The English public has ever been distinguished by an enormous amount of
gullibility.
"Ha ha, ha ha! this world doth pass
Most merrily I'll be sworn;
For many an honest Indian ass
Goes for an unicorn."
So sung old Thomas Weelkes in the year 1608, and so echo we in the year
1853! What with "spirit-rapping," "table-moving," "Chelsea ghosts,"
"Aztec children," &c., we shall soon, if we go on at the same rate, get
the reputation of being past all cure.
In looking over, the other day, a volume in the Museum, marked MS. Sloane
958., I noticed the following hand-bill pasted on the first page:
"At the sign of the Wool-sack, in Newgate Market, is to be seen
a strange and wonderful thing, which is an _elm board_, being
touched with a hot iron, doth express itself as if it were a
man dying _with groans_, and trembling, to the great admiration
of all the hearers. It hath been presented before the king and
his nobles, and hath given great satisfaction. _Vivat Rex._"
At the top of the bill is the king's arms, and the letters C. R., and in
an old hand is written the date 1682. On the same page is an autograph of
the original possessor of the volume, "Ex libris Jo. Coniers, Londini,
pharmacopol, 1673."
In turning to Malcolm (_Anecdotes of the Manners and Customs of London_,
4to. 1811, p. 427.), we find the following elucidation of this mysterious
exhibition:
"One of the most curious and ingenious amusements ever offered
to the publick ear was contrived in the year 1682, when an elm
plank was exhibited to the king and the credulous of London,
which being touched by a hot iron, invariably produced a sound
resembling deep groans. This sensible, and very irritable
board, received numbers of noble visitors; and other boards,
sympathising with their afflicted brother, demonstrated how
much affected they might be by similar means. The publicans
in different parts of the city immediately applied ignited
metal to all the woodwork of their houses, in hopes of finding
sensitive timber; but I do {310} not perceive any were so
successful as the landlord of the Bowman Tavern in Drury Lane,
who had a mantle tree so extremely prompt and loud in its
responses, that the sagacious observers were nearly unanimous
in pronouncing it part of the same trunk which had afforded the
original plank."
The following paragraph is also given by Malcolm from the _Loyal London
Mercury_, Oct. 4, 1682:
"Some persons being this week drinking at the Queen's Arms
Tavern, in St. Martin's-le-Grand, in the kitchen, and
having laid the fire-fork in the fire to light their pipes,
accidentally fell a discoursing of the _groaning-board_, and
what might be the cause of it. One in the company, having the
fork in his hand to light his pipe, would needs make trial of
a long dresser that stood there, which, upon the first touch,
made a great noise and groaning, more than ever the board that
was showed did; and then they touched it three or four times,
and found it far beyond the other. They all having seen it, the
house is almost filled with spectators day and night, and any
company calling for a glass of wine may see it; which, in the
judgment of all, is far louder, and makes a longer groan than
the other; which to report, unless seen, would seem incredible."
Among the _Bagford Ballads_ in the Museum (three vols., under the
press-mark 643. m.) is preserved the following singular broadside upon
the subject, which is now reprinted for the first time:
"A NEW SONG, ON THE STRANGE AND WONDERFUL GROANING-BOARD.
"What fate inspir'd thee with groans,
To fill phanatick brains?
What is't thou sadly thus bemoans,
In thy prophetick strains?
"Art thou the ghost of _William Pryn_,
Or some old politician?
Who, long tormented for his sin,
Laments his sad condition?
"Or must we now believe in thee,
The old cheat transmigration?
And that thou now art come to be
A call to reformation?
"The giddy vulgar to thee run,
Amaz'd with fear and wonder;
Some dare affirm, that hear thee groan,
Thy noise is petty thunder.
"One says and swears, you do foretell
A change in Church and State;
Another says, you like not well
Your master _Stephen's_ fate.[1]
"Some say you groan much like a _whigg_,
Or rather like a _ranter_;
Some say as loud, and full as big,
As _Conventicle Canter_.
"Some say you do petition,
And think you represent
The woe and sad condition
Of Old _Rump Parliament_.
"The wisest say you are a cheat;
Another politician
Says, 'tis a misery as great
And true as _Hatfield's vision_.[2]
"Some say, 'tis a _new evidence_,
Or witness of the _plot_;
And can discover many things
Which are the Lord knows what.
"And lest you should the _plot_ disgrace,
For wanting of a name,
_Narrative Board_ henceforth we'll place
In registers of fame.
"London: Printed for T. P. in the year 1682."
The extraordinary and long-lived popularity of the "groaning-board" is
fully evinced by the number of cotemporary allusions: a few will suffice.
Mrs. Mary Astell, in her _Essay in Defence of the Female Sex_, 1696,
speaking of the character of a "coffee-house politician," observes:
"He is a mighty listener after prodigies: and never hears of
a whale or a comet, but he apprehends some sudden revolution
in the state, and looks upon a _groaning-board_, or a
speaking-head, as forerunners of the day of judgment."
Swift, in his _Tale of a Tub_, written in the following year (1697), says
of Jack:
"He wore a large plaister of artificiall causticks on his
stomach, with the fervor of which he would set himself a
_groaning_ like the famous _board_ upon application of a
red-hot iron."
Steele, in the 44th number of the _Tatler_, speaking of Powell, the
"puppet showman," says:
"He has not brains enough to make even wood speak as it ought
to do: and I, that have heard the _groaning-board_, can despise
all that his puppets shall be able to speak as long as they
live."
So much for the "story" of the _groaning-board_. As to "how it was done,"
we leave the matter open to the reader's sagacity.