The style of driving an ox-team in Devonshire is remarkable, indeed,
cannot pass unnoticed by a stranger. The language, though in a great
degree peculiar to the country, does not arrest the attention, but the
tone, or rather tune, in which it is delivered. It resembles, with
great exactness, the chantings, or recitative of the cathedral service.
The plowboy chants the counter-tenor, with unabated ardour, through the
day; the plowman, throwing in, at intervals, his hoarser notes. It is
understood that this chanting march, which may sometimes be heard at
a considerable distance, encourages and animates the team, like the
music of a marching army, or the song of the rowers.
TWO INSTANCES OF THE SURPRISING EFFECTS OF MUSIC, AS RELATED IN THE
HISTORY OF THE ROYAL ACADEMY OF SCIENCES, AT PARIS.
A famous musician, and great composer, was taken ill of a fever,
which gradually increased, till the 7th day, when he was seized with
a violent delirium, almost constantly accompanied by cries, tears,
terrors, and a perpetual watchfulness. The third day of his delirium,
one of those natural instincts, which makes, as it is said, sick
animals seek out for the herbs that are proper for their case, set him
upon desiring earnestly to hear a little concert in his chamber. His
physician could hardly be prevailed upon to grant his request. Some
cantatas, however, were sung to him. On hearing the first modulations,
his countenance became serene, his eyes sparkled with joy, his
convulsions absolutely ceased, he shed tears of pleasure, and was then
possessed with a sensibility for music, which he never had before, nor
after his perfect recovery. He had no fever during the whole concert,
but, when it was over, he relapsed into his former condition. The use
of a remedy, of which the success had been so unexpected, and yet so
fortunate, was continued. The fever and delirium were always suspended
during the concerts, and music was become so necessary to the patient,
that, at night, he obliged a female relation, who sometimes sat up
with him, to sing, and even to dance, and who, found some difficulty
in gratifying him in such a point of complaisance. One night, among
others, having none but his nurse to attend him, who could sing nothing
better than some wretched country ballads, was obliged to take up with
them, and even appeared satisfied, and found some benefit from the
same. At length, ten days of music entirely cured him, without any
other assistance, than being bled in the foot, which was prescribed
for him as necessary. This account was communicated to the Academy, by
Monsieur Dodart, who had it well authenticated. He does not pretend
that it may serve as an example or rule, in all similar cases, but
observes, it is curious to notice, how musical sounds could have
restored the spirits to their natural course, in a man who had so long
been habituated to music.
The second instance of the extraordinary effect of music, is related
of a dancing-master of Alais, in the province of Languedoc. Being once
over fatigued, in Carnival time, by the exercise of his profession,
he was seized with a violent fever, and, on the fourth or fifth day,
fell into a lethargy, which continued upon him for a considerable
time. On recovering out of it, he was seized with a furious and mute
delirium, wherein he made continual efforts to jump out of the bed;
threatened, with a shaking of the head, and an angry countenance, those
that hindered him, and even all that were present; and he, besides,
obstinately refused, though without speaking a word, all the remedies
that were presented to him. One of the assistants bethought himself,
that music, perhaps, might compose so disordered an imagination.
Accordingly, he proposed it to his physician, who did not disapprove
the thought, but feared the ridicule that might take place, should the
patient happen to die during the performance of such a remedy. A friend
of the dancing-master being present, who seemed regardless of the
physician’s measures, and who knew how to play on the violin, seeing
the patient’s hang up in the chamber, laid hold of it, and played
directly to him, the airs that were most familiar to him. He was cried
out against, as a greater madman than the poor sick prisoner in bed,
and some were going to make him desist, when the patient immediately
jumped up, and appeared agreeably surprised, and specified, by the
motion of his head, the pleasure he felt. By degrees, he appeared so
much recovered, that those who held his arms, being sensible of the
effects the violin had on him, remitted something of their force in
keeping him down, and at last yielded to the motions he was desirous
to give them, when, in so doing, they found his furious fits quite
abated. In short, in a quarter of an hour’s time, the patient fell into
a profound sleep, and shortly after was perfectly recovered.