. During this pious duty, the Virgin appeared to him with her son in

her arms, and reproached him for his neglect, affording, however, the

glorious hope of salvation, if he would “quit his wife and consider

himself espoused to her,” declaring to him the whole of the

circumstances of her nativity, which he reported to the pope, who

naturally caused her feast immediately to be instituted.

The canons of Lyons attempted to establish an office for this mystery in

the year 1136, but Bernard opposed it. The council at Oxford, in 1222,

left people at liberty either to observe the day or not. Sixtus IV.,

however, in the year 1476, ordered it to be generally held in

commemoration, although the alleged circumstances attendant upon this

immaculate conception are not, even in the church of Rome, held as an

article of faith, but merely reckoned a “pious opinion.” The council of

Trent confirmed the ordinances of Sixtus, but without condemning as

heretics those who refused to observe it; and Alexander V. issued his

bull, even commanding that there should not be any discussion upon such

an intricate subject. The Spaniards, however, were so strenuous in their

belief of this mystery, that from the year 1652, the knights of the

military orders of St. James of the sword, Calatrava, and Alcantara,

each made a vow at their admission to “defend” the doctrine.

In the popish countries, the Virgin is still the principal favourite of

devotion, and is addressed by her devotees under the following, from

among many other titles, ill suiting with the reformed sentiments of

this country.

_Empress of Heaven!_

_Queen of Heaven!_

_Empress of Angels!_

_Queen of Angels!_

_Empress of the Earth!_

_Queen of the Earth!_

_Lady of the Universe!_

_Lady of the World!_

_Mistress of the World!_

_Patroness of the Men!_

_Advocate for Sinners!_

_Mediatrix!_

_Gate of Paradise!_

_Mother of Mercies!_

_Goddess! and_

_The only Hope of Sinners!_

Under the two latter, they implore the Virgin for salvation by the power

which, as a mother, she is inferred to possess of “commanding her son!”

The legends afford tales in support of the opinion, that she not only

possesses, but actually exerts such authorities.--“O Mary,” says St.

Bonaventure, “be a man never so wicked and miserable a sinner, you have

the soft compassion of a mother for him, and never leave him until you

have reconciled him to his judge.” One instance of which peculiar

protection of sinners is recorded from father Crassett, who with much

solemnity states, that “a soldier, hardened by his occupation, had not

only renounced Christ, but given himself up wholly to the devil and the

most vicious courses, though, as he did not also renounce the Virgin, he

in a time of much necessity fervently prayed for her intercession.” This

application, he adds, “was instantly attended to, and the man heard the

benevolent mother of our Lord desire her son to have mercy upon him;

who, not to refuse his parent, answered, he would do it for her sake,

notwithstanding he had himself been wholly forgotten and unnoticed.”

The first who was particularly noticed as introducing this worship of

the Virgin, is Peter Gnapheus, bishop of Antioch, in the fifth century,

who appointed her name to be called upon in the prayers of the church.

It is said that Peter Fullo, a monk of Constantinople, introduced the

name of the Virgin Mary in the public prayers about the year 480; but it

is certain, she was not generally invoked in public until a long time

after that period.[532]

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 38·22.

[532] Mr. Brady’s Clavis Calendaria.

~December 9.~

JEWISH MARRIAGE CEREMONY.

On the 9th of December, 1809, the following cause was tried in the court

of King’s-bench, Guildhall, London, before lord Ellenborough and a

special jury.

_Holme_ and others v. _Noah_.

Mr. Garrow stated this to be an action upon a bill of exchange for a

small sum of money for coals, which the plaintiffs, who were

coal-merchants, had furnished to the defendant, who was an ingenious

lady, employing herself in drawing pictures. The bill, when due, had not

been honoured.

Mr. Park, in defence to the action, maintained, that the defendant was

a married woman, and said he held an excellent treatise in his hand,

called “_Uxor Hebreiaca_,” from whence he cited in behalf of his client,

who was a Jewess, whose husband was alive.

Mr. Philips, reader of the Synagogue of the Jews in Leadenhall-street,

proved the marriage to have taken place in the year 1781; he was present

at it. The proper priest, now dead, officiated in the usual form and

solemnity, and these parties were duly united in lawful marriage,

according to the Mosaic form. He was one of the attesting witnesses of

the entry of the marriage in the book of the priest.

Mr. Levi proved that he knew the husband and wife; was present at the

marriage, he being then only thirteen.

Jos. Abidigore, a teacher of the Hebrew language, read in English the

entry in the priest’s book of this marriage; the ceremony was executed

by the priest. The entry in English was thus:

“Fourth day of the week, in the second month Neron, in the year 5541

after the creation of the world, according to the reckoning here in

London. Henry Noel said to Emily--“Become thou a wife unto me, according

to the law of Moses, and I will ever after maintain thee according to

the rites of the Jews;” and the priest said, “I heard him account her

wife, and she shall bring to him the dowry of her virginity according to

the law, and she shall remain and cohabit with him.” To which the lady

did consent and become unto him his wife, and she offered him presents

consisting of silver and gold, and splendid ornaments of gold, and 100

pieces of fine silver; and the bridegroom accepted these presents of the

bride, and brought also 100 pieces of the like gold, ornaments, and fine

silver; the whole amounting together to 200 pieces of gold and fine

silver; and the bridegroom doth take all the responsibility of the care

of all for himself, for his bride, and for their children. And their

maintenance to be had out of the property which he doth possess, under

this solemn union.”

_Lord Ellenborough._--This marriage being proved to be duly had

according to the solemnities of the Mosaic law, the plaintiffs must be

called.--_Plaintiffs non-suited._

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 37·85.

~December 10.~

A WELSH BAPTISM.

_For the Every-Day Book._

On the 10th of December, 1813, in passing through the small village of

Llangemuch, in Carmarthenshire, I observed several of the villagers

assembled round the door and windows of one of the cottages, and heard

within the loud tones of what proved to be one of their preachers. I

entered, and found them employed in the baptism of a child. The font was

a pint basin, placed on a small plate; the humble table was covered with

a clean napkin. The minister, a brawny, round-shouldered young man, with

deep-cut features and overhanging brows, his eyes closed, and his body

moving in every direction, roared out in the most discordant and

deafening din; his voice then suddenly fell--then rose, and fell again,

with most surprising, but most inharmonious modulation. The child he

then proceeded to _cross_, “in the name, &c.,” the whole being in the

Welsh language: the name of the child (Henry) was the only English sound

which caught my ear. Next followed, what appeared to me, an address to

the parents. The scene was picturesque. The cottage rude, and but half

illumined by the dim light--the vehement contortions of the

preacher--the mother and the child, with several young women, whose

cheeks were as ruddy as the Welsh cloaks with which they were _adorned_,

sitting beside the fire--the father, in his countenance a mixture of

rudeness and of puritanism, leaning against the wall in an attitude of

the profoundest attention--two or three old women coughing and groaning

around the preacher--some labourers standing in a group, in a dark

corner, scarcely discernible--and the chubby children, half wishing, but

not daring, to continue their sports: these, and the other features of

this unstudied scene, would have formed an admirable subject for the

pencil of a Wilkie. At length the preacher approached to a conclusion,

and wound up his address in a peroration, distinguished by increased

energy of manner, by more hideous faces, by accelerated motions of his

limbs, and by louder vociferation. He suddenly sat down: the religious

part of the ceremony was over, and I was invited to partake of the

rustic fare which had been provided for the occasion.

J. D.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 37·90.

~December 11.~

THE FEMALE CHARACTER.

Ledyard, the traveller, who died at Cairo in 1788, on his way to

accomplish the task of traversing the widest part of the continent of

Africa from east to west, in the supposed latitude of the Niger, pays a

just and handsome tribute to the kind affections of the sex.

“I have always observed,” says Ledyard, “that women, in all countries,

are civil and obliging, tender and humane; that they are ever inclined

to be gay and cheerful, timorous and modest; and that they do not

hesitate, like men, to perform a generous action. Not haughty, not

arrogant, not supercilious, they are full of courtesy, and fond of

society; more liable, in general, to err than man, but, in general, also

more virtuous, and performing more good actions than he. To a woman,

whether civilized or savage, I never addressed myself in the language of

decency and friendship, without receiving a decent and friendly answer.

With man it has often been otherwise. In wandering over the barren

plains of inhospitable Denmark, through honest Sweden, and frozen

Lapland, rude and churlish Finland, unprincipled Russia, and the

wide-spread regions of the wandering Tartar; if hungry, dry, cold, wet,

or sick, the women have ever been friendly to me, and uniformly so: and

to add to this virtue, (so worthy the appellation of benevolence,) these

actions have been performed in so free and so kind a manner, that, if I

was dry, I drank the sweetest draught; and if hungry, I ate the coarse

morsel with a double relish.”

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 38·20

~December 12.~

NATIONAL SONG.

_To the Editor of the Every-Day Book._

Sir,--I perceive in page 539 of the present volume, you have inserted

the national song of “God save the King,” in the Welsh language, as

translated by the able and learned Dr. W. O. Pughe, perhaps the

following version of the same in the _Gaelic_ language, or that spoken

by the Highlanders of Scotland, may prove acceptable to many readers.

O Dhia! cum suas, ard Dheors’ ar Righ,

Gleidh fad ’a slan an Righ,

Dhia tearn án Righ.

Cuir buaidh, air a shluagh ’sa chath,

Dion iad, fo d’ sgiath ’s mhagh

Gu’m fad a riaghlis é gu maith,

Dhia sabhal an Righ.

O Dhia! le d’ sgiath dion da shliochd,

Gun choirp ’s gun chunart am feasd,

Crun ’oirdearg na Righachd.

Thoir dha, thar uile namhid, buaidh,

Air tir agus, air a chuan,

’S gliocas mòr an fheum uair,

Dhia bean’ichdo shluagh an Righ.

Bithidh ait’n diugh thar tir na ’n tònn,

Aoibhneas, aighar, ceol’s fònn,

Air son deugh shlaint ’an Righ.

Deich agus da fhichid bliadhna

Le cumhachd, onair agus cial,

Lion è caithir alba na buaidh,

Buanich O Dhia! sa’ ol an Righ.

Among the translations of Dr. Owen Pughe, his version of “_Non nobis

Domine_” is excellent. I subjoin it, that you may make what use of it

you please.

O, nid i ni, ein Jor, o nid i ni,

Ond deled i dy Enw ogoniant byth,

Ond deled i dy Enw ogoniant byth.

GWILYM SAIS.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 39·05.

~December 13.~

_Lucy._[533]

ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH.

Be virtuous; govern your passions; restrain your appetites; avoid excess

and high-seasoned food; eat slowly, and chew your food well. Do not eat

to full satiety. Breakfast betimes; it is not wholesome to go out

fasting. In winter, a glass or two of wine is an excellent preservative

against unwholesome air. Make a hearty meal about noon, and eat plain

meats only. Avoid salted meats: those who eat them often have pale

complexions, a slow pulse, and are full of corrupted humours. Sup

betimes, and sparingly. Let your meat be neither too little nor too much

done. Sleep not till two hours after eating. Begin your meals with a

little tea, and wash your mouth with a cup of it afterward.

The most important advice which can be given for maintaining the body in

due temperament, is to be very moderate in the use of all the pleasures

of sense; for all excess weakens the spirits. Walk not too long at once.

Stand not for hours in one posture; nor lie longer than necessary. In

winter, keep not yourself too hot; nor in summer too cold. Immediately

after you awake, rub your breast where the heart lies, with the palm of

your hand. Avoid a stream of wind as you would an arrow. Coming out of a

warm bath, or after hard labour, do not expose your body to cold. If in

the spring, there should be two or three hot days, do not be in haste to

put off your winter clothes. It is unwholesome to fan yourself during

perspiration. Wash your mouth with water or tea, lukewarm, before you go

to rest, and rub the soles of your feet warm. When you lie down, banish

all thought.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 38·57.

[533] See vol. i. 1570.

~December 14.~

IRISH LINEN.

In December, 1738, was shown at the Linen Hall, in Dublin, a piece of

linen, accounted the finest ever made; there were 3800 threads in the

breadth. The trustees of the linen manufacture set a value of forty

guineas on the piece, which contained 23 yards. It was spun by a woman

of Down. About two years before, Mr. Robert Kaine, at Lurgan, county of

Ardmagh, sold 24 yards of superfine Irish linen, manufactured in that

town, for 40_s._ per yard, to the countess of Antrim which occasioned

the following lines:--

Would all the great such patterns buy,

How swiftly would the shuttles fly,

Cambray should cease, and Hamburgh too,

To boast their art! since Lurgan! you

May, like Arachne, dare to vie,

With any spinning deity;

Nay, tho’ Asbestos she should weave,

Thou, Lurgan, should’st the prize receive.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 38·20.

~December 15.~

A LITERARY DISASTER.

On a certain day, the date of which is uncertain, in the month of

December, 1730, the books and MSS. of Dr. Tanner, bishop of St. Asaph,

being on their removal from Norwich to Christchurch college in Oxford,

fell into and lay under water twenty hours, and received great damage.

Among them were near 300 volumes of MSS. purchased of Mr. Bateman, a

bookseller, who bought them of archbishop Sancroft’s nephew. There were

in all seven cart loads.[534]

It may be recollected that bishop Tanner was the friend of Mr. Browne

Willis, respecting whom an account has been inserted, with an original

letter from that distinguished antiquary to the prelate when chancellor

of Norwich.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean temperature 38·67.

[534] Gentleman’s Magazine.

~December 16.~

Cambridge Term ends.

O SAPIENTIA.

The meaning of this term in the calendar is in vol. i. 1571.

STORY-TELLING.

Is a diversion of necessity in winter, when we are confined by the

weather, and must make entertainment in the house, because we cannot

take pleasure in the open air. Though at any time we may like, yet now

we _love_ to hear accounts of sayings and doings in former times; and,

therefore, it seems that a description of an old house in the country,

and an old and true story belonging to it, may be agreeable.

AN ANCIENT HALL.

Littlecotes-house, two miles from Hungerford, in Berkshire, stands in a

low and lonely situation. On three sides it is surrounded by a park that

spreads over the adjoining hill; on the fourth, by meadows, which are

watered by the river Kennet. Close on one side of the house is a thick

grove of lofty trees, along the verge of which runs one of the principal

avenues to it through the park. It is an irregular building of great

antiquity, and was probably erected about the time of the termination

of feudal warfare, when defence came no longer to be an object in a

country-mansion. Many circumstances in the interior of the house,

however, seem appropriate to feudal times. The hall is very spacious,

floored with stones, and lighted by large transom windows, that are

clothed with casements. Its walls are hung with old military

accoutrements, that have long been left a prey to rust. At one end of

the hall is a range of coats of mail and helmets, and there is on every

side abundance of old-fashioned pistols and guns, many of them with

matchlocks. Immediately below the cornice hangs a row of leathern

jerkins, made in the form of a shirt, supposed to have been worn as

armour by the vassals. A large oak-table, reaching nearly from one end

of the room to the other, might have feasted the whole neighbourhood;

and an appendage to one end of it, made it answer at other times for the

old game of shuffle-board. The rest of the furniture is in a suitable

style, particularly an arm-chair of cumbrous workmanship, constructed of

wood, curiously turned, with a high back and triangular seat, said to

have been used by judge Popham in the reign of Elizabeth. The entrance

into the hall is at one end by a low door, communicating with a passage

that leads from the outer door, in the front of the house, to a

quadrangle within; at the other it opens upon a gloomy staircase, by

which you ascend to the first floor, and passing the doors of some

bed-chambers, enter a narrow gallery, which extends along the back front

of the house from one end to the other of it, and looks upon an old

garden. This gallery is hung with portraits, chiefly in the Spanish

dresses of the sixteenth century. In one of the bed-chambers, which you

pass in going towards the gallery, is a bedstead with blue furniture,

which time has now made dingy and threadbare; and in the bottom of one

of the bed-curtains you are shown a place where a small piece has been

cut out and sewn in again; a circumstance which serves to identify the

scene of the following story:--

It was a dark, rainy night in the month of November, that an old midwife

sat musing by her cottage fire-side, when on a sudden she was startled

by aloud knocking at the door. On opening it she found a horseman, who

told her that her assistance was required immediately by a person of

rank, and that she should be handsomely rewarded, but that there were

reasons for keeping the affair a strict secret, and, therefore, she must

submit to be blindfolded, and to be conducted in that condition to the

bed-chamber of the lady. After proceeding in silence for many miles

through rough and dirty lanes, they stopped, and the midwife was led

into a house, which, from the length of her walk through the apartment,

as well as the sounds about her, she discovered to be the seat of wealth

and power. When the bandage was removed from her eyes, she found herself

in a bed-chamber, in which were the lady, on whose account she had been

sent for, and a man of haughty and ferocious aspect. The lady gave birth

to a fine boy. Immediately the man commanded the midwife to give him the

child, and, catching it from her, he hurried across the room, and threw

it on the back of the fire, that was blazing in the chimney. The child,

however, was strong, and by its struggles rolled itself off upon the

hearth, when the ruffian again seized it with fury, and, in spite of the

intercession of the midwife, and the more piteous entreaties of the

mother, thrust it under the grate, and raking the live coals upon it,

soon put an end to its life. The midwife, after spending some time in

affording all the relief in her power to the wretched mother, was told

that she must be gone. Her former conductor appeared, who again bound

her eyes, and conveyed her behind him to her own home; he then paid her

handsomely, and departed. The midwife was strongly agitated by the

horrors of the preceding night; and she immediately made a deposition of

the fact before a magistrate. Two circumstances afforded hopes of

detecting the house in which the crime had been committed; one was, that

the midwife, as she sat by the bed-side, had, with a view to discover

the place, cut out a piece of the bed-curtain, and sewn it in again; the

other was, that as she had descended the staircase, she had counted the

steps. Some suspicions fell upon one Darrell, at that time the

proprietor of Littlecote-house and the domain around it. The house was

examined, and identified by the midwife, and Darrell was tried at

Salisbury for the murder. By corrupting his judge, he escaped the

sentence of the law; but broke his neck by a fall from his horse in

hunting, in a few months after. The place where this happened is still

known by the name of Darrell’s hill: a spot to be dreaded by the peasant

whom the shades of evening have overtaken on his way.[535]

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 38·67.

[535] In Dr. Drake’s “Shakspeare and his Times,” from sir Walter

Scott’s “Rokeby.”

~December 17.~

COUNTRY MANSIONS.

During the reign of Henry VIII., and even of Mary, they were, if we

except their size, little better than cottages, being thatched

buildings, covered on the outside with the coarsest clay, and lighted

only by lattices. When Harrison wrote, in the age of Elizabeth, though

the greater number of manor-houses still remained framed of timber, yet

he observes, “such as be latelie builded, are com’onlie either of bricke

or hard stone, or both; their roomes large and comelie, and houses of

office further distant from their lodgings.” The old timber mansions,

too, were then covered with the finest plaster, which, says the

historian, “beside the delectable whitenesse of the stuffe itselfe, is

laied on so even and smoothlie, as nothing in my judgment can be done

with more exactnesse:” and at the same time, the windows, interior

decorations, and furniture, were becoming greatly more useful and

elegant. “Of old time our countrie houses,” continues Harrison, “instead

of glasse did use much lattise, and that made either of wicker or fine

rifts of oke in chekerwise. I read also that some of the better sort, in

and before the time of the Saxons, did make panels of horne instead of

glasse, and fix them in woodden calmes. But as horne in windows is now

quite laid downe in everie place, so our lattises are also growne into

lesse use, because glasse is come to be so plentifull, and within a

verie little so good cheape if not better then the other. The wals of

our houses on the inner sides in like sort be either hanged with

tapisterie, arras worke, or painted cloths, wherein either diverse

histories, or hearbes, beasts, knots, and such like are stained, or else

they are seeled with oke of our owne, or wainescot brought hither out of

the east countries, whereby the roomes are not a little commanded, made

warme, and much more close than otherwise they would be. As for stooves

we have not hitherto used them greatlie, yet doo they now begin to be

made in diverse houses of the gentrie. Like in the houses of knights,

gentlemen, &c. it is not geson to behold generallie their great

provision of Turkie worke, pewter, brasse, fine linen, and thereto

costlie cupbords of plate, worth five or six hundred or a thousand

pounds, to be deemed by estimation.”

The house of every country-gentleman of property included a neat chapel

and a spacious hall; and where the estate and establishment were

considerable, the mansion was divided into two parts or sides, one for

the state or banqueting-rooms, and the other for the household; but in

general, the latter, except in baronial residences, was the only part to

be met with, and when complete, had the addition of parlours; thus

Bacon, in his Essay on Building, describing the household side of a

mansion, says, “I wish it divided at the first into a hall, and a

chappell, with a partition between, both of good state and bignesse; and

those not to goe all the length, but to have, at the further end, a

winter and a summer parler, both faire: and under these roomes a faire

and large cellar, sunke under ground: and likewise, some privie

kitchens, with butteries and pantries, and the like.” It was the custom

also to have windows opening from the parlours and passages into the

chapel, hall, and kitchen, with the view of overlooking or controlling

what might be going on; a trait of vigilant caution, which may still be

discovered in some of our ancient colleges and manor-houses.

The hall of the country squire was the usual scene of eating and

hospitality, at the upper end of which was placed the orsille, or high

table, a little elevated above the floor, and here the master of the

mansion presided, with an authority, if not a state, which almost

equalled that of the potent baron. The table was divided into upper and

lower messes, by a huge saltcellar, and the rank and consequence of the

visitors were marked by the situation of their seats above and below the

saltcellar; a custom which not only distinguished the relative dignity

of the guests, but extended likewise to the nature of the provision, the

wine frequently circulating only above the saltcellar, and the dishes

below it being of a coarser kind than those near the head of the

table.[536]

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 39·50.

[536] Dr. Drake

~December 18.~

Oxford Term ends.

OLD ENGLISH LIVING.

The usual fare of country-gentlemen, relates Harrison, was “foure, five,

or six dishes, when they have but small resort,” and accordingly, we

find that Justice Shallow, when he invites Falstaffe to dinner, issues

the following orders: “Some pigeons, Davy; a couple of short-legged

hens; a joint of mutton; and any pretty little tiny kickshaws, tell

William Cook.” But on feast-days, and particularly on festivals, the

profusion and cost of the table were astonishing. Harrison observes,

that the country-gentlemen and merchants contemned butcher’s meat on

such occasions, and vied with the nobility in the production of rare and

delicate viands, of which he gives a long list; and Massinger says,

“Men may talk of country Christmasses,

Their thirty-pound butter’d eggs, their pies of carp’s tongues,

Their pheasants drench’d with ambergris, the carcasses

Of three fat wethers bruised for gravy, to

Make sauce for a single peacock; yet their feasts

Were fasts, compared with the city’s.”

_City Madam_, act ii. sc. 1.

It was the custom in the houses of the country-gentlemen to retire after

dinner, which generally took place about eleven in the morning, to the

garden-bower, or an arbour in the orchard, in order to partake of the

banquet or dessert; thus Shallow, addressing Falstaffe after dinner,

exclaims, “Nay, you shall see mine orchard: where, in an arbour, we will

eat a last year’s pippin of my own graffing, with a dish of carraways,

and so forth.” From the banquet it was usual to retire to evening

prayer, and thence to supper, between five and six o’clock; for, in

Shakspeare’s time, there were seldom more than two meals--dinner and

supper; “heretofore,” remarked Harrison, “there hath beene much more

time spent in eating and drinking than commonlie is in these daies; for

whereas of old we had breakfasts in the forenoone, beverages or nuntions

after dinner, and thereto reare suppers generallie when it was time to

go to rest. Now these od repasts, thanked be God, are verie well left,

and ech one in manner (except here and there some yoonge hungrie stomach

that cannot fast till dinner time) contenteth himselfe with dinner and

supper onelie. The nobilitie, gentlemen, and merchantmen, especiallie at

great meetings, doo sit commonlie till two or three of the clocke at

afternoone, so that with manie it is an hard matter to rise from the

table to go to evening praier, and returne from thence to come time

enough to supper.”

The supper, which, on days of festivity, was often protracted to a late

hour, and often, too, as substantial as the dinner, was succeeded,

especially at Christmas, by gambols of various sorts; and sometimes the

squire and his family would mingle in the amusements, or, retiring to

the tapestried parlour, would leave the hall to the more boisterous

mirth of their household; then would the blind harper, who sold his fit

of mirth for a groat, be introduced, either to provoke the dance, or to

rouse their wonder by his minstrelsy; his “matter being, for the most

part, stories of old time,--as the tale of sir Topas, the reportes of

Bevis of Southampton, Guy of Warwicke, Adam Bell, and Clymme of the

Clough, and such other old romances or historical rimes, made purposely

for recreation of the common people, at Christmas dinners and

brideales.”

The posset, at bed-time, closed the joyous day--a custom to which

Shakspeare has occasionally alluded: thus Lady Macbeth says of the

“surfeited grooms,” “I have drugg’d their possets;” Mr. Quickly tells

Rugby, “Go; and we’ll have a posset for’t soon at night, in faith, at

the latter end of a sea-coal fire;” and Page, cheering Falstaffe,

exclaims, “Thou shalt eat a posset to-night at my house.” Thomas

Heywood, a contemporary of Shakspeare, has particularly noticed this

refection as occurring just before bed-time: “Thou shalt be welcome to

beef and bacon, and perhaps a bag-pudding; and my daughter Nell shall

pop a posset upon thee when thou goest to bed.”[537]

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 39·35.

[537] Dr. Drake.

~December 19.~

AN UPSTART.

Bishop Earle says, “he is a holiday clown, and differs only in the

stuff of his clothes, not the stuff of himself; for he bare the king’s

sword before he had arms to wield it; yet, being once laid o’er the

shoulder with a knighthood, he finds the herald his friend. His father

was a man of good stock, though but a tanner or usurer: he purchased the

land, and his son the title. He has doffed off the name of a country

fellow, but the look not so easy; and his face still bears a relish of

churne-milk. He is guarded with more gold lace than all the gentlemen of

the country, yet his body makes his clothes still out of fashion. His

house-keeping is seen much in the distinct families of dogs, and

serving-men attendant on their kennels, and the deepness of their

throats is the depth of his discourse. A hawk he esteems the true burden

of nobility, and is exceeding ambitious to seem delighted in the sport,

and have his fist gloved with his jesses. A justice of peace he is to

domineer in his parish, and do his neighbour wrong with more right. He

will be drunk with his hunters for company, and stain his gentility with

droppings of ale. He is fearful of being sheriff of the shire by

instinct, and dreads the assize week as much as the prisoner. In sum,

he’s but a clod of his own earth, or his land is the dunghill, and he

the cock that crows over it; and commonly his race is quickly run, and

his children’s children, though they scape hanging, return to the place

from whence they came.”

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 38·40.

~December 20.~

Ember Week. See vol. i.

AN OLD ENGLISH SQUIRE.

Mr. Hastings, an old gentleman of ancient times in Dorsetshire, was low

of stature, but strong and active, of a ruddy complexion, with flaxen

hair. His clothes were always of green cloth, his house was of the old

fashion; in the midst of a large park, well stocked with deer, rabbits,

and fish-ponds. He had a long, narrow bowling-green in it; and used to

play with round sand bowls. Here, too, he had a banqueting-room built,

like a stand, in a large tree. He kept all sorts of hounds, that ran

buck, fox, hare, otter, and badger; and had hawks of all kinds, both

long and short winged. His great hall was commonly strewed with marrow

bones; and full of hawk-perches, hounds, spaniels, and terriers. The

upper end of it was hung with fox-skins, of this and the last year’s

killing. Here and there a pole-cat was intermixed; and hunters’ poles in

great abundance. The parlour was a large room, completely furnished in

the same style. On a broad hearth, paved with brick, lay some of the

choicest terriers, hounds, and spaniels. One or two of the great chairs

had litters of cats in them, which were not to be disturbed. Of these,

three or four always attended him at dinner; and a little white wand lay

by his trencher, to defend it if they were too troublesome. In the

windows, which were very large, lay his arrows, cross-bows, and other

accoutrements. The corners of the room were filled with his best hunting

and hawking poles. His oyster table stood at the lower end of the room,

which was in constant use twice a day all the year round; for he never

failed to eat oysters both at dinner and supper, with which the

neighbouring town of Pool supplied him. At the upper end of the room

stood a small table with a double desk; one side of which held a church

bible, the other the book of martyrs. On different tables in the room

lay hawks’ hoods, bells, old hats, with their crowns thrust in, full of

pheasant eggs; tables, dice, cards, and store of tobacco pipes. At one

end of this room was a door, which opened into a closet, where stood

bottles of strong beer and wine; which never came out but in single

glasses, which was the rule of the house; for he never exceeded himself,

nor permitted others to exceed. Answering to this closet was a door into

an old chapel, which had been long disused for devotion; but in the

pulpit, as the safest place, was always to be found a cold chine of

beef, a venison pasty, a gammon of bacon, or a great apple-pie, with

thick crust well baked. His table cost him not much, though it was good

to eat at. His sports supplied all but beef and mutton; except on

Fridays, when he had the best of fish. He never wanted a London pudding,

and he always sang it in with “My part lies therein-a.” He drank a glass

or two of wine at meals; put sirup of gillyflowers into his sack; and

had always a tun glass of small beer standing by him, which he often

stirred about with rosemary. He lived to be a hundred; and never lost

his eye-sight, nor used spectacles. He got on horseback without help;

and rode to the death of the stag, till he was past four-score.[538]

Anciently it was the custom with many country gentlemen to spend their

Christmas in London.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 38·17.

[538] Dr. Drake; from Hutchins’s Dorsetshire.

~December 21.~

ST. THOMAS’S DAY.

Now is a busy day in London, for wardmotes are held in the city by the

aldermen of every ward, “for the election of officers for the year

ensuing;” and hence, in the social public rooms of the citizens, there

is great debate this evening, on the merits of the common-council-men

returned without opposition, or on the qualifications of candidates who

contest the poll for two days longer. The “Lumber-Troop” muster strong

at their head-quarters near Gough-square; the “codgers” enlighten each

other and their pipes in Bride-lane; the “Counsellors under the

Cauliflower” hold divided council, they know where; and the “free and

easy Johns” are to night more free than easy. These societies are under

currents that set in strong, and often turn the tide of an election in

favour of some “good fellow,” who is good no where but in “sot’s-hole.”

And now the “gentlemen of the inquest,” chosen “at the church” in the

morning, dine together as the first important duty of their office; and

the re-elected ward-beadles are busy with the fresh chosen constables;

and the watchmen are particularly civil to every “drunken gentleman” who

happens to look like one of the new authorities. And now the bellman,

who revives the history and poetry of his predecessors, will

vociferate--

_On_ St. Thomas’s _Day_.

My masters all, this is St. _Thomas_’ Day,

And Christmas now can’t be far off, you’ll say,

But when you to the Ward-motes do repair,

I hope such good men will be chosen there,

As _constables_ for the ensuing year

As will not grutch the _watchmen_ good strong beer.[539]

Or,

_Upon the Constables first going out._

The world by sin is so degenerate grown,

Scarce can we strictly call our own, _our own_;

But by the patronage your watch affords,

The thief in vain shall ’tempt the tradesman’s hoards:

Their nightly ease enjoys each happy pair,

Secure as those who first in Eden were:

When willing quires of angels, as they slept,

O’er their soft slumbers watchful centry kept.[540]

DOLEING DAY.

_To the Editor of the Every-Day Book._

_Maidstone, 20th Dec. 1825._

Sir,--There is a custom prevalent in this neighbourhood, and without

doubt at other places, to which I beg to call your attention. The

subject to which I allude is the annual solicitation for charity on St.

Thomas’s day. It has taken place here from time immemorial; consequently

my object in writing is to request you will favour us in your

instructive miscellany, with the origin of the custom, if possible. I

shall relate a few instances of its prevalency which come within my own

knowledge.

At Loose, near Maidstone, Mr. T. Charlton gives the poor of the parish

certain quantities of wheat, apportioned to their families, in addition

to which, his daughters give the widows a new flannel petticoat each;

who, at the same time, go to the other respectable inhabitants of the

place to solicit the usual donation, and it is not an uncommon thing for

a family to get in this way six or seven shillings.

This custom is also prevalent at Linton, an adjoining parish; and I am

informed that lord Cornwallis, who resides there, intends giving to the

resident poor something very considerable. At Barming, C. Whittaker,

esq. is provided with 100 loaves to distribute to the resident poor on

this day, which to my own knowledge is annual on his part; they likewise

go to the other respectable inhabitants, who also give their alms in the

way they think best.

It may not be amiss to say, that the custom here is known by the name of

“Doleing,” and the day is called “Doleing-day.”

If any of your correspondents, or yourself, can throw any light on this

very ancient custom, I have no doubt but it will be very acceptable to

your readers, and to none more than to

Your obliged friend,

W. W.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 37·17.

[539] Bellman’s Treasury, 1707.

[540] Ibid.

~December 22.~

CARD PLAYING.

As on this prevalent custom of the season there have been remarks, an

anecdote from the Worcester Journal of 1760, before servants’ vails were

abolished, and soon after the battle of Minden, may be added.

At a young lady’s rout there appeared a card hung to each of the

candlesticks, with these words, “No card money, but you may speak to the

drummer.” In a corner of a room stood the figure of a drummer on a box,

with a hole in the top to receive money, and the figure held a paper in

its hand containing a dialogue between John and Dick, two of the lady’s

servants, wherein they mutually agreed, “Their wages being fully

sufficient to defray all their reasonable demands, to dispose of the

card money as a token of their regard to the Minden heroes; and, with

their good young lady’s consent, appointed the drummer to be their

receiver.”

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 38·37.

~December 23.~

THE CHRISTMAS DAYS.

_For the Every-Day Book._

Symptoms of the returning season of Christmas and its festivities are

approaching; for the rustics are standing at the street-corners with

boughs of clustering berry-holly with pointed leaves, glossy laurel, and

the pink-eyed lauristina:--the cheesemonger perks a dandy sprig of

evergreen in the centre of his half butter tub, and hangs the griskins

and chines at his doorposts: the show of over-fed beasts is advertised,

and graziers and come-up-to-town farmers, loiter here to see the

prize-cattle and prizes adjudged to the best feeders: butchers begin to

clear all obstructions, and whiten their shambles, and strew sawdust on

the pavement, and in the avenues, to the scales and little

countinghouse box in which sits the female accountant, “brisk as a bee”

and full of the “Ready-reckoner:” fishmongers are no less active in

showing the large eels and dainty fish, that are “fresh as a daisy” and

cold as death: sprats arrive in abundance, and are cried up and down

alleys and streets with wondrous competition: pew-openers now have leave

of their churchwardens to buy quantum sufficit of yew, laurel, holly,

and other evergreens to tie in bunches to the sconces and interior parts

of churches: idle shopkeepers cannot be persuaded yet to clear the filth

from their doors, thinking, perhaps, a temporary obstruction is a

permanent attraction: watchmen now veer forth early at noon, with

lanterns at their breasts, though it would be difficult to read the

secrets deposited within: poulterers are early at market, and their

shops are piled with poultry in a state of nudity and death: the

undertaker is busy, like the tailor, with his work, and the charms of

Christmas give temporary bustle to most classes of tradesmen: the

green-grocer is decorating his half-glazed windows with his best fruits

and most attractive edibles, which are served as luxuries rather than

generous enjoyments; and his sly daughter takes care a certain branch of

the business shall not be forgotten--I allude to

_The Mistletoe._

Sweet emblem of returning peace,

The heart’s full gush, and love’s release;

Spirits in human fondness flow

And greet the pearly _Mistletoe_.

Many a maiden’s cheek is red

By lips and laughter thither led;

And flutt’ring bosoms come and go

Under the druid _Mistletoe_.

Dear is the memory of a theft

When love and youth and joy are left;--

The passion’s blush, the roses glow,

Accept the Cupid _Mistletoe_.

Oh! happy, tricksome time of mirth

Giv’n to the stars of sky and earth!

May all the best of feeling know,

The custom of the _Mistletoe_!

Spread out the laurel and the bay,

For chimney-piece and window gay:

Scour the brass gear--a shining row,

And Holly place with _Mistletoe_.

Married and single, proud and free,

Yield to the season, trim with glee:

Time will not stay,--he cheats us, so--

A kiss?--’tis gone!--the _Mistletoe_.

_Dec. 1826._

*, *, P.

* * * * *

A GLOOMY MORNING BEFORE CHRISTMAS.

It is methinks a morning full of fate!

It riseth slowly, as her sullen car

Had all the weights of sleep and death hung at it!

She is not rosy-finger’d, but swoln black!

Her face is like a water turn’d to blood,

And her sick head is bound about with clouds

As if she threatened night ere noon of day!

It does not look as it would have a hail

Or health wished in it, as of other morns.

_Jonson._

[Illustration: ~The Wonder of the West.~]

“And where did she come from? and who can she be?

Did she fall from the sky? did she rise from the sea?”

Late one evening in the spring of 1817, the rustic inhabitants of

Almondsbury, in Gloucestershire, were surprised by the entrance of a

young female in strange attire. She wore leather shoes and black worsted

stockings, a black stuff gown with a muslin frill at the neck, and a red

and black shawl round her shoulders, and a black cotton shawl on her

head. Her height was about five feet two inches, and she carried a small

bundle on her arm containing a few necessaries. Her clothes were

loosely and tastefully put on in an oriental fashion. Her eyes and hair

were black, her forehead was low, her nose short, her mouth wide, her

teeth white, her lips large and full, her under lip projected a little,

her chin was small and round, her hands were clean and seemed unused to

labour. She appeared about twenty-five years of age, was fatigued,

walked with difficulty, spoke a language no one could comprehend, and

signified by signs her desire to sleep in the village. The cottagers

were afraid to admit her, and sought the decision of Mr. Worrall, a

magistrate for the county, at Knole, whose lady caused her own maid to

accompany her to a public-house in the village, with a request that she

should have a supper, and a comfortable bed.

In the morning Mrs. Worrall found her, with strong traces of sorrow and

distress on her countenance, and took her with her to Knole, but she

went reluctantly. It was Good Friday, and at the mansion, observing a

cross-bun, she cut off the cross, and placed it in her bosom.

Paper and a pen were handed to her to write her name; she shook her

head: and when she appeared to comprehend what was meant, pointed to

herself, and cried “Caraboo.” The next day she was taken to Bristol,

examined before the mayor, at the Council-house, and committed to St.

Peter’s Hospital as a vagrant, whither persons of respectability flocked

to visit the incomprehensible inmate. From that place Mrs. Worrall

removed her once more to Knole. A gentleman, who had made several

voyages to the Indies, extracted from her signs, and gestures, and

articulation, that she was the daughter of a person of rank, of Chinese

origin, at “Javasu,” and that whilst walking in her garden, attended by

three women, she had been gagged, and bound, and carried off, by the

people of a pirate-prow, and sold to the captain of a brig, from whence

she was transferred to another ship, which anchored at a port for two

days, where four other females were taken in, who, after a voyage of

five weeks, were landed at another port: sailing for eleven more weeks,

and being near land, she jumped overboard, in consequence of ill usage,

and swimming ashore, found herself on this coast, and had wandered for

six weeks, till she found her way to Almondsbury. She described herself

at her father’s to have been carried on men’s shoulders, in a kind of

palanquin, and to have worn seven peacocks’ feathers on the right side

of her head, with open sandals on her feet, having wooden soles; and she

made herself a dress from some calico, given her by Mrs. Worrall, in the

style of her own which had been embroidered. The late Mr. Bird, the

artist, sketched her, according to this account, as in the engraving.

[Illustration: ~Caraboo.~]

The particulars connected with these recitals, and her general conduct,

were romantic in the extreme. At the end of two months she disappeared;

and, to the astonishment of the persons whose sympathies she had

excited, the lady Caraboo a native of Javasu, in the east, was

discovered to have been born at Witheridge in Devonshire, where her

father was a cobbler! A very full account of her singular imposition is

given in “A Narrative,” published by Mr. Gutch of Bristol, in 1817, from

whence this sketch is taken. After her remarkable adventures, she found

it convenient to leave this country. A Bath correspondent writes as

follows:--

_To the Editor of the Every-Day Book._

In the year 1824, Caraboo having returned from America, took apartments

in New Bond-street, where she made a public exhibition of

herself--admittance _one shilling_ each person; but it does not appear

that any great number went to see her.

* * * * *

GENTLE CRAFTSMEN,

An opportunity has not occurred, till now, to introduce the following

[Illustration: ~A Lady’s old Shoe, and Clog.~]

It was purposed to have been accompanied by others: as it is, indulgence

is craved for it as a specimen of the art and dexterity of our ancestors

in shoe-making and wearing. It is drawn from the original, purchased by

Mr. J. J. A. F., with other curiosities, at the sale of the Leverian

Museum.

The shoe is of white kid leather, calashed with black velvet. There are

marks of stitches by which ornaments had been affixed to it. Its clog is

simply a straight piece of stout leather, inserted in the underleather

at the toe, and attached to the heel. That such were walked in is

certain; that the fair wearers could have run in them is impossible to

imagine. They were in fashion at the Restoration.

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 38·72.

~December 24.~

ROBIN HOOD.

_For the Every-Day Book._

The 24th of December, among other causes, is rendered remarkable from

its having been the day on which the bold Robin Hood breathed his last,

in the year 1247.

The accounts of the life of this extraordinary outlaw are so various,

and so much mixed up with fable, that to render a true history of him

would be almost impossible.

His real name was Fitz-Ooth, his grandfather, Ralph Fitz-Ooth Earl of

Kyme, whose name appears in the Roll of Battle Abbey, came over to

England with William Rufus, and was married to a daughter of Gilbert de

Gìent earl of Lincoln.[541]

His father, William Fitz-Ooth, in the times of feudal dependancy, was a

ward of Robert earl of Oxford, who, by the King’s order, gave him his

niece in marriage, the third daughter of lady Roisia de Vere, countess

of Essex.[542]

Having dissipated his fortune, Robin Ooth, or Hood, as he was named,

joined a band of depredators, and, as their chief, laid heavy

contributions, for his support, on all such as he deemed rich enough to

bear the loss.

He was famed for his courage, skill in archery, and kindness to the

poor, who often shared with him in the plunder he had taken. The

principal scene of his exploits is said to have been in Sherwood Forest,

and the period, that of the reign of Richard I., thus described by

Stowe:--

“In this time (1190) were many robbers and outlaws; among the which

Robin Hood and Little John, renowned thieves, continued in woods,

dispoyling and plundering the goods of the rich; they killed none but

such as would invade them, or by resistance for their own defence.

“The said Robert entertained an hundred tall men and good archers with

such spoiles and thefts as he got, upon whom four hundred (were they

ever so strong) durst not give the onset. He suffered no woman to be

oppressed, violated, or otherwise molested; poor men’s goods he spared,

abundantly relieving them with that which by theft he got from abbeys,

and the houses of rich earles: whom Major (the historian) blameth for

his rapine and theft, but of all thieves he affirmeth him to be the

prince, and the most gentle theefe.”[543]

“It is said,” writes Baker, “that he was of noble blood, at least made

noble, no less than an earl, for deserving services, but having wasted

his estate in riotous courses, very penury forced him to this

course.”[544]

Robin Hood was the hero of many popular songs, several of which are to

be found in “Evans’s Collection of Old Ballads,” as early as the reign

of Edward III. R. Langlande, a priest, in his “Pierce Plowman’s

Visions,” notices him:--

“I cannot perfitly my Paternoster, as the priest it singeth,

I can rimes of Robenhod and Randal of Chester,

But of our Lorde or our Lady I learne nothyng at all.”

He is reported to have lived till the year 1247; but Baker, in his

“Chronology,” makes his death, which is said to have been caused by

treachery, to have taken place in the reign of Richard I. “The King set

forth a Proclamation to have him apprehended; it happened he fell sick,

at a certain nunnery in Yorkshire, called Berckleys, and desiring to be

let blood, was betrayed, and made to bleed to death.”[545]

The manner of his death is also recorded in an old ballad, entitled

“Robin Hood and the valiant Knight, together with an Account of his

Death and Burial.”

* * * * *

“And Robin Hood he to the green wood,

And there he was taken ill.

And he sent for a monk, to let him blood

Who took his life away;

Now this being done, his archers did run,

It was not time to stay.”

At Kirklees, in Yorkshire, formerly a Benedictine nunnery, is a

gravestone, near the park, under which it is said Robin Hood lies

buried. There is the remains of an inscription on it, but it is quite

illegible. Mr. Ralph Thoresby, in his “Ducatus Leodiensis,” gives the

following as the epitaph:--

“Hear undernead dis laith stean

Laiz Robert Earl of Huntington,

Nea arcir ver az hie sa geude:

An piple kaud im Robin Heud.

Sic utlawz as hi, an iz men,

Wil England never sigh agen.

Obiit 24 kal. Dekembris, 1247.”

Some of his biographers have noticed him as earl of Huntingdon, but they

are not borne out in this by any of the old ballads, this epitaph alone

calling him by that title. All the learned antiquarians agree in giving

no credence to the genuineness of the above composition, alleging, among

other causes, the quaintness of the spelling, and the pace of the metre,

as affording them strong grounds for suspicion.

However strongly the name and exploits of Robin Hood may have been

impressed on our memories from the “oft told” nursery tales, yet we have

lately had it in our power to become more intimately, and, as it were,

personally acquainted with this great chieftain of outlaws, through the

medium of the author of “Waverley,” who has introduced “friend Locksley”

to the readers of his “Ivanhoe,” in such natural and glowing colours, as

to render the forgetting him utterly impossible.

HENRY BRANDON.

_Leadenhall-street._

~Christmas-eve.~

BELLMAN’S VERSES

_Upon Christmas-eve_.

This night (you may my Almanack believe)

Is the return of famous Christmas-eve:

Ye virgins then your cleanly rooms prepare,

And let the windows bays and laurel wear;

Your _Rosemary_ preserve to dress your _Beef_,

Nor forget me, which I advise in chief.

_Another on the same._

Now, _Mrs. Betty_, pray get up and rise,

If you intend to make your _Christmas_ pies:

Scow’ring the pewter falls to _Cisley’s_ share;

And _Margery_ must to clean the house take care:

And let Doll’s ingenuity be seen,

In decking all the windows up with _green_.[546]

* * * * *

It is scarcely necessary to remind the reader, that several notices of

this day have been already presented; yet, many as they are, there are

others from whence a few may be gleaned, with the probability of their

still being acceptable.

With Mr. Leigh Hunt, who is foremost among modern admirers of the old

festivals of the season, Christmas is, as it ought to be, the chief. His

papers, in 1817, which occasioned the following letter, are not at hand

to cite; and, perhaps if they were, the excellent feelings of his “fair

correspondent” might be preferred to some of even _his_ descriptions.

_To the Editor of the Examiner._

Sir,--I am of the number of your readers who recollect, with pleasure

and gratitude, your papers last year on keeping Christmas, and I looked

forward with a hope, which has not been disappointed, that you would

take some notice again of its return. I feel unwilling to intrude on

your valuable time, yet I cannot refrain from thanking you for your

cheering attempts to enforce a due observance of this delightful season.

I thank you in my own name, and I thank you in the name of those to whom

the spring of life is opening in all its natural and heartfelt

enjoyments. I thank you in the name of the more juvenile part of the

holyday circle, who, released from the thraldom of school discipline,

are come _home_, (that expressive word,) to bask awhile in the eyes and

the smiles of their fond parents; and, lastly, I thank you on behalf of

those who have none to plead for them, and to whom pleasure is but a

name--the sick at heart and sick in body, the friendless and the

fatherless, the naked and the hungry. To all of these I hope to extend a

portion of happiness and of help, with a heart full of gratitude to Him

who has “cast my lot in a goodly heritage.” I have, under this feeling,

been for some days past busily employed in preparing for passing

Christmas _worthily_. My beef and mince-meat are ready, (of which, with

some warm garments, my poor neighbours will partake,) and my holly and

_mistletoe_ gathered; for I heartily approve of your article, and am of

opinion that to the false refinement of modern times may be traced the

loss of that primitive and pure simplicity which characterised “other

times.” To your list of “authorities” I beg leave to add that learned

and truly Christian prelate, Bishop Hall, who, in his “Contemplation on

the Marriage of Cana,” so strongly enforces the doctrine, that the

Creator is best honoured in a wise and _rational_ enjoyment of the

creature.

Cordially wishing you the chief of sublunary blessings, _i. e._ health

of body and health of mind, I remain, Sir, your obliged and constant

reader,

A WIFE, A MOTHER, AND

AN ENGLISHWOMAN.

_South Lambeth, Dec. 21, 1818._

* * * * *

In Mr. Nichols’s Collection of Poems there are some pleasant verses,

which seem to have proceeded from his own pen:--

TO H----Y M----N, ESQ.

_On his refusing a_ CHRISTMAS DINNER _with a Friend, on pretence of

gallanting some Ladies to Leicester_.

When you talk about Leicester

I hope you’re a jester.

Why desert an old friend,

For no purpose or end?

But to play the gallant,

With belles who will flaunt,

And who, cruel as vain,

Will rejoice in your pain!

No--Come to our pudding

We’ll put all things good in

Give you beef, the sirloin,

If with us you will dine;

Perhaps too a capon,

With greens and with bacon:

Give you port and good sherry,

To make your heart merry,

Then sit down to a pool,

’Stead of playing the fool;

Or a rubber at whist,

But for this as you list.

Next, give muffins and tea,

As you sometimes give me.

As for supper, you know,

A potato, or so;

Or a bit of cold ham,

As at night we ne’er cram;

Or a tart, if you please,

With a slice of mild cheese.

Then we’ll sing--sing, did I say?

Yes: “The Vicar of Bray;”[547]

And, what I know you don’t hate

“My fond shepherds of late:”[548]

Nor think me a joker,

If I add “Ally Croaker.”[549]

In fine, we’ll sing and delight ye,

Till you say, “Friends, good night t’ ye.”

1780.

N. J.

Whether these verses were written by Mr. Nichols or not, the mention

of his name occasions it to be observed, that about a week before the

present date he died, at the age of eighty-five.

The editor of this humble work, who has derived much assistance in its

progress from the “Gentleman’s Magazine,” which Mr. Nichols edited for

nearly half a century, would omit to do rightly if he were not thus to

acknowledge the obligation. Nor can he recollect without feelings of

respectful gratitude, that his name appeared a few years ago in the

“Domestic Occurrences” of the “Gentleman’s Magazine” with fidelity to

its readers, unaccompanied by remarks which some of its admirers

might, perhaps, at that time have admired. Its critical pages

subsequently distinguished the volume on “Ancient Mysteries” by

approval; and since then they have been pleased to favour, and even

praise, the publication of which this is the last sheet. There was no

personal intimacy to incline such good-will, and therefore it may be

fairly inferred to have resulted from pure feelings and principles of

equity. Mr. Nichols’s rank as a literary antiquary is manifested by

many able and elaborate works. As he declined in life, his active

duties gradually and naturally devolved on his successor: may that

gentleman live as long in health and wealth, and be remembered with as

high honour, as his revered father.

_Dec. 23, 1826._

W. H.

GLASTONBURY THORN.

On Christmas-eve, (new style,) 1753, a vast concourse of people attended

the noted thorn, but to their great disappointment there was no

appearance of its blowing, which made them watch it narrowly the 5th of

January, the Christmas-day, (old style,) when it blowed as

usual.--_London Evening Post._

On the same evening, at Quainton, in Buckinghamshire, above two thousand

people went, with lanterns and candles, to view a blackthorn in that

neighbourhood, and which was remembered to be a slip from the famous

Glastonbury thorn, and that it always budded on the 24th, was full

blown the next day, and went all off at night. The people finding no

appearance of a bud, it was agreed by all, that December 25 (new style)

could not be the right Christmas-day, and accordingly refused going to

church, and treating their friends on that day as usual: at length the

affair became so serious, that the ministers of the neighbouring

villages, in order to appease them, thought it prudent to give notice,

that the _Old_ Christmas-day should be kept holy as before.[550]

* * * * *

This famous hawthorn, which grew on a hill in the church-yard of

Glastonbury-abbey, it has been said, sprung from the staff of St. Joseph

of Arimathea, who having fixed it in the ground with his own hand on

Christmas-day, the staff took root immediately, put forth leaves, and

the _next_ day was covered with milk-white blossoms. It has been added,

that this thorn continued to blow every Christmas-day during a long

series of years, and that slips from the original plant are still

preserved, and continue to blow every Christmas-day to the present time.

There certainly was in the abbey church-yard a hawthorn-tree, which

blossomed in winter, and was cut down in the time of the civil wars: but

that it always blossomed on Christmas-day was a mere tale of the monks,

calculated to inspire the vulgar with notions of the sanctity of the

place. There are several of this species of thorn in England, raised

from haws sent from the east, where it is common. One of our countrymen,

the ingenious Mr. Millar, raised many plants from haws brought from

Aleppo, and all proved to be what are called Glastonbury thorns. This

exotic, or eastern thorn, differs from our common hawthorn in putting

out its leaves very early in spring, and flowering twice a year; for in

mild seasons it often flowers in November or December, and again at the

usual time of the common sort; but the stories that are told of its

budding, blossoming, and fading on Christmas-day are ridiculous, and

only monkish legends.[551]

“HODENING” IN KENT.

At Ramsgate, in Kent, they begin the festivities of Christmas by a

curious musical procession. A party of young people procure the head of

a dead horse, which is affixed to a pole about four feet in length, a

string is tied to the lower jaw, a horse cloth is then attached to the

whole, under which one of the party gets, and by frequently pulling the

string keeps up a loud snapping noise, and is accompanied by the rest of

the party grotesquely habited and ringing hand-bells. They thus proceed

from house to house, sounding their bells and singing carols and songs.

They are commonly gratified with beer and cake, or perhaps with money.

This is provincially called a _hodening_; and the figure above described

a “hoden,” or wooden horse.

This curious ceremony is also observed in the Isle of Thanet on

Christmas-eve, and is supposed to be an ancient relic of a festival

ordained to commemorate our Saxon ancestors’ landing in that

island.[552]

CHRISTMAS POTTAGE.

Amongst the customs observed on Christmas-eve, the Venetians eat a kind

of pottage, which they call _torta de lasagne_, composed of oil, onions,

paste, parsley, pine nuts, raisins, currants, and candied orange peel.

MARSEILLES’ FESTIVAL.

Many festivals, abrogated in France by the revolution, were revived

under Buonaparte. Accordingly, at Marseilles on Christmas-eve all the

members of any family resident in the same town were invited to supper

at the house of the senior of the family, the supper being entirely _au

maigre_, that is, without meat,--after which they all went together to a

solemn mass, which was performed in all the churches at midnight: this

ceremony was called in Provence _faire calène_. After mass the party

dispersed and retired to their respective houses; and the next day,

after attending high mass in the morning, they assembled at dinner at

the same house where they had supped the night before, a turkey being,

as in England, an established part of the dinner. The evening was

concluded with cards, dancing, or any other amusement usual on holydays.

Formerly there had been the midnight mass, which was often irregularly

conducted, and therefore on the revival of the old custom it was

omitted.[553]

* * * * *

CHRISTMAS.

With footstep slow, in furry pall yclad,

His brows enwreathed with holly never sere

Old Christmas comes, to close the wained year;

And aye the shepherd’s heart to make right glad;

Who, when his teeming flocks are homeward had,

To blazing hearth repairs, and nutbrown beer,

And views well pleased the ruddy prattlers dear

Hug the grey mungrel; meanwhile maid and lad

Squabble for roasted crabs. Thee, Sire, we hail,

Whether thine aged limbs thou dost enshroud

In vest of snowy white and hoary veil,

Or wrap’st thy visage in a sable cloud;

Thee we proclaim with mirth and cheer, nor fail

To greet thee well with many a carol loud.

_Bamfylde._

CAROLS.

The practice of singing canticles or carols in the vulgar tongue on

Christmas-eve, and thence called _noels_ in the country churches of

France, had its origin about the time that the common people ceased to

understand Latin. The word _noel_ is derived from _natalis_, and

signified originally a cry of joy at Christmas.[554]

NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature 37·87.

[541] Stukeley’s Palæographia Britannica, No. 11. 1745.

[542] Ibid.

[543] Stowe’s Annals, 159.

[544] Baker’s Chronicles, 94.

[545] Ibid.

[546] Bellman’s Treasury, 1707.

[547] “In good king Charles’s golden days.”

This is said to have been written by an officer in colonel Fuller’s

regiment, in the reign of king George I. It is founded on an

historical fact, and, though it reflects no great honour on the hero

of the poem, is humorously expressive of the complexion of the times

in the successive reigns from Charles II. to George I.

[548] “My fond shepherds of late were so blest.”

A favourite air in Dr. Arne’s “Eliza.”

[549] “There lived a youth in Ballan o Crazy.”

This song is ascribed to a lady of great quality: it does not,

however, abound with the wit which usually flows from female pens; but

it admits of being sung with great humour.

[550] Gentleman’s Magazine.

[551] Communicated by D. B. C. from Boswell’s Antiquities of England

and Wales.

[552] Busby’s Concert Room and Orchestra Anecdotes, &c.

[553] Miss Plumptre.

[554] Burney’s History of Music.

~December 25.~

CHRISTMAS-DAY.

BELLMAN’S VERSES, 1707,

_Upon Christmas Day._

_To the Shepherds._

Go, happy shepherds, leave your flocks and hie

To Bethlem, where your infant Lord doth lie:

And when you’ve view’d his Sacred Person well,

Spare not aloud what you have seen to tell.

Write volumes of these things, and let them bear

The title of the _Shepherd’s Calendar_:

This I assure you never _shepherds_ knew

With all their studies half so much as you.[555]

WHITEHAVEN CUSTOMS.

_To the Editor of the Every-Day Book._

_Whitehaven, 4th Sept. 1826._

Sir,--You furnished your readers last Christmas with a dish, greatly

up-heaped, of information regarding the manner in which it was kept in

various parts of the kingdom. I enclose herein a printed copy of the

play, which is said, or rather sung, at and about that time, by numbers

of boys in this town. The comedians, of which there are many companies,

parade the streets, and ask at almost every door if the _mummers_ are

wanted. They are dressed in the most grotesque fashion; their heads

adorned with high paper caps, gilt and spangled, and their bodies with

ribbons of various colours, while St. George and the prince are armed

with ten swords. The “mysterie” (query?) ends with a song, and

afterwards a collection is made. This is the only relic of ancient times

which exists in this town, excepting, indeed, it be the _Waites_--a few

persons who parade the streets for a fortnight or three weeks before

Christmas, and play upon violins one or two lively jig tunes, and

afterwards call upon the inhabitants for a few pence each. The same

persons, when they hear of a marriage, or of the arrival from abroad of

a sea-faring man, regularly attend and fiddle away till they raise the

person or persons; and for this they expect a trifling remuneration.

I am satisfied you will join me, in surprise, that for so great a number

of years, such a mass of indecent vulgarity as “Alexander and the king

of Egypt,” should been used without alteration.

Upon the death of any individual, poor or rich, in this town, and the

day before the funeral, the parish clerk, or the clerk of the church in

whose church-yard the corpse is to be interred, goes round the town,

with or without mourning as the case may be, and rings a bell, like a

bellman, and thus announces his purpose: “All friends and neighbours are

desired to attend the corpse of A. B. from Queen-street to St. James’s

church to-morrow afternoon at four o’clock.”

Some of these hints may be of use to you--if so I shall rejoice; for a

kinder-hearted publication than yours I never perused.

For the present I am, Mr. Hone,

Yours, most respectfully,

AN ADMIRER OF YOUR EVERY-DAY BOOK.

* * * * *

The tract accompanying the preceding communication is entitled

“Alexander and the King of Egypt; a mock Play, as it is acted by the

Mummers every Christmas. Whitehaven. Printed by T. Wilson, King-street.”

Eight pages, 8vo. An opportunity is thus obligingly afforded of making

the following extracts:

The Every-day Book and Table Book. v. 2 (of 3) or Everlasting Calendar of Popular Amusements, Sports, Pastimes, Ceremonies, Manners, Customs and Events, Incident to Each of the Three Hundred and Sixty-five Days, in past and Present Times; Forming a Complete History of the Year, Month, and Seasons, and a Perpetual Key to the Almanac · 第 11 / 16 章

Winter may be now considered as having set in; and we have often violent