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 (part 6 of 8)
Envy and prejudice raised a variety of obstacles to the accomplishment of his designs and undertakings; and if he had not been liberally and powerfully protected by the duke of Bridgwater, his triumph over the opposition with which he encountered must have been considerably obstructed. The duke possessed an estate at Worsley, about seven miles from Manchester, rich in mines of coal, from which he derived little or no advantage, on account of the expense attending the conveyance by land carriage to a suitable market. A canal from Worsley to Manchester, Mr. Brindley declared to be practicable. His grace obtained an act for that purpose; and Brindley was employed in the conduct and execution of this, the first undertaking of the kind ever attempted in England, with navigable subterraneous tunnels and elevated aqueducts. At the commencement of the business it was determined, that the level of the water should be preserved without the usual obstruction of locks, and to carry the canal over rivers and deep vallies. It was not easy to obtain a sufficient supply of water for completing the navigation, but Brindley, furnished with ample resources, persevered, and conquered all the embarrassments, occasioned by the nature of the undertaking, and by the passions and prejudices of individuals. Having completed the canal as far as Barton, where the river Irwell is navigable for large vessels, he proposed to carry it over that river by an aqueduct thirty-nine feet above the surface of the water. This was considered as a chimerical and extravagant project; and an eminent engineer said, “I have often heard of castles in the air, but never before was shown where any of them were to be erected.” The duke of Bridgwater, confiding in the judgment of Brindley, empowered him to prosecute the work; and in about ten months the aqueduct was completed. This astonishing work commenced in September, 1760, and the first boat sailed over it the 17th of July, 1761. The canal was then extended to Manchester, where Mr. Brindley’s ingenuity in diminishing labour by mechanical contrivances, was exhibited in a machine for landing coals upon the top of a hill.
The duke of Bridgwater extended his views to Liverpool; and obtained, in 1762, an act of parliament for branching his canal to the tide-way in the Mersey. This part is carried over the river Mersey and Bollan, and over many wide and deep vallies. Over the vallies it is conducted without a single lock; and across the valley at Stretford, through which the Mersey runs, a mound of earth, raised for preserving the water, extends for nearly a mile. In the execution of every part of the navigation, Mr. Brindley displayed singular skill and ingenuity; and in order to facilitate his purpose, he produced many valuable machines. His economy and forecast are peculiarly discernible in the stops, or flood-gates, fixed in the canal, where it is above the level of the land. They are so constructed, that if any of the banks should give way and occasion a current, the adjoining gates will rise merely by that motion, and prevent any other part of the water from escaping than that which is near the breach between the two gates.
Encouraged by the success of the duke of Bridgwater’s undertakings, a subscription was entered into by a number of gentlemen and manufacturers in Staffordshire, for constructing a canal through that county. In 1766, this canal, “The Grand Trunk Navigation,” was begun; and it was conducted with spirit and success, under the direction of Brindley, as long as he lived.
After this, Brindley constructed a canal from the Grand Trunk, near Haywood, in Staffordshire, to the river Severn near Bewdley, connecting Bristol with Liverpool and Hull. This canal, about forty-six miles in length, was completed in 1772. His next undertaking was a canal from Birmingham, which should unite with the Staffordshire and Worcestershire canal near Wolverhampton. It is twenty six miles in length, and was finished in about three years. To avoid the inconvenience of locks, and for the more effectual supply of the canal with water, he advised a tunnel at Smethwick; his advice was disregarded; and the managers were afterwards under the necessity of erecting two steam engines. He executed the canal from Droitwich to the Severn, for the conveyance of salt and coals; and planned the Coventry navigation, which was for some time under his direction; but a dispute arising, he resigned his office. Some short time before his death, he began the Oxfordshire canal, which, uniting with the Coventry canal, serves as a continuation of the Grand Trunk navigation to Oxford, and thence by the Thames to London.
Mr. Brindley’s last undertaking was the canal from Chesterfield to the river Trent at Stockwith. He surveyed and planned the whole, and executed some miles of the navigation, which was finished five years after his death by his brother-in-law, Mr. Henshall, in 1777. Such was Mr. Brindley’s established reputation, that few works of this kind were undertaken without his advice. They are too numerous to be particularized, but it may be added that he gave the corporation of Liverpool a plan for clearing their docks of mud, which has been practised with success; and proposed a method, which has also succeeded, of building walls against the sea without mortar. The last of his inventions was an improved machine for drawing water out of mines, by a losing and gaining bucket, which he afterwards employed with advantage in raising coals.
When difficulties occurred in the execution of any of Mr. Brindley’s works, he had no recourse to books, or to the labours of other persons. All his resources were in his own inventive mind. He generally retired to bed, and lay there one, two, or three days, till he had devised the expedients which he needed for the accomplishment of his objects; he then got up, and executed his design without any drawing or model, which he never used, except for the satisfaction of his employers. His memory was so tenacious, that he could remember and execute all the parts of the most complex machine, provided he had time, in his previous survey, to settle, in his mind, the several departments, and their relations to each other. In his calculations of the powers of any machine, he performed the requisite operation by a mental process, in a manner which none knew but himself, and which, perhaps, he was not able to communicate to others. After certain intervals of consideration, he noted down the result in figures; and then proceeded to operate upon that result, until at length the complete solution was obtained, which was generally right. His want of literature, indeed, compelled him to cultivate, in an extraordinary degree, the art of memory; and in order to facilitate the revival, in his mind, of those visible objects and their properties, to which his attention was chiefly directed, he secluded himself from the external impressions of other objects, in the solitude of his bed.
Incessant attention to important and interesting objects, precluded Mr. Brindley from any of the ordinary amusements of life, and indeed, prevented his deriving from them any pleasure. He was once prevailed upon by his friends in London to see a play, but he found his ideas so much disturbed, and his mind rendered so unfit for business, as to induce him to declare, that he would not on any account go to another. It is not improbable, however, that by indulging an occasional relaxation, remitting his application, and varying his pursuits, his life might have been prolonged. The multiplicity of his engagements, and the constant attention which he bestowed on them, brought on a hectic fever, which continued, with little or no intermission, for some years, and at last terminated his useful and honourable career, in the 56th year of age. He was buried at New Chapel, in the same county.
Such was the enthusiasm with which this extraordinary man engaged in all schemes of inland navigation, that he seemed to regard all rivers with contempt, when compared with canals. It is said, that in an examination before the house of commons, when he was asked for what purpose he apprehended rivers were created, he replied, after some deliberation, “to feed navigable canals.” Those who knew him well, highly respected him “for the uniform and unshaken integrity of his conduct; for his steady attachment to the interest of the community; for the vast compass of his understanding, which seemed to have a natural affinity with all grand objects; and, likewise, for many noble and beneficial designs, constantly generating in his mind, and which the multiplicity of his engagements, and the shortness of his life, prevented him from bringing to maturity.”[357]
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 55·50.
[357] Rees’s Cyclopædia. Biog. Brit.
~September 28.~
MADAME GENEVA LYING IN STATE.
On the 28th of September, 1736, when the “Gin Act,” which was passed to prevent the retailing of spirituous liquors in small quantities was about to be enforced, it was deemed necessary to send a detachment of sixty soldiers from Kensington to protect the house of sir Joseph Jekyl, the master of the rolls in Chancery-lane, from the violence threatened by the populace against that eminent lawyer for his endeavours in procuring the obnoxious statute.
The keepers of the gin-shops testified their feelings by a parade of mock ceremonies for “Madame Geneva lying-in-state,” which created a mob about their shops, and the justices thought proper to commit some of the chief mourners to prison. On this occasion, the signs of the punch-houses were put in mourning; and lest others should express the bitterness of their hearts by committing violences, the horse and foot-guards and trained bands were ordered to be properly stationed. Many of the distillers, instead of spending their time in empty lamentations, betook themselves to other branches of industry. Some to the brewing trade, which raised the price of barley and hops; some took taverns in the universities, which nobody could do before the “Gin Act,” without leave of the vice-chancellor; others set up apothecaries’ shops. The only persons who took out fifty pound licenses were one Gordon, Mr. Ashley of the London punch-house, and one more. Gordon, a punch-seller in the Strand, devised a new punch made of strong Madeira wine, and called Sangre.[358]
COUNTY CUSTOMS.
It may be hoped that our readers who live in the apple districts will communicate the usages of their neighbourhoods to the Every-Day Book. For the present we must thank “an old correspondent.”
GRIGGLING.
To the Editor of the Every-Day Book.
Dear Sir,--The more I read of your Every-Day Book, the stronger my recollection returns to my boyhood days. There is not a season wherein I felt greater delight than during the gathering in of the orchards’ produce. The cider barrels cleaned and aired from the cellar--the cider-mill ready--the baskets and press, the vats, the horse-hair cloths, and the loft, fitted for the process and completion of making cider--the busy people according to Philips, seek--
The pippin, burnish’d o’er with gold, Of sweetest honey’d taste, the fair permain, Temper’d like comeliest nymph, with white and red.
* * * * *
Let every tree in every garden own, The redstreak as supreme, whose pulpous fruit, With gold irradiate, and vermillion shines. Hail Herefordian plant! that dost disdain All other fields.
The Herefordshire cider is so exquisite, that when the earl of Manchester was ambassador in France, he is said frequently to have passed this beverage on their nobility for a delicious wine.
Leasing in the corn-fields after the sheaves are borne to the garner, is performed by villagers of all ages, that are justly entitled to glean, like ants, the little store against a rainy day. But after the orchard is cleared, (and how delightful a shower--the shaking the Newton instructing apples down,) the village (not chimney-sweepers) climbing boys collect in a possé, and with poles and bags, go into the orchard and commence griggling.
The small apples are called griggles. These, the farmers leave pretty abundantly on the trees, with an understanding that the urchins will have mercy on the boughs, which, if left entirely bare, would suffer. Suspended like monkeys, the best climbers are the ring-leaders; and less boys pick up and point out where an apple still remains. After the trees are cleared, a loud huzza crowns the exertion; and though a little bickering as to the quality and quantity ensues, they separate with their portion, praising or blaming the owner, proportionate to their success. If he requests it, which is often the case before they depart, the head boy stands before the house, and uncovered, he recites the well-known fable in the “Universal Spelling Book”--“A rude boy stealing apples.”--Then the hostess, or her daughter, brings a large jug of cider and a slice of bread and cheese, or twopence, to the great pleasure of the laughing recipients of such generous bounty.
Down to the present month the custom of griggling is continued with variation in the western hamlets, though innovation, which is the abuse of privilege, has prevented many orchard-owners allowing the boys their griggling perambulations.
With much respect, I am, &c.
P.---- T.----
*, *, P.
September 20, 1826.
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 53·37.
[358] Gentleman’s Magazine.
~September 29.~
ST. MICHAEL.
In the former volume, there are particulars of St. Michael, at col. 500, 629, and 1325. To the latter article, there is a print of this archangel, with six others of his order: on the present page he appears with other characteristics.
This print from a large engraving on copper, by one of the Caracci family in 1582, after a picture by Lorenzo Sabbatini of Bologna, represents the holy family, and St. John, and St. Michael standing on the devil, and presenting souls to the infant Jesus from a pair of scales. The artist has adopted this mode to convey a notion of the archangel, in quality of his office, as chief of the guardian angels, and judge of the claims of departed spirits. In vol. i. p. 630, there are notices relative to St. Michael in this capacity.
* * * * *
The church of Notre Dame, at Paris, rebuilt by “devout king Robert,” was conspicuously honoured by a statue of the chief of the angelic hierarchy, with his scales. “On the top, and pinnacle before the said church,” says Favine, “is yet to be seene the image of the arch-angell St. Michael, the tutelaric angell, and guardian of the most christian monarchie of France, ensculptured after the antique forme, holding a ballance in the one hand, and a crosse in the other; on his head, and toppe of his wings, are fixed and cramponned strong pikes of iron to keepe the birds from pearching thereon.”
Favine proceeds to mention a popular error concerning these “pikes of iron,” to defend the statue from the birds. “The ignorant vulgar conceived that this was a crowne of eares of corne, and thought it to be the idole of the goddesse Ceres.” He says this is “a matter wherein they are much deceived; for Isis and Ceres being but one and the same, her temple was at S. Ceour and S. Germain des Prez.”[359]
Louis XI. instituted an order in honour of St. Michael, the arch-angel, on occasion of an alleged apparition of the saint on the bridge at Orleans, when that city was besieged by the English in 1428.
ST. GEORGE.
It has been intimated in vol. i., col. 500, that there are grounds to imagine “that St. George and the dragon are neither more nor less than St. Michael contending with the devil.” The reader who desires further light on this head, will derive it from a dissertation by Dr. Pettingall, expressly on the point. It may here, perhaps, be opportune to introduce the usual representation of St. George and the dragon, by an impression from an original wood-block, obligingly presented to this work by Mr. Horace Rodd.
To-morrow morning we shall have you look, For all your great words, like St. George at Kingston, Running a footback from the furious dragon, That with her angrie tail belabours him For being lazie.
Woman’s Prize.
So say Beaumont and Fletcher, from whence we learn that the prowess of “St. George for England,” was ludicrously travestied.
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 55·27.
[359] Theater of Honour, Lond. 1623, fol.
~September 30.~
THE SEASON.
It is noted under the present day in the “Perennial Calendar,” that at this time the heat of the middle of the days is still sufficient to warm the earth, and cause a large ascent of vapour: that the chilling frosty nights, which are also generally very calm, condense into mists; differing from clouds only in remaining on the surface of the ground.
Now by the cool declining year condensed, Descend the copious exhalations, check’d As up the middle sky unseen they stole, And roll the doubling fogs around the hill. . . . . . . Thence expanding far, The huge dusk gradual swallows up the plain Vanish the woods; the dimseen river seems Sullen and slow to roll the misty wave. Even in the height of noon oppressed, the sun Sheds weak and blunt his wide refracted ray; Whence glaring oft, with many a broadened orb, He frights the nations. Indistinct on earth, Seen through the turbid air, beyond the life Objects appear, and wildered o’er the waste, The shepherd stalks gigantic.
“EXTRAORDINARY NEWS!”
To the Editor of the Every-Day Book.
Sir,--The character and manners of a people may be often correctly ascertained by an attentive examination of their familiar customs and sayings. The investigation of these peculiarities, as they tend to enlarge the knowledge of human nature, and illustrate national history, as well as to mark the fluctuation of language, and to explain the usages of antiquity, is, therefore, deserving of high commendation; and, though occasionally, in the course of those inquiries, some whimsical stories are related, and some very homely phrases and authorities cited, they are the occurrences of every day, and no way seem to disqualify the position in which several amusing and popular customs are brought forward to general view. Under this impression, it will not be derogatory to the Every-Day Book, to observe that by such communications, it will become an assemblage of anecdotes, fragments, remarks, and vestiges, collected and recollected:--
------------Various,--that the mind Of desultory man, studious of change, And pleas’d with novelty, may be indulged.
Cowper.
Should the following extract, from a volume of Miscellaneous Poems, edited by Elijah Fenton, and printed by Bernard Lintot, without date, but anterior to 1720, in octavo, be deemed by you, from the foregoing observations, deserving of notice, it is at your service.
Old Bennet was an eccentric person, at the early part of the last century, who appears to have excited much noise in London.
On the Death of OLD BENNET, the News Cryer.
“One evening, when the sun was just gone down, As I was walking thro’ the noisy town, A sudden silence through each street was spread, As if the soul of London had been fled. Much I inquired the cause, but could not hear, } Till fame, so frightened, that she did not dare } To raise her voice, thus whisper’d in my ear: } Bennet, the prince of hawkers, is no more, Bennet, my Herald on the British shore; Bennet, by whom, I own myself outdone, Tho’ I a hundred mouths, he had but one. He, when the list’ning town he would amuse, Made echo tremble with his ‘bloody news.’ No more shall Echo, now his voice return, Echo for ever must in silence mourn.-- Lament, ye heroes, who frequent the wars, The great proclaimer of your dreadful scars. Thus wept the conqueror, who the world o’ercame, Homer was wanting to enlarge his fame Homer, the first of hawkers that is known, Great news from Troy, cried up and down the town. None like him has there been for ages past, Till our stentorian Bennet came at last. Homer and Bennet were in this agreed, Homer was blind, and Bennet could not read.”
“Bloody News!” “Great Victory!” or more frequently “Extraordinary Gazette!” were, till recently, the usual loud bellowings of fellows, with stentorian lungs, accompanied by a loud blast of a long tin-horn, which announced to the delighted populace of London, the martial achievements of the modern Marlborough. These itinerants, for the most part, were the link-men at the entrances to the theatres; and costermongers, or porters, assisting in various menial offices during the day. A copy of the “Gazette,” or newspaper they were crying, was generally affixed under the hatband, in front, and their demand for a newspaper generally one shilling.
Those newscriers are spoken of in the past sense, as the further use of the horn is prohibited by the magistracy, subject to a penalty of ten shillings for a first offence, and twenty shillings on the conviction of repeating so heinous a crime. “Oh, dear!” as Crockery says, I think in these times of “modern improvement,” every thing is changing, and in many instances, much for the worse.
I suspect that you, Mr. Editor, possess a fellow-feeling on the subject, and shall no further trespass on your time, or on the reader’s patience, than by expressing a wish that many alterations were actuated by manly and humane intentions, and that less of over-legislation and selfishness were evinced in these pretended endeavours to promote the good of society.
I am, &c.
J. H. B.
* * * * *
The present month can scarcely be better closed than with some exquisite stanzas from the delightful introduction to the “Forest Minstrel and other Poems, by William and Mary Howitt.” Mr. Howitt speaks of his “lightly caroll’d lays,” as--
------ never, surely, otherwise esteem’d Than a bird’s song, that, fill’d with sweet amaze At the bright opening of the young, green spring, Pours out its simple joy in instant warbling.
For never yet was mine the proud intent To give the olden harp a thrilling sound, Like those great spirits who of late have sent Their wizard tones abroad, and all around This wond’rous world have wander’d; and have spent, In court and camp, on bann’d and holy ground, Their gleaning glances; and, in hall and bower, Have learn’d of mortal life the passions and the power:
Eyeing the masters of this busy earth, In all the changes of ambition’s toil, From the first struggles of their glory’s birth, Till robed in power--till wearied with the spoil Of slaughter’d realms, and dealing woe and dearth To miserable men--and then the foil To this great scene, the vengeance, and the frown With which some mightier hand has pull’d those troublers down:
Eyeing the passages of gentler life, And different persons, of far different scenes; The boy, the beau--the damsel, and the wife-- Life’s lowly loves--the loves of kings and queens; Each thing that binds us, and each thing that weans Us from this state, with pains and pleasures rife; The wooings, winnings, weddings, and disdainings Of changeful men, their fondness and their feignings:
And then have brought us home strange sights and sounds From distant lands, of dark and awful deeds; And fair and dreadful spirits; and gay rounds Of mirth and music; and then mourning weeds; And tale of hapless love that sweetly wounds The gentle heart, and its deep fondness feeds; Lapping it up in dreams of sad delight From its own weary thoughts, in visions wild and bright:--
Oh! never yet to me the power or will To match these mighty sorcerers of the soul Was given; but on the bosom, lone and still, Of nature cast, I early wont to stroll Through wood and wild, o’er forest, rock, and hill, Companionless; without a wish or goal, Save to discover every shape and voice Of living thing that there did fearlessly rejoice.
And every day that boyish fancy grew; And every day those lonely scenes became Dearer and dearer, and with objects new, All sweet and peaceful, fed the young spirit’s flame Then rose each silent woodland to the view, A glorious theatre of joy! then came Each sound a burst of music on the air, That sank into the soul to live for ever there!
Oh, days of glory! when the young soul drank Delicious wonderment through every sense! And every tone and tint of beauty sank Into a heart that ask’d not how, or whence Came the dear influence; from the dreary blank Of nothingness sprang forth to an existence Thrilling and wond’rous; to enjoy--enjoy The new and glorious blessing--was its sole employ.
To roam abroad amidst the mists, and dews, And brightness of the early morning sky, When rose and hawthorn leaves wore tenderest hues: To watch the mother linnet’s stedfast eye, Seated upon her nest; or wondering muse On her eggs’s spots, and bright and delicate dye; To peep into the magpie’s thorny hall, Or wren’s green cone in some hoar mossy wall;
To hear of pealing bells the distant charm, As slow I wended down some lonely dale, Past many a bleating flock, and many a farm And solitary hall; and in the vale To meet of eager hinds a hurrying swarm, With staves and terriers hastening to assail Polecat, or badger, in their secret dens, Or otter lurking in the deep and reedy fens
To pass through villages, and catch the hum Forth bursting from some antiquated school, Endow’d long since by some old knight, whose tomb Stood in the church just by; to mark the dool Of light-hair’d lads that inly rued their doom, Prison’d in that old place, that with the tool, Stick-knife or nail, of many a sly offender, Was carved and figured over, wall, and desk, and window;
To meet in green lanes happy infant bands, Full of health’s luxury, sauntering and singing, A childish, wordless melody; with hands Cowslips, and wind-flowers, and green brook-lime bringing; Or weaving caps of rushes; or with wands Guiding their mimic teams; or gaily swinging On some low sweeping bough, and clinging all One to the other fast, till, laughing, down they fall;
To sit down by some solitary man, Hoary with years, and with a sage’s look, In some wild dell where purest waters ran, And see him draw forth his black-letter book, Wond’ring, and wond’ring more, as he began, On it, and then on many an herb to look, That he had wander’d wearily and wide, To pluck from jutting rocks, and woods, and mountain side;
And then, as he would wash his healing roots In the clear stream, that ever went singing on, Through banks o’erhung with herbs and flowery shoots, Leaning as if they loved its gentle tune, To hear him tell of many a plant that suits Fresh wound, or fever’d frame; and of the moon Shedding o’er weed and wort her healing power, For gifted wights to cull in her ascendant hour;
To lie abroad on nature’s lonely breast, Amidst the music of a summer’s sky, Where tall, dark pines the northern bank invest Of a still lake; and see the long pikes lie Basking upon the shallows; with dark crest, And threat’ning pomp, the swan go sailing by; And many a wild fowl on its breast that shone, Flickering like liquid silver, in the joyous sun:
The duck, deep poring with his downward head, Like a buoy floating on the ocean wave; The Spanish goose, like drops of crystal, shed The water o’er him, his rich plumes to lave; The beautiful widgeon, springing upward, spread His clapping wings; the heron, stalking grave, Into the stream; the coot and water-hen Vanish into the flood, then, far off, rise again;
And when warm summer’s holiday was o’er, And the bright acorns patter’d from the trees When fires were made, and closed was every door, And winds were loud, or else a chilling breeze Came comfortless, driving cold fogs before: On dismal, shivering evenings, such as these, To pass by cottage windows, and to see, Round a bright hearth, sweet faces shining happily;
These were the days of boyhood! Oh! such days Shall never, never more return again-- When the fresh heart, all witless of the ways, The sickening, sordid, selfish ways of men, Danced in creation’s pure and placid blaze, Making an Eden of the loneliest glen! Darkness has follow’d fast, and few have been The rays of sunlight cast upon life’s dreary scene.
For years of lonely thought, in morning-tide Of life, will make a spirit all unfit To brook of men the waywardness and pride; Too proud itself to woo, or to submit; Scorning, as vile, what all adore beside, And deeming only glorious the soul lit With the pure flame of knowledge, and the eye Filled with the gentle love of the bright earth and sky.
Fancy’s spoil’d child will ever surely be A thing of nothing in the worldly throng: Wrapp’d up in dreams that they can never see; Listening to fairy harp, or spirit’s song, Where all to them is stillest vacancy: For ever seeking, as he glides along, Some kindred heart, that feels as he has felt, And can read each thought that with him long has dwelt.
But place him midst creation!--let him stand Where wave and mountain revel in his sight, Then shall his soul triumphantly expand, With gathering power, and majesty, and light! The world beneath him is the temple plann’d For him to worship in; and, pure and bright, Heaven’s vault above, the proud eternal dome Of his Almighty Sire, and his own future home!
With such inspiring fancies, mortal pride Shrinks into nothing; and all mortal things He casts, as weeds cast by the ocean tide, From its embraces; the world’s scorn he flings Back on itself, disdaining to divide, With its low cares, that sensitive spirit that brings Home to his breast all nature’s light and glee, Holding with sunshine, clouds, and gales, unearthly revelry.
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 54·17.
Then, for “October Month,” they put A rude illuminated cut-- Reaching ripe grapes from off the vine, Or pressing them, or tunning wine; Or, something to denote that there Was vintage at this time of year.
We have “hopes and fears” for the year at all seasons, as we have for ourselves “in infancy” and throughout life. After the joyousness of summer comes the season of foreboding, for “the year has reached its grand climacteric, and is fast falling ‘into the sere, the yellow leaf.’ Every day a flower drops from out the wreath that binds its brow--not to be renewed. Every hour the sun looks more and more askance upon it, and the winds, those summer flatterers, come to it less fawningly. Every breath shakes down showers of its leafy attire, leaving it gradually barer and barer, for the blasts of winter to blow through it. Every morning and evening takes away from it a portion of that light which gives beauty to its life, and chills it more and more into that torpor which at length constitutes its temporary death. And yet October is beautiful still, no less ‘for what it gives than what it takes away;’ and even for what it gives during the very act of taking away.--The whole year cannot produce a sight fraught with more rich and harmonious beauty than that which the woods and groves present during this month, notwithstanding, or rather in consequence of, the daily decay of their summer attire; and at no other season can any given spot of landscape be seen to much advantage as a mere picture.--An extensive plantation of forest trees presents a variety of colours and of tints that would scarcely be considered as natural in a picture, any more than many of the sunsets of September would. Among those trees which retain their green hues, the fir tribe are the principal; and these, spiring up among the deciduous ones, now differ from them no less in colour than they do in form. The alders, too, and the poplars, limes, and horse-chestnuts, are still green,--the hues of their leaves not undergoing much change as long as they remain on the branches. Most of the other forest trees have put on each its peculiar livery; the planes and sycamores presenting every variety of tinge, from bright yellow to brilliant red; the elms being, for the most part, of a rich sunny umber, varying according to the age of the tree and the circumstances of its soil, &c.; the beeches having deepened into a warm glowing brown, which the young ones will retain all the winter, and till the new spring leaves push the present ones off; the oaks varying from a dull dusky green to a deep russet, according to their ages; and the Spanish chestnuts, with their noble embowering heads, glowing like clouds of gold.--As for the hedge-rows, though they have lost nearly all their flowers, the various fruits that are spread out upon them for the winter food of the birds, make them little less gay than they were in spring and summer. The most conspicuous of these are the red hips of the wild rose; the dark purple bunches of the luxuriant blackberry; the brilliant scarlet and green berries of the nightshade; the wintry-looking fruit of the hawthorn; the blue sloes, covered with their soft tempting-looking bloom; the dull bunches of the woodbine; and the sparkling holly-berries.--We may also still, by seeking for them, find a few flowers scattered about beneath the hedge-rows, and the dry banks that skirt the woods, and even in the woods themselves, peeping up meekly from among the crowds of newly fallen leaves. The prettiest of these is the primrose, which now blows a second time. But two or three of the persicaria tribe are still in flower, and also some of the goosefoots. And even the elegant and fragile heathbell, or harebell, has not yet quite disappeared; while some of the ground flowers that have passed away have left in their place strange evidences of their late presence; in particular, the singular flower (if it can be called one) of the arums, or lords and ladies, has changed into an upright bunch, or long cluster, of red berries, starting up from out the ground on a single stiff stem, and looking almost like the flower of a hyacinth.--The open fields during this month, though they are bereaved of much of their actual beauty and variety, present sights that are as agreeable to the eye, and even more stirring to the imagination, than those which have passed away. The husbandman is now ploughing up the arable land, and putting into it the seeds that are to produce the next year’s crops; and there are not, among rural occupations, two more pleasant to look upon than these: the latter, in particular, is one that, while it gives perfect satisfaction to the eye as a mere picture, awakens and fills the imagination with the prospective views which it opens.--It is not till this month that we usually experience the equinoxial gales, those fatal visitations which may now be looked upon as the immediate heralds of the coming on of winter; as in the spring they were the sure signs of its having passed away. Bitter-sweet is it, now, to lie awake at night, and listen wilfully (as if we would not let them escape us) to the fierce howlings of the winds, each accession of which gives new vividness to the vision of some tall ship, illumined by every flash of lightning--illumined, but not rendered visible--for there are no eyes within a hundred leagues to look upon it; and crowded with human beings--(not ‘souls’ only, as the sea-phrase is, for then it were pastime--but bodies) every one of which sees, in imagination, its own grave a thousand fathom deep beneath the dark waters that roar around, and feels itself beforehand.”[360]
* * * * *
THE WIND.
The wind has a language, I would I could learn! Sometimes ’tis soothing, and sometimes ’tis stern, --Sometimes it comes like a low sweet song, And all things grow calm, as the sound floats along, And the forest is lulled by the dreamy strain, And slumber sinks down on the wandering main, And its crystal arms are folded in rest, And the tall ship sleeps on its heaving breast.
Sometimes when autumn grows yellow and sere, And the sad clouds weep for the dying year, It comes like a wizard, and mutters its spell, --I would that the magical tones I might tell-- And it beckons the leaves with its viewless hand, And they leap from their branches at its command, And follow its footsteps with wheeling feet, Like fairies that dance in the moonlight sweet.
Sometimes it comes in the wintry night, And I hear the flap of its pinions of might, And I see the flash of its withering eye, As it looks from the thunder-cloud sailing on high, And pauses to gather its fearful breath, And lifts up its voice like the angel of death-- And the billows leap up when the summons they hear And the ship flies away, as if winged with fear, And the uncouth creatures that dwell in the deep, Start up at the sound from their floating sleep, And career through the water, like clouds through the night, To share in the tumult their joy and delight, And when the moon rises, the ship is no more, Its joys and its sorrows are vanish’d and o’er, And the fierce storm that slew it has faded away, Like the dark dream that flies from the light of the day.
The Improvisatrice.
[360] Mirror of the Months.
~October 1.~
LAWLESS COURT.
This is the season of holding a remarkable court, which we are pleasantly introduced to by the relation of a good old writer.[361]
“Ryding from Ralegh towards Rochford, I happened to haue the good companie of a gentleman of this countrey, who, by the way, shewed me a little hill, which he called the Kings Hill; and told me of a strange customarie court, and of long continuance, there yearely kept, the next Wednesday after Michaelmas day in the night, upon the first cock crowing without any kinde of light, saue such as the heavens will affoard: The steward of the court writes onely with coales, and calleth all such as are bound to appeare, with as low a voice as possiblie he may, giuing no notice when he goeth to execute his office. Howsoever, he that gives not answer is deeply amerced; which servile attendance (saith he) was imposed at the first vpon certaine tenants of divers mannors hereabouts, for conspiring in this place, at such an vnseasonable time, to raise a commotion. The title of the entrie of the court hee had in memory, and writ it downe for me when we came to Rochford.” Fuller speaks of its running “in obscure barbarous rimes,” which he inserts nearly in the words of the legal authorities who give the following account:--
“~Lawless Court.~ On Kingshill at Rochford in Essex, on Wednesday morning next, after Michaelmas day, at Cocks-crowing, Is held a Court, vulgarly called ‘The Lawless Court.’ They whisper and have no Candle, nor any Pen and Ink but a Coal; and he that ows Suit or Service, and appears not, forfeits double his rent every hour he is missing. This Court belongs to the Honor of Ralegh, and to the Earl of Warwick; and is called ‘Lawless,’ because held at an unlawful or lawless hour, or Quia dicta sine lege. The Title of it in the Court Rolls, runs thus,--
Kingshi in } ss. =C=Vria de Domino Rege, Rochford. } Dicta sine Lege. _Tenta est ibidem Per ejusdem consuetudinem, Ante ortum solis, Luceat nisi polus, Senescallus solus Nil scribit nisi colis, Toties voluerit, Gallus ut cantaverit, Per cujus soli sonitus, Curia est summonita, Clamat clam pro Rege, In Curia sine Lege, Et nisi cito venerint, Citiùs pænituerint, Et nisi clam accedant, Curia non attendat, Qui venerit cum lumine, Errat in regimine: Et dum sunt sine lumine, Capti sunt in crimine: Curia sine cura, Jurati de injuria,_
Tenta ibidem die Mercurii (ante Diem) proximi post Festum Sancti Michaelis Arch-angeli, Anno regni Regis,” &c.
This Court is mentioned in Cam. Britan, though imperfectly; who says this servile attendance was imposed on the Tenants, for conspiring at the like unseasonable time to raise a Commotion.[362]
ORDER OF FOOLS.
We are already acquainted with so many whimsies of our forefathers, that any thing related of their doings ceases to surprise; we might otherwise be astonished by the fact, that Folly had an order of merit, and held its great court every year on the first Sunday after Michaelmas-day.
An inquiring antiquary gives some particulars of this institution, with a translation of the document for its foundation, which is preserved in Von Buggenhagen’s “Account of the Roman and National Antiquities” discovered at Cleves. He relates of it as follows:--
To this document are affixed thirty-six seals, all imprinted on green wax, with the exception of that of the founder, which is on red wax, and in the centre of the rest; having on its right the seal of the count de Meurs, and on its left that of Diedrich van Eyl. The insignium borne by the knights of this order on the left side of their mantles consisted of a fool embroidered in a red and silver vest, with a cap on his head, intersected harlequin-wise with red and yellow divisions, and gold bells attached, with yellow stockings and black shoes; in his right hand was a cup filled with fruits, and in his left a gold key, symbolic of the affection subsisting between the different members.
It is uncertain when this order ceased, although it appears to have been in existence at the commencement of the sixteenth century, when, however, its pristine spirit had become totally extinct. The latest mention that has hitherto been found of it occurs in some verses prefixed by Onofrius Brand to the German translation of his father Sebastian Brand’s celebrated “Navis Stultifera Mortalium,” by the learned Dr. Geiler von Kaisersberg, which was published at Strasburg in the year 1520.
Two-fold was the purpose of the noble founders of this order; to relieve the wants and alleviate the miseries of their suffering fellow-creatures; and to banish ennui during the numerous festivals observed in those ages, when the unceasing routine of disports and recreations, which modern refinement has invented in the present, were unknown. During the period of its meeting, which took place annually, and lasted seven days, all distinctions of rank were laid aside, and the most cordial equality reigned throughout. Each had his particular part allotted to him on those occasions, and those who supported their characters in the ablest manner, contributed most to the conviviality and gaiety of the meeting. Indeed we cannot but be strongly prepossessed in its favour, when we recur to the excellent regulations which accompanied its institution, and were admirably calculated to preserve it, at least for a great length of time, from degenerating into absurdity and extravagance.
We must not confound this laudable establishment with the vulgar and absurd practices which, till of late years, existed in many places under the names of feasts of fools and of the ass, &c. These were only national festivals, intended for the occasional diversion, or, as in those days they were termed, rites to promote the pious edification of the lower classes, which, “not unfrequently introduced by a superstition of the lowest and most illiberal species,” soon became objects of depravity and unbridled licentiousness. Of a totally different nature also, and analagous only in quaintness of appellation, were the societies established by men of letters in various parts of Italy, such as the society of the “Insensáte,” at Perugia, of the “Stravaganti,” at Pisa, and the “Eteróclyti,” at Pesaro. Nor can I allow myself to pass over in silence on the present occasion the order or society of Fools, otherwise denominated “Respublica Binepsis,” which was founded towards the middle of the fourteenth century by some Polish noblemen, and took its name from the estate of one Psomka, the principal instigator, near Leublin. Its form was modelled after that of the constitution of Poland; like this, too, it had its king, its council, its chamberlain, its master of the hunt, and various other offices. Whoever made himself ridiculous by any singular and foolish propensity, on him was conferred an appointment befitting it. Thus he, who carried his partiality to the canine species to a ridiculous extreme, was created master of the hunt; whilst another, who constantly boasted of his valorous achievements, was raised to the dignity of field marshal. No one dared to refuse the acceptance of such a vocation, unless he wished to become a still greater object of ridicule and animadversion than before. This order soon experienced so rapid an increase of numbers that there were few at court who were not members of it. At the same time it was expressly forbidden that any lampooner should be introduced amongst them. The avowed object of this institution was to prevent the rising generation from the adoption of bad habits and licentious manners; and ridiculous as was its outward form, is not its design at least entitled to our esteem and veneration?
Patent of Creation of the Order of Fools.
“We all, who have hereunto affixed our seals, make known unto all men, and declare, that after full and mature consideration, both on our own behalf and on account of the singular goodwill and friendship which we all bear, and will continue to bear towards one another, we have instituted a society of fools, according to the form and manner hereunto subjoined:--
“Be it therefore known, that each member shall wear a fool, either made of silver, or embroidered, on his coat. And such member as shall not daily wear this fool, him shall and may any one of us, as often as he shall see it, punish with a mulct of three old great tournois, (livres tournois, about four-pence halfpenny,) which three tournois shall be appropriated to the relief of the poor in the Lord!
“Further, will we fools yearly meet, and hold a conventicle and court, and assemble ourselves, to wit at Cleves, every year on the Sunday after Michaelmas-day; and no one of us shall depart out of the city, nor mount his horse to quit the place where we may be met together, without previous notice, and his having defrayed that part of the expenses of the court which he is bound to bear. And none of us shall remain away on any pretence or for any other reason whatsoever than this, namely, that he is labouring under very great infirmity; excepting moreover those only who may be in a foreign country, and at six days’ journey from their customary place of residence. If it should happen that any one of the society is at enmity with another, then must the whole society use their utmost endeavours to adjust their differences and reconcile them; and such members and all their abettors shall be excluded from appearing at the court on the Friday morning when it commences its sitting at sun-rise, until it breaks up on the same Friday at sun-set.
“And, we will further, at the royal court yearly elect one of the members to be king of our society, and six to be counsellors; which king with his six counsellors shall regulate and settle all the concerns of the society, and in particular appoint and fix the court of the ensuing year; they shall also procure, and cause to be procured, all things necessary for the said court, of which they shall keep an exact account. These expenses shall be alike both to knights and squires, and a third part more shall fall upon the lords than upon the knights and squires; but the counts shall be subject to a third part more than the lords.
“And early on the Tuesday morning (during the period of the court’s sitting) all of us members shall go to the church of the Holy Virgin at Cleves, to pray for the repose of all those of the society who may have died; and there shall each bring his separate offering.
“And each of us has mutually pledged his good faith, and solemnly engaged to fulfil faithfully, undeviatingly, and inviolably, all things which are above enumerated, &c.
“Done at Cleves, 1381, on the day of St. Cunibert.”
H. W. S.[363]
STAGE ACCIDENT.
On the evening of Friday the 1st of October, 1736, during the performance of an entertainment called Dr. Faustus, at Covent-garden theatre, one James Todd who represented the miller’s man, fell from the upper stage, in a flying machine, by the breaking of the wires. He fractured his scull, and died miserably; three others were much hurt, but recovered. Some of the audience swooned, and the whole were in great confusion upon this sad accident.[364]
MOUNTEBANKS AND MR. MERRIMAN.
For the Every-Day Book.
Little inferior to Mr. Punch, Mr. Merriman has stood eminently high at fairs, figured in market-places, and scarcely a village green in England, that has not felt the force of his irresistible appeals. He does not often approach the over-grown metropolis; his success here is less certain, and the few patrons that remain, love to feast their eyes and risible faculties without sparing a modicum from their pockets: the droll simpleton might crack his jokes without finding the kernel--cash.
A company of mountebanks, however, appeared on a green, north of White Conduit-house, several evenings last week. On Saturday the performance commenced at five o’clock in the afternoon. The performers consisted of the master, a short, middle aged person, with a florid complexion, dressed in decent half mourning. He possessed a sound pair of lungs, fair eloquence, and a good portion of colloquial ability. By the assistance of a little whip he kept in order a large ring, formed of boys, girls, and grown persons of both sexes. His eye, gray as a falcon’s, watched the reception he received, and seemed to communicate with his “mind’s eye,” as to his subscribers. The rosy-faced maid servants, glad of the opportunity of gazing at the exhibitors, were rejoiced by the pretence of holding the “nursery treasures” to see all that could be seen. Here the calculator looked for patronage and encouragement. “Mr. Merriman,” a young man with his face and clothes duly coloured, à la Grimaldi, raised laughter by his quaint retorts, by attempts at tumbling to prove he could tumble well, and by drilling with a bugle-horn a dozen volunteer boys in many whimsical exercises, truly marvellous to simpering misses and their companions. The next performer was a short man with sharp features, sunburnt face, and shrill goat-like voice:--he tumbled in a clever, but, I think, dangerous manner. Then Mr. Merriman’s “imitations” followed; not to say any thing of those inimitable imitators, Mathews, Reeve, and Yates, he suited his audience to the very echo of the surrounding skeletons in brick and mortar. The tumbler then reposed by putting a loose coat over his party-coloured habit, and playing a pandean-pipe while “Mr. Merriman” sat on a piece of carpet spread on the ground, and tossed four gilt balls in the air at the same time, to the variations of the music. A drum was beat by a woman about forty, with a tiara on her head, who afterwards left the beating art and mounting the slack-wire, which was supported by three sticks, coned at each end to a triangle; she danced and vaulted à la Gouffe. A table was put on the wire, which she balanced, and bore a glass full of liquor on the rim as she twirled it on her finger. This was the acmè of the display. Tickets at one shilling each were now handed round with earnestness and much promise, for a lottery of prizes, consisting of teapots, waiters, printed calico, and two sovereigns thrown on the grass instead of a sheep. These temptations held out to many a Saturday night labourer the hope of increasing his week’s wages. The “conductor” of his company no doubt profited by the experience of which he was possessed. Many tickets were sold; expectation breathed--fancy pictured a teapot--or some token of fortune’s performance. The decision made, the die cast, now the laughing winner walked hurriedly away, hugging his prize, while the losers hid their chagrin, and were quietly dispersed by the “blank” influence, with secret wishes that their money was in their pockets again.
When I reflect upon this kind of amusement for the labouring classes, I see nothing to prevent its occasional appearance. The wit scattered about, though in a blundering way, is often smart.
In spite of decorum, of my better instruction in gentility, and Chesterfield’s axioms, I love to stand and shake my human system, if it be only to remind me of past observation, and to see the children so happy, who ring out music, in every responsive applause of the tricks so plausibly represented to their view. While “Mr. Merriman” does not invade the peace of society, I hope he will be allowed his precarious reign, as he promised “that he would forfeit fifty guineas if he came into the parish again at least for a twelvemonth.”
It is within my remembrance when former mountebanks distributed packets instead of blanks, containing nostrums against toothache, corns, bunions, warts, witchcraft and the ague. Doctor Bolus strutted and fretted his hour upon the stage, and gave as much wit for sixpence as kept the village alehouse in a roar for many weeks. But, I suppose, the mountebank profession, like every other, feels the changes of the times, and retrenchment cries,--
“Ubi vos requiram, cum dies advenerit?”
*, *, P.
September 29, 1826.
Please to make the following correction, page 1270; for “he shaking,” read “the shaking.”
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 52·85.
[361] Fuller.
[362] Cowel. Blount.
[363] From Dr. Aikin’s Athenæum.
[364] Gentleman’s Magazine.
~October 2.~
EXTRAORDINARY WALKING.
October 2, 1751, a man, for a wager of twenty guineas, walked from Shoreditch church, to the twenty mile stone near Ware, and back again, in seven hours![365]
EXTRAORDINARY RIDING.
In October, 1754, lord Powerscourt having laid a wager with the duke of Orleans, that he would ride on his own horses from Fountainbleau to Paris, which is forty-two English miles, in two hours, for one thousand louis d’ors, the king’s guards cleared the way, which was lined with crowds of Parisians. He was to mount only three horses, but he performed the task on two, in one hour, thirty-seven minutes, and twenty-two seconds. The horses through whom the wager was won, were both killed by the severity of the feat.[366]
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 53·75.
[365] Gentleman’s Magazine.
[366] Ibid.
~October 3.~
EXTRAORDINARY HORSE.
On the 3d of October, 1737, a cart-gelding belonging to Mr. Richard Fendall, of the Grange, Southwark, died by an accidental cut in his knee with a garden-mellon bell-glass; which is taken notice of, because this gelding was forty-four years in his possession. It was bought Michaelmas, 1693, at Uxbridge, was never sick nor lame all the time, and within the fifteen years preceding, drew his owner and another in a chaise, fifty miles in one day.[367]
BIRDS AND MISTS.
It is observed that--“Among the miscellaneous events of October, one of the most striking and curious is the interchange which seems to take place between our country, and the more northern as well as the more southern ones, in regard to the birds. The swallow tribe now all quit us: the swift disappeared wholly, more than a month ago; and now the house swallow, house martin, and bank or sand martin, after congregating for awhile in vast flocks about the banks of rivers and other waters, are seen no more as general frequenters of the air. If one or two are seen during the warm days that sometimes occur for the next two or three weeks, they are to be looked upon as strangers and wanderers; and the sight of them, which has hitherto been so pleasant, becomes altogether different in its effect: it gives one a feeling of desolateness, such as we experience on meeting a poor shivering lascar in our winter streets.--In exchange for this tribe of truly summer visiters, we have now great flocks of the fieldfares and redwings come back to us; and also wood pigeons, snipes, woodcocks, and several of the numerous tribe of water-fowl.
“Now, occasionally, we may observe the singular effects of a mist, coming gradually on, and wrapping in its dusky cloak a whole landscape that was, the moment before, clear and bright as in a spring morning. The vapour rises visibly (from the face of a distant river perhaps) like steam from a boiling caldron; and climbing up into the blue air as it advances, rolls wreath over wreath till it reaches the spot on which you are standing; and then, seeming to hurry past you, its edges, which have hitherto been distinctly defined, become no longer visible, and the whole scene of beauty, which a few moments before surrounded you, is as it were wrapt from your sight like an unreal vision of the air, and you seem (and in fact are) transferred into the bosom of a cloud.”[368]
SWALLOWS.
A provincial paper[369] says, “It is a fact, which has not been satisfactorily accounted for by ornithologists, that the number of swallows which visit this island are not near so numerous as they formerly were; and this is the case, not only in this neighbourhood, but throughout the country. The little that is satisfactorily known concerning the parts to which they emigrate, and the many statements respecting their annual migration, not only serves to show that something remains to be discovered respecting these interesting visiters, but perhaps prevents us from ascertaining the causes of the decrease in their numbers. In the month of September, 1815, great numbers of these birds congregated near Rotherham, previous to their departure for a more genial climate. Their appearance was very extraordinary, and attracted much attention. We extract some account of this vast assemblage of the feathered race, from an elegantly written little work, published on the occasion, by the rev. Thomas Blackley, vicar of Rotherham, containing ‘Observations and Reflections’ on this circumstance:--
“‘Early in the month of September, 1815, that beautiful and social tribe of the feathered race began to assemble in the neighbourhood of Rotherham, at the Willow-ground, near the Glass-house, preparatory to their migration to a a warmer climate; and their numbers were daily augmented, until they became a vast flock which no man could easily number--thousands upon thousands, tens of thousands, and myriads--so great, indeed, that the spectator would almost have concluded that the whole of the swallow race were there collected in one huge host. It was their manner, while there, to rise from the willows in the morning, a little before six o’clock, when their thick columns literally darkened the sky. Their divisions were formed into four, five, and sometimes six grand wings, each of these filing off and taking a different route--one east, another west, another south, and so on; as if not only to be equally dispersed throughout the country, to provide food for their numerous troops; but also to collect with them whatever of their fellows, or straggling parties, might be still left behind. Just before the respective columns arose, a few birds might be observed first in motion at different points, darting through their massy ranks--these appeared like officers giving the word of command. In the evening, about five o’clock, they began to return to their station, and continued coming in, from all quarters, until nearly dark. It was here that you might see them go through their various aerial evolutions, in many a sportive ring and airy gambol--strengthening their pinions in these playful feats for their long etherial journey; while contentment and cheerfulness reigned in every breast, and was expressed in their evening song by a thousand pleasing twitters from their little throats, as they cut the air and frolicked in the last beams of the setting sun, or lightly skimmed the surface of the glassy pool. The notes of those that had already gained the willows sounded like the murmur of a distant waterfall, or the dying roar of the retreating billow on the sea beach.
“‘The verdant enamel of summer had already given place to the warm and mellow tints of autumn, and the leaves were now fast falling from their branches, while the naked tops of many of the trees appeared--the golden sheaves were safely lodged in the barns, and the reapers had, for this year, shouted their harvest home--frosty and misty mornings now succeeded, the certain presages of the approach of winter. These omens were understood by the swallows as the route for their march; accordingly, on the morning of the 7th of October, their mighty army broke up their encampment debouched from their retreat, and, rising, covered the heavens with their legions; thence, directed by an unerring guide, they took their trackless way. On the morning of their going, when they ascended from their temporary abode, they did not, as they had been wont to do, divide into different columns, and take each a different route, but went off in one vast body, bearing to the south. It is said that they would have gone sooner, but for a contrary wind which had some time prevailed; that on the day before they took their departure, the wind got round, and the favourable breeze was immediately embraced by them. On the day of their flight, they left behind them about a hundred of their companions; whether they were slumberers in the camp, and so had missed the going of their troops, or whether they were left as the rear-guard, it is not easy to ascertain; they remained, however, till the next morning, when the greater part of them mounted on their pinions, to follow, as it should seem, the celestial route of their departed legions. After these a few stragglers only remained; these might be too sick or too young to attempt so great an expedition; whether this was the fact or not, they did not remain after the next day. If they did not follow their army, yet the dreary appearance of their depopulated camp and their affection for their kindred, might influence them to attempt it, or to explore a warmer and safer retreat.’”
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 50·00.
[367] Gentleman’s Magazine.
[368] Mirror of the Months.
[369] Sheffield Mercury.
~October 4.~
CHRONOLOGY.
On the 4th of October, 1749,[370] died at Paris, John Baptist Du Halde, a jesuit, who was secretary to father Le Tellier, confessor to Louis XIV. Du Halde is celebrated for having compiled an elaborate history and geography of China from the accounts of the Romish missionaries in that empire; he was likewise editor of the “Lettres edifiantes et curieuses,” from the ninth to the twenty-sixth collection, and the author of several Latin poems and miscellaneous pieces. He was born in the city wherein he died, in 1674, remarkable for piety, mildness, and patient industry.[371]
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 54·92.
[370] Gentleman’s Magazine.
[371] A General Biographical Dictionary, (Hunt and Clarke,) vol. ii.
~October 5.~
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 55·12.
~October 6.~
ST. FAITH.
Of this saint in the church of England calendar, there is an account in vol. i. col. 1362.
SOMNAMBULISM.
On Sunday evening, the 6th of October, 1823, a lad named George Davis, sixteen and a half years of age, in the service of Mr. Hewson, butcher, of Bridge-road, Lambeth, at about twenty minutes after nine o’clock, bent forward in his chair, and rested his forehead on his hands. In ten minutes he started up, fetched his whip, put on his one spur, and went thence to the stable; not finding his own saddle in the proper place, he returned to the house, and asked for it. Being asked what he wanted with it, he replied, to go his rounds. He returned to the stable, got on the horse without the saddle, and was proceeding to leave the stable; it was with much difficulty and force that Mr. Hewson junior, assisted by the other lad, could remove him from the horse; his strength was great, and it was with difficulty he was brought in doors. Mr. Hewson senior, coming home at this time, sent for Mr. Benjamin Ridge, an eminent practitioner, in Bridge-road, who stood by him for a quarter of an hour, during which time the lad considered himself stopped at the turnpike gate, and took sixpence out of his pocket to be changed; and holding out his hand for the change, the sixpence was returned to him. He immediately observed, “None of your nonsense--that is the sixpence again, give me my change.” When threepence halfpenny was given to him, he counted it over, and said, “None of your gammon; that is not right, I want a penny more;” making the fourpence halfpenny, which was his proper change. He then said, “give me my castor,” (meaning his hat,) which slang terms he had been in the habit of using, and then began to whip and spur to get his horse on; his pulse at this time was one hundred and thirty-six, full and hard; no change of countenance could be observed, nor any spasmodic affection of the muscles, the eyes remaining close the whole of the time. His coat was taken off his arm, his shirt sleeve stripped up, and Mr. Ridge bled him to thirty-two ounces; no alteration had taken place in him during the first part of the time the blood was flowing; at about twenty-four ounces, the pulse began to decrease; and when the full quantity named above had been taken, it was at eighty, with a slight perspiration on the forehead. During the time of bleeding Mr. Hewson related the circumstance of a Mr. Harris, optician in Holborn, whose son some years before walked out on the parapet of the house in his sleep. The boy joined the conversation, and observed he lived at the corner of Brownlow-street. After the arm was tied up, he unlaced one boot, and said he would go to bed. In three minutes from this time he awoke, got up, and asked what was the matter, (having then been one hour in the trance,) not having the slightest recollection of any thing that had passed, and wondered at his arm being tied up, and at the blood, &c. A strong aperient medicine was then administered, he went to bed, slept sound, and the next day appeared perfectly well, excepting debility from the bleeding and operation of the medicine, and had no recollection whatever of what had taken place. None of his family or himself were ever affected in this way before.[372]
REMARKABLE STORM.
The following remarkable letter in the “Gentleman’s Magazine,” relates to the present day seventy years ago.
Mr. URBAN,
Wigton, Oct. 23, 1756.
On the 6th inst. at night, happened a most violent hurricane; such a one perhaps as has not happened in these parts, in the memory of man. It lasted full 4 hours from about 11 till 3. The damage it has done over the whole county is very deplorable. The corn has suffered prodigiously.--Houses were not only unroofed, but in several places overturned by its fury.--Stacks of hay and corn were entirely swept away.--Trees without number torn up by the roots. Others, snapt off in the middle, and scattered in fragments over the neighbouring fields. Some were twisted almost round; bent, or split to the roots, and left in so shattered a condition as cannot be described.
The change in the herbage was also very surprising; its leaves withered shrivelled up, and turned black. The leaves upon the trees, especially on the weather side, fared in the same manner. The Evergreens alone seem to have escaped, and the grass recovered in a day or two.
I agreed, at first, with the general opinion, that this mischief was the effect of Lightning; but, when I recollected that, in some places, very little had been taken notice of; in others none at all; and that the effect was general, I begun to think of accounting for it from some other cause. I immediately examined the dew or rain which had been left on the grass, windows, &c. in hopes of being enabled, by its taste, to form some better judgment of the particles with which the air had been impregnated, and I found it as salt as any sea water I had ever tasted. The several vegetables also were all saltish more or less, and continued so for 5 or 6 days, the saline particles not being then washed off; and when the moisture was exhaled from the windows, the saline chrystal sparkled on the outside, when the sun shined, and appeared very brilliant.
This salt water, I conceive, has done the principal damage, for I find upon experiment, that common salt dissolved in fresh water affected some fresh vegetables, when sprinkled upon them, in the very same manner, except that it did not turn them quite so black,--but particles of a sulphurous, or other quality,[373] may have been mixed with it.
I should be glad to see the opinions of some of your ingenious correspondents on this wonderful phenomenon;--whether they think this salt water was brought from the sea,[374] and in what manner.
Yours,
A. B.
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 54·55.
[372] The Times, October, 1823.
[373] In an adjoining bleach-yard, some cloth which had lain out all night was turned almost yellow.--Other pieces also which were spread out the next morning, contracted the same colour, which was not without great difficulty washed out.
[374] The wind was westerly, and consequently in its passage swept the Irish sea.
~October 7.~
CONJUGAL INDIFFERENCE.
On the 7 of of October, 1736, a man and his wife, at Rushal, in Norfolk, “having some words,” the man went out and hanged himself. The coroner’s inquest found it “self-murder,” and ordered him to be buried in the cross-ways; but his wife sent for a surgeon, and sold the body for half a guinea. The surgeon feeling about the body, the wife said, “He is fit for your purpose, he is as fat as butter.” The deceased was thereupon put into a sack with his legs hanging out, and being thrown upon a cart, conveyed to the surgeon’s.[375]
OLD TIMES AND NEW TIMES.
In a journal of 1826,[376] we have the following pleasant account of a similar publication ninety years ago.
A curious document, for we may well term it so, has come to our hands--a copy of a London newspaper, dated Thursday, March 24, 1736-7. Its title is, “The Old Whig, or the Consistent Protestant.” It seems to have been a weekly paper, and, at the above date, to have been in existence for about two years. How long it lived after, we have not, at present, any means of ascertaining. The paper is similar in size to the French journals of the present day, and consists of four pages and three columns in each. The show of advertisements is very fair. They fill the whole of the back page, and nearly a column of the third. They are all book advertisements. One of these is a comedy called “The Universal Passion,” by the author of “The Man of Taste,” no doubt, at that time, an amply sufficient description of the ingenious playwright. The “Old Whig” was published by “J. Roberts, at the Oxford Arms, in Warwick-lane,” as likewise by “H. Whitridge, bookseller, the corner of Castle-alley, near the Royal-exchange, in Cornhill, price two-pence!” It has a leading article in its way, in the shape of a discourse on the liberty of the press, which it lustily defends, from what, we believe, it was as little exposed to, in 1786-7, as it is in 1826--a censorship. The editor apologises for omitting the news in his last, on account of “Mr. Foster’s reply to Dr. Stebbing!” What would be said of a similar excuse now-a-days?
The following epigram is somewhat hacknied, but there is a pleasure in extracting it from the print, where it probably first appeared:--
“As we were obliged to omit the News in last week’s paper, by inserting Mr. Foster’s answer to the Rev. Dr. Stebbing, we shall in this give the few articles that are any way material.”
“Cries Celia to a reverend dean, What reason can be given, Since marriage is a holy thing, That there is none in Heaven?”
“There are no Women,” he replied; She quick returns the jest; “Women there are, but I’m afraid, They cannot find a priest!”
The miscellaneous part is of nearly the same character as at present, but disposed in rather a less regular form. We have houses on fire, and people burnt in them, exactly as we had last week; but what is wonderful, as it shows the great improvement in these worthy gentlemen in the course of a century, the “Old Whig” adds to its account--“The watch, it seems, though at a small distance, knew nothing of the matter!”
There is a considerable number of deaths, for people died even in those good old times, and one drowning; whether intentional or not we cannot inform our readers, as the “Old Whig” went to press before the inquest was holden before Mr. Coroner and a most respectable jury.
We still tipple a little after dinner, but our fathers were prudent men; they took time by the forelock, and began their convivialities with their dejeune. The following is a short notice of the exploits of a few of these true men. It is with a deep feeling of the transitory nature of all sublunary things, that we introduce this notice, by announcing to our readers at a distance, that the merry Boar’s Head is merry no more, and that he who goes thither in the hope of quaffing port, where plump Jack quaffed sack and sugar, will return disappointed. The sign remains, but the hostel is gone.
“On Saturday last, the right hon. the Lord Mayor held a wardmote at St. Mary Abchurch, for the election of a common councilman, in the room of Mr. Deputy Davis. His lordship went sooner than was expected by Mr. Clay’s friends, and arriving at the church, ordered proclamation to be made, when Mr. Edward Yeates was put up by every person present; then the question being asked, whether any other was offered to the ward, and there being no person named, his lordship declared Mr. Yeates duly elected, and ordered him to be sworn in, which was accordingly done; and just at the words ‘So help you God,’ Mr. Clay’s friends (who were numerous, and had been at breakfast at the Boar’s Head Tavern, in Eastcheap) came into the church, but it was too late, for the election was over. This has created a great deal of mirth in the ward, which is likely to continue for some time. The Boar’s Head is said to be the tavern so often mentioned by Shakspeare, in his play of Henry the Fourth, which occasioned a gentleman, who heard the circumstances of the election, to repeat the following lines from that play:--
“‘Falst. Now Hall, what a time of day is it, lad?’
“‘P. Hen.----What a devil has thou to do with the time of the day? unless hours were cups of sack, and minutes capons,’” &c.
The above account gives a specimen of the sobriety of our fathers; another of their virtues is exemplified in the following:--
“By a letter from Penzance, in Cornwall, we have the following account, viz.:--‘That on the 12th instant at night, was lost near Portlevan (and all the men drowned, as is supposed), the queen Caroline, of Topsham, Thomas Wills, master, from Oporto, there being some pieces of letters found on the sands, directed for Edward Mann, of Exon, one for James La Roche, Esq. of Bristol, and another for Robert Smyth, Esq. and Company, Bristol. Some casks of wine came on shore, which were immediately secured by the country people; but on a composition with the collector, to pay them eight guineas for each pipe they brought on shore, they delivered to him twenty-five pipes; and he paid so many times eight guineas, else they would have staved them, or carried them off.’”
The order maintained in England at that time was nothing compared to the strictness of discipline observed on the continent.
“They write from Rome, that count Trevelii, a Neapolitan, had been beheaded there, for being the author of some satirical writings against the Pope: that Father Jacobini, who was sentenced to be beheaded on the same account, had obtained the favour of being sent to the gallies, through the intercession of cardinal Guadagni, the pope’s nephew, who was most maltreated by the priest and the count.”
These were times, as Dame Quickly would say, when honourable men were not to be insulted with impunity.
We sometimes hear of a terrible species of mammalia, called West India Planters, and there is an individual specimen named Hogan, or something like it, whose wonderful fierceness has been sounded in our ears for some ten or twelve years. But what will the abolitionists say to the extract of a letter from Antigua? Compared with these dreadful doings, Mr. Hogan’s delinquencies were mere fleabites.
“Extract of a letter from Antigua, January 15, 1736-7:--‘We are in a great deal of trouble in this island, the burning of negroes, hanging them on gibbets alive, racking them on the wheel, &c. takes up almost all our time; that from the 20th of October to this day, there has been destroyed sixty-five sensible negro men, most of them tradesmen, as carpenters, masons, and coopers. I am almost dead with watching and warding, as are many more. They were going to destroy all the white inhabitants on the island. Court, the king of the negroes, who was to head the insurrection; Tomboy, their general, and Hercules their lieutenant-general, were all racked upon the wheel, and died with amazing obstinacy. Mr. Archibald Hamilton’s Harry, after he was condemned, stuck himself with a knife in eighteen places, four whereof were mortal, which killed him. Colonel Martin’s Jemmy, who was hung up alive from noon to eleven at night, was then taken down to give information. Colonel Morgan’s Ned, who, after he had been hung up seven days and seven nights, that his hands grew too small for his hand-cuffs, he got them out and raised himself up, and fell down from a gibbet fifteen feet high, without any harm; he was revived with cordials and broth, in hopes to bring him to a confession, but he would not confess, and was hung up again, and in a day and night after expired. Mr. Yeoman’s Quashy Coomah jumped out of the fire half burnt, but was thrown in again. And Mr. Lyon’s Tim jumped out of the fire, and promised to declare all, but it took no effect. In short, our island is in a poor, miserable condition, that I wish I could get any sort of employ in England.’”
The following notice is of a more pleasing character:--
“In a few days, a fine monument to the memory of John Gay, Esq., author of the Beggar’s Opera, and several other admired pieces, will be erected in Westminster-abbey, at the expense of his grace the duke of Queensberry and Dover, with an elegant inscription thereon, composed by the deceased’s intimate and affectionate friend, Mr. Alexander Pope.”
There are two more observations which we have to make; 1st. “the Old Whig,” as was meet, was a strong Orangeman; and 2d. the parliament was sitting when the number before us was published, and yet it does not contain one line of debate!
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 53·77.
[375] Gentleman’s Magazine.
[376] New Times, September 7.
~October 8.~
ANCIENT MANNERS.
Elias Ashmole, the antiquary, enters thus in the diary of his life:--“1657, October 8. The cause between me and my wife was heard, when Mr. Serjeant Maynard observed to the court, that there were 800 sheets of depositions on my wife’s part, and not one word proved against me of using her ill, nor ever giving her a bad or provoking word.” The decision was against the lady; the court, refusing her alimony, delivered her to her husband; “whereupon,” says Ashmole, “I carried her to Mr. Lilly’s, and there took lodgings for us both.” He and Lilly dabbled in astrology; and he tells no more of his spouse till he enters “1668, April 1. 2 Hor. ante merid. the lady Mainwaring my wife died.” Subsequently he writes--“November 3. I married Mrs. Elizabeth Dugdale, daughter to William Dugdale, Esq. Norroy, king of arms at Lincoln’s-inn chapel. Dr. William Floyd married us, and her father gave her. The wedding was finished at 10 hor. post merid.”
Ashmole’s diary minutely records particulars of all sorts:--“September 5, I took pills; 6, I took a sweat; 7, I took leeches; all wrought very well.--December 19, Dr. Chamberlain proposed to me to bring Dr. Lister to my wife, that he might undertake her. 22. They both came to my house, and Dr. Lister did undertake her.” Though Dr. Lister was her undertaker on that occasion, yet Ashmole records--“1687, April 16, my wife took Mr. Bigg’s vomit, which wrought very well.--19. She took pulvis sanctis; in the afternoon she took cold.” Death took Ashmole in 1695. He was superstitious and punctilious, and was perhaps a better antiquary than a friend; he seems to have possessed himself of Tradescant’s museum at South Lambeth in a manner which rather showed his love of antiquities than poor old Tradescant.
It is to be regretted that Ashmole’s life, “drawn up by himself by way of diary,” was not printed with the Life of Lilly in the “Autobiography.” Lilly’s Life is published in that pleasant work by itself. “Tom Davies” deemed them fit companions.
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 53·80.
~October 9.~
ST. DENYS.
This name in the church of England calendar is properly noticed in vol. i. col. 1370.
* * * * *
On the celebration of this saint’s festival in catholic countries he is represented walking with his head in his hands, as we are assured he did, after his martyrdom. A late traveller in France relates, that on the 9th of October, the day of St. Denis, the patron saint of France, a procession was made to the village of St. Denis, about a league from Lyons. This was commonly a very disorderly and tumultuous assembly, and was the occasion some years ago of a scene of terrible confusion and slaughter. The porter who kept the gate of the city which leads to this village, in order to exact a contribution from the people as they returned, shut the gate at an earlier hour than usual. The people, incensed at the extortion, assembled in a crowd round the gate to force it, and in the conflict numbers were stifled, squeezed to death, or thrown into the Rhone, on the side of which the gate stood. Two hundred persons were computed to have lost their lives on this occasion. The porter paid his avarice with his life: he was condemned and executed as the author of the tumult, and of the consequences by which it was attended.[377]
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 52·62.
[377] Miss Plumptre.
~October 10.~
1826. Oxford and Cambridge Terms begin.
CHRONOLOGY.
On Sunday, October 10, 1742, during the time of worship, the roof of the church of Fearn, in Ross-shire, Scotland, fell suddenly in, and sixty people were killed, besides the wounded. The gentry whose seats were in the niches, and the preacher by falling under the sounding-board were preserved.[378]
PACK MONDAY FAIR, AT SHERBORNE, DORSETSHIRE
To the Editor of the Every-Day Book.
Sherborne, September, 1826.
Sir,--Having promised to furnish an account of our fair, I now take the liberty of handing it to you for insertion in your very entertaining work.
This fair is annually held on the first Monday after the 10th of October, and is a mart for the sale of horses, cows, fat and lean oxen, sheep, lambs, and pigs; cloth, earthenware, onions, wall and hazle nuts, apples, fruit trees, and the usual nick nacks for children, toys, gingerbread, sweetmeats, sugar plums, &c. &c. with drapery, hats, bonnets, caps, ribands, &c. for the country belles, of whom, when the weather is favourable, a great number is drawn together from the neighbouring villages.
Tradition relates that this fair originated at the termination of the building of the church, when the people who had been employed about it packed up their tools, and held a fair or wake, in the churchyard, blowing cows’ horns in their rejoicing, which at that time was perhaps the most common music in use.[379] The date at which the church was built is uncertain, but it may be conjectured in the sixth century, for in the year 704, king John fixed an episcopal see at, and Aldhelm was consecrated the first bishop of, Sherborne, in 705, and enjoyed the bishopric four years. Aldhelm died in 709, is said to be the first who introduced poetry into England, to have obtained a proficiency in music, and the first Englishman who ever wrote in Latin.
To the present time Pack Monday fair, is annually announced three or four weeks previous by all the little urchins who can procure and blow a cow’s horn, parading the streets in the evenings, and sending forth the different tones of their horny bugles, sometimes beating an old saucepan for a drum, to render the sweet sound more delicious, and not unfrequently a whistle-pipe or a fife is added to the band. The clock’s striking twelve on the Sunday night previous, is the summons for ushering in the fair, when the boys assemble with their horns, and parade the town with a noisy shout, and prepare to forage for fuel to light a bonfire, generally of straw, obtained from some of the neighbouring farmyards, which are sure to be plundered, without respect to the owners, if they have not been fortunate enough to secure the material in some safe part of their premises. In this way the youths enjoy themselves in boisterous triumph, to the annoyance of the sleeping part of the inhabitants, many of whom deplore, whilst others, who entertain respect for old customs, delight in the deafening mirth. At four o’clock the great bell is rang for a quarter of an hour. From this time, the bustle commences by the preparations for the coming scene: stalls erecting, windows cleaning and decorating, shepherds and drovers going forth for their flocks and herds, which are depastured for the night in the neighbouring fields, and every individual seems on the alert. The business in the sheep and cattle fairs (which are held in different fields, nearly in the centre of the town, and well attended by the gentlemen farmers, of Dorset, Somerset, and Devon) takes precedence, and is generally concluded by twelve o’clock, when what is called the in-fair begins to wear the appearance of business-like activity, and from this time till three or four o’clock more business is transacted in the shop, counting-house, parlour, hall, and kitchen, than at any other time of the day, it being a custom of the tradespeople to have their yearly accounts settled about this time, and scarcely a draper, grocer, hatter, ironmonger, bookseller, or other respectable tradesman, but is provided with an ample store of beef and home-brewed October, for the welcome of their numerous customers, few of whom depart without taking quantum suff. of the old English fare placed before them.
Now, (according to an old saying,) is the town alive. John takes Joan to see the shows,--there he finds the giant--here the learned pig--the giantess and dwarf--the menagerie of wild beasts--the conjuror--and Mr. Merry Andrew cracking his jokes with his quondam master. Here it is--“Walk up, walk up, ladies and gentlemen, we are now going to begin, be in time, the price is only twopence.” Here is Mr. Warr’s merry round-about, with “a horse or a coach for a halfpenny.”--Here is Rebecca Swain[380] with her black and red cock, and lucky-bag, who bawls out, “Come, my little lucky rogues, and try your fortune for a halfpenny, all prizes and no blanks, a faint heart never wins a fair lady.”--Here is pricking in the garter.--Raffling for gingerbread, with the cry of “one in; who makes two, the more the merrier.”--Here is the Sheffield hardwareman, sporting a worn-out wig and huge pair of spectacles, offering, in lots, a box of razors, knives, scissors, &c., each lot of which he modestly says, “is worth seven shillings, but he’ll not be too hard on the gaping crowd, he’ll not take seven, nor six, nor five, nor four, nor three, nor two, but one shilling for the lot,--going at one shilling--sold again and the money paid.”--Here are two earthenware-men bawling their shilling’s worth one against the other, and quaffing beer to each other’s luck from that necessary and convenient chamber utensil that has modestly usurped the name of the great river Po. Here is poor Will, with a basket of gingerbread, crying “toss or buy.” There is a smirking little lad pinning two girls together by their gowns, whilst his companion cracks a Waterloo bang-up in their faces. Here stands John with his mouth wide open, and Joan with her sloe-black ogles stretched to their extremity at a fine painted shawl, which Cheap John is offering for next to nothing; and here is a hundred other contrivances to draw the “browns” from the pockets of the unwary, and tickle the fancies of the curious; and sometimes the rogue of a pickpocket extracting farmer Anybody’s watch or money from his pockets.
This is Pack Monday fair, till evening throws on her dark veil, when the visiters in taking their farewell, stroll through the rows of gingerbread stalls, where the spruce Mrs. or Miss Sugarplum pops the cover of her nut-cannister forth, with “buy some nice nuts, do taste, sir, (or ma’me,) and treat your companion with a paper of nuts.” By this time the country folks are for jogging home, and vehicles and horses of every description on the move, and the bustle nearly over, with the exception of what is to be met with at the inns, where the lads and lasses so disposed, on the light fantastic toe, assisted by the merry scraping of the fiddler, finish the fun, frolic, and pastime of Pack Monday Fair.
I am, &c.
R. T.
* * * * *
SONNET.
For the Every-Day Book.
Me, men’s gay haunts delight not, nor the glow Of lights that glitter in the crowded room; But nature’s paths where silver waters flow, Making sweet music as along they go, And shadowy groves where birds their light wings plume, Or the brown heath where waves the yellow broom, Or by the stream where bending willows grow, And silence reigns, congenial with my gloom.
For there no hollow hearts, no envious eyes, No flatt’ring tongues, no treacherous hands are found, No jealous feuds, no gold-born enmities, Nor cold deceits with which men’s walks abound, But quietness and health, which are more meet, Than glaring halls where riot holds her seat.
S. R. J.
--------- The stream is pure in solitude, But passing on amid the haunts of men It finds pollution there, and rolls from thence A tainted tide.
Southey.
My memory does not help me to a dozen passages from the whole range of authors, in verse and prose, put together; it only assists me to ideas of what I have read, and to recollect where they are expressed, but not to their words. As the “Minor Poems” are not at hand, I can only hope I have quoted the preceding lines accurately. Their import impressed me in my boyhood, and one fine summer’s afternoon, a year or two ago, I involuntarily repeated them while musing beside that part of the “New River” represented in the engraving. I had strolled to “the Compasses,” when “the garden,” as the landlord calls it, was free from the nuisance of “company;” and thither I afterwards deluded an artist, who continues to “use the house,” and supplies me with the drawing of this sequestered nook.
This “gentle river” meanders through countless spots of surprising beauty and variety within ten miles of town. When I was a boy I thought “Sadler’s Well’s arch,” opposite the “Sir Hugh Myddelton,” (a house immortalized by Hogarth,) the prime part of the river; for there, by the aid of a penny line, and a ha’porth of gentles and blood-worms, “mixed,” bought of old Turpin, who kept the little fishing-tackle shop, the last house by the river’s side, at the end next St. John’s-street-road, I essayed to gudgeon gudgeons. But the “prime” gudgeon-fishing, then, was at “the Coffin,” through which the stream flows after burying itself at the Thatched-house, under Islington road, to Colebrooke-row, within half a stone’s throw of a cottage, endeared to me, in later years, by its being the abode of “as much virtue as can live.” Past the Thatched-house, towards Canonbury, there was the “Horse-shoe,” now no more, and the enchanting rear--since despoiled--of the gardens to the retreats of Canonbury-place; and all along the river to the pleasant village of Hornsey, there were delightful retirements on its banks, so “far from the busy haunts of men,” that only a few solitary wanderers seemed to know them. Since then, I have gone “over the hills and far away,” to see it sweetly flowing at Enfield Chase, near many a “cottage of content,” as I have conceived the lowly dwellings to be, which there skirt it, with their little gardens, not too trim, whence the inmates cross the neat iron bridges of the “New River Company,” which, thinking of “auld lang syne,” I could almost wish were of wood. Further on, the river gracefully recedes into the pleasant grounds of the late Mr. Gough the antiquary, who, if he chiefly wrote on the manners and remains of old times, had an especial love and kind feeling for the amiable and picturesque of our own. Pursuing the river thence to Theobalds, it presents to the “contemplative man’s recreation,” temptations that old Walton himself might have coveted to fall in his way: and why may we not “suppose that the vicinity of the New River, to the place of his habitation, might sometimes tempt him out, whose loss he so pathetically mentions, to spend an afternoon there.” He tells “the honest angler,” that the writing of his book was the “recreation of a recreation,” and familiarly says, “the whole discourse is, or rather was, a picture of my own disposition, especially in such days and times as I have laid aside business, and gone a fishing with honest Nat. and R. Roe; but they are gone, and with them most of my pleasant hours,--even as a shadow that passeth away and returns not.”
* * * * *
I dare not say that I am, and yet I cannot say that I never was, an angler; for I well remember where, though I cannot tell when, within a year, I was enticed to “go a fishing,” as the saying is, which I have sometimes imagined was derived from Walton’s motto on the title of his book:--“Simon Peter said, I go a fishing: and they said, we also will go with thee.--John xxi. 3.” This passage is not in all the editions of the “Complete Angler,” but it was engraven on the title-page of the first edition, printed in 1653. Allow me to refer to one of “captain Wharton’s almanacs,” as old Lilly calls them in his “Life and Times,” and point out what was, perhaps, the earliest advertisement of Walton’s work: it is on the back of the dedication leaf to “HEMEROSCOPEION: Anni Æræ Christianæ 1654.” The almanac was published of course in the preceding year, which was the year wherein Walton’s work was printed.
~Advertisement of Walton’s Angler, 1653.~
“There is published a Booke of Eighteen-pence price, called The Compleat Angler, Or, The Contemplative man’s Recreation: being a Discourse of Fish and Fishing. Not unworthy the perusall. Sold by Richard Marriot in S. Dunstan’s Church-yard Fleetstreet.”
This advertisement I deem a bibliomaniacal curiosity. Only think of the first edition of Walton as a “booke of eighteen-pence price!” and imagine the good old man on the day of publication, walking from his house “on the north side of Fleet-street, two doors west of the end of Chancery-lane,” to his publisher and neighbour just by, “Richard Marriot, in S. Dunstan’s Churchyard,” for the purpose of inquiring “how” the book “went off.” There is, or lately was, a large fish in effigy, at a fishing-tackle-maker’s in Fleet-street, near Bell-yard, which, whenever I saw it, after I first read Walton’s work, many years ago, reminded me of him, and his pleasant book, and its delightful ditties, and brought him before me, sitting on “a primrose bank” turning his “present thoughts into verse”
THE ANGLER’S WISH.
I in these flowery meads would be: These crystal streams should solace me; To whose harmonious bubbling noise I with my angle would rejoice: Sit here, and see the turtle-dove Court his chaste mate to acts of love:
Or, on that bank, feel the west wind Breathe health and plenty: please my mind, To see sweet dew-drops kiss these flowers, And then washed off by April showers; Here, hear my Kenna sing a song; There, see a blackbird feed her young, Or a leverock build her nest: Here, give my weary spirits rest, And raise my low-pitch’d thoughts above Earth, or what poor mortals love: Thus, free from law-suits and the noise Of princes’ courts, I would rejoice:
Or, with my Bryan, and a book, Loiter long days near Shawford-brook; There sit by him, and eat my meat, There see the sun both rise and set; There bid good morning to next day; There meditate my time away; And angle on; and beg to have A quiet passage to a welcome grave.
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 52·05.
[378] Gentleman’s Magazine.
[379] Hutchins, in his “History of Dorset,” says, this “Fair is held in the churchyard,[381] on the first Monday after the feast of St. Michael, (O. S.) and is a great holyday for the inhabitants of the town and neighbourhood. It is ushered in by the ringing of the great bell, at a very early hour in the morning, and by the boys and young men perambulating the street with cows’ horns, to the no small annoyance of their less wakeful neighbours. It has been an immemorial custom in Sherborne, for the boys to blow horns in the evenings in the streets, for some weeks before the fair.”
[380] A tall and portly dame, six feet full, with a particular screw of the mouth, and whom the writer recollects when he was a mere child, thirty years ago; none who have seen and heard her once, but will recollect her as long as they live.
[381] The fair has been removed from the churchyard about six or seven years, and is now held on a spacious parade, in a street not far from the church.
~October 11.~
This is “Old Michaelmas Day.”
“DUNCAN’S VICTORY.”
On the 11th of October, 1797, admiral Duncan obtained a splendid victory over the Dutch fleet off Camperdown, near the isle of Texel, on the coast of Holland. For this memorable achievement he was created a viscount, with a pension of two thousand pounds per annum. His lordship died on the 4th of August, 1804; he was born at Dundee, in Scotland, on the 1st of July, 1731. After the battle of Camperdown was decided, he called his crew together in the presence of the captured Dutch admiral, who was greatly affected by the scene, and Duncan kneeling on the deck, with every man under his command, “solemnly and pathetically offered up praise and thanksgiving to the God of battles;--strongly proving the truth of the assertion, that piety and courage should be inseparably allied, and that the latter without the former loses its principal virtue.”[382]
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 51·82.
[382] Butler’s Chronological Exercises.
~October 12.~
CHRONOLOGY.
On the 12th of October, 1748, was born at St. John’s near Worcester, Mr. William Butler, the author of “Chronological, Biographical, Historical, and Miscellaneous Exercises,” an excellent work, for young persons especially, a useful compendium in every library, and one to which the editor of the Every-Day Book has been indebted as a ready guide to many interesting and important events.
In the seventh edition of Mr. Butler’s work just mentioned, we are informed by his son, Mr. John Olding Butler, that his father was educated in the city of Worcester. Having acquired considerable knowledge, and especially an excellent style of penmanship, he in 1765 repaired to the metropolis, and commenced his career as a teacher of writing and geography. In these branches of education he attained the highest repute on account of the improvements which were introduced by him in his mode of instruction. His copies were derived from the sources of geography, history, and biographical memoirs. A yet more extensive and permanent benefit was conferred upon young persons by the many useful and ingenious works which he published, a list of which is subjoined. They contain a mass of information, both instructive and entertaining, rarely collected in one form, and are admirably adapted to promote the great design of their author--the moral, intellectual, and religious improvement of the rising generation; to this he consecrated all his faculties, the stores of his memory, and the treasures of his knowledge.
As a practical teacher Mr. Butler had few superiors, and his success in life was commensurate with his merit: he was the most popular instructor in his line.
A strict probity, an inviolable regard to truth, an honourable independence of mind, and a diffusive benevolence, adorned his moral character; and to these eminent virtues must be added, that of a rigid economy and improvement of time, for which he was most remarkable. How much he endeavoured to inculcate that which he deemed the foundation of every virtue, the principle of religion, may be seen in his “Chronological, &c., Exercises:” to impress this principle on the youthful heart and mind was considered by him as the highest duty. Mr. Butler’s professional labours were commenced at the early age of seventeen, and were continued with indefatigable ardour to the last year of his life, a period of fifty-seven years. In estimating the value of such a man, we should combine his moral principle with his literary employments; these were formed by him into duties, which he most conscientiously discharged: and he will be long remembered as one who communicated to a large and respectable circle of pupils solid information, examples of virtue, and the means of happiness; and who, in an age fruitful of knowledge, by his writings instructed, and will long continue to instruct the rising generation, and benefit mankind. His virtues will live and have a force beyond the grave.
Mr. Butler died at Hackney, August 1, 1822, after a painful illness, borne with exemplary patience and resignation. He was one of the oldest inhabitants of that parish, and was interred there, by his own desire, in the burying-ground attached to the meeting-house of his friend, the late Rev. Samuel Palmer.
* * * * *
A list of Mr. Butler’s books for the use of young persons.
1. CHRONOLOGICAL EXERCISES, already mentioned. Price 6_s._ bound.
2. An engraved INTRODUCTION to ARITHMETIC, designed to facilitate young beginners, and to diminish the labour of the tutor. 4_s._ 6_d._ bound.
3. ARITHMETICAL QUESTIONS, on a new plan; intended to answer the double purpose of arithmetical instruction and miscellaneous information. 6_s._ bound.
4. GEOGRAPHICAL and BIOGRAPHICAL EXERCISES, on a new plan. 4_s._
5. EXERCISES on the GLOBES, interspersed with historical, biographical, chronological, mythological, and miscellaneous information, on a new plan. The ninth edition. 6_s._ bound.
6. A numerous collection of ARITHMETICAL TABLES. 8_d._
7. GEOGRAPHICAL EXERCISES IN THE NEW TESTAMENT; with maps, and a brief account of the principal religious sects. 5_s._ 6_d._ bound.
8. MISCELLANEOUS QUESTIONS, relating principally to English history and biography. Second edition, enlarged. 4_s._
Mr. BOURN, son-in-law of Mr. Butler, and his associate in his profession upwards of thirty years, purchased the copyright of the greater part of Mr. Butler’s works. They have passed through a number of editions, and if the Every-Day Book extend a knowledge of their value, it will be to the certain benefit of those for whose use they were designed. The envious and suspicious may deny that there is such a quality as “disinterestedness in human actions,” yet the editor has neither friendship nor intimacy with any one whom this notice may appear to favour. He only knows Mr. Butler’s books, and therefore recommends them as excellent aids to parents and teachers.
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 50·10.
~October 13.~
TRANSLATION K. EDWARD. CONF.
This notice of the day in the church of England calendar and almanacs, denotes it as the festival of the translation of king Edward the Confessor.[383]
* * * * *
Edward the Confessor died on the 5th of January, 1066, and was buried in the abbey church of St. Peter, Westminster. “His queen, Edgitha, survived the saint many years;” she was buried beside him, and her coffin was covered with plates of silver and gold. According to his biographers, in 1102, the body of St. Edward was found entire, the limbs flexible, and the clothes fresh. The bishop of Rochester “out of a devout affection, endeavoured to pluck onely one hayre from his head, but it stuck so firmly that he was defeated of his desire.” This was at the saint’s first translation. Upon miracles “duly proved, the saint was canonized by Alexander III., in 1161.” It appears that “there are commemorated severall translations of his sacred body.” In 1163, “it was again translated by S. Thomas à Becket, archbishop of Canterbury, in the presence of king Henry II. This translation seems to have been made on the 13th of October; for on that day “he is commemorated in our martyrologe, whereas in the Roman he is celebrated on the 5th of January.” It further appears that, “about a hundred years after, in the presence of king Henry III., it was again translated, and reposed in a golden shrine, prepared for it by the same king.[384]
* * * * *
The see of Rome is indebted to Edward the Confessor for a grant to the pope of what was then called Rome-scot, but is now better known by the name of “Peterpenny.” The recollection of this tribute is maintained by the common saying “no penny, no paternoster;” of which there is mention in the following poem from the “Hesperides:”--
Fresh strewings allow To my sepulcher now, To make my lodging the sweeter; A staffe or a wand Put then in my hand, With a penny to pay S. Peter.
Who has not a crosse, Must sit with the losse, And no whit further must venture; Since the porter he Will paid have his fee, Or els not one there must enter.
Who at a dead lift, Can’t send for a gift, A pig to the priest for a roster Shall heare his clarke say, By yea and by nay, No penny no pater noster.
Herrick.
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 50·62.
[383] See vol. 1. 1376.
[384] Butler. Cresys.
~October 14.~
A LUCKY DAY.
“SOME MEMORABLE REMARQUES upon the FOURTEENTH OF OCTOBER, being the Auspicious Birth-Day of His Present Majesty The Most Serene King JAMES II. Luc. xix. 42 In Hoc Die Tuo. In This THY DAY. London, Printed by A. R. And are to be sold by Randal Taylor, near Stationers-Hall 1687.” Folio.
In this curious tract, the author purports to set forth “how lucky the Fourteenth of October hath been to the princes of England,” and because he discovers “out of Wharton’s Gesta Britannorum, and the collections of others, that his late royal highness, our magnanimous magnificent sovereign, (James II.,) was also born upon that augural day,” he observes--“It made more than ordinary impression upon me, so that I never saw him, but, I thought, in his very face there were extraordinary instances and tokens of regality.”
There were some, it seems, who, after “his late royal highness” the dukes “recess into Holland,” “exceedingly tryumphed, wishing he might never return; nay, that he durst not, nor would be permitted so to do; using, moreover, opprobrious terms.” These persons, he tells us, he “prophetically characteris’d” in his “Introductio ad Latinam Blasoniam;” hence, he says, “Indignation made me print my ensuing sentiments,” which “found good acceptance among the better and more loyal sort;” and hence, he further says, “things by me forethought, and publickly hinted, being come to pass, my Day Fatality began to be remembred; and one whom I wish very well, desiring I would give him leave to reprint that, and two other of my small pieces together, I assented to his request.” These form the present treatise, from whence we gather that the Fourteenth of October
------------- “gave the Norman duke That vict’ry whence he England’s scepter took,”
and was remarkable for the safe landing of Edward III., after being endangered by a tempest at sea on his returning victorious from France. Wherefore, says our author, in Latin first, and then in these English lines--
“Great duke rejoice in this your day of birth, And may such omens still increase your mirth.”
Afterwards he relates, from Matthew Paris, that when “Lewis king of France had set footing here, and took some eminent places, he besieged Calais from 22 of July, to the Fourteenth of October following, about which time the siege was raised, and England thereby relieved.” Likewise “a memorable peace, (foretold by Nostradamus) much conducing to the saving of christian blood, was made upon the Fourteenth of October, 1557, between pope Paul the IV., Henry the II. of France, and Philip the II. of Spain.” Whereon, exclaims our exultant author, “A lucky day this, not only to the princes of England, but auspicious to the welfare of Europe.” He concludes by declaring “that it may be so to his royal highness, as well as it was to the most great queen his mother, are the hearty prayers of BLEW-MANTLE.”
From the conclusion of the last sentence, and the previous reference to his “Blasoniam,” we find this writer to have been John Gibbon, the author of “An Easie Introduction to Latine Blason, being both Latine and English”--an octavo volume, now only remembered by the few collectors of every thing written on “coat-armour.”
* * * * *
Gibbon speaks of one of his pamphlets “whose title should have been Dux Bonis Omnibus Appellens, or The Swans’ Welcome;” or rather, as he afterwards set it out at large, “Some Remarks upon the Note-worthy Passage, mentioned in the TRUE DOMESTICK INTELLIGENCE dated October the Fourteenth 1679, concerning a company of SWANS more than ordinary gathered together at his royal highness’s landing.” Instead, however, of its having such a title, he tells us “there was a strange mistake, not only in that, but in other material circumstances; so that many suppose, the printer could never have done it himself, but borrowed the assistance of the evil spirit to render it ridiculous, and not only so, but the very Duke himself and the Loyal Artillery!”, wherefore “the printer smothered the far greatest number of them,” yet, as he adds it to the tract on the Fourteenth of October, we have the advantage to be told “what authors say of the candid Swan,” that all esteem him for a “bird royal,” that “oftentimes in coats and crests we meet him either crown’d or coronally collar’d,” that “he is a bird of great beauty and strength also,” that “shipmen take it for good luck if in peril of shipwreck they meet swans,” that “he uses not his strength to prey or tyrannize over any other fowl, but only to be revenged of such as offer him wrong,” and so forth. Ergo--according to “Blew-mantle,” we should believe that, “the most serene king James II.” was greeted by these honourable birds, “in allegory assembled,” to signify his kindred virtues. If Gibbon lived from 1687, where he published his “Remarques, on the Fourteenth of October” as the auspicious birth-day of James II. until the landing of William III. in the following year--did he follow the swan-like monarch to the court of France, or remain “Blew-mantle” in the Herald’s college, to do honour to the court of “the deliverer?”
Gibbon, in his “Remarques,” on the “auspicious” Fourteenth of October, prints the following epistle, to himself, which may be regarded as a curiosity on account of the superstition of its writer.
A letter from Sir Winston Churchil, Knight; Father to the Right Honourable, John Lord Churchil.
I Thank you for your kind Present, the Observation of the Fatality of Days. I have made great Experience of the Truth of it; and have set down Fryday, as my own Lucky Day; the Day on which I was Born, Christen’d, Married, and, I believe, will be the Day of my Death: The Day whereon I have had sundry Deliverances, (too long to relate) from Perils by Sea and Land, Perils by False Brethren, Perils of Law Suits, &c. I was Knighted (by chance, unexpected by my self) on the same Day; and have several good Accidents happened to me, on that Day: And am so superstitious in the Belief of its good Omen, That I chuse to begin any Considerable Action (that concerns me) on the same Day. I hope HE, whom it most concerns, will live to own your Respect, and Good Wishes, expressed in That Essay of yours: Which discovering a more than common Affection to the DUKE, and being as valuable for the Singularity of the Subject, as the Ingenuity of your Fancy, I sent into Flanders, as soon as I had it; That They on the Other Side the Water may see, ’Tis not all sowre Wine, that runs from our English Press.
* * * * *
“The Right Honourable, John Lord Churchil,” mentioned at the head of this ominous letter, became celebrated as “the great duke of Marlborough.” Sir Winston Churchill was the author of “Divi Britannici, a history of the lives of the English kings” in folio; but his name is chiefly remembered in connection with his son’s, and from his having also been father to Arabella Churchill, who became mistress to the most serene king of Blew-Mantle Gibbon, and from that connection was mother of the duke of Berwick, who turned his arms against the country of her birth.
Sir Winston was a cavalier, knighted at the restoration of Charles II., for exertions in the royal cause, by which his estates became forfeited. He recovered them under Charles, obtained a seat in the house of commons, became a fellow of the royal society, had a seat at the board of green cloth, and died in 1688. He was born in 1620, at Wootton Glanville, in Dorsetshire.[385] His letter on “Fryday” is quite as important as his “Divi Britannici.”
TAKING HONEY WITHOUT KILLING THE BEES.
On the 14th day of October, 1766, Mr. Wildman, of Plymouth, who had made himself famous throughout the west of England for his command over bees, was sent for to wait on lord Spencer, at his seat at Wimbledon, in Surrey; and he attended accordingly. Several of the nobility and persons of fashion were assembled, and the countess had provided three stocks of bees. The first of his performances was with one hive of bees hanging on his hat, which he carried in his hand, and the hive they came out of in the other hand; this was to show that he could take honey and wax without destroying the bees. Then he returned into the room, and came out again with them hanging on his chin, with a very venerable beard. After showing them to the company, he took them out upon the grass walk facing the windows, where a table and table cloth being provided, he set the hive upon the table, and made the bees hive therein. Then he made them come out again, and swarm in the air, the ladies and nobility standing amongst them, and no person stung by them. He made them go on the table and took them up by handfuls, and tossed them up and down like so many peas; he then made them go into their hive at the word of command. At five o’clock in the afternoon he exhibited again with the three swarms of bees, one on his head, one on his breast, and the other on his arm, and waited on lord Spencer in his room, who had been too much indisposed to see the former experiments; the hives which the bees had been taken from, were carried by one of the servants. After this exhibition he withdrew, but returned once more to the room with the bees all over his head, face, and eyes, and was led blind before his lordship’s window. One of his lordship’s horses being brought out in his body clothes, Mr. Wildman mounted the horse, with the bees all over his head and face, (except his eyes;) they likewise covered his breast and left arm; he held a whip in his right hand, and a groom led the horse backwards and forwards before his lordship’s window for some time. Mr. Wildman afterwards took the reins in his hand, and rode round the house; he then dismounted, and made the bees march upon a table, and at his word of command retire to their hive. The performance surprised and gratified the earl and countess and all the spectators who had assembled to witness this great bee-master’s extraordinary exhibition.[386]
* * * * *
Can the honey be taken without destroying the bees? There are accounts to this effect in several books, but some of the methods described are known to have failed. The editor is desirous of ascertaining, whether there is a convenient mode of preserving the bees from the cruel death to which they are generally doomed, after they have been despoiled of their sweets.
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 50·85.
[385] General Biographical Dictionary, (Hunt and Clarke,) vol. i.
[386] Annual Register, 1766.
~October 15.~
EXHUMATION.
It appears from a printed half sheet, of which the following is a copy, that the will of a person who had been resident at Stevenage, was proved on this day in the year 1724, whereby he desired his remains to be kept unburied. It is a curious document, and further information respecting the individual whose caprice was thus indulged will be acceptable.
(COPY)
THE ECCENTRIC WILL
OF THE LATE
HENRY TRIGG, OF STEVENAGE,
Where his Remains are still upon the Rafters of the West End of the Hovel, and may be viewed by any Traveller who may think it worthy of Notice.
The same is recorded in History, and may be depended on as a Fact.
~In the Name of God, Amen.~
I, HENRY TRIGG, of Stevenage, in the County of Hertford, Grocer, being very infirm and weak in body, but of perfect sound mind and memory, praised be God for it, calling unto mind the mortality of my body, do now make and ordain this my last WILL and TESTAMENT, in writing hereafter following, that is to say:--Principally I recommend my Soul into the merciful hands of Almighty God that first gave me it, assuredly believing and only expecting free pardon and forgiveness of all my sins, and eternal life in and through the only merits, death, and passion of Jesus Christ my Saviour; and as to my body, I commit it to the West End of my Hovel, to be decently laid there upon a floor erected by my Executor, upon the purlins, upon the same purpose, nothing doubting but at the general Resurrection I shall receive the same again by the mighty power of God, and as for and concerning such wordly substance as it hath pleased God to bless me with in this life, I do devise and dispose of the same in manner and form following.
Imprimis.--I give and devise unto my loving brother THOMAS TRIGG, of Letchworth, in the County of Hertford, Clerk, and to his Heirs and Assigns for ever, all those my Freehold Lands lying dispersedly in the several Common Fields and parish of Stevenage aforesaid, and also all my Copyhold Lands, upon condition that he shall lay my body upon the place before-mentioned: and also all that Messuage, Cottage, or Tenement, at Redcoat’s Green, in the parish of Much Wymondly, together with those Nine Acres of Land, (more or less) purchased of William Hale and Thomas Hale, junr. and also my Cottage, Orchard, and Barn, with Four Acres of Land (more or less) belonging, lying, and being in the parish of Little Wymondly, now in the possession of SAMUEL KITCHENER, labourer; and also all my Cottages, Messuages, or Tenements, situate and being in Stevenage, aforesaid; or, upon condition that he shall pay my brother GEORGE TRIGG the sum of Ten Pounds per annum for his life; but if my brother should neglect or refuse to lay my body where I desire it should be laid, then upon that condition, I Will and bequeath all that which I have already bequeathed to my brother THOMAS TRIGG, unto my brother GEORGE TRIGG, and to his Heirs for ever: and if my brother GEORGE TRIGG, should refuse to lay my body under my Hovel, then what I have bequeathed unto him as all my Lands and Tenements, I lastly bequeath them unto my Nephew WILLIAM TRIGG, and his Heirs for ever, upon his seeing that my body is decently laid up there as aforesaid.
Item.--I give and bequeath unto my Nephew WILLIAM TRIGG, the sum of Five Pounds at the age of Thirty Years: to his Sister SARAH the sum of Twenty Pounds; to his Sister ROSE the sum of Twenty Pounds; and lastly to his Sister ANN the sum of Twenty Pounds, all at the age of Thirty Years: to JOHN SPENCER, of London, Butcher, the sum of One Guinea; and to SOLOMON SPENCER, of Stevenage, the sum of One Guinea, three years next after my decease; to my cousin HENRY KIMPTON, One Guinea, one year next after my decease; and another Guinea, two years after my decease; to WILLIAM WABY, Five Shillings; and to JOSEPH PRIEST, Two Shillings and Sixpence, two years after my decease; to my tenant ROBERT WRIGHT the sum of Five Shillings, two years next after my decease; and to RALPH LOWD and JOHN REEVES, One Shilling each, two years next after my decease.
Item.---- All the rest of my Goods, and Chattels, and personal Estate, and ready Money, I do hereby give and devise unto my Brother THOMAS TRIGG, paying my Debts and laying my Body where I would have it laid, whom I likewise make and ordain my full and sole Executor of this my last Will and Testament, or else to them before mentioned; ratifying and confirming this and no other to be my last Will and Testament. In witness whereof I have hereunto set my Hand and Seal, this twenty-eighth day of September, in the year of our Lord, one Thousand seven Hundred and twenty four.
HENRY TRIGG.
Read, Signed, Sealed, and declared by the said HENRY TRIGG, the Testator, to be his last Will and Testament, in the presence of us, who have subscribed our Names as Witnesses hereto, in the Presence of the said Testator.
JOHN HAWKINS, Senr.
JOHN HAWKINS, Junr.
The mark [X] of WILLIAM SEXTON.
Proved in the Archdeaconry of Huntingdon, the 15th of October, 1724, by the Executor THOMAS TRIGG.
* * * * *
In October, 1743, a cobbler, at Bristol, died of a bite in the finger inflicted by a cat, which was sent to his house by an old woman in revenge for his calling her “Witch,” against which dipping in salt water proved ineffectual. “This, they say, was well attested;” and well it might be; for doubtless the cat was mad, and the woman, bewitched by the unhappy cobbler of Bristol, had no more to do with the bite, than “the old woman of Ratcliff-highway.”
* * * * *
The 15th day of October was dedicated by “the Merchants to Mercury,” and is so noted in the calendar of Julius Cæsar. This name is derived a mercibus, because he was the god of merchandize; and, in that quality, he is sometimes represented as a young man without a beard, holding on his wrists a cock as an emblem of vigilance, and in his hand a purse as its reward. A beautiful head of this deity on hiacynth, in the possession of lord Clanbrassill, when it was charmingly etched by Worlidge, is pictured in the present engraving. It suggests itself as one of the most elegant forms for a seal that can be presented to the eye.
* * * * *
Gather your rose-buds while you may, Old Time is still a-flying; And that same flower that blooms to-day, To-morrow may be dying.
The glorious lamp of heaven, the Sun, The higher he is getting, The further still his course is run, And nearer he’s to setting.
An elevated stand he takes, And to the fiddle’s squeak, he makes A loud and entertaining lecture On every wonder-working picture:-- The children cry “hark!--look at that!” And folks put money in the hat; Or buy his papers that explain The stories they would hear again.
This engraving is taken from one by Chodowiecki, of Berlin, to show the German showman, on his stage of boards and tressils, as he shows his pictures. These are usually prints stretched out, side by side, on an upright frame, or sometimes oil paintings representing characters or situations of interest. For instance, in the present exhibition there is the mode of keeping the festival of the new year, a grand ball, a feast, a wedding, a “high sight” of the court, and, in all, thirteen subjects, sufficiently beyond the intimacy of the populace to excite their curiosity. The showman commonly details so much concerning every thing in his grand exhibition, and so elevates each, as to interest his auditors to the height of desiring further particulars. The stories are printed separately in the shape of ballads or garlands, and “embellished with cuts;” by the sale of these to his auditors he obtains the reward of his oratory.
The qualifications for a German showman are a manly person, sonorous voice, fluent delivery, and imposing manner. In dress he is like a sergeant-major, and in address like a person accustomed to command. He is accompanied in his speeches by a fiddler of vivacity or trick, to keep the people “in merry pin.” This associate is generally an old humourist, with a false nose of strange form and large dimensions, or a huge pair of spectacles. Their united exertions are sure to gratify audiences more disposed to be pleased than to criticise. With them, the show is an affair of like or dislike to the eye, and beyond that the judgment is seldom appealed to on the spot. If the outlines of the showman’s stories are bold, and well expressed, they are sure to amuse; his printed narratives are in good demand; both exhibitors and auditors part satisfied with each other; and they frequently meet again. This is the lowest order of the continental street comedy. In England we have not any thing like it, nor are we likely to have; for, though strange sights almost cease to attract, yet the manager and musician to a rational exhibition of this sort, in the open air, clearly come within the purview of recent acts of parliament, and would be consigned to the tread-mill. What recreation, however, can be more harmless if the subjects are harmless. “Death and the Lady,” the “Bloody Gardener’s Cruelty,” and the numerous tribe of stories to which these garlands belong, continue to be pinned on lines against a few walls of the metropolis, but they cease to attract. The “common people,” as they are called, require a new species of street entertainment and a new literature: both might be easily supplied with infinite advantage to the public morals.
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 50·72.
~October 16.~
THE SEASON.
An appearance at this time of the year, already noticed, appears to have surprised our countrymen in Lancashire. Though there is no doubt that the authorities who communicate the intelligence believe it very remarkable, yet it is doubtful whether the occurrence may not be more frequent in that part of England than they have had the opportunity of remarking. Their account is to the following purport:--
On Sunday, October 1, 1826, a phenomenon of rare occurrence in the neighbourhood of Liverpool was observed in that vicinage, and for many miles distant, especially at Wigan. The fields and roads were covered with a light filmy substance, which by many persons was mistaken for cotton; although they might have been convinced of their error, as staple cotton does not exceed a few inches in length, while the filaments seen in such incredible quantities extended as many yards. In walking in the fields the shoes were completely covered with it, and its floating fibres came in contact with the face in all directions. Every tree, lamppost, or other projecting body had arrested a portion of it. It profusely descended at Wigan like a sleet, and in such quantities as to affect the appearance of the atmosphere. On examination it was found to contain small flies, some of which were so diminutive as to require a magnifying glass to render them perceptible. The substance so abundant in quantity was the gossamer of the garden, or field spider, often met with in the country in fine weather, and of which, according to Buffon, it would take 663,552 spiders to produce a single pound.[387]
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 58·45.
[387] Liverpool Mercury. See The Times, October 9.
~October 17.~
A LYING-IN CUSTOM.
A lady who is pleased to grace these columns by her pen, transmits a very minute description of a very “comfortable thing” at this time of the year, which may well be extended from a particular usage at an interesting period, to a general one.
SUGARED TOAST.
To the Editor of the Every-Day Book.
Westbury, September 10, 1826.
Sir,--I suspect that although you solicit the aid of correspondents in furnishing your excellent miscellany with accounts of local customs, you scarcely expect to receive one which appertains to that important time, when mothers increase their care, and fathers receive the additional “tender juveniles” with joy or sorrow, “as it may happen!” If you should give publicity to the following strange “feast,” (more honoured in the breach than in the observance,) I shall feel gratified, as it may not only lead to an elucidation of its meaning and origin, but will tend to convince your readers, that you will not despise their efforts at contribution, however humble. I am not a native of this part of the country, or, as the good people say here, I am not “one o’ Westbury,” for I have resided till lately in and near London, where the manners customs, and habits, are a hundred years in advance of those of the western part of the kingdom; hence, many of the usages that obtain around us, which now excite my surprise, would have passed as a thing of course, had I been always among them.
On the “confinement” of a lady,--but I must, before I proceed, define a lady “of these parts,” by the unerring test of her husband’s qualifications: if he can maintain his own, and her station in their little world, he is then “well to do,”--“a rich fellow enough, go to--a fellow that hath had losses, and which is more, a householder; one who hath two gowns to his back, and every thing handsome about him;”--one who recreates in his own gig; keeps a “main” of company; patronises the tiny theatre; grows his own pines, and tries to coax his forced plants into the belief that the three dozen mould candles which he orders to be lighted in his hot-house every evening, are “shedding delicious light,” left by the “garish god of day,” for their especial benefit, during his nocturnal rambles![388] The wife of such a man, sir, I designate a lady and when such a lady’s accouchement takes place, her “dear five hundred friends” are admitted to see her the next day. In London, the scale of friendship is graduated woefully lower; for visiters there, bear the pangs of absence from the interesting recluse a whole fortnight.
You are, doubtless, anxious to come to the “pith and marrow” of this communication, and I will tantalize you no longer. In “these” parts of the country, it is the custom, when a lady shall have been “as well as can be expected,” for thirteen or fourteen days, for the husband to enjoy what is called “the gentleman’s party,” viz: all his friends, bachelor and Benedict, are invited to eat “sugared toast,” which, (as the cookery-books always say,) “is thus prepared”--Rounds of bread are “baked,” (videlicit toasted,) each stratum spread thick with moist sugar, and piled up in a portly punch bowl, ready for action: “strong beer,” (anglice, home-brewed ale,) is in the mean time heated, and poured boiling hot over the mound of bread; which is taken immediately to the expectant guests, who quickly come to the conclusion of the gothic “mess.” How they contrive to emancipate the toast from the scalding liquid, I never could, by any effort of ingenuity and research, decide to my own satisfaction. A goodly slice you know, sir, it would be entirely impracticable to achieve; for in half a minute from the time of the admission of the “hot beer,” the toast must be “all of a swam,” (as we elegantly say here,) and, resembling the contents of the witch’s cauldron, “thick and slab.” Whether a soup ladle and soup plates are in requisition on the occasion, I am equally unable to ascertain; but on the final dismissal of this gentlemanly food, (for I by no means would insinuate that the congregation is limited to one act of devotion,) they magnanimously remunerate the “nurse,” by each putting money into the empty bowl, which is then conveyed to the priestess of their ignoble orgies! Of all the “mean and impotent conclusions” of a feast, defend me from that, which pays its “pic nic” pittance to an old crone, who is hired to attend the behests of the “lady,” but who by some strange mutation becomes the directress of the “gentleman’s” revels, and the recipient of the payment from his guests, for “sugar’d toast!”
Should this “custom,” be thought worthy of being admitted into the Every-Day Book, you will “tell” of something more than Herrick “dreamt of in his philosophy;” and the following couplet might “blush to find its fame” among his descriptive lines that adorn your title-page; after
“Bridegrooms, brides, and of their bridal cakes,”
might come--
“I tell of times when husbands rule the roast, And riot in the joys of ‘sugar’d toast;’ I tell of groves, &c.”
I am, Sir,
Yours very respectfully,
I. J. T.
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 50·60.
[388] A fact!
~October 18.~
DEATH OF THE LOTTERY.
If any thing can be believed that is said by the lottery people respecting the lottery, before the appearance of the next sheet of the Every-Day Book the lottery will be at an end for ever.
Particulars respecting the last moments of this “unfortunate malefactor,” will be very acceptable if transmitted immediately; and in order to an account of lotteries in the ensuing sheet, information and anecdotes respecting them are most earnestly desired.
FORGED NOTES IN SHOP WINDOWS.
A newspaper of this day in the year 1818, contains a paragraph which marks the discontent that prevailed in London, in consequence of a regulation adopted by the Bank of England at that time.
“The new mode adopted by the Bank, of stamping the forged notes presented to them for payment, and returning them to the parties who may have received them, has at least the good effect of operating as a caution to others, not to receive notes without the greatest caution. It has, however, another effect often productive of public inconvenience; for such are the doubts now entertained as to the goodness of every note tendered in payment, that many will not give change at all; and the disposition to adhere to this practice seems every day to be getting more general. In almost every street in town, forged notes are seen posted on tradesmen’s windows, and not unfrequently this exhibition is accompanied with the words ‘Tradesmen! beware of changing notes.’ The operation of stamping the forged notes, was at first performed by the hand, but now so arduous has this labour become, that a machine is erected for the purpose, and it would seem from the never-ceasing quantity of such paper in circulation, that it will be necessary to erect a steam-engine, so that hundreds may undergo the operation at once.”[389]
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 51·32.
[389] Observer.
~October 19.~
GARRICK.
“Garrick was, and Kemble is no more.”
On this day in the year 1741, the “British Roscius,” as he is emphatically termed, made his first appearance as “a gentleman who never appeared on any stage.” A remarkable event, precursing the revival of the drama, by Garrick, and its perfection by Kemble, deserves notice as a memorial of what “has been:” particularly as we have arrived at a period when, in consequence of managers having been outmanaged, and the public tricked out of its senses, the drama seems to have fallen to rise no more.
* * * * *
Leadenhall-street, October, 1826.
Sir,--The following is a copy of the play-bill that announced the first appearance of Mr. Garrick.
I am, Sir, yours truly,
H. B.
October 19, 1741.
GOODMAN’S FIELDS.
At the late Theatre in Goodman’s Fields, this day will be performed a Concert of Vocal and Instrumental Music, divided into two parts.
Tickets at Three, Two, and One Shilling.
Places for the boxes to be taken at the Fleece Tavern, near the Theatre.
N. B. Between the two parts of the Concert will be presented an Historical Play, called the Life and Death of
KING RICHARD THE THIRD, containing the distresses of King Henry VI.
The artful acquisition of the Crown by KING RICHARD,
The murder of the young King Edward V. and his brother, in the Tower.
The landing of the Earl of Richmond,
And the death of King Richard in the memorable battle of Bosworth Field, being the last that was fought between the Houses of York and Lancaster.
With many other true historical passages.
The part of KING RICHARD by a Gentleman.
(Who never appeared on any stage.)
King Henry, by Mr. Giffard; Richmond, Mr. Marshall; Prince Edward, by Miss Hippisley; Duke of York, Miss Naylor; Duke of Buckingham, Mr. Peterson; Duke of Norfolk, Mr. Blades; Lord Stanley, Mr. Pagett; Oxford, Mr. Vaughan; Tressel, Mr. W. Giffard; Catesby, Mr. Marr; Ratcliff, Mr. Crofts; Blunt, Mr. Naylor; Tyrrell, Mr. Puttenham; Lord Mayor, Mr. Dunstall; The Queen, Mrs. Steel; Duchess of York, Mrs. Yates;
And the part of Lady ANNE,
By Mrs. GIFFARD.
With Entertainments of Dancing
By Mons. Fromet, Madam Duvall, and the two Masters and Miss Granier.
To which will be added a Ballad Opera of one act, called
THE VIRGIN UNMASK’D.
The part of Lucy by Miss HIPPISLEY.
Both of which will be performed gratis by persons for their diversion.
The Concert will begin exactly at six o’clock.
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 51·10.
~October 20.~
WRESTLING.
A writer in a journal of this month, 1826,[390] gives the following account of several wrestling matches between men of Devonshire and Cornwall, on the 19th 20th and 21st of September preceding, at the Eagle-tavern-green, City-road. He says, “the difference in the style of wrestling of these two neighbouring shires, is as remarkable as that of the lineaments of their inhabitants. The florid chubby-faced Devon-man is all life and activity in the ring, holding himself erect, and offering every advantage to his opponent. The sallow sharp-featured Cornwall-man is all caution and resistance, bending himself in such a way, that his legs are inaccessible to his opponent, and waiting for the critical instant, when he can spring in upon his impatient adversary.”
The account of the matches at the Eagle-tavern then proceeds in the following manner:--
The contest between Abraham Cann and Warren, not only displayed this difference of style, but was attended with a degree of suspense between skill and strength, that rendered it extremely interesting.--The former, who is the son of a Devonshire farmer, has been backed against any man in England for 500_l._ His figure is of the finest athletic proportions, and his arm realizes the muscularity of ancient specimens: his force in it is surprising; his hold is like that of a vice, and with ease he can pinion the arms of the strongest adversary, if he once grips them, and keep them as close together, or as far asunder, as he chooses. He stands with his legs apart, his body quite upright, looking down good humouredly on his crouching opponent.--In this instance, his opponent Warren, a miner, was a man of superior size, and of amazing strength, not so well distributed however, throughout his frame; his arms and body being too lengthy in proportion to their bulk. His visage was harsh beyond measure, and he did not disdain to use a little craft with eye and hand, in order to distract his adversary’s attention. But he had to deal with a man as collected as ever entered the ring. Cann put in his hand as quietly as if he were going to seize a shy horse, and at length caught a slight hold between finger and thumb of Warren’s sleeve. At this, Warren flung away with the impetuosity of a surprised horse. But it was in vain; there was no escape from Cann’s pinch, so the miner seized his adversary in his turn, and at length both of them grappled each other by the arm and breast of the jacket. In a trice Cann tripped his opponent with the toe in a most scientific but ineffectual manner, throwing him clean to the ground, but not on his back, as required. The second heat began similarly, Warren stooped more, so as to keep his legs out of Cann’s reach, who punished him for it by several kicks below the knee, which must have told severely if his shoes had been on, according to his county’s fashion. They shook each other rudely--strained knee to knee--forced each other’s shoulders down, so as to overbalance the body--but all ineffectually.--They seemed to be quite secure from each other’s efforts, as long as they but held by the arm and breast-collar, as ordinary wrestlers do. A new grip was to be effected. Cann liberated one arm of his adversary to seize him by the cape behind: at that instant Warren, profiting by his inclined posture, and his long arms, threw himself round the body of the Devon champion, and fairly lifted him a foot from the ground, clutching him in his arms with the grasp of a second Anteæus.--The Cornish men shouted aloud, “Well done, Warren!” to their hero, whose naturally pale visage glowed with the hope of success. He seemed to have his opponent at his will, and to be fit to fling him, as Hercules flung Lycas, any how he pleased. Devonshire then trembled for its champion, and was mute. Indeed it was a moment of heart-quaking suspense.--But Cann was not daunted; his countenance expressed anxiety, but not discomfiture. He was off terra-firma, clasped in the embrace of a powerful man, who waited but a single struggle of his, to pitch him more effectually from him to the ground.--Without straining to disengage himself, Cann with unimaginable dexterity glued his back firmly to his opponent’s chest, lacing his feet round the other’s knee-joints, and throwing one arm backward over Warren’s shoulder, so as to keep his own enormous shoulders pressed upon the breast of his uplifter. In this position they stood at least twenty seconds, each labouring in one continuous strain, to bend the other, one backwards, the other forwards.--Such a struggle could not last. Warren, with the weight of the other upon his stomach and chest, and an inconceivable stress upon his spine, felt his balance almost gone, as the energetic movements of his countenance indicated.--His feet too were motionless by the coil of his adversary’s legs round his; so to save himself from falling backwards, he stiffened his whole body from the ankles upwards, and these last being the only liberated joints, he inclined forwards from them, so as to project both bodies, and prostrate them in one column to the ground together.--It was like the slow and poising fall of an undermined tower.--You had time to contemplate the injury which Cann the undermost would sustain if they fell in that solid, unbending posture to the earth. But Cann ceased bearing upon the spine as soon as he found his supporter going in an adverse direction. With a presence of mind unrateable, he relaxed his strain upon one of his adversary’s stretched legs, forcing the other outwards with all the might of his foot, and pressing his elbow upon the opposite shoulder. This was sufficient to whisk his man undermost the instant he unstiffened his knee--which Warren did not do until more than half way to the ground, when from the acquired rapidity of the falling bodies nothing was discernible.--At the end of the fall, Warren was seen sprawling on his back, and Cann whom he had liberated to save himself, had been thrown a few yards off on all-fours. Of course the victory should have been adjudged to this last. When the partial referree was appealed to, he decided, that it was not a fair fall, as only one shoulder had bulged the ground, though there was evidence on the back of Warren that both had touched it pretty rudely.--After much debating a new referree was appointed, and the old one expelled; when the candidates again entered the lists. The crowning beauty of the whole was, that the second fall was precisely a counterpart of the other. Warren made the same move, only lifting his antagonist higher, with a view to throw the upper part of his frame out of play. Cann turned himself exactly in the same manner using much greater effort than before, and apparently more put to it, by his opponent’s great strength. His share, however, in upsetting his supporter was greater this time, as he relaxed one leg much sooner, and adhered closer to the chest during the fall; for at the close he was seen uppermost, still coiled round his supine adversary, who admitted the fall, starting up, and offering his hand to the victor. He is a good wrestler too--so good, that we much question the authority of “The Times,” for saying that he is not one of the crack wrestlers of Cornwall.--From his amazing strength, with common skill he should be a first-rate man at this play, but his skill is much greater than his countrymen seemed inclined to admit.--Certain it is, they destined him the first prize, and had Cann not come up to save the honour of his county, for that was his only inducement, the four prizes, by judiciously matching the candidates, would no doubt have been given to natives of Cornwall.
BLACKFORD, THE BACKSWORD PLAYER.
To the Editor of the Every-Day Book.
Sir,--Your correspondent C. T. p. 1207, having given a description of “Purton Fair,” my grandmother and father born there, the birth-place of Anne Boleyn, I feel interested in the spot of my progenitors. C. T., speaking of old “Corey Dyne,” the gipsy, says a man named Blackford was the most noted Backsword-player of his day. He bore off the prizes then played for in London, Bath, Bristol, and Gloucester. When very young, at Lyneham grammar-school, I recollect this frontispiece despoiler broke fourteen heads, one after another; in the fifteenth bout, however, he pretty nearly found his match in the person of Isaac Bushel, a blacksmith of this place, who could bite a nail asunder, eat a shoulder of mutton with appendages, or fight friend or foe for love or money. It was a saying, “Bushel could take enough to kill a dozen men;” nor was his head unlike his name: he was the village Wat Tyler.
When the Somerset youths played with the Wiltshire on a stage on Calne-green, two years since, one of Blackford’s descendants gave a feeling proof of head-breaking with other heads of this blood-letting art, in which stratagem is used to conceal the crimson gush chiefly by sucking. Like fencing, attitude and agility are the great assistants to ensure success in backsword-playing; the basket is also of great service to the receiving of blows, and protecting the muscles of the wrist. The greatest exploits remembered at Purton by the present memorialist, arose out of the “Coronation of George the Third.” All the festivities of the seasons were concentrated, and May games and Christmas customs, without regard to usage, in full exercise. The belfry was filled day after day; any one that could pull a rope might ring, which is no easy task; the bells are deep, and two or three men usually raise the tenor. Some of the Blackfords lie in Purton churchyard.
October 5.
*, *, P.
* * * * *
The autumnal dress of a man in the fourteenth century is introduced, from the transcript of an illumination, in a manuscript which supplied the Spring and Summer dress of that age, before presented.
And here as suitable to the season may be subjoined some lines by a correspondent.
AUTUMNAL FEELINGS.
For the Every-Day Book.
The flowers are gone, the trees are bare, There is a chillness in the air, A damp that in the spirit sinks, Till the shudd’ring heart within me shrinks: Cold and slow the clouds roll past, And wat’ry drops come with the blast That moans, amid the poplars tall, A dirge for the summer’s funeral.
Every bird to his home has gone, Save one that loves to sing alone The robin;--in yon ruin’d tree He warbles sweetly, mournfully His shrill note comes upon the wind, Like a sound of an unearthly kind; He mourns the loss of his sunny bowers, And the silent haunts of happy hours.
There he sits like a desolate thing, With a dabbled breast and a dripping wing, He has seen his latent joys decline, Yet his heart is lighter far than mine; His task is o’er--his duty done, His strong-wing’d race on the wind have gone, He has nothing left to brood upon; He has still the hope of a friendly crumb When the wintry snow over earth shall come, And a shelter from the biting wind, And the welcome looks of faces kind.
I wander here amid the blast, And a dreary look I backward cast; The best of my years I feel are fled, And I look to the coming time with dread My heart in a desert land has been, Where the flower of hope alone was green; And little in life’s decline have I To expect from kindred’s sympathy. Like the leaves now whirl’d from yonder spray, The dreams I have cherish’d day by day, On the wings of sorrow pass away.
Yet I despair not--time will bring To the plumeless bird a new bright wing, A warmer breeze to the now chill’d flower, And to those who mourn a lighter hour; A gay green leaf to the faded tree, And happier days, I trust, to me. ‘Twas best that the weeds of sorrow sprung With my heart’s few flowers, while yet ’twas young, They can the sooner be destroy’d, And happiness fill their dreary void.
S. R. J.
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 50·77.
[390] The London Magazine.
~October 21.~
BATTLE OF TRAFALGAR.
In a dreadful engagement off Cape Trafalgar, on the 21st of October, 1805, between the English fleet, consisting of twenty-seven sail of the line and four frigates, and the combined fleets of France and Spain, consisting of thirty-three sail and seven frigates, which lasted four hours, twenty sail of the enemy were sunk or destroyed, and the French commander-in-chief, (admiral Villeneuve,) with two Spanish admirals, were made prisoners. The gallant Nelson was wounded about the middle of the action, and died nearly at its close.--“Thus terminated the brilliant career of our peerless NAVAL HERO, who was, beyond dispute, preeminent in courage, in a department of the British service where all our countrymen are proverbially courageous: who, to unrivalled courage, united skill equally conspicuous and extraordinary; who, in consequence of these rare endowments, never led on our fleets to battle that he did not conquer; and whose name was a tower of strength to England, and a terror to her foes.”[391]
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 50·62.
[391] Butler’s Chronological Exercises.
~October 22.~
CHILD PLAYED FOR.
In October, 1735, a child of James and Elizabeth Leesh, of Chester-le-street, in the county of Durham, was played for at cards, at the sign of the Salmon, one game, four shillings against the child, by Henry and John Trotter, Robert Thomson, and Thomas Ellison, which was won by the latter, and delivered to them accordingly.[392]
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 49·97.
ROMAN REMAINS AT PANCRAS.
A former notice of some antiquities in this vicinity, seems to have occasioned the subjoined article on similar remains. Its initials will be recognised as those of a correspondent, whose communications have been acceptable, and read with interest.
ROMAN REMAINS AT PANCRAS.
SIR,--In the ninetieth number of your Every-Day Book, (the present volume, col. 1197-1204,) a very interesting article appeared on the subject of the Roman remains near Pentonville, and thinking you may be inclined to acquaint your readers with “Cæsar’s Camp” at St. Pancras, situate near the old church, which are likely in the course of a short time to be entirely destroyed by the rage for improvement in that neighbourhood, I forward you the following particulars.
The only part at present visible is the prætorium of Cæsar, which may be seen in the drawing that accompanies this, but the ditch is now nearly filled up. I visited the spot about a week ago, and can therefore vouch for its existence up to that time, but every thing around it begins to bear a very different aspect to what it did about two years back, when my attention was particularly called to the spot from having read Dr. Stukeley’s remarks on the subject. At that time I was able to trace several other vestiges, which are entirely destroyed by the ground having been since dug up for the purpose of making bricks.
The following extracts are taken from the second volume of Dr. Stukeley’s “Itinerary.” The plan of the camp is taken from the same work. I shall feel pleasure if you will call attention to it, as you have already to the Roman remains at Pentonville.
I am, Sir, yours respectfully,
S. G.
October 9, 1826.
DR. STUKELEY’S ACCOUNT OF CÆSAR’S CAMP.
October, 1758.
Cæsar’s camp was situate where Pancras church is--his prætorium is still very plain--over against the church, in the footpath on the west side of the brook; the vallum and the ditch visible; its breadth from east to west forty paces, its length from north to south sixty paces. When I came attentively to consider the situation of it, and the circumjacent ground, I easily discerned the traces of his whole camp. A great many ditches or divisions of the pastures retain footsteps of the plan of the camp, agreeable to their usual form, as in the plate engraved; and whenever I take a walk thither, I enjoy a visionary scene of the whole camp of Cæsar as described in the plate before us; a scene just as if beheld, and Cæsar present.
His army consisted of forty thousand men. Four legions with his horse. The camp is in length five hundred paces--the thirty paces beyond, for the way between the tents and vallum, (where a vallum is made,) amounts to five hundred and sixty; so that the proportion of length to breadth is as three to two.
This space of ground was sufficient for Cæsar’s army according to Roman discipline, for if he had forty thousand men, a third part of them were upon guard.
The front of the camp is bounded by a spring with a little current of water running from the west, across the Brill, into the Fleet brook. This Brill was the occasion of the road directly from the city, originally going alongside the brook by Bagnigge; the way to Highgate being at first by Copenhagen-house, which is straight road thither from Gray’s-inn-lane.
This camp has the brook running quite through the middle of it: it arises from seven springs on the south side of the hill between Hampstead and Highgate by Caen wood, where it forms several large ponds, passes by here by the name of Fleet, washes the west side of the city of London, and gives name to Fleet-street. This brook was formerly called the river of wells, from the many springs above, which our ancestors called wells; and it may be thought to have been more considerable in former times than at present, for now the major part of its water is carried off in pipes to furnish Kentish-town, Pancras, and Tottenham-court; but even now in great rains the valley is covered over with water. Go a quarter of a mile higher towards Kentish-town and you may have a just notion of its appearance at that place, only with this difference, that it is there broader and deeper from the current of so many years. It must further be considered that the channel of this brook through so many centuries, and by its being made the public north road from London to Highgate, is very much lowered and widened since Cæsar’s time. It was then no sort of embarrassment to the camp, but an admirable convenience for watering, being contained in narrow banks not deep. The breadth and length are made by long tract of time. The ancient road by Copenhagen wanting repair, induced passengers to make this gravelly valley become much larger than in Cæsar’s time. The old division runs along that road between Finsbury and Holborn division, going in a straight line from Gray’s-inn-lane to Highgate: its antiquity is shown in its name--Madan-lane.
The recovery of this noble antiquity will give pleasure to a British antiquary, especially an inhabitant of London, whereof it is a singular glory. It renders the walk over the beautiful fields to the Brill doubly agreeable, when at half a mile distance we can tread in the very steps of the Roman camp master, and of the greatest of the Roman generals.
We need not wonder that the traces of this camp so near the metropolis are so nearly worn out; we may rather wonder that so much is left, when a proper sagacity in these matters may discern them, and be assured that somewhat more than three or four sorry houses are commemorated under the name of the Brill, (now called Brill-place-Terrace;) nor is it unworthy of remark, as an evident confirmation of our system, that all the ditches and fences now upon the ground, have a manifest respect to the principal members of the original plan of the camp.
In this camp Cæsar made the two British kings friends--Casvelham and his nephew Mandubrace.
I judge I have performed my promise in giving an account of this greatest curiosity, so illustrious a monument of the greatest of the Roman generals, which has withstood the waste of time for more than eighteen centuries, and passed unnoticed but half a mile off the metropolis. I shall only add this observation, that when I came to survey this plot of ground to make a map of it by pacing, I found every where even and great numbers, and what I have often formerly observed in Roman works; whence we may safely affirm the Roman camp master laid out his works by pacing.[393]
* * * * *
With the hope that the preceding article may draw attention to the subject, the editor defers remark till he has been favoured with communications from other hands.
THE ANTIQUARY.
The following lines were written by an old and particular friend of the erudite individual who received them:--
TO RICHARD GOUGH, ESQ.
O tu severi Religio loci!
Hail, genius of this littered study! Or tell what name you most delight in For sure where all the ink is muddy, And no clean margin left to write in, No common deity resides. We see, we feel thy power divine, In every tattered folio’s dust, Each mangled manuscript is thine, And thine the antique helmet’s rust. Nor less observed thy power presides Where plundered brasses crowd the floor, Or dog’s-eared drawings burst their binding Hid by Confusion’s puzzling door Beyond the reach of mortal finding. Than if beneath a costly roof Each moulding edged by golden fillet, The Russian binding, insect proof, Blushed at the foppery of ------ Give me, when tired by dust and sun, If rightly I thy name invoke, The bustle of the town to shun, And breathe unvext by city smoke. But, ah! if from these cobwebbed walls, And from this moth-embroidered cushion, Too fretful Fortune rudely calls, Resolved the cares of life to push on-- Give me at least to pass my age At ease in some book-tapestried cell, Where I may turn the pictured page, Nor start at visitants’ loud bell.[394]
[392] Sykes’s Local Records, p. 79.
[393] Dr. Stukeley’s Itinerary.
[394] Dr. Porster’s Perennial Calendar.
~October 23.~
ST. SURIN.
St. Surin, or St. Severin, which is his proper name, is a saint held in great veneration at Bordeaux; he is considered as one of the great patrons of the town. It was his native place, but he deserted it for a time to go and preach the gospel at Cologne. When he returned, St. Amand, then bishop of Bordeaux, went out with a solemn procession of the clergy to meet him, and, as he had been warned to do in a vision, resigned his bishopric to him, which St. Surin continued to enjoy as long as he lived. St. Amand continued at Bordeaux as a private person; but surviving St. Surin, he was at his death restored to the station from which he had descended with so much gentleness and resignation. It is among the traditions of the church of St. Surin at Bordeaux, that the cemetery belonging to it was “consecrated by Jesus Christ himself, accompanied by seven bishops, who were afterwards canonized, and were the founders of the principal churches in Aquitaine.”[395]
* * * * *
On an oval marble in Egham church, Surrey, are the following lines written by David Garrick, to the memory of the Reverend Mr. Thomas Beighton who was vicar of that church forty-five years, and died on the 23d of October, 1771, aged 73.
EPITAPH.
Near half an age, with every good man’s praise, Among his flock the shepherd passed his days; The friend, the comfort, of the sick and poor, Want never knock’d unheeded at his door. Oft when his duty call’d, disease and pain Strove to confine him, but they strove in vain. All mourn his death: his virtues long they try’d: They knew not how they lov’d him till he died. Peculiar blessings did his life attend: He had no foe, and Camden was his friend.
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 48·00.
[395] Miss Plumptre.
~October 24.~
AN OCTOBER SUNDAY MORNING IN COCKNEYSHIRE.
For the Every-Day Book.
“Vat’s the time, Villiam?”
“Kevarter arter seven.”
The “Mirror of the Months” seems to reflect every object to the reader’s eye; but not having read more of that work than by extract, in the Every-Day Book, I think an addendum, par hazard, may not be without truth and interest.
Rise early,--be abroad,--and after you have inspired sufficient fog to keep you coughing all day, you will see Jewboys and girls with their fathers and mothers veering forth from the purlieus of Houndsditch with sweetmeats, “ten a penny!” which information is sung, or said, ten thousand times before sunset. Now Irishmen, (except there be a fight in Copenhagen fields,) and women, are hurrying to and from mass, and the poorest creatures sit near the chapels, with all their own infants, and those of others, to excite pity, and call down the morning smile of charity.--Now newsboys come along the Strand with damp sheets of intelligence folded under their arms in a greasy, dirty piece of thick (once) brown paper, or a suitable envelope of leather. Now water-cress women, or rather girls, with chubby babies hanging on one arm, and a flat basket suspended from the shoulder by a strap, stand at their station-post, near the pump, at a corner of the street.[396] Now mechanics in aprons, with unshorn, unwashed faces, take their birds, dogs, and pipes, towards the fields, which, with difficulty, they find. Now the foot and horse-guards are preparing for parade in the parks--coaches are being loaded by passengers, dressed for “a few miles out of town”--the doors of liquor-shops are in motion--prayers at St. Paul’s and Westminster are responded by choristers,--crowds of the lower orders create discord by the interference of the officious street-keeper--and the “Angel” and “Elephant and Castle” are surrounded by jaunty company, arriving and departing with horses reeking before the short- and long-stage coaches.--Now the pious missionary drops religious tracts in the local stands of hackney coachmen, and paths leading to the metropolis.--Now nuts and walnuts slip-shelled are heaped in a basket with some dozens of the finest cracked, placed at the top, as specimens of the whole:--bullace, bilberries, sliced cocoa-nuts, apples, pears, damsons, blackberries, and oranges are glossed and piled for sale so imposingly, that no eye can escape them.--Now fruiterers’ and druggists’ windows, like six days’ mourning, are half shuttered.--Now the basket and bell pass your house with muffins and crumpets.[397]--Placards are hung from newsvenders’, at whose taking appearances, gossips stand to learn the fate of empires, during the lapse of hebdomadal warfare.--Now beggars carry the broom, and the great thoroughfares are in motion, and geese and game are sent to the rich, and the poor cheapen at the daring butcher’s shop, for a scrag of mutton to keep company in the pot with the carrots and turnips.--Now the Israelites’ little sheds are clothed with apparel, near which “a Jew’s eye” is watching to catch the wants of the necessitous that purchase at second-hand.--Now eels are sold in sand at the bridges, and steam-boats loiter about wharfs and stairs to take up stray people for Richmond and the Eel-pie house.--The pedestrian advocate now unbags his sticks and spreads them in array against a quiet, but public wall.--Chesnuts are just coming in, and biscuits and cordials are handed amongst the coldstreams relieving guard at Old Palace Yard, where the bands play favourite pieces enclosed by ranks and files of military men, and crowds of all classes and orders.--Now the bells are chiming for church,--dissenters and methodists are hastening to worship--baker’s counters are being covered with laden dishes and platters--quakers are silently seated in their meetings,--and a few sailors are surveying the stupendous dome of St. Paul’s, under which the cathedral service is performing on the inside of closed iron gates.--Now the beadle searches public-houses with the blinds let down.--Now winter patterns, great coats, tippets, muffs, cloaks and pelisses are worn, and many a thinly-clad carmelite shivers along the streets. With many variations, the “Sunday Morning” passes away; and then artizans are returning from their rustication, and servants are waiting with cloths on their arms for the treasures of the oven--people are seeking home from divine worship with appetites and purple noses--‘beer’ is echoed in every circle,--and post meridian assumes new features, as gravities and gaieties, in proportion to the weather, influence the cosmopolitan thermometer.
*, *, P.
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 48·47.
[396] This is the only month in the year in which water-cresses are without spawn.
[397] In Bath, before Sally Lunns were so fashionable, (their origin I shall shortly acquaint you with) muffins were cried with a song, beginning--
“Don’t you know the muffin man? Don’t you know his name? And don’t you know the muffin-man That lives in Bridewell-lane? &c.”
I reply, yes, I did know him, and a facetious little short fellow he was, with a face as pocked as his crumpets; but his civility gained him friends and competence,--virtue’s just reward.
~October 25.~
CRISPIN.
On this, the festival day of St. Crispin, enough has been already said[398] to show that it is the great holyday of the numerous brotherhood of cordwainers. The latter name they derive from their working in Spanish leather manufactured at Cordovan; their cordovan-ing has softened down into cordwaining.
SHOES AND BUCKLES.
The business of a shoemaker is of great antiquity. The instrument for cleaning hides, the shoemaker’s bristles added to the yarn, and his knife, were as early as the twelfth century. He was accustomed to hawk his goods, and it is conjectured that there was a separate trade for annexing the soles.[399] The Romans in classical times, wore cork soles in their shoes to secure the feet from water, especially in winter; and as high heels were not then introduced, the Roman ladies who wished to appear taller than they had been formed by nature, put plenty of cork under them.[400] The streets of Rome in the time of Domitian were blocked up by cobblers’ stalls, which he therefore caused to be removed. In the middle ages shoes were cleaned by washing with a sponge; and oil, soap, and grease, were the substitutes for blacking. Buckles were worn in shoes in the fourteenth century. In an Irish abbey a human skeleton was found with marks of buckles on the shoes. In England they became fashionable many years before the reign of queen Mary; the labouring people wore them of copper; other persons had them of silver, or copper-gilt; not long after shoe-roses came in.[401] Buckles revived before the revolution of 1689, remained fashionable till after the French revolution in 1789; and finally became extinct before the close of the eighteenth century.
* * * * *
In Robert Hegg’s “Legend of St. Cuthbert,” reprinted at the end of Mr. Dixon’s “Historical and Descriptive View of the city of Durham and its Environs,” we are told of St. Goodrick, that “in his younger age he was a pedlar, and carried his moveable shop from fair to fair upon his back,” and used to visit Lindisfarne, “much delighting to heare the monkes tell wonders of St. Cuthbert; which soe enflamed his devotion, that he undertooke a pilgrimage to the holy sepulchre; and by the advice of St. Cuthbert in a dreame, repayred againe to the holy land, and washing his feete in Jordan, there left his shoes, with a vow to goe barefoot all his life after.”
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 47·87.
[398] See vol. i. col. 1395.
[399] Fosbroke’s Ency. of Antiquities.
[400] Beckmann.
[401] Fosbroke.
~October 26.~
ROYAL DEBTS.
On this subject a curious notice is extracted from “the Postman, October 26-28, 1708”--viz.
Advertisement.
The Creditors of King Charles, K. James, and K. William, having found out and discovered sufficient Funds for securing a perpetual Interest for 4 Millions, without burdening the people, clogging the Trade or impairing the Revenue; and all their debts not amounting to near that Sum; the more to strengthen their interest, and to find the greater favour with the Parliament, have agreed that the Army and Transports Debentures and other Parliament Debts may if they please, joyn with them, and it is not expected that any great Debts shall pay any Charge for carrying on this Act, until it be happily accomplished, and no more will be expected afterwards than what shall be readily agreed to before hand, neither shall any be hindered from taking any other measures, if there should be but a suspicion of miscarriage, which is impossible if they Unite their Interest. They continue to meet by the Parliament Stairs in Old Palace-yard, there is a Note on the Door, where daily attendance is given from 10 in the Morning till 7 at Night; if any are not apprehensive of the certainty of the Success, they may come and have full satisfaction, that they may have their Money if they will.
NELSON
The notice of the battle wherein this illustrious admiral received his death-wound, (on the 21st,) might have been properly accompanied by the following quotation from a work which should be put into the chest of every boy on his going to sea. It is so delightfully written, as to rivet the attention of every reader whether mariner or landsman.
“The death of Nelson was felt in England as something more than a public calamity: men started at the intelligence, and turned pale, as if they had heard of the loss of a dear friend. An object of our admiration and affection, of our pride and of our hopes, was suddenly taken from us; and it seemed as if we had never, till then, known how deeply we loved and reverenced him. What the country had lost in its great naval hero--the greatest of our own, and of all former times--was scarcely taken into the account of grief. So perfectly, indeed, had he performed his part, that the maritime war, after the battle of Trafalgar, was considered at an end: the fleets of the enemy were not merely defeated, but destroyed: new navies must be built, and a new race of seamen reared for them, before the possibility of their invading our shores could again be contemplated. It was not, therefore, from any selfish reflection upon the magnitude of our loss that we mourned for him: the general sorrow was of a higher character. The people of England grieved that funeral ceremonies, public monuments, and posthumous rewards, were all which they could now bestow upon him, whom the king, the legislature, and the nation, would alike have delighted to honour; whom every tongue would have blessed; whose presence in every village through which he might have passed would have awakened the church bells, have given schoolboys a holiday, have drawn children from their sports to gaze upon him, and ‘old men from the chimney corner’ to look upon Nelson, ere they died. The victory of Trafalgar was celebrated, indeed, with the usual forms of rejoicing, but they were without joy; for such already was the glory of the British navy, through Nelson’s surpassing genius, that it scarcely seemed to receive any addition from the most signal victory that ever was achieved upon the seas: and the destruction of this mighty fleet, by which all the maritime schemes of France were totally frustrated, hardly appeared to add to our security or strength; for while Nelson was living, to watch the combined squadrons of the enemy, we felt ourselves as secure as now, when they were no longer in existence.--There was reason to suppose, from the appearances upon opening the body, that, in the course of nature, he might have attained, like his father, to a good old age. Yet he cannot be said to have fallen prematurely whose work was done; nor ought he to be lamented, who died so full of honours, and at the height of human fame. The most triumphant death is that of the martyr; the most awful, that of the martyred patriot; the most splendid, that of the hero in the hour of victory: and if the chariot and the horses of fire had been vouchsafed for Nelson’s translation, he could scarcely have departed in a brighter blaze of glory.”[402]
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 48·25.
[402] Southey’s Life of Nelson.
~October 27.~
FLEET MARKET.
On the 27th of October, 1736, Mr. Robinson a carpenter, and Mr. Medway a bricklayer, contracted to build Fleet-market, by the following midsummer, for 3970_l._[403]
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 47·50.
[403] Gentleman’s Magazine.
~October 28.~
(St. Simon and St. Jude.)
“WARDENS!”
A correspondent says, that about, or before this time, it is the custom at Bedford, now abouts, for boys to cry baked pears in the town with the following stanza--
“Who knows what I have got? In a pot hot? Baked Wardens--all hot! Who knows what I have got?”
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 46·30.
~October 29.~
OCTOBER IN LONDON.
On looking into the “Mirror of the Months,” we find “a lively portraiture” of the season.--“October is to London what April is to the country; it is the spring of the London summer, when the hopes of the shopkeeper begin to bud forth, and he lays aside the insupportable labour of having nothing to do, for the delightful leisure of preparing to be in a perpetual bustle. During the last month or two he has been strenuously endeavouring to persuade himself that the Steyne at Brighton is as healthy as Bond-street; the pavé of Pall Mall no more picturesque than the Pantiles of Tunbridge Wells; and winning a prize at one-card-loo at Margate, as piquant a process as serving a customer to the same amount of profit. But now that the time is returned when ‘business’ must again be attended to, he discards with contempt all such mischievous heresies, and reembraces the only orthodox faith of a London shopkeeper--that London and his shop are the true ‘beauteous and sublime’ of human life. In fact, ‘now is the winter of his discontent’ (that is to say, what other people call summer) ‘made glorious summer’ by the near approach of winter; and all the wit he is master of is put in requisition, to devise the means of proving that every thing he has offered to ‘his friends the public,’ up to this particular period, has become worse than obsolete. Accordingly, now are those poets of the shopkeepers, the inventors of patterns, ‘perplexed in the extreme; since, unless they can produce a something which shall necessarily supersede all their previous productions, their occupation’s gone.--It is the same with all other caterers for the public taste; even the literary ones. Mr. Elliston, [or his fortunate successor, if one there be,] ‘ever anxious to contribute to the amusement of his liberal patrons, the public,’ is already busied in sowing the seeds of a new tragedy, two operatic romances, three grand romantic melo-dramas, and half a dozen farces, in the fertile soil of those poets whom he employs in each of these departments respectively; while each of the London publishers is projecting a new ‘periodical,’ to appear on the first of January next; that which he started on the first of last January having, of course, died of old age ere this!”
BEGINNING OF “FIRES.”
In October, fires have fairly gained possession of their places, and even greet us on coming down to breakfast in the morning. Of all the discomforts of that most comfortless period of the London year which is neither winter nor summer, the most unequivocal is that of its being too cold to be without a fire, and not cold enough to have one. A set of polished fire-irons, standing sentry beside a pile of dead coals imprisoned behind a row of glittering bars, instead of mending the matter, makes it worse; inasmuch as it is better to look into an empty coffin, than to see the dead face of a friend in it. At the season in question, especially in the evening, one feels in a perpetual perplexity, whether to go out or stay at home; sit down or walk about; read, write, cast accounts, or call for the candle and go to bed. But let the fire be lighted, and all uncertainty is at an end, and we (or even one) may do any or all of these with equal satisfaction. In short, light but the fire, and you bring the winter in at once; and what are twenty summers, with all their sunshine (when they are gone,) to one winter, with its indoor sunshine of a sea-coal fire?[404]
* * * * *
Mr. Leigh Hunt, who on the affairs of “The Months” is our first authority, pleasantly inquires--“With our fire before us, and our books on each side, what shall we do? Shall we take out a life of somebody, or a Theocritus, or Dante, or Ariosto, or Montaigne, or Marcus Aurelius, or Horace, or Shakspeare who includes them all? Or shall we read an engraving from Poussin or Raphael? Or shall we sit with tilted chairs, planting our wrists upon our knees, and toasting the up-turned palms of our hands, while we discourse of manners and of man’s heart and hopes, with at least a sincerity, a good intention, and good nature, that shall warrant what we say with the sincere, the good-intentioned, and the good-natured?”--He then agreeably brings us to the mantlepiece. “Ah--take care. You see what that old looking saucer is, with a handle to it? It is a venerable piece of earthenware, which may have been worth, to an Athenian, about twopence; but to an author, is worth a great deal more than ever he could--deny for it. And yet he would deny it too. It will fetch his imagination more than ever it fetched potter or penny-maker. Its little shallow circle overflows for him with the milk and honey of a thousand pleasant associations. This is one of the uses of having mantlepieces. You may often see on no very rich mantlepiece a representative body of all the elements, physical and intellectual,--a shell for the sea, a stuffed bird or some feathers for the air, a curious piece of mineral for the earth, a glass of water with some flowers in it for the visible process of creation,--a cast from sculpture for the mind of man;--and underneath all, is the bright and ever-springing fire, running up through them heavenwards, like hope through materiality.”
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 46·02.
[404] Mirror of the Months.
~October 30.~
YEOMEN OF THE GUARD.
On this day in the year 1485, when king Henry VII. was crowned at Westminster, he instituted the body of royal attendants, called yeomen of the guard, who in later times acquired the appellation of “beef-eaters.”
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 47·17.
~October 31.~
HALLOW EVE.
The superstitious observances of this night, described in the former volume, are fast disappearing. In some places where young people were accustomed to meet for purposes of divination, and frequently frighten each other into fits, as of ancient custom, they have little regard to the old usages. The meetings on Hallow-eve are becoming pleasant merry-makings; the dance prevails till supper-time, when they take a cheerful glass and drink to their next happy meeting.
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 47·62.
And, when November came, there fell Another limning in, to tell The month’s employment; which we see Providance was, for time to be. Now was the last loud squeaking roar Of many a mighty forest boar, Whose head, when came the Christmas days, Was crown’d with rosemary and bays, And so brought in, with shoutings long, And minstrelsy, and choral song.
*
We can now perceive the departure of “that delightful annual guest, the summer, under the agreeable alias of autumn, in whose presence we have lately been luxuriating. We might, perhaps, by a little gentle violence, prevail upon her to stay with us for a brief space longer; or might at least prevail upon ourselves to believe that she is not quite gone. But we shall do better by speeding her on her way to other climes, and welcoming ‘the coming guest,’ gray-haired winter:”--nor can we do better at this moment than take “note of preparation,” for a grateful adieu to the year and welcome to the comer.
On ushering in the winter we recur to the “Mirror of the Months,” from whence we have derived so many delightful reflections, and take a few “looks” in it, for, perhaps, the last time. At this season last year it presented to us the evergreens, and now, with a “now,” we select other appearances.
* * * * *
Now--as the branches become bare, another sight presents itself, which, trifling as it is, fixes the attention of all who see it. I mean the birds’ nests that are seen here and there in the now transparent hedges, bushes, and copses. It is not difficult to conceive why this sight should make the heart of the schoolboy leap with an imaginative joy, as it brings before his eyes visions of five blue eggs lying sweetly beside each other, on a bed of moss and feathers; or as many gaping bills lifting themselves from out what seems one callow body. But we are, unhappily, not all schoolboys; and it is to be hoped not many of us ever have been bird-nesting ones. And yet we all look upon this sight with a momentary interest, that few other so indifferent objects are capable of exciting. The wise may condescend to explain this interest, if they please, or if they can. But if they do, it will be for their own satisfaction, not ours, who are content to be pleased, without insisting on penetrating into the cause of our pleasure.
* * * * *
Now, the felling of wood for the winter store commences; and, in a mild still day, the measured strokes of the wood-man’s axe, heard far away in the thick forest, bring with their sound an associated feeling, similar to that produced by a wreath of smoke rising from out the same scene: they tell us a tale of
“Uncertain dwellers in the pathless wood.”
* * * * *
THE WOODMAN.
Far removed from noise and smoke, Hark! I hear the woodman’s stroke, Who dreams not as he fells the oak, What mischief dire he brews;
How art may shape his falling trees, In aid of luxury and ease:-- He weighs not matters such as these, But sings, and hacks, and hews.
Perhaps, now fell’d by this bold man, That tree may form the spruce sedan; Or wheelbarrow, where oyster Nan Oft runs her vulgar rig;
The stage, where boxers crowd in flocks; Or else a quack’s; perhaps, the stocks; Or posts for signs; or barber’s blocks, Where smiles the parson’s wig.
Thou mak’st, bold peasant, oh what grief! The gibbet on which hangs the thief, The seat where sits the grave lord chief, The throne, the cobler’s stall.
Thou pamper’st life in ev’ry stage, Mak’st folly’s whims, pride’s equipage; For children, toys; crutches, for age; And coffins for us all.
C. Dibdin.
* * * * *
The “busy flail” too, which is now in full employment, fills the air about the homestead with a pleasant sound, and invites the passer-by to look in at the great open doors of the barn, and see the wheatstack reaching to the roof on either hand; the little pyramid of bright grain behind the threshers; the scattered ears between them, leaping and rustling beneath their fast-falling strokes; and the flail itself flying harmless round the labourers’ heads, though seeming to threaten danger at every turn; while, outside, the flock of “barn-door” poultry ply their ceaseless search for food, among the knee-deep straw; and the cattle, all their summer frolics forgotten, stand ruminating beside the half-empty hay-rack, or lean with inquiring faces over the gate that looks down into the village, or away towards the distant pastures.
* * * * *
Of the birds that have hitherto made merry even at the approach of winter, now all are silent; all, save that one who now earns his title of “the household bird,” by haunting the thresholds and window-cills, and casting sidelong glances in-doors, as if to reconnoitre the positions of all within, before the pinching frosts force him to lay aside his fears, and flit in and out, silently, like a winged spirit. All are now silent except him; but he, as he sits on the pointed palings beside the door-way, or on the topmost twig of the little black thorn that has been left growing in the otherwise closely-clipt hedge, pipes plaintive ditties with a low inward voice--like that of a love-tainted maiden, as she sits apart from her companions, and sings soft melodies to herself, almost without knowing it.
* * * * *
Some of the other small birds that winter with us, but have hitherto kept aloof from our dwellings, now approach them, and mope about among the house-sparrows, on the bare branches, wondering what has become of all the leaves, and not knowing one tree from another. Of these the chief are, the hedge-sparrow, the blue titmouse, and the linnet. These also, together with the goldfinch, thrush, blackbird, &c. may still be seen rifling the hip and haw grown hedges of their scanty fruit. Almost all, however, even of those singing-birds that do not migrate, except the redbreast, wren, hedge-sparrow, and titmouse, disappear shortly after the commencement of this month, and go no one knows whither. But the pert house-sparrow keeps possession of the garden and courtyard all the winter; and the different species of wagtails may be seen busily haunting the clear cold spring-heads, and wading into the unfrozen water in search of their delicate food, consisting of insects in the aurelia state.
* * * * *
Now, the farmer finishes all his out-of-door work before the frosts set in, and lays by his implements till the awakening of spring calls him to his hand-labour again.
Now, the sheep, all their other more natural food failing, begin to be penned on patches of the turnip-field, where they first devour the green tops joyfully, and then gradually hollow out the juicy root, holding it firm with their feet, till nothing is left but the dry brown husk.
Now, the herds stand all day long hanging their disconsolate heads beside the leafless hedges, and waiting as anxiously, but as patiently too, to be called home to the hay-fed stall, as they do in summer to be driven afield.
* * * * *
Now, cold rains come deluging down, till the drenched ground, the dripping trees, the pouring eaves, and the torn ragged-skirted clouds, seemingly dragged downward slantwise by the threads of dusky rain that descend from them, are all mingled together in one blind confusion; while the few cattle that are left in the open pastures, forgetful of their till now interminable business of feeding, turn their backs upon the besieging storm, and hanging down their heads till their noses almost touch the ground, stand out in the middle of the fields motionless, like dead images.
Now, too, a single rain-storm, like the above, breaks up all the paths and ways at once, and makes home no longer “home” to those who are not obliged to leave it; while, en revance, it becomes doubly endeared to those who are.
* * * * *
London is so perfect an antithesis to the country in all things, that whatever is good for the one is bad for the other. Accordingly, as the country half forgets itself this month, so London just begins to know itself again.--Its streets revive from their late suspended animation, and are alive with anxious faces and musical with the mingled sounds of many wheels.
Now, the shops begin to shine out with their new winter wares; though as yet the chief profits of their owners depend on disposing of the “summer stock,” at fifty per cent. under prime cost.
Now, the theatres, admonished by their no longer empty benches, try which shall be the first to break through that hollow truce on the strength of which they have hitherto been acting only on alternate nights.
Now, during the first week, the citizens see visions and dream dreams, the burthens of which are barons of beef; and the first eight days are passed in a state of pleasing perplexity, touching their chance of a ticket for the lord mayor’s dinner on the ninth.
Now, all the little boys give thanks in their secret hearts to Guy Faux, for having attempted to burn “the parliament” with “gunpowder, treason, and plot,” since the said attempt gives them occasion to burn every thing they can lay their hands on,--their own fingers included: a bonfire being, in the eyes of an English schoolboy, the true “beauteous and sublime of human life.”
ODE TO WINTER.
By a Gentleman of Cambridge.
From mountains of eternal snow, And Zembla’s dreary plains; Where the bleak winds for ever blow And frost for ever reigns,
Lo! Winter comes, in fogs array’d, With ice, and spangled dews; To dews, and fogs, and storms be paid The tribute of the Muse.
Each flowery carpet Nature spread Is vanish’d from the eye; Where’er unhappy lovers tread, No Philomel is nigh.
(For well I ween her plaintive note, Can soothing ease impart; The little warblings of her throat Relieve the wounded heart.)
No blushing rose unfolds its bloom, No tender lilies blow, To scent the air with rich perfume, Or grace Lucinda’s brow.
Th’ indulgent Father who protects The wretched and the poor; With the same gracious care directs The sparrow to our door.
Dark, scowling tempests rend the skies, And clouds obscure the day; His genial warmth the sun denies, And sheds a fainter ray.
Yet blame we not the troubled air, Or seek defects to find; For Power Omnipotent is there, And ‘walks upon the wind.’
Hail! every pair whom love unites In wedlock’s pleasing ties; That endless source of pure delights, That blessing to the wise!
Though yon pale orb no warmth bestows, And storms united meet. The flame of love and friendship glows With unextinguish’d heat.
~November 1.~
All Saints.[405]
INSCRIPTIONS IN CHURCHES.
A remarkable colloquy between queen Elizabeth and dean Nowell at St. Paul’s cathedral on the 1st of November, 1561, is said to have originated the usage of inscribing texts of scripture in English on the inner side of the church-walls as we still see them in many parishes.
Her majesty having attended worship “went straight to the vestry, and applying herself to the dean, thus she spoke to him.”
Q. Mr. Dean, how came it to pass that a new service-book was placed on my cushion?
To which the dean answered:
D. May it please your majesty, I caused it to be placed there.
Then said the queen:
Q. Wherefore did you so?
D. To present your majesty with a new-year’s gift.
Q. You could never present me with a worse.
D. Why so, madam?
Q. You know I have an aversion to idolatry and pictures of this kind.
D. Wherein is the idolatry, may it please your majesty?
Q. In the cuts resembling angels and saints; nay, grosser absurdities, pictures resembling the blessed Trinity.
D. I meant no harm: nor did I think it would offend your majesty when I intended it for a new-year’s gift.
Q. You must needs be ignorant then. Have you forgot our proclamation against images, pictures, and Romish relics in churches? Was it not read in your deanery?
D. It was read. But be your majesty assured, I meant no harm, when I caused the cuts to be bound with the service-book.
Q. You must needs be very ignorant, to do this after our prohibition of them.
D. It being my ignorance, your majesty may the better pardon me.
Q. I am sorry for it: yet glad to hear it was your ignorance, rather than your opinion.
D. Be your majesty assured it was my ignorance.
Q. If so, Mr. Dean, God grant you his Spirit, and more wisdom for the future.
D. Amen, I pray God.
Q. I pray, Mr. Dean, how came you by these pictures?--Who engraved them?
D. I know not who engraved them,--I bought them.
Q. From whom bought you them?
D. From a German.
Q. It is well it was from a stranger. Had it been any of our subjects, we should have questioned the matter. Pray let no more of these mistakes, or of this kind, be committed within the churches of our realm for the future.
D. There shall not.
* * * * *
Mr. Nichols, after inserting the preceding dialogue, in “Queen Elizabeth’s Progresses,” remarks--
“This matter occasioned all the clergy in and about London, and the churchwardens of each parish, to search their churches and chapels: and caused them to wash out of the walls all paintings that seemed to be Romish and idolatrous; and in lieu thereof suitable texts, taken out of the holy scriptures, to be written.”
Similar inscriptions had been previously adopted: the effect of the queen’s disapprobation of pictured representations was to increase the number of painted texts.
* * * * *
Mr. J. T. Smith observes, that of these sacred sentences there were several within memory in the old church of Paddington, now pulled down; and also in the little old one of Clapham.
In an inside view of Ambleside church, painted by George Arnald, Esq. A. R. A. he has recorded several, which are particularly appropriate to their stations; for instance, that over the door admonishes the comers in; that above the pulpit exhorts the preacher to spare not his congregation; and another within sight of the singers, encourages them to offer praises to the Lord on high. These inscriptions have sometimes one line written in black, and the next in red; in other instances the first letter of each line is of a bright blue, green, or red. They are frequently surrounded by painted imitations of frames or scrolls, held up by boys painted in ruddle. It was the custom in earlier times to write them in French, with the first letter of the line considerably larger than the rest, and likewise of a bright colour curiously ornamented. Several of these were discovered in 1801, on the ceiling of a closet on the south side of the Painted Chamber, Westminster, now blocked up.
Others of a subsequent date, of the reign of Edward III. in Latin, were visible during the recent alterations of the house of commons, beautifully written in the finest jet black, with the first letters also of bright and different colours.
Hogarth, in his print of the sleeping congregation, has satirized this kind of church embellishments, by putting a tobacco pipe in the mouth of the angel who holds up the scroll; and illustrates the usual ignorance of country art, by giving three joints to one of his legs. The custom of putting up sacred sentences is still continued in many churches, but they are generally written in letters of gold upon black grounds, within the pannels of the fronts of the galleries.[406]
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 48·00.
[405] See vol. 1. col. 1421.
[406] Mr. J. T. Smith’s Ancient Topography of London, 4to p. 11.
~November 2.~
All Souls.[407]
Naogeorgus in his satire, the “Popish Kingdome,” has a “description which” Dr Forster says “is grossly exaggerated, like many other accounts of catholics written by protestants.” If the remark be fair, it is fair also to observe that many accounts of protestants written by catholics are equally gross in their exaggerations. It would be wiser, because it would be honest, were each to relate truth of the other, and become mutually charitable, and live like christians. How far Naogeorgus misrepresented the usages of the Romish churchmen in his time, it would not be easy to prove; nor ought his lines which follow in English, by Barnaby Googe, to be regarded here, otherwise than as homely memorials of past days.
All Soulne Day.
For souls departed from this life, they also carefull bee; The shauen sort in numbers great, thou shalt assembled see, Where as their seruice with such speede they mumble out of hande, That none, though well they marke, a worde thereof can vnderstande. But soberly they sing, while as the people offring bee, For to releaue their parents soules that lie in miseree. For they beleeue the shauen sort, with dolefull harmonie, To draw the damned soules from hell, and bring them to the skie; Where they but onely here regarde, their belly and their gaine, And neuer troubled are with care of any soule in paine. Their seruice thus in ordering, and payde for masse and all, They to the tauerne streightways go, or to the parsons hall, Where all the day they drinke and play, and pots about do walk, &c.
OLD HOB.
T. A. communicates that there is a custom very common in Cheshire called Old Hob: it consists of a man carrying a dead horse’s head, covered with a sheet, to frighten people. This frolic is usual between All Soul’s day and Christmas.
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 47·37.
[407] See vol. i. col. 1423.
~November 3.~
THE BECKFORD FAMILY.
On the 3d of November, 1735, Peter Beckford, Esq. died in Jamaica, worth three hundred thousand pounds.[408] His direct male ancestor, served in a humble capacity in the armament under Penn and Venables, which captured that important island. Mr. Peter Beckford was father of the celebrated alderman Beckford, whose fortune enabled him to purchase the landed estate of the Meroyns in Wiltshire, which, till lately, formed a distinguished part of the possessions of the present Mr. Beckford.
* * * * *
A correspondent communicates a pleasant account of a wake in Wiltshire, during the present month.
CLACK FALL FAIR.
“See, neighbours, what Joe Ody’s doing.”
The township of Clack stands on an eminence which gives a view of twenty miles round a part of the most beautiful county of Wilts.[409] Clack is attached to Bradenstoke-priory, remarkable for its forest, and the reception of the monks of St. Augustine. Many vestiges remain of the splendour of this abbey, which is now a large farm, and stone coffins have been found here. A carpenter in this neighbourhood recently digging a hole for the post to a gate, struck his spade against a substance which proved to be gold, and weighed two ounces: it was the image of a monk in the posture of prayer, with a a book open before him. A subterraneous passage once led from this place to Malmsbury-abbey, a distance of seven miles. At this ruin, when a boy, I was shown the stone upon which the blood is said to have been spilt by a school-master, who, in a passion, killed his pupil with a penknife.
Clack spring and fall Fairs were well attended formerly. They were held for horses, pigs, cows, oxen, sheep, and shows; but especially for the “hiring servants.” Hamlet’s words,--“Oh, what a _fall_ing off is here!” may not inappropriately be applied. Old Michaelmas-day is the time the fall fair is kept, but, really, every thing which constitutes a fair, seemed this year to be absent. A few farmers strolled up and down the main street in their boots, and took refuge in the hospitable houses; a few rustics waited about the “Mop” or “Statue” in their clean frocks twisted round their waists with their best clothes on; a few sellers of cattle looked round for customers, with the pike tickets in their hats; and a few maid servants placed themselves in a corner to be hired: here, there was no want of Clack, for many were raised in stature by their pattens and rather towering bonnets; and a few agriculturists’ daughters and dames, in whom neither scarcity of money nor apparel were visible, came prancing into the courts of their friends and alighting at the uppingstocks, and dashed in among the company with true spirit and bon hommie.
Clack fair was worth gazing at a few years ago. When Joe Ody,[410] the stultum ingenium, obtained leave to show forth in the Blindhouse by conjuring rings off women’s fingers, and finding them in men’s pockets, eating fire and drawing yards of ribands out of his mouth, giving shuffling tricks with cards, to ascertain how much money was in the ploughman’s yellow purse, cutting off cock’s heads, pricking in the garter for love tokens, giving a chance at the “black cock or the white cock,” and lastly, raising the devil, who carries off the cheating parish baker upon his back. These, indeed, were fine opportunities for old women to talk about, when leaning over the hatch of the front door, to gossip with their ready neighbours in the same position opposite, while their goodmen of the house, sat in the porch chuckling with “pipe in one hand and jug in the other.” Then the “learned dog” told person’s names by letters; and here I discovered the secret of this canine sapiency, the master twitched his thumb and finger for the letter at which the dog stopped. I posed, master and dog, however, by giving my christian name “Jehoiada.” A word no fair scholar could readily spell; this shook the faith of many gaping disciples. The “poney” too was greatly admired for telling which lassie loved her morning bed, which would be first married, and which youth excelled in kissing a girl in a sly corner. The being “ground young again,” no less enlivened the spirits of maiden aunts, and the seven tall single sisters; then the pelican put its beak on the child’s head for a night cap, and the monkeys and bears looked, grimaced and danced, to the three dogs in red jackets, with short pipes in their mouths; and the “climbing cat” ascended the “maypole,” and returned into its master’s box at a word. This year’s attractions chiefly were three booths for gingerbread and hard ware--a raree show! a blind fidler--the E. O. table--the birds, rats, and kittens in one cage--and a song sung here and there, called the “Bulleyed Farmers,” attributed to Bowles of Bremhill, but who disclaimed like Coleridge, the authorship of a satiric production.
Thus, fairs, amusements and the works of mortals, pass away--one age dies, another comes in its stead--but who will secure the sports of ancestry inviolate? who search into the workings of the illiterate, and hand them down to posterity, without the uncertain communication of oral tradition, which often obscures the light intended to be conveyed for information.--Thanks be to the art of printing, to the cultivation of reading, and the desire which accompanies both.
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 44·40.
[408] Gentleman’s Magazine.
[409] There is a very old stanza known here, which though it gives no favourable mention of Clack, couples many surrounding places well known--
“White Cliff--Pepper Cliff--Cliff and Cliff Ancey, Lyneham and lo--e Clack, C--se Malford[411] and Dauncey.”
[410] A native of this part, and at the top of Merry-Andrewism.
[411] Christian Malford, no doubt, was a bad ford for the monks that came down the Avon to the surrounding abbeys.
~November 4.~
KING WILLIAM LANDED.
On the day appointed for the commemoration of the landing of king William III. (who in fact landed on the 5th[412]) it may be worth notice, that its centenary in 1788 is thus mentioned in the “Public Advertiser” of that year--“This day is appointed to commemorate an event, which, if deserving commemoration, ought never to be forgotten, and yet it is probable it will produce as much good moral or political effect as the events which distinguish Christmas, Good Friday, or Easter, from other days of the year. However, we are not disposed to quarrel with the scheme, the events of a day are few, the remembrance cannot be long. In the City, in Westminster, and in many of the principal towns in England, societies have been formed, cards of invitation sent, sold and bought, and grand dinners are prepared, and have this day been devoured with keen revolution appetites. Not to exclude the females, in some places balls are given; and that the religious may not wholly be disappointed, revolution sermons were this morning preached in several chapels and meeting-houses. Scotland is not behind hand in zeal upon this occasion, although a little so in point of time. To-morrow is their day of commemoration. Over all the kingdom a day of thanksgiving is appointed.”
KING WILLIAM’S PEERS.
For the Every-Day Book.
The essential services of king William III. to the cause of civil and religious liberty, his perseverance and prowess as a warrior, his shrewdness and dexterity as a statesman, adapting the most conciliatory means to the most patriotic ends, have been repeatedly dilated on, and generally acknowledged. Here, is merely purposed to be traced how he exercised one of the most exclusive, important, and durable prerogatives of an English monarch, by a brief recapitulation of such of his additions and promotions in the hereditory branch of our legislature as still are in existence.
The ancestor of the duke of Portland was count Bentinck, a Dutchman, of a family still of note in Holland; he had been page of honour to king William, when he was only prince of Orange. He made him groom of the stole, privy purse, a lieutenant-general in the British army, colonel of a regiment of Dutch horse in the British pay, one of the privy-council, master of the horse, baron of Cirencester, viscount Woodstock, and earl of Portland, and afterwards ambassador extraordinary to the court of France. His son was made duke of Portland, and governor of Jamaica, by George I.
William Henry Nassau, commonly called seigneur, or lord of Zuletstein in Holland, was another follower of the fortunes of king William; he was related to his majesty, his father having been a natural son of the king’s grandfather. He was in the year 1695 created baron of Enfield, viscount Tunbridge, and earl of Rochfort.
Arnold Joost Van Keppel, another of Williams’s followers, was the second son of Bernard Van Pallant, lord of the manor of Keppel in Holland, a particular favourite of his majesty, who, soon after his accession to the throne, created him baron of Ashford, viscount Bury, and earl of Albemarle.
Earl Cowper is indebted for his barony of Wingham to queen Anne, and for his further titles of viscount Fordwich, and earl Cowper, to George I.; but he derives no inconsiderable portion of his wealth from his ancestress in the female line, lady Henrietta, daughter and heiress of the earl of Grantham, descended from monsieur d’Auverquerque, who was by that prince raised to the dignity of an English earl, by the title of Grantham, being representative of an illegitimate son of the celebrated shadthalder, prince Maurice.
The heroic marshal Schomberg, who fell in the memorable battle of the Boyne when upwards of eighty years of age, had previously been created by king William, a duke both in England and Ireland. His titles are extinct, but his heir general is the present duke of Leeds, who is at the same time heir male to the celebrated earl of Danby, who cuts so conspicuous a figure in the annals of Charles II., and was by William III. advanced to a dukedom.
The dukedom of Bolton was conferred by William on the marquis of Winchester, whose ancestors had for a century stood enrolled as premier marquisses of England.
Long before they were advanced by William III. to dukedoms, the houses of Russell and Cavendish had been noted as two of the most historical families in the English peerage. Their earldoms were respective creations of Edward VI. and James I. The individual of each house first ennobled, died possessed of the bulk of the extensive landed possessions, and strong parliamentary influence with which his representative is at the present moment invested.
The character and military achievements of John Churchill stand so preeminent in the history of Europe, that it need here only be remarked that from a baron, king William conferred on him the earldom of Marlborough, again advanced by queen Anne to a dukedom, carried on by act of parliament, after his victory of Blenheim, to the issue male of his daughters, and now vested in the noble family of Spencer, earl of Sunderland.
Lord Lumley, advanced to the earldom of Scarborough, was one of the memorable seven who signed the original letter of invitation to the prince of Orange.
Lord Coventry, descended from a lord keeper of the great seal to Charles I., was promoted by William III. to an earldom.
Sir Edward Villiers, a courtier, of the same family as the celebrated duke of Buckingham, received the earldom of Jersey.
The families of Cholmondeley, Fermor, and Ashburnham, were each raised by William III. to the dignity of English barons. They were each of considerable antiquity and extensive possessions. Each was, moreover, peculiarly distinguished for devoted attachment to the cause of Charles I., even when it stood in the extremest jeopardy.
These baronies are now vested respectively in the marquis of Cholmondeley, and the earls of Pomfret and Ashburnham.
The possessions, the influence, the connections of the male representative of the able, the restless, the unfortunate sir Harry Vane, were still of weightier calibre. He received from king William the barony of Barnard, now vested in the earl of Darlington.
P.
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 43·27.
[412] See vol. i. col. 1428.
~November 5.~
POWDER PLOT.
To keep alive the remembrance of this conspiracy, and in contemplation of its anniversary in 1826, a printed quarter sheet was published, “price one penny coloured, and one halfpenny plain.” It consists of a rude wood-cut of “a Guy,” carried about by boys, and the subjoined title with the accompanying verses.
* * * * *
QUICK’S NEW SPEECH FOR THE FIFTH OF NOVEMBER,
On the Downfall of Guy Fawkes.
Good gentlefolks, pray, Remember this day, To which your kind notice we bring Here’s the figure of sly Old villainous Guy, Who wanted to murder the king: With powder a store, He bitterly swore, As he skulk’d in the vault to prepare, How the parliament too, By him and his crew, Should all be blown up in the air. So please to remember the fifth of November, Gunpowder treason and plot; We know no reason why gunpowder treason Should ever be forgot.
But James all so wise, Did the papists surprise, Who plotted the cruelty great; He guessed their intent, And Suffolk was sent, Who sav’d both the kingdom and state. With a lantern was found, Guy Fawkes under ground, And quick was the traitor bound fast: They said he should die, So hung him up high, And burnt him to ashes at last. So please to remember, &c.
So we once a year, Go round without fear, To keep in remembrance the day: With assistance from you, To bring to your view, Guy Fawkes again blazing away: While with crackers and fire, In fullest desire, In his chair he thus merrily burns, So jolly we’ll be, And shout--may you see, Of this day many happy returns. So please to remember, &c.
Then hollo boys! hollo boys! shout and huzza, Hollo boys! hollo boys! keep up the day, Hollo boys! hollo boys! let the bells ring, Down with the pope, and God save the king. Huzza! Huzza! Huzza!
* * * * *
There was a publication in 1825, of similar character to the preceding. “Guy” was the subject of the cut, and the topic of the verses was a prayer for--
---------“a halfpenny to buy a faggot, And another to buy a match, And another to buy some touch paper, That the powder soon may catch.”
It contained the general averment--
“We know no reason, Why gunpowder treason Should ever be forgot.”
* * * * *
Though it is not requisite to relate more particulars of the “gunpowder treason” than have been already mentioned,[413] yet a friendly finger points to a passage in an old writer, concerning one of the conspirators, which is at least amusing:--“Some days before the fatal stroke should be given, Master Keys, being at Tichmersh, in Northamptonshire, at the house of Mr. Gilbert Pickering, his brother-in-law, (but of a different religion, as a true protestant,) suddenly whipped out his sword, and in merriment made many offers therewith at the heads, necks, and sides of many gentlemen and gentlewomen then in his company. This, then, was taken as a mere frolic, and for the present passed accordingly; but afterwards, when the treason was discovered, such as remembered his gestures, thought thereby he did act what he intended to do, (if the plot had took effect,) hack and hew, kill and slay, all eminent persons of a different religion to themselves.”[414]
* * * * *
A modern writer observes:--“It is not, perhaps, generally known, that we have a form of prayer for prisoners, which is printed in the ‘Irish Common Prayer-book,’ though not in ours. Mrs. Berkeley, in whose Preface of Prefaces to her son’s poems I first saw this mentioned, regrets the omission, observing, that the very fine prayer for those under sentence of death might, being read by the children of the poor, at least keep them from the gallows. The remark is just. If there be not room in our prayer-book, we have some services there which might better be dispensed with. It was not very decent in the late abolition of holydays, to let the two Charleses hold their place, when the Virgin Mary and the saints were deprived of the red letter privileges. If we are to have any state service, it ought to be for the expulsion of the Stuarts. There is no other part of their history which England ought to remember with sorrow and shame. Guy Faux also might now be dismissed, though the Eye of Providence would be a real loss. The Roman catholics know the effect of such prints as these, and there can be no good reason for not imitating them in this instance. I would have no prayer-book published without that eye of Providence in it.”[415]
PURTON BONFIRE.
To the Editor of the Every-Day Book.
Dear Sir,--At almost every village in England, the fifth of November is regarded in a very especial manner. Some pay greater attention to it than others, but I believe it is invariably noticed by all.
I have been present at Old Purton bonfire, and perhaps the following short notice of it may not be uninteresting.
I before stated (col. 1207) that the green, or close, at Purton, is the spot allotted for amusements in general. This is also the place for the ceremonies on this highly important day, which I am about to describe.
Several weeks before, the boys of the village go to every house begging faggots; and if they are refused they all answer together--
If you don’t give us one We’ll take two, The better for us, sir, And worse for you.
They were once refused by a farmer, (who was very much disliked by the poor for his severity and unkindness,) and accordingly they determined to make him repent. He kept a sharp look out over his faggot pile, but forgot that something else might be stolen. The boys got into his backyard and extracted a new pump, which had not been properly fixed, and bore it off in triumph to the green, where it was burnt amidst the loud acclamations of the young rogues generally.
All the wood, &c. which has been previously collected, is brought into the middle of the close where the effigy of poor Guy is burnt. A figure is made (similar to one of those carried about London streets,) intending to represent the conspirator, and placed at the top of a high pole, with the fuel all around. Previous to lighting it, poor Guy is shot at by all who have the happiness to possess guns for the purpose, and pelted with squibs, crackers, &c. This fun continues about an hour, and then the pile is lighted, the place echoes with huzzas, guns keep up perpetual reports, fireworks are flying in all directions, and the village bells merrily ring. The fire is kept up a considerable time, and it is a usual custom for a large piece of “real Wiltshire bacon” to be dressed by it, which is taken to the public-house, together with potatoes roasted in the ashes of the bonfire, and a jovial repast is made. As the fire decreases, successive quantities of potatoes are dressed in the embers by the rustics, who seem to regard them as the great delicacies of the night.
There is no restraint put on the loyal zeal of these good folks, and the fire is maintained to a late hour. I remember, on one occasion, hearing the guns firing as I lay in bed between two and three o’clock in the morning. The public-house is kept open nearly all night. Ale flows plentifully, and it is not spared by the revellers. They have a noisy chorus, which is intended as a toast to his majesty; it runs thus:--
My brave lads remember The fifth of November, Gunpowder treason and plot, We will drink, smoke, and sing, boys, And our bells they shall ring, boys, And here’s health to our king, boys, For he shall not be forgot.
Their merriment continues till morning, when they generally retire to rest very much inebriated, or, as they term it, “merry,” or “top heavy.”
I hope to have the pleasure of reading other communications in your interesting work on this good old English custom; and beg to remain,
Dear Sir, &c.
C. T.
October 20, 1826.
* * * * *
If the collections formerly published as “State Poems” were to receive additions, the following from a journal of 1796, might be included as frolicsome and curious.
SONG ON THE FIFTH OF NOVEMBER.
Some twelvemonths ago, A hundred or so, The pope went to visit the devil, And if you’ll attend, You’ll find, to a friend, Old Nick can behave very civil.
How do’st do, quoth the seer, What a plague brought you here; I suppose ’twas some whimsical maggot-- Come draw tow’rds the fire, I pr’thee sit nigher; Here, sirrah, lay on t’other faggot.
You’re welcome to hell, I hope friends are well, At Paris, Madrid, and at Rome; But, since you elope, I suppose, honest pope, The conclave will hang out the broom.
All jesting aside, His Holiness cried, Give the pope and the devil their dues; Believe me, old dad, I’ll make thy heart glad For faith I have brought thee rare news.
There’s a plot to beguile An obstinate isle, Great Britain, that heretic nation, Who so slyly behav’d In hopes to be sav’d By the help of a curs’d reformation.
We shall never have done If we burn one by one, Nor destroy the whole heretic race; For when one is dead, Like the fam’d hydra’s head, Another springs up in his place.
Believe me, Old Nick, We’ll show them a trick, A trick that shall serve for the nonce, For this day before dinner, Or else I’m a sinner, We’ll kill all their leaders at once.
When the parliament sits And all try their wits In consulting of old mealy papers, We’ll give them a greeting Shall break up their meeting And set them all cutting their capers.
There’s powder enough And combustible stuff In thirty and odd trusty barrels; We’ll send them together The Lord can tell whither, And decide at one blow all their quarrels.
When the king and his son And the parliament’s gone, And the people are left in the lurch, Things will take their old station In yon cursed nation And I’ll be the head of the church.
These words were scarce said, When in popt the head Of an old jesuistical wight Who cried you’re mistaken They’ve all sav’d their bacon, And Jemmy still stinks of the fright.
Then Satan was struck, And cried ’tis ill luck, But you for your news shall be thanked, So he call’d at the door Six devils or more And toss’d the poor priest in a blanket.
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 42·32.
[413] In vol. i. col. 1433.
[414] Fuller’s Church History.
[415] Dr. Aikin’s Athenæum.
~November 6.~
Michaelmas Term begins.
LEONARD.
St. Leonard is retained in the church of England calendar and almanacs, from his ancient popularity in Romish times. He is the titular saint of many of our great churches, and was particularly invoked in behalf of prisoners.
A list of holydays published at Worcester, in 1240, ordains St. Leonard’s festival to be kept a half-holyday, enjoins the hearing of mass, and prohibits all labour except that of the plough.
St. Leonard was a French nobleman in the court of Clovis I., where he was converted by St. Remigius, or Remy; became a monk, built an oratory for himself in a forest at Nobilac, near Limoges, lived on herbs and fruits, and formed a community, which after his death was a flourishing monastery under the name of St. Leonard le Noblat. He was remarkable for charity towards captives and prisoners, and died about 559, with the reputation of having worked miracles in their behalf.[416]
The legend of St. Leonard relates that there was no water within a mile of his monastery, “wherfore he did do make a pyt all drye, the which he fylled with water by his prayers--and he shone there by so grete myracles, that who that was in prison, and called his name in ayde, anone his bondes and fetters were broken, and went awaye without ony gaynsayenge frely, and came presentyng to hym theyr chaynes or yrens.”
It is particularly related that one of St. Leonard’s converts “was taken of a tyraunt,” which tyrant, considering by whom his prisoner was protected, determined so to secure him against Leonard, as to “make hym paye for his raunsom a thousand shyllynges.” Therefore, said the tyrant, “I shall go make a ryght grete and depe pyt vnder the erth in my toure, and I shall cast hym therin bounden with many bondes; and I shal do make a chest of tree vpon the mouth of the pyt, and shall make my knyghtes to lye therin all armed; and how be it that yf Leonarde breke the yrons, yet shall he not entre into it vnder the erth.” Having done as he said, the prisoner called on St. Leonard, who at night “came and turned the chest wherein the knyghtes laye armed, and closed them therein, lyke as deed men ben in a tombe, and after entred into the pyt with grete lyght,” and he spoke to the prisoner, from whom the chains fell off, and he “toke hym in his armes and bare hym out of the toure--and sette hym at home in his hous.” And other great marvels are told of St. Leonard as true as this.[417]
* * * * *
The miracles wrought by St. Leonard in releasing prisoners continued after his death, but at this time the saint has ceased from interposing in their behalf even on his festival; which, being the first day of Michaelmas term, and therefore the day whereon writs issued since the Trinity term are made returnable, would be a convenient season for the saint’s interposition.
This day the long vacation o’er, And lawyers go to work once more; With their materials all provided, That they may have the cause decided. The plaintiff he brings in his bill, He’ll have his cause, cost what it will; Till afterwards comes the defendant, And is resolved to make an end on’t. And having got all things in fitness, Supplied with money and with witness; And makes a noble bold defence, Backed with material evidence. The proverb is, one cause is good Until the other’s understood. They thunder out to little purpose, With certiorari, habeas corpus, Their replicandos, writs of error, To fill the people’s hearts with terror; And if the lawyer do approve it, To chancery they must remove it: And then the two that were so warm, Must leave it to another term; Till they go home and work for more, To spend as they have done before.
Poor Robin.
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 43·40.
[416] Alban Butler.
[417] Golden Legend.
~November 7.~
ORIGIN OF THE LONDON GAZETTE.
On the 7th day of November, 1665, the first “Gazette” in England was published at Oxford; the court being there at that time, on account of the plague. On the removal of the court to London, the title was changed to the “London Gazette.” The “Oxford Gazette” was published on Tuesdays, the London on Saturdays: and these have continued, to be the days of publication ever since.
The word gazette originally meant a newspaper, or printed account of the transactions of all the countries in the known world, in a loose sheet or half sheet; but the term is with us confined to that paper of news now published by authority. It derived its name from gazetta, a kind of small coin formerly current at Venice, which was the usual price of the first newspaper printed there.[418]
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 42·92.
[418] Butler’s Chronological Exercises.
~November 8.~
LORD MAYOR OF LONDON.
On this day the chief magistrate elect of the metropolis is sworn into office at Guildhall, and to-morrow is the grand festival of the corporation.
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 44·27.
~November 9.~
LORD MAYOR’S DAY.
This “great day in the calendar” of the city, is the subject of the following whimsical adaptation.
Now countless turbots and unnumbered soles Fill the wide kitchens of each livery hall: From pot to spit, to kettle, stew, and pan, The busy hum of greasy scullions sounds, That the fixed beadles do almost perceive The secret dainties of each other’s watch: Fire answers fire, and through their paly flames Each table sees the other’s bill of fare: Cook threatens cook in high and saucy vaunt Of rare and newmade dishes; confectioners, Both pastrycooks and fruiterers in league, With candied art their rivets closing up, Give pleasing notice of a rich dessert.
* * * * *
In the subjoined humorous account of a former civic procession and festival, there are some features which do not belong to the present celebrations.
LORD MAYOR’S DAY, 1773.
To describe the adventures and incidents of this important day in the city annals, it is very necessary to revert to the preceding evening. It is not now as it was formerly--
“That sober citizens get drunk by nine.”
Had Pope lived in the auspicious reign of George III., he would have indulged us at least two hours, and found a rhyme for eleven.
On the evening of the 8th of November, the stands of several livery companies clogged the passage of Cheapside and the adjacent streets. The night was passed in erecting the temporary sheds, sacred to city mirth, ruby gills, and round paunches. The earliest dawn of the morning witnessed the industry of the scavengers; and the broom-maker was, for once, the first patriot in the city.
This service done, repair we to Guildhall.
At five in the morning the spits groaned beneath the ponderous sirloins. These, numerous as large, proved that the “roast beef of Old England” is still thouht an ornament to our tables. The chandeliers in the hall were twelve in number, each provided with forty-eight wax candles; exclusive of which there were three large glass lamps, two globular lamps under the giants, and wax candles in girandoles. Hustings were raised at each end of the hall for the accommodation of the superior company, and tables laid through the centre for persons of lower rank. One advantage arose from the elevation at the west end of the hall, for the inscription under Beckford’s statue was thereby rendered perfectly legible. Tables were spread in the court of king’s-bench, which was provided with one chandelier of forty-eight candles. All the seats were either matted, hung with tapestry, or covered with crimson cloth, and the whole made a very noble appearance.
By eleven o’clock the windows from Blackfriars-bridge, to the north end of King street, began to exhibit such a number of angelic faces, as would tempt a man to wish for the honour of chief magistracy, if it were only to be looked at by so many fine eyes. There was scarce a house that could not boast a Venus for its tenant. At fifteen minutes past ten the common serjeant entered Guildhall, and in a few minutes the new lord-mayor, preceded by four footmen in elegant liveries of brown and gold, was brought into the hall in a superb sedan chair. Next came alderman Plomer, and then the recorder, who was so much afflicted with the gout, that it required the full exertion of his servant’s strength to support him. Mr. Alderman Thomas arrived soon after, then the two sheriffs, and lastly Mr. Crosby. There being no other alderman, Mr. Peckham could not be sworn into his office. At twenty minutes past eleven the lord mayor left the hall, being preceded by the city sword and mace, and followed by the alderman and sheriffs. The breakfast in the council chamber, at Guildhall, consisted of six sirloins of beef, twelve tureens of soup, mulled wines, pastry, &c. The late lord-mayor waited at the end of King-street to join the procession. As soon as his carriage moved, the mob began to groan and hiss, on which he burst into so immoderate a fit of laughter, evidently unforced, that the mob joined in one laughing chorus, and seemed to wonder what they had hissed at.
The procession by water was as usual, but rather tedious, as the tide was contrary. The ceremonies at Westminster-hall being gone through in the customary manner, the company returned by water to Blackfriars-bridge, where the lord-mayor landed at about three o’clock, and proceeded in solemn state to Guildhall, where the tables groaned beneath the weight of solids and dainties of every kind in season: the dishes of pastry, &c. were elegantly adorned with flowers of various sorts interspersed with bay-leaves; and many an honest freeman got a nose-gay at the city expense. A superb piece of confectionary was placed on the lord-mayor’s table, and the whole entertainment was splendid and magnificent. During the absence of the lord-mayor, such of the city companies as have not barges paraded the streets in the accustomed manner; and the man in armour exhibited to the delight of the little masters and misses, and the astonishment of many a gaping rustic. The lord-mayor appeared to be in good health and spirits, and to enjoy the applausive shouts of his fellow-citizens, probably from a consciousness of having deserved them. Mr. Gates, the city marshal, was as fine as powder and ribbons and gold could make him; his horse, too, was almost as fine, and nearly as stately as the rider. Mr. Wilkes came through the city in a chair, carried on men’s shoulders, just before the procession, in order to keep it up, and be saluted with repeated shouts. The lord-mayor’s coach was elegant, and his horses (long-tailed blacks) the finest that have been seen for many years. There were a great number of constables round Mr. Alderman Townsend’s coach; and a complaint has since been made, that he was grossly insulted. The night concluded as usual, and many went home at morning with dirty clothes and bloody faces.[419]
* * * * *
Some recent processions on lord-mayor’s day are sufficiently described by these lines:--
Scarce the shrill trumpet or the echoing horn With zeal impatient chides the tardy morn, When Thames, meandering as thy channel strays, Its ambient wave Augusta’s Lord surveys: No prouder triumph, when with eastern pride The burnished galley burst upon the tide, Thy banks of Cydnus say--tho’ Egypt’s queen With soft allurements graced the glowing scene, Though silken streamers waved and all was mute, Save the soft trillings of the mellow lute; Though spicy torches chased the lingering gloom, And zephyrs blew in every gale perfume.
But soon, as pleased they win their wat’ry way, And dash from bending oars the scattered spray, The dome wide-spreading greets th’ exploring eyes, Where erst proud Rufus bade his courts arise. Here borne, our civic chief the brazen store, With pointing fingers numbers o’er and o’er; Then pleased around him greets his jocund train, And seeks in proud array his new domain. Returning now, the ponderous coach of state Rolls o’er the road that groans beneath its weight; And as slow paced, amid the shouting throng, Its massive frame majestic moves along, The prancing steeds with gilded trappings gay, Proud of the load, their sceptred lord convey.
Behind, their posts, a troop attendant gain, Press the gay throng, and join the smiling train; While martial bands with nodding plumes appear, And waving streamers close the gay career.
Here too a Chief the opening ranks display, Whose radient armour shoots a beamy ray; So Britain erst beheld her troops advance, And prostrate myriads crouch beneath her lance: But though no more when threatening dangers nigh, The glittering cuisses clasp the warrior’s thigh; Aloft no more the nodding plumage bows, Or polished helm bedecks his manly brows; A patriot band still generous Britain boasts, To guard her altars and protect her coasts; From rude attacks her sacred name to shield, And now, as ever, teach her foe to yield.
* * * * *
Mr. Alderman Wood on the first day of his second mayoralty, in 1816, deviated from the usual procession by water, from Westminster-hall to London, and returned attended by the corporation, in their carriages, through Parliament-street, by the way of Charing-cross, along the Strand, Fleet-street, and so up Ludgate-hill, and through St. Paul’s churchyard, to Guildhall: whereon lord Sidmouth, as high steward of the city and liberties of Westminster, officially protested against the lord-mayor’s deviation, “in order, that the same course may not be drawn into precedent, and adopted on any future occasion.”
* * * * *
During Mr. Alderman Wood’s first mayoralty he committed to the house of correction, a working sugar-baker, for having left his employment in consequence of a dispute respecting wages.--The prisoner during his confinement not having received personal correction, according to the statute, in consequence of no order to that effect being specified in the warrant of committal, he actually brought an action against the lord-mayor in the court of common pleas, for nonconformity to the law. It was proved that he had not been whipped, and therefore the jury were obliged to give a farthing damages; but the point of law was reserved.[420]
* * * * *
On the 6th of September, 1776, the then lord-mayor of London, was robbed near Turnham-green in his chaise and four, in sight of all his retinue, by a single highwayman, who swore he would shoot the first man that made resistance, or offered violence.[421]
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 44·72.
[419] Gentleman’s Magazine.
[420] Ibid.
[421] Ibid.
~November 10.~
A FATHER’S WISHES.
Richard Corbet, bishop of Norwich, wrote the following excellent lines
TO HIS SON, VINCENT CORBET,
On his Birth-day, November 10, 1630, being then three years old.
What I shall leave thee none can tell, But all shall say I wish thee well I wish thee, Vin, before all wealth Both bodily and ghostly health: Nor too much wealth, nor wit, come to thee, So much of either may undo thee. I wish thee learning, not for show, Enough for to instruct, and know; Not such as gentlemen require, To prate at table, or at fire. I wish thee all thy mother’s graces, Thy fathers fortunes, and his places. I wish thee friends, and one at court, Not to build on, but support; To keep thee, not in doing many Oppressions, but from suffering any. I wish thee peace in all thy ways, Nor lazy nor contentious days; And when thy soul and body part, As innocent as now thou art.[422]
* * * * *
Bishop Corbet, a native of Ewell in Surrey, was educated at Westminster school, and Christchurch, Oxford; took the degree of M. A. in 1605, entered into holy orders, became doctor of divinity, obtained a prebend in the cathedral of Sarum, and other church preferment, and being a man of ready wit, was favoured by king James I., who made him one of his chaplains. In 1618, he took a journey to France, of which he wrote an amusing narrative. In 1627, his majesty gave him the deanery of Christchurch; in 1629, he was raised to the bishopric of Oxford, and in 1632, translated to that of Norwich. He died in 1635. The poems of bishop Corbet are lively and amusing compositions, such as might have been expected from a man of learning and genius, possessed of a superabundance of constitutional hilarity. The latter quality appears to have drawn him into some excesses, not altogether consistent with the gravity of his profession. After he was a doctor of divinity, being at a tavern in Abingdon, a ballad-singer came into the house, complaining that he could not dispose of his stock; the doctor, in a frolic, took off his gown, and assuming the ballad-singer’s leather jacket, went out into the street, and drew around him a crowd of admiring purchasers. Perhaps he thought he could divest himself of his sacerdotal character with his habit; for it seems he shut himself up in his well-stored cellar, with his chaplain, Dr. Lushington, and taking off his gown, exclaimed: “There goes the doctor;” then throwing down his episcopal hood, “there goes the bishop”--after which the night was devoted to Bacchus. Riding out one day with a Dr. Stubbins, who was extremely fat, the coach was overturned, and both fell into a ditch. The bishop, in giving an account of the accident, observed, that Dr. Stubbins was up to the elbows in mud, and he was up to the elbows in Stubbins. Bishop Corbet was not distinguished as a divine; his sentiments however were liberal, and he inclined to the Arminian party, which then began to prevail in the church of England.[423]
In the bishop’s lines “to his son on his birth-day,” there is something of the feeling in the wise man’s supplication, “Give me neither poverty nor riches.”
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 43·72.
[422] Bp. Corbet’s Poems, by Gilchrist.
[423] General Biographical Dictionary, 1826, vol. i.
~November 11.~
ST. MARTIN.
The customs of this festival, which is retained in the church of England calendar and almanacs, are related under the day in last year’s volume.
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 44·40.
~November 12.~
ADMIRAL VERNON’S BIRTH-DAY.
To the mention of the pageant “at Chancery-lane end,” in honour of admiral Vernon on this day, in the year 1740,[424] may be added some ingenious verses commemorative of Vernon’s exploits. They were written in the same year by John Price, a land-waiter in the port of Poole, and are preserved in Mr. Raw’s “Suffolk Garland,” with the following introduction:--
ADMIRAL VERNON’S ANSWER TO ADMIRAL HOSIER’S GHOST.
In Dr. Percy’s “Reliques of Ancient Poetry,” vol. ii. p. 376. is an admirable ballad, intituled “Hosier’s Ghost,” being an address to admiral Vernon, in Porto-Bello harbour, by Mr. Glover, the author of Leonidas. The case of Hosier was briefly this:--
In April, 1726, he was sent with a strong fleet to the Spanish West Indies, to block up the galleons in the ports of that country; but being restricted by his orders from obeying the dictates of his courage, he lay inactive on that station, until he became the jest of the Spaniards. He afterwards removed to Carthagena, and continued cruizing in those seas, till far the greater part of his crews perished by the diseases of that unhealthy climate. This brave man, seeing his officers and men thus daily swept away, his ships exposed to inevitable destruction, and himself made the sport of the enemy, is said to have died of a broken heart. The ballad concludes--
“O’er these waves, for ever mourning, Shall we roam, depriv’d of rest, If to Britain’s shores returning, You neglect my just request:
After this proud foe subduing, When your patriot friends you see, Think on vengeance for my ruin, And for England--sham’d in me.”
In 1739, vice-admiral Vernon was appointed commander-in-chief of a squadron then fitting out for destroying the settlements of the Spaniards in the West Indies; and, weighing anchor from Spithead on the 23d of July, arrived in sight of Porto-Bello, with six ships only, under his command, on the 20th of November following. The next day he commenced the attack of that town; when, after a most furious engagement on both sides, it was taken on the 22d, together with a considerable number of cannon, mortars, and ammunition, and also two Spanish ships of war. He then blew up the fortifications, and evacuated the place for want of land forces sufficient to retain it; but first distributed ten thousand dollars, which had been sent to Porto-Bello for paying the Spanish troops, among the forces for their bravery.
The two houses of parliament joined in an address of congratulation upon this success of his majesty’s arms; and the nation, in general, was wonderfully elated by an exploit, which was certainly magnified much above its intrinsic merit.
Hosier! with indignant sorrow, I have heard thy mournful tale And, if heav’n permit, to-morrow Hence our warlike fleet shall sail. O’er those hostile waves, wide roaming, We will urge our bold design, With the blood of thousands foaming, For our country’s wrongs and thine.
On that day, when each brave fellow, Who now triumphs here with me, Storm’d and plunder’d Porto-Bello, All my thoughts were full of thee. Thy disast’rous fate alarm’d me; Fierce thy image glar’d on high, And with gen’rous ardour warm’d me, To revenge thy fall, or die.
From their lofty ships descending, Thro’ the flood, in firm array, To the destin’d city bending, My lov’d sailors work’d their way. Strait the foe, with horror trembling, Quits in haste his batter’d walls; And in accents, undissembling, As he flies, for mercy calls.
Carthagena, tow’ring wonder! At the daring deed dismay’d, Shall ere long by Britain’s thunder, Smoking in the dust be laid. Thou, and these pale spectres sweeping, Restless, o’er this watry round, Whose wan cheeks are stain’d with weeping, Pleas’d shall listen to the sound.
Still rememb’ring thy sad story, To thy injur’d ghost I swear, By my hopes of future glory, War shall be my constant care: And I ne’er will cease pursuing Spain’s proud sons from sea to sea, With just vengeance for thy ruin, And for England sham’d in thee.
* * * * *
As we are to-day on a naval topic, it seems fitting to introduce a popular usage among sailors, in the words of captain Edward Hall, R. N., who communicated the particulars to Dr. Forster, on the 30th of October, 1823.
CROSSING THE LINE.
The following is an account of the custom of shaving at the tub by Neptune, as practised on board vessels crossing the Equator, Tropics, and Europa Point. The origin of it is supposed to be very ancient, and it is commonly followed on board foreign, as well as British ships. Europa Point at Gibraltar being one of the places, it may have arisen at the time when that was considered the western boundary of Terra Firma.
On the departure of a vessel from England by either of the aforesaid routes, much ingenuity is exerted by the old seamen and their confederates to discover the uninitiated, and it is seldom that any escape detection. A few days previous to arriving at the scene of action, much mystery and reserve is observed among the ship’s company: they are then secretly collecting stale soapsuds, water, &c., arranging the dramatis personæ, and preparing material. At this time, also, the novices, who are aware of what is going forward, send their forfeits to the captain of the forecastle, who acts as Neptune’s deputy; the forfeit is either a bottle of rum, or a dollar: and I never knew it refused, except from a cook’s mate who had acted negligently, and from a steward’s mate who was inclined to trick the people when serving provisions.
On board of a man-of-war it is generally performed on a grand scale. I have witnessed it several times, but the best executed was on board a ship of the line of which I was lieutenant, bound to the West Indies. On crossing the Tropic, a voice, as if at a distance, and from the surface of the water, cried “Ho, the ship ahoy! I shall come on board:” this was from a person slung over the bows, near the water, speaking through his hands. Presently two men of large stature came over the bows; they had hideous masks on: one personated Neptune--he was naked to his middle, crowned with the head of a huge wet swab, the ends of which reached to his loins to represent flowing locks; a piece of tarpaulin, vandyked, encircled the head of the swab and his brows as a diadem; his right hand wielded a boarding-pike manufactured into a trident, and his body was marked with red ochre to represent fish scales: the other personated Amphitrite, having locks also formed of swabs, a petticoat of the same material, with a girdle of red bunten; and in her hands a comb and looking-glass. They were followed by about twenty fellows, also naked to their middle, with red ochre scales as Tritons. They were received on the forecastle with much respect by the old sailors, who had provided the carriage of an eighteen-pounder as a car, which their majesties ascended, and were drawn aft along the gangway to the quarter-deck by the Tritons; when Neptune, addressing the captain, said he was happy to see him again that way, that he believed there were some Johnny Raws on board that had not paid their dues, and who he intended to initiate into the salt water mysteries. The captain answered, he was happy to see him, but requested he would make no more confusion than was necessary. They then descended on the main deck, and were joined by all the old hands, and about twenty barbers, who submitted their razors, brushes and suds to inspection; the first were made from old iron hoops jagged, the second from tar brushes, and the shaving suds from tar, grease, and something from the pigsty; they had also boxes of tropical pills procured from the sheep pen. Large tubs full of stale suds, with a movable board across each, were ranged around the pumps and engine, and plenty of buckets filled with water. Thus prepared, they divided themselves into gangs of a dozen each, dashed off in different directions, and soon returned with their subjects. The proceedings with each unlucky wight were as follows:--Being seated on a board across a tub of water, his eyes were quickly bandaged, his face lathered with the delightful composition; then a couple of scrapes on each side of the chin, followed by a question asked, or some pretended compassionate inquiry made, to get his mouth open, into which the barber either dashed the shaving-brush, or a pill, which was the signal for slipping the board from under the poor devil, who was then left to flounder his way out of the tub, and perhaps half drowned in attempting to recover his feet, by buckets of water being dashed over him from all quarters; being thus thoroughly drenched and initiated, I have often observed spirited fellows join their former persecutors in the remainder of their work. After an hour or two spent in this rough fun, which all seem to enjoy, Neptune disappears somewhere in the hold to unrobe, the decks are washed and dried, and those that have undergone the shaving business, oil or grease their chins and whiskers to get rid of the tar. This custom does not accord with the usual discipline of a man-of-war; but, as the old seamen look on it as their privilege, and it is only about an hour’s relaxation, I have never heard of any captain refusing them his permission.
E. H.[425]
* * * * *
A SEA-PIECE--IN THREE SONNETS
Scene--Bridlington Quay.
At night-fall, walking on the cliff-crowned shore, When sea and sky were in each other lost, Dark ships were scudding through the wild uproar, Whose wrecks ere morn must strew the dreary coast; I mark’d one well-moor’d vessel tempest-tost; Sails reef’d, helm lash’d, a dreadful siege she bore, Her decks by billow after billow cross’d, While every moment she might be no more, Yet firmly anchor’d on the nether sand, Like a chain’d lion ramping at his foes, Forward and rearward still she plunged and rose, ’Till broke her cable;--then she fled to land, With all the waves in chase; throes following throes; She ’scaped,--she struck,--she struck upon the sand.
The morn was beautiful, the storm gone by; Three days had pass’d; I saw the peaceful main, One molten mirror, one illumined plane, Clear as the blue, sublime, o’er-arching sky. On shore that lonely vessel caught mine eye; Her bow was sea-ward, all equipt her train, Yet to the sun she spread her wings in vain, Like a maim’d eagle, impotent to fly, There fix’d as if for ever to abide: Far down the beach had roll’d the low neap-tide, Whose mingling murmur faintly lull’d the ear, “Is this,” methought, “is this the doom of pride, Check’d in the outset of thy proud career, Ingloriously to rot by piecemeal here?”
Spring-tides return’d, and fortune smiled; the bay Received the rushing ocean to its breast; While waves on waves innumerable press, Seem’d, with the prancing of their proud array, Sea-horses, flash’d with foam, and sporting spray: Their power and thunder broke that vessel’s rest; Slowly, with new-expanding life possest, To her own element she glid away; There, buoyant, bounding like the polar whale, That takes his pastime, every joyful sail Was to the freedom of the world unfurl’d, While right and left the parting surges curl’d. --Go, gallant bark, with such a tide and gale, I’ll pledge thee to a voyage round the world!
Montgomery.
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 43·85.
[424] In vol. i. col. 1473.
[425] Perennial Calendar.
~November 13.~
Brit.[426]
THE “BRIDEWELL BOYS,” AND BARTHOLOMEW AND SOUTHWARK FAIRS.
On the 13th of November, 1755, at a court of the governors of Bridewell hospital, a memorable report was made from the committee, who inquired into the behaviour of the boys at Bartholomew and Southwark fairs, when some of them were severely corrected and continued, and others, after their punishment, were ordered to be stripped of the hospital clothing and discharged.[427]
The “bridewell-boys” were, within recollection, a body of youths distinguished by a particular dress, and turbulence of manners. They infested the streets to the terror of the peaceable, and being allowed the privilege of going to fires, did more mischief by their audacity and perverseness, than they did good by working the Bridewell engine. These disorders occasioned them to be deprived of their distinguishing costume, and put under proper arts’-masters, with ability to teach them useful trades, and authority to controul and regulate their conduct. The bridewell boys at this time are never heard of in any commotion, and may now, therefore, be regarded as peaceable and industrious lads.
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 42·85.
[426] See vol. i. col. 1473.
[427] Gentleman’s Magazine.
~November 14.~
A TRIFLING MISTAKE.
The “Carbonari,” a political association in the Italian states, occasioned considerable disturbance to the continental governments, who interfered to suppress an order of persons that kept them in continual alarm: “His Holiness” especially desired their suppression.
An article from Rome, dated the 14th of November, 1820, says “Bishop Benvenuti, vice-legate at Macerata, having received orders from the holy father to have all the Carbonari in that city arrested and sent to Rome, under a good escort, proceeded forthwith to execute the order. In consequence he had all the colliers by trade (Charbonniers de profession) which he could find within his reach--men, women, and children, arrested, and sent manacled to Rome, where they were closely imprisoned. The tribunal having at length proceeded to examine them, and being convinced that these Carbonari had been colliers ever since they were born, acquitted them, and sent them to their homes. Bishop Benvenuti was deprived of his employment.”[428]
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 43·25.
[428] New Times.
~November 15.~
Machutus.[429]
HUNGERFORD REVEL, WILTS.
To the Editor of the Every-Day Book.
October 20, 1826.
Dear Sir,--In your last week’s number of the Every-Day Book, your correspondent *, *, P. gives a short account of Blackford, the backsword-player, and also mentions one of his descendants who signalized himself at the “Hungerford revel” about two years since. In the year 1820, I visited the latter revel; perhaps a description may be acceptable to you, and amusing to your readers.
I think it may be generally allowed that Wiltshire, and the western counties, keep up their primitive customs more than any counties. This is greatly to the credit of the inhabitants; for these usages tend to promote cheerful intercourse and friendly feeling among the residents in the different villages, who on such occasions assemble together. In Wiltshire I have remarked various customs, particularly at Christmas, which I have never seen or heard of in any other place. If these customs were witnessed by a stranger, I am sure he must fancy the good old days of yore, where every season brought its particular custom, which was always strictly adhered to.
Wiltshire consists of beautiful and extensive downs, and rich meadow and pasture lands, which support some of the finest dairies and farms that can be met with in the kingdom. The natives are a very strong and hardy set of men, and are particularly fond of robust sports; their chief and favourite amusement is backswording, or singlestick, for which they are as greatly celebrated as the inhabitants of the adjoining counties, Somersetshire and Gloucestershire.
At this game there are several rules observed. They play with a large round stick, which must be three feet long, with a basket prefixed to one end as a guard for the hand. The combatants throw off their hats and upper garments, with the exception of the shirt, and have the left hand tied to the side, so that they cannot defend themselves with that hand. They brandish the stick over the head, guarding off the adversary’s blows, and striking him whenever an opportunity occurs. Great skill is often used in the defence. I have seen two men play for upwards of half an hour without once hitting each other. The blood must flow an inch from some part of the head, before either party is declared victor.
Blackford, the backsword player, was a butcher residing at Swindon; he died a few years ago. His “successor” is a blacksmith at Lyddington, named Morris Pope, who is considered the best player of the day, and generally carries off the prizes at the Hungerford revel, which he always attends. This revel is attended by all the best players in Wiltshire and Somersetshire, between whom the contest lies. To commence the fray, twenty very excellent players are selected from each county; the contest lasts a considerable time, and is always severe, but the Wiltshire men are generally conquerors. Their principal characteristics are skill, strength, and courage--this is generally allowed by all who are acquainted with them.
But Hungerford revel is not a scene of contention alone, it consists of all kinds of rustic sports, which afford capital fun to the spectators. They may be laid out thus--
1st. Girls running for “smocks,” &c., which is a well-known amusement at country fairs.
2d. Climbing the greasy pole for a piece of bacon which is placed on the top. This affords very great amusement, as it is a difficult thing to be accomplished. The climber, perhaps, may get near the top of the pole, and has it in his power to hold himself up by both hands, but the moment he raises one hand to unhook the prize, he is almost sure to slide down again with great rapidity, bearing all below him who are so foolish as to climb after him.
3d. Old women drinking hot tea for snuff. Whoever can drink it the quickest and hottest gains the prize.
4th. Grinning through horse-collars. Several Hodges stand in a row, each holding a collar; whoever can make the ugliest face through it gains the prize. This feat is also performed by old women, and certainly the latter are the most amusing.
5th. Racing between twenty and thirty old women for a pound of tea. This occasions much merriment, and it is sometimes astonishing to see with what agility the old dames run in order to obtain their favourite.
6th. Hunting a pig with a soaped tail. This amusement creates much mirth, and in my opinion is the most laughable.--Grunter with his tail well soaped is set off at the foot of a hill, and is quickly pursued; but the person who can lay any claim to him must first catch him by the tail, and fairly detain him with one hand. This is an almost impossible feat, for the pig finding himself pulled back, tries to run forward, and the tail slips from the grasp of the holder. It is pretty well known that such is the obstinate nature of a pig, that on being pulled one way he will strive all he can to go a contrary. In illustration of this circumstance, though known perhaps to some of your readers, I may mention a curious wager a few years ago between a pork butcher and a waterman. The butcher betted the waterman that he would make a pig run over one of the bridges, (I forget which,) quicker than the waterman would row across the river. The auditors thought it impossible; the bet was eagerly accepted, and the next day was appointed for the performance. When the signal for starting was given, the waterman began to row with all his might and main, and the butcher catching hold of the tail of the pig endeavoured to pull him back, upon which the pig pulled forward, and with great rapidity ran over the bridge, pulling the butcher after him, who arrived on the opposite side before his opponent.
7th. Jumping in sacks for a cheese. An excellent caricature of jumping in sacks, published by Hunt, in Tavistock-street, conveys a true idea of the manner in which this amusement is carried on: it is truly laughable. Ten or eleven candidates are chosen; they are tied in sacks up to their necks, and have to jump about five hundred yards. Sometimes one will out-jump himself and fall; this accident generally occasions the fall of three or four others, but some one, being more expert, gets on first, and claims the prize.
About ten years ago, before Cannon the prize-fighter was publicly known, as a native of Wiltshire he naturally visited the Hungerford revel. There was a man there celebrated over the county for boxing; it was said that with a blow from his fist he could break the jaw-bone of an ox; upon the whole he was a desperate fellow, and no one dared challenge him to fight. Cannon, however, challenged him to jump in sacks. It was agreed that they should jump three times the distance of about five hundred yards. The first time Cannon fell, and accordingly his opponent won; the second time, Cannon’s opponent fell, and the third time they kept a pretty even pace for about four hundred yards, when they bounced against each other and both fell, so that there was a dispute who had won. Cannon’s opponent was for dividing the cheese, but he would not submit to that, and proposed jumping again; the man would not, but got out of the sack, and during the time that Cannon was consulting some friends on the course to be pursued, ran off with the cheese. Cannon, however, pursued, and after a considerable time succeeded in finding him. He then challenged him to fight: the battle lasted two hours, and Cannon was victor. This circumstance introduced him to the sporting world.
You must allow me, dear sir, to assure you, that it is not my wish to make your interesting work a “sporting calendar,” by naming “sporting characters.” I tell you this lest you should not incline to read further, especially when you see.
8th. Donkey Racing. I will certainly defy any one to witness these races, without being almost convulsed with laughter. Each candidate rides his neighbour’s donkey, and he who arrives first at the appointed place claims the prize, which is generally a smock-frock, a waistcoat, a hat, &c. &c.
9th. Duck Hunting. This sport generally concludes the whole: it is a very laughable, but certainly a very cruel amusement. They tie a poor unfortunate owl in an upright position, to the back of a still more unfortunate duck, and then turn them loose. The owl presuming that his inconvenient captivity is the work of the duck, very unceremoniously commences an attack on the head of the latter, who naturally takes to its own means of defence, the water: the duck dives with the owl on his back; as soon as he rises, the astonished owl opens wide his eyes, turns about his head in a very solemn manner, and suddenly recommences his attack on the oppressed duck, who dives as before. The poor animals generally destroy each other, unless some humane person rescues them.
Like all other Wiltshire amusements, the Hungerford revel always closes with good humour and conviviality; the ale flowing plentifully, and the song echoing loud and gaily from the rustic revellers. Although the revel is meant to last only one day, the very numerous attendants keep up the minor sports sometimes to the fourth day, when all depart, and Hungerford is once more a scene of tranquility.
The revel takes place about this time of the year, but I really cannot call to my recollection the precise day. Hoping, however, that this is of no material consequence, I beg to remain,
Dear Sir, &c.
C. T.
EARL OF WARWICK, THE KING MAKER.
This nobleman, who at one time is said to have entertained thirty thousand people at the boards of his different manors and estates in England, and who, when he travelled or lodged in any town, was accompanied by four or five hundred retainers, wrote on All Souls’ day the following remarkable letter for the loan of a small sum. It is divested of its ancient spelling.
“To our right trusty and well-beloved Friend, Sir THOMAS TODDENHAM.
“Right trusty and well beloved friend, we greet you well, heartily desiring to hear of your welfare; and if it please you to hear of our welfare, we were in good health at the making of this letter, entreating you heartily, that ye will consider our message, which our chaplain Master Robert Hopton shall inform you of; for we have great business daily and have had here before this time, wherefore we entreat you to consider the purchase, that we have made with one John Swyffham (Southcote) an esquire of Lincolnshire, of 88_l._ by the year, whereupon we must pay the last payment, the Monday next after St. Martin’s day, which sum is 458_l._ Wherefore we entreat you with all our heart, that ye will lend us ten, or twenty pounds, or what the said Master Robert wants of his payment, as we may do for you in time for to come, and we will send it you again afore new year’s day, as we are a true knight. For there is none in your country, that we might write to for trust, so well as unto you, for as we be informed, ye be our well willer, and so we entreat you, that ye consider our intent of this money, as ye will that we do for you in time to come.... Written at London, on All Soul’s Day, within our lodging in the Grey Friars, within Newgate.
“RIC. ERLE WARWYKE.”
This letter is not dated, as to the year, but is known from circumstances to have been written before 1455. Sir Thomas Toddingham was a wealthy knight of Norfolk, who had an unfortunate marriage with one of the Wodehouses. The epistle shows the importance of ten, or twenty pounds, when rents were chiefly received in kind, and the difference between one degree of wealth and another, was exemplified by the number of a baron’s retainers. “Now,” says Burke, “we have a ton of ancient pomp in a vial of modern luxury.”[430]
“DEATH OF THE LOTTERY.”
Introductory to particulars respecting Lotteries, two engravings are inserted, representing exhibitions that appeared in the streets of the metropolis, with the intent to excite adventure in “the last state lottery that will ever be drawn in England.”
A BALLAD, 1826.
A lazy sot grew sober By looking at his troubles, For he found out how He work’d his woe, By playing with Lott’ry bubbles.
And just before October, The grand contractors, zealous To share their last ills, With puffs and bills, Drove all the quack-doctors jealous.
Their bill-and-cue-carts slowly Paced Holborn and Long Acre, Like a funeral Not mourn’d at all, The bury’ng an undertaker.
Clerks smiled, and whisper’d lowly: “This is the time or never There must be a rise-- Buy, and be wise, Or your chance is gone for ever.”
Yet, of the shares and tickets, Spite of all arts to sell ’em, There were more unsold Than dare be told; Although, if I knew, I’d tell ’em.
And so, worn out with rickets, The last “Last Lott’ry” expired; And then there were cries-- “We’ve gained a prize By the loss we’ve so long desired:
“The lott’ry drew the humble Often aside from his labour, To build in the air, And, dwelling there, He beggar’d himself and neighbour.
“If the scheme-makers tumble Down to their proper station, They must starve, or work, Turn thief, or Turk, Or hang, for the good o’ th’ nation.”
*
What’s the odds?--while I am floundering here the gold fish will be gone; and as I always was a dab at hooking the right Numbers, I must cast for a Share of the SIX £30,000 on the 18^{th} JULY, for it is but “giving a Sprat to catch a Herring” as a body may say, and it is the last chance we shall have in England.
~Memorandum.~
The above engraving is copied from one of the same size to a lottery bill of 1826: its inscription is verbatim the same as that below the original. In after days, this may be looked on with interest, as a specimen of the means to which the lottery schemers were reduced, in order to attract attention to “the last.”
COLLECTIONS RESPECTING LOTTERIES
1569.--THE FIRST LOTTERY.
Dr. Rawlinson, a distinguished antiquary, produced to the Antiquarian society, in 1748, “A Proposal for a very rich Lottery, general without any Blankes, contayning a great N^{o} of good prices, as well of redy money as of Plate and certain sorts of Merchandizes, having been valued and prised by the Commandment of the Queenes most excellent Majesties order, to the entent that such Commodities as may chance to arise thereof, after the charges borne, may be converted towards the reparations of the Havens and Strength of the realme, and towards such other public good workes. The N^{o} of lotts shall be foure hundred thousand, and no more; and every lott shall be the summe of tenne shillings sterling only, and no more. To be filled by the feast of St. Bartholomew. The shew of Prises ar to be seen in Cheapside, at the sign of the Queenes armes, the house of Mr. Dericke, Goldsmith, Servant to the Queen. Some other Orders about it in 1567-8. Printed by Hen. Bynneman.”
This is the earliest lottery of which we have any account. According to Stow, it was begun to be drawn at the west door of St. Paul’s cathedral, on the 11th of January, 1569, (11th of Elizabeth,) and continued incessantly drawing, day and night, till the 6th of May following.[431] It was at first intended to have been drawn “at the house of Mr. Dericke,” who was the queen’s jeweller.[432] “Whether,” says Maitland, “this lottery was on account of the public, or the selfish views of private persons, my author[433] does not mention; but ’tis evident, by the time it took up in drawing, it must have been of great concern. This I have remarked as being the first of the kind I read in England.” Maitland does not seem to have been acquainted with Dr. Rawlinson’s communication of the printed “Proposal” for it to the society of Antiquaries, which, as it states that the “commodities,” or profits, arising therefrom were to be appropriated to the “reparations of the havens and strength of the realme,” obviates all doubt as to its being “on account of the public.”
* * * * *
In 1586, 28th of the reign of Elizabeth, “A Lotterie, for marvellous rich and beautifull armor, was begunne to be drawn at London, in S. Paules churchyard, at the great west gate, (an house of timber and boord being there erected for that purpose,) on St. Peter’s day in the morning, which lotterie continued in drawing day and night for the space of two or three daies.”[434] Of this lottery it is said, in lord Burghley’s Diary, at the end of Murden’s State papers, “June, 1586, the lottery of armour under the charge of John Calthorp determined.”[435] This is the second English lottery of which mention has been made.
* * * * *
In 1619, 16th of James I., it appears, from the following entry in the register of charitable gifts to the corporation of Reading, that a lottery was held in that town. “Whereas at a Lottery held within the Borough of Reading, in the Year of our Ld. God 1619, Gabriel Barber Gent. Agent in the sd. Lottery for the Councell & Company of Virginia of his own good Will & Charity towarde poor Tradesmen ffreemen & Inhabitants of the sd. Borough of Reading, & for the better enabling such poor Tradesmen to support & bear their Charges in their several Places & Callings in the sd. Corporation from time to time for ever freely gave & delivered to the Mayor & Burgesses of this Corporation the Sum of forty Pounds of lawfull Money of England Upon Special Trust & Confidence, that the sd. Mayor & Burgesses & their Successors shall from time to time for ever dispose & lend these 40_l._ to & amongst Six poor Tradesmen after the rate of 06_l._ 13_s._ 4_d._ to each Man for the Term of five Years gratis And after those five Years ended to dispose & lend the sd. 40_l._ by Such Soms to Six other poor Tradesmen for other five Years & so from five years to five years Successively upon good Security for ever Neverthelesse provided & upon Condition that none of those to whom the sd. Summs of mony shall be lent during that Term of five years shall keep either Inn or Tavern or dwell forth of the sd. Borough, but there during that time and terme, shall as other Inhabitants of the sd. Borough reside & dwell.
“Memorand. that the sd. Sum of 40_l._ came not into the hands & charge of the Mayor & Burgesses until April 1626.”
This extract was communicated to the “Gentleman’s Magazine” in 1778, by a correspondent, who, referring to this gift of “Gabriel Barber, gent., agent in the said lottery,” says, “If it be asked what is become of it now? gone, it is supposed, where the chickens went before during the pious protectorship of Cromwell.”
* * * * *
In 1630, 6th Charles I., there was a project “for the conveying of certain springs of water into London and Westminster, from within a mile and a half of Hodsdon, in Hertfordshire, by the undertakers, Sir Edward Stradling and John Lyde.” The author of this project was one Michael Parker. “For defraying the expences whereof, king Charles grants them a special license to erect and publish a lottery or lotteries; according” says the record, “to the course of other lotteries heretofore used or practised.” This is the first mention of lotteries either in the Fœdera or Statute-book. “And, for the sole privilege of bringing the said waters in aqueducts to London, they were to pay four thousand pounds per annum into the king’s exchequer: and, the better to enable them to make the said large annual payment, the king grants them leave to bring their aqueducts through any of his parks, chases, lands, &c., and to dig up the same gratis.”[436]
* * * * *
In 1653, during the commonwealth, there was a lottery at Grocers’ Hall, which appears to have escaped the observation of the inquirers concerning this species of adventure. It is noticed in an old weekly newspaper, called “Perfect Account of the Daily Intelligence 16-23 November 1653,” by the following
~Advertisement.~
At the Committee for Claims for Lands in Ireland,
Ordered, That a Lottery be at Grocers-Hall London, on Thursday 15 Decem. 1653, both for Provinces and Counties, to begin at 8 of the clock in the forenoon of the same day; and all persons concerned therein are to take notice thereof.
W. Tibbs.
Under Charles II., the crown, with a view to reward its adherents who resided within the bills of mortality, and had served it with fidelity during the interregnum, granted “Plate Lotteries;” by which is to be understood a gift of plate from the crown, to be disposed of in that manner as prizes, with permission to sell tickets. According to the Gazette, in April 1669, Charles II., the duke of York, (afterwards James II.,) and many of the nobility were present “at the grand plate lottery, which, by his majesty’s command, was then opened at the sign of the Mermaid over against the mews.” This was the origin of endless schemes, under the titles of “Royal Oak,” “Twelve-penny Lotteries,” &c., which will be adverted to presently. They may be further understood by an intimation, published soon after the drawing sanctioned by the royal visitors, in these words, “This is to give notice, that any persons who are desirous to farm any of the counties within the kingdom of England or dominion of Wales, in order to the setting up of a plate lottery, or any other lottery whatsoever, may repair to the lottery office, at Mr. Philips’s house, in Mermaid-court over against the mews; where they may contract with the trustees commissioned by his majesty’s letters patent for the management of the said patent, on the behalf of the truly loyal, indigent officers.”[437] In those times, the crown exceeded its prerogative by issuing these patents, and the law was not put in motion to question them.
Book Lotteries.
During the reign of Charles II. lotteries were drawn at the theatres. At Vere-street theatre, which stood in Bear-yard, to which there is an entrance through a passage at the south-west corner of Lincolns’-inn-fields, another from Vere-street, and a third from Clare-market, Killigrew’s company performed during the seasons of 1661 and 1662, and part of 1663, when they removed to the new built theatre in Drury-lane; and the Vere-street theatre was probably unoccupied until Mr. Ogilby, the author of the now useless, though then useful “Itinerarium Angliæ, or Book of Roads,” adopted it, as standing in a popular neighbourhood, for the temporary purpose of drawing a lottery of books, which took place in 1668.
Books were often the species of property held out as a lure to adventurers, by way of lottery, for the benefit of the suffering loyalists. Among these, Blome’s Recreations, and Gwillim’s Heraldry, first edition, may be mentioned. In the Gazette of May 18, 1668, is the following advertisement: “Mr. Ogilby’s lottery of books opens on Monday the 25th instant, at the old Theatre between Lincoln’s-inn-fields and Vere-street; where all persons concerned may repair on Monday, May 18, and see the volumes, and put in their money.” On May 25th is announced, “Mr. Ogilby’s lottery of books (adventurers coming in so fast that they cannot in so short time be methodically registered) opens not till Tuesday the 2d of June; then not failing to draw; at the old Theatre between Lincoln’s-inn-fields and Vere-street.”
A correspondent, under the signature of “A Bibliographer,” communicates to the “Gentleman’s Magazine,” from whence the notice respecting these book lotteries is extracted, one of Ogilby’s Proposals as a curiosity, in which light it is certainly to be regarded, and therefore it has a place here, as follows:--
A SECOND PROPOSAL, by the author, for the better and more speedy vendition of several volumes, (his own works,) by the way of a standing Lottery, licensed by his royal highness the duke of York, and assistants of the corporation of the royal fishing.
WHEREAS John Ogilby, esq., erected a standing lottery of books, and completely furnished the same with very large, fair, and special volumes, all of his own designment and composure, at vast expense, labour, and study of twenty years; the like impressions never before exhibited in the English tongue. Which, according to the appointed time, on the 10th of May, 1665, opened; and to the general satisfaction of the adventurers, with no less hopes of a clear despatch and fair advantage to the author, was several days in drawing: when its proceedings were stopt by the then growing sickness, and lay discontinued under the arrest of that common calamity, till the next year’s more violent and sudden visitation, the late dreadful and surprising conflagration, swallowed the remainder, being two parts of three, to the value of three thousand pounds and upward, in that unimaginable deluge. Therefore, to repair in some manner his so much commiserated losses, by the advice of many his patrons, friends, and especially by the incitations of his former adventurers, he resolves, and hath already prepared, not only to reprint all his own former editions, but others that are new, of equal value, and like estimation by their embellishments, and never yet published; with some remains of the first impressions, relics preserved in several hands from the fire; to set up a second standing lottery, where such the discrimination of fortune shall be, that few or none shall return with a dissatisfying chance. The whole draught being of greater advantage by much (to the adventurers) than the former. And accordingly, after publication, the author opened his office, where they might put in their first encouragements, (viz.) twenty shillings, and twenty more at the reception of their fortune, and also see those several magnificent volumes, which their varied fortune (none being bad) should present them.
[438]But, the author now finding more difficulty than he expected, since many of his promisers (who also received great store of tickets to dispose of, towards promotion of his business) though seeming well resolved and very willing, yet straining courtesy not to go foremost in paying their monies, linger out, driving it off till near the time appointed for drawing; which dilatoriness: (since despatch is the soul and life to his proposal, his only advantage a speedy vendition:) and also observing how that a money dearth, a silver famine, slackens and cools the courage of adventurers; through which hazy humours magnifying medium shillings loome like crowns, and each forty shillings a ten pound heap. Therefore, according to the present humour now reigning, he intends to adequate his design; and this seeming too large-roomed, standing lottery, new modelled into many less and more likely to be taken tenements, which shall not open only a larger prospect of pleasing hopes, but more real advantage to the adventurer. Which are now to be disposed of thus: the whole mass of books or volumes, being the same without addition or diminution, amounting according to their known value (being the prices they have been usually disposed at) to thirteen thousand seven hundred pounds; so that the adventurers will have the above said volumes (if all are drawn) for less than two thirds of what they would yield in process of time, book by book. He now resolves to attemper, or mingle each prize with four allaying blanks; so bringing down, by this means, the market from double pounds to single crowns.
THE PROPOSITIONS.--First, whosoever will be pleased to put in five shillings shall draw a lot, his fortune to receive the greatest or meanest prize, or throw away his intended spending money on a blank. Secondly, whoever will adventure deeper, putting in twenty-five shillings, shall receive, if such his bad fortune be that he draws all blanks, a prize presented to him by the author of more value than his money (if offered to be sold) though proffered ware, &c. Thirdly, who thinks fit to put in for eight lots forty shillings shall receive nine, and the advantage of their free choice (if all blanks) of either of the works complete, viz. Homer’s Iliads and Odysses, or Æsop the first and second volumes, the China book, or Virgil. Of which,
The first and greatest Prize contains 1 Lot, Number 1.
An imperial Bible with Chorographical and an hundred historical sculps, valued at 25_l._ Virgil translated, with sculps and annotations, val. 5_l._ Homer’s Iliads, adorned with sculps, val. 5_l._ Homer’s Odysses, adorned with sculps, val. 4_l._ Æsop’s Fables paraphrased and sculped, in folio, val. 3_l._
A second Collection of Æsopick Fables, adorned with sculps, never * * * * * * * * * * * [Imperfect.] * * *
His Majestie’s Entertainment passing through the city of London, and Coronation.
These are one of each, of all the books contained in the Lottery, the whole value 51_l._
The Second Prize contains 1 Lot, Num. 2.
One imperial Bible with all the sculps, val. 25_l._ Homer complete, in English, val. 9_l._ Virgil, val. 5_l._ Æsop complete, val. 6_l._ The Description of China, val. 4_l._
In all 49 Pound.
The Third Prize contains 1 Lot, Num. 3.
One royal Bible with all the sculps 10_l._ Homer’s Works in English, val. 9_l._ Virgil translated, with sculps and annotations, val. 5_l._ The first and second vol. of Æsop, val. 6_l._ The Description of China, val. 4_l._ Entertainment, val. 2_l._
In all 36 Pound.
1 Lot, Num. 4.
One imperial Bible with all the sculps, val. 25_l._ Æsop’s Fables the first and second vol. val. 6_l._
In all 31 Pound.
1 Lot, Num. 5.
One imperial Bible with all the sculps, val. 25_l._ Virgil translated, with sculps, val. 5_l._
In all 30 Pound.
1 Lot, Num. 6.
One imperial Bible with all the sculps, val. 25_l._ And a Description of China, val. 4_l._
In all 29 Pound.
1 Lot, Num. 7.
One imperial Bible with all the sculps, and a new Æsop, val. 28_l._
1 Lot, Num. 8.
One imperial Bible with all the sculps, val. 25_l._
1 Lot, Num. 9.
A royal Bible with all the sculps, val. 10_l._ A Description of China, val. 4_l._ And a Homer complete, val. 9_l._
In all 23 Pound.
1 Lot, Num. 10.
A royal Bible with all the sculps, val. 10_l._ A Virgil complete, val. 5_l._ Æsop’s Fables the first and second vols. val. 6_l._
In all 21 Pound.
1 Lot, Num. 11.
One royal Bible with all the sculps, val. 10_l._ And a Homer’s Works complete, val. 9_l._
In all 19 Pound.
1 Lot, Num. 12.
One royal Bible with all the sculps, val. 10_l._ And both the Æsops, val. 6_l._
In all 16 Pound.
1 Lot, Num. 13.
One royal Bible with all the sculps, val. 10_l._ A Virgil complete in English, val. 5_l._
In all 15 Pound.
1 Lot, Num. 14.
One royal Bible with all the sculps, val. 10_l._ A Description of China, val. 4_l._
In all 14 Pound.
* * * * [Imperfect.] * * *
1 Lot, Num. 16.
One royal Bible with all the sculps, val. 10_l._ The second volume of Æsop, val. 3_l._
In all 13 Pound.
1 Lot, Num. 17.
One royal Bible with all the sculps, val. 10_l._ And an Entertainment, val. 2_l._
In all 12 Pound.
1 Lot, Num. 18.
One royal Bible with all the sculps, val. 10_l._
1 Lot, Num. 19.
One royal Bible with Chorographical sculps, val. 5_l._ One Virgil complete, val. 5_l._
In all 10 Pound.
1 Lot, Num. 20.
One royal Bible with Chorographical sculps, val. 5_l._ And a Homer’s Iliads, val. 5_l._
In all 10 Pound.
1 Lot, Num. 21.
One royal Bible with Chorographical sculps, val. 5_l._ And a Homer’s Odysses, val. 4_l._
In all 9 Pound.
1 Lot, Num. 22.
One royal Bible with Chorographical sculps, val. 5_l._ And a Description of China, val. 4_l._
In all 9 Pound.
1 Lot, Num. 23.
One royal Bible with Chorographical sculps, val. 5_l._ And Æsop complete, val. 6_l._
In all 11 Pound.
1 Lot, Num. 24.
A royal Bible with Chorographical sculps, val. 5_l._ And Æsop the first volume, val. 3_l._
In all 8 Pound.
1 Lot, Num. 25.
A royal Bible with Chorographical sculps, val. 5_l._ And Æsop the second volume, val. 3_l._
In all 8 Pound.
1 Lot, Num. 26.
A royal Bible, ruled, with Chorographical sculps, val. 6_l._
1 Lot, Num. 27.
A royal Bible with Chorographical sculps, ruled, val. 6_l._
1 Lot, Num. 28.
One royal Bible with Chorographical sculps, val. 5_l._
10 Lot, Num. 29.
Each a Homer complete, val. 9_l._
10 Lot, Num. 30.
Each a double Æsop complete, val. 6_l._
520 Lot, Num. 31.
Each a Homer’s Iliads, val. 5_l._
520 Lot, Num. 32.
Each a Homer’s Odysses, val. 4_l._
570 Lot, Num. 33.
Each a Virgil complete, val. 5_l._
570 Lot, Num. 34.
Each a China Book, val. 4_l._
570 Lot, Num. 35.
Each the first volume of Æsop, val. 3_l._
570 Lot, Num. 36.
Each the second volume of Æsop, val. 3_l._
The whole number of the lots three thousand, three hundred, and sixty-eight. The number of the blanks as above ordered; so that the total received is but four thousand, one hundred, and ten pounds.
The office where their monies are to be paid in, and they receive their tickets, and where the several volumes or prizes may be daily seen, (by which visual speculation understanding their real worth better than by the ear or a printed paper,) is kept at the Black Boy, over against St. Dunstan’s church, Fleet-street. The adventurers may also repair, for their better convenience, to pay in their monies, to Mr. Peter Cleyton, over against the Dutch church, in Austin-friars, and to Mr. Baker, near Broad-street, entering the South-door of the Exchange, and to Mr. Roycroft, in Bartholomew-close.
The certain day of drawing, the author promiseth (though but half full) to be the twenty-third of May next. Therefore all persons that are willing to adventure, are desired to bring or send in their monies with their names, or what other inscription or motto they will, by which to know their own, by the ninth of May next, it being Whitson-eve, that the author may have time to put up the lots and inscriptions into their respective boxes.
* * * * *
D. H., one of Mr. Urban’s contributors, mentions that he had seen an undated “Address to the Learned: or, an advantageous lottery for Books in quires; wherein each adventurer of a guinea is sure of a prize of two pound value; and it is but four to one that he has a prize of three, six, eight, twelve, or fifty pounds, as appears by the following proposals:” one thousand five hundred lots, at 1_l._ 1_s._ each, to be drawn with the lots out of two glasses, superintended by John Lilly and Edward Darrel, esqrs., Mr. Deputy Collins, and Mr. William Proctor, stationer, two lots of 50_l._, ten of 12_l._, twenty of 8_l._, sixty-eight of 6_l._, two hundred of 3_l._, one thousand two hundred of 3_l._ The undertakers were: Thomas Leigh, and D. Midwinter, at the Rose and Crown, in St. Paul’s Church-yard; Mr. Aylmer, at the Three Pigeons, and Mr. Richard Parker, under the Piazza of the Royal Exchange; Mr. Nicholson, in Little Britain; Mr. Took, at the Middle Temple gate, Fleet-street; Mr. Brown, at the Black Swan, without Temple-bar; Mr. Sare, at Gray’s-inn gate; Mr. Lownds, at the Savoy gate; Mr. Castle, near Scotland-yard gate; and Mr. Gillyflower, in Westminster-hall, booksellers.
* * * * *
Letters patent in behalf of the loyalists were from time to time renewed, and, from the Gazette of October 11, 1675, it appears by those dated June 19, and December 17, 1674, there were granted for thirteen years to come, “all lotteries whatsoever, invented or to be invented, to several truly loyal and indigent officers, in consideration of their many faithful services and sufferings, with prohibition to all others to use or set up the said lotteries,” unless deputations were obtained from those officers.
A PENNY LOTTERY.
The most popular of all the schemes was that drawn at the Dorset-garden theatre, near Salisbury-square, Fleet-street, with the capital prize of a thousand pound for a penny. The drawing began October 19, 1698; and, in the Protestant Mercury of the following day, “its fairness (was said) to give universal content to all that were concerned.” In the next paper is found an inconsistent and frivolous story, as to the possessor of the prize: “Some time since, a boy near Branford, going to school one morning, met an old woman, who asked his charity; the boy replied, he had nothing to give her but a piece of bread and butter, which she accepted. Some time after, she met the boy again, and told him she had good luck after his bread and butter, and therefore would give him a penny, which, after some years’ keeping, would produce many pounds: he accordingly kept it a great while; and at last, with some friend’s advice, put it into the penny lottery, and we are informed that on Tuesday last the said lot came up with 1000_l._ prize.” However absurd this relation appears, it must be recollected those to whom it was principally addressed had given proof of having sufficient credulity for such a tale, in believing that two hundred and forty thousand shares could be disposed of and appropriated to a single number, independent of other prizes. The scheme of the “Penny Lottery” was assailed in a tract, intituled “The Wheel of Fortune, or Nothing for a Penny; being remarks on the drawing of the Penny Lottery at the Theatre Royal, in Dorset-Garden,” 1698, 4to. Afterwards at this theatre there was a short exhibition of prize-fighters; and the building was totally deserted in 1703.
In 1698-9, schemes were started, called “The Lucky Adventure; or, Fortunate Chance, being 2000_l._ for a groat, or 3000_l._ for a shilling:” and “Fortunatus, or another adventure of 1000_l._ for a penny:” but purchasers were more wary, and the money returned in both cases.--The patentees also advertised against the “Marble-board, alias the Woollich-board lotteries; the Figure-board, alias the Whimsey-board, and the Wyreboard lotteries.”[439]
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These patents of the Restoration seem to have occasioned considerable strife between the parties who worked under them. The following verses from “The Post Boy, January 3, 1698,” afford some insight to their estimation among sensible people:--
A DIALOGUE betwixt the NEW LOTTERIES and the ROYAL OAK.
New Lott. To you, the mother of our schools, Where knaves by licence manage fools, Finding fit juncture and occasion, To pick the pockets of the nation; We come to know how we must treat ’em, And to their heart’s content may cheat ’em. Oak. It cheers my aged heart to see So numerous a progeny; I find by you, that ’tis heaven’s will That knavery should flourish still. You have docility and wit, And fools were never wanting yet. Observe the crafty auctioneer, His art to sell waste paper dear; When he for salmon baits his hooks, That cormorant of offal books, Who bites, as sure as maggots breed, Or carrion crows on horse-flesh feed; Fair specious titles him deceive, To sweep what Sl---- and T----n leave. If greedy gulls you wou’d ensnare, Make ’em proposals wondrous fair; Tell him strange golden show’rs shall fall, And promise mountains to ’em all. New Lott. That craft we’ve already taught, And by that trick have millions caught; Books, bawbles, toys, all sorts of stuff, Have gone off this way well enough. Nay, music, too, invades our art, And to some tune wou’d play her part. I’ll show you now what we are doing, For we have divers wheels agoing. We now have found out richer lands Than Asia’s hills, or Afric’s sands, And to vast treasures must give birth, Deep hid in bowels of the earth; In fertile Wales, and God knows where, Rich mines of gold and silver are, From whence we drain prodigious store Of silver coin’d, tho’ none in ore, Which down our throats rich coxcombs pour, In hopes to make us vomit more. Oak. This project surely must be good, Because not eas’ly understood: Besides, it gives a mighty scope To the fool’s argument--vain hope. No eagle’s eye the cheat can see, Thro’ hope thus back’d by mystery. New Lott. We have, besides, a thousand more, For great and small, for rich and poor, From him that can his thousands spare, Down to the penny customer. Oak. The silly mob in crowds will run, To be at easy rates undone. A gimcrack-show draws in the rout, Thousands their all by pence lay out. New Lott. We, by experience, find it true, But we have methods wholly new, Strange late-invented ways to thrive, To make men pay for what they give, To get the rents into our hands Of their hereditary lands, And out of what does thence arise, To make ’em buy annuities. We’ve mathematic combination, To cheat folks by plain demonstration, Which shall be fairly manag’d too, The undertaker knows not how. Besides ---- Oak. Pray, hold a little, here’s enough, To beggar Europe of this stuff. Go on, and prosper, and be great, I am to you a puny cheat.[440]
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The “Royal-Oak Lottery,” as the rival if not the parent of the various other demoralizing schemes, obtained the largest share of public odium. The evils it had created are popularly set forth in a remarkable tract, entitled “The Arraignment, Trial, and Condemnation of Squire Lottery, alias Royal-Oak Lottery, London, 1699,” 8vo. The charges against the offender are arrayed under the forms imported by the title-page. The following extracts are in some respects curious, as exemplifying the manners of the times:--
Die Lunæ vicesimo die Martii 1698/9. Anno Regni, &c.
At the Time and Place appointed, came on the Trial of Squire Lottery, alias Royal-Oak Lottery, for abundance of intolerable Tricks, Cheats, and high Misdemeanours, upon an Indictment lately found against him, in order to a National Delivery.
About ten of the Clock, the day and year abovesaid, the Managers came into the Court, where, in the presence of a vast confluence of People of all Ranks, the Prisoner was ordered to the Bar.
Proclamation being made, and a Jury of good Cits which were to try the Prisoner being sworn, the Indictment against Squire Lottery alias Royal-Oak Lottery, was read.
The Jurors’ Names.
Mr. Positive, a Draper in Covent Garden. Mr. Squander, an Oilman in Fleet-street. Mr. Pert, a Tobacconist, ditto. Mr. Captious, a Milliner in Paternoster-Row. Mr. Feeble, a Coffeeman near the Change. Mr. Altrick, a Merchant in Gracechurch-street. Mr. Haughty, a Vintner by Grays-Inn, Holborn. Mr. Jealous, a Cutler at Charing-Cross. Mr. Peevish, a Bookseller in St. Paul’s Church-yard. Mr. Spilbook, near Fleet-bridge. Mr. Noysie, a Silkman upon Ludgate-hill. Mr. Finical, a Barber in Cheapside.
Cl. of Ma. Squire Lottery, alias Royal-Oak Lottery, you stand Indicted by the Name of Squire Lottery, alias Royal-Oak Lottery, for that you the said Squire Lottery, not having the Fear of God in your Heart; nor weighing the Regard and Duty you owe, and of right ought to pay to the Interest, Safety, and Satisfaction of your Fellow-Subjects; have from time to time, and at several times, and in several places, contrary to the known Laws of this Kingdom, under the shadow and coverture of a Royal Oak, propagated, continued, and carried on a most unequal, intricate, and insinuating Game, to the utter ruin and destruction of many thousand Families: And that you the said Squire Lottery, alias Royal-Oak Lottery, as a common Enemy to all young People, and an inveterate Hater of all good Conversation and Diversion, have, for many years last past, and do still continue, by certain cunning Tricks and Stratagems, insidiously, falsely, and impiously, to trepan, deceive, cheat, decoy, and entice divers Ladies, Gentlemen, Citizens, Apprentices, and others, to play away their Money at manifest Odds and Disadvantage. And that you the said Squire Lottery, alias Royal-Oak Lottery, the more secretly and effectually to carry on and propagate your base, malicious, and covetous Designs and Practices, did, and do still encourage several lewd and disorderly Persons, to meet, propose, treat, consult, consent, and agree upon several unjust and illegal Methods, how to ensnare and entangle People into your delusive Game; by which means you have, for many years last past, utterly, intirely, and irrecoverably, contrary to all manner of Justice, Humanity, or good Nature, despoiled, depraved, and defrauded, an incredible number of Persons of every Rank, Age, Sex, and Condition, of all their Lands, Goods, and Effects; and from the Ruins of multitudes built fine Houses, and purchased large Estates, to the great scandal and reflection on the Wisdom of the Nation, for suffering such an intolerable Impostor to pass so long unpunished. What say’st thou, Squire Lottery, art thou guilty of the aforesaid Crimes, Cheats, Tricks, and Misdemeanours thou standest Indicted of, or not Guilty?
Lottery. Not Guilty. But, before I proceed to make my Defence, I beg I may be permitted the assistance of three or four learned Sharpers to plead for me, in case any Matter of Law arise.
This being assented to, the Managers of the Prosecution made their speeches in support of the Charge, and called Captain Pasthope.
1st Man. Sir, Do you know Squire Lottery, the Prisoner at the Bar?
Pasthope. Yes, I have known him intimately for near forty years; ever since the Restoration of King Charles.
1st Man. Pray will you give the Bench and Jury an Account what you know of him; how he came into England, and how he has behaved himself ever since.
Pasthope. In order to make my Evidence more plain, I hope it will not be judg’d much out of form, to premise two or three things.
1st Man. Mr. Pasthope, Take your own method to explain yourself; we must not abridge or direct you in any respect.
Pasthope. In the years 60 and 61, among a great many poor Cavaliers, ’twas my hard fate to be driven to Court for a Subsistence, where I continued in a neglected state, painfully waiting the moving of the Waters for several months; when at last a Rumour was spread, that a certain Stranger was landed in England, that in all probability, if we could get him the Sanction of a Patent, would be a good Friend to us all.
Man. You seem to intimate as if he was a Stranger; pray, do you know what Countryman he was?
Pasthope. The report of his Country was very different; some would have him a Walloon, some a Dutchman, some a Venetian, and others a Frenchman; indeed by his Policy, cunning Design, Forethought, &c. I am very well satisfied he could be no Englishman.
Man. What kind of Credentials did he bring with him to recommend him with so much advantage?
Pasthope. Why, he cunningly took upon him the Character of a Royal-Oak Lottery, and pretended a mighty Friendship to antiquated Loyalists: but for all that, there were those at Court that knew he had been banish’d out of several Countries for disorderly Practices, till at last he pitch’d upon poor easy credulous England for his Refuge.
Man. You say then, he was a Foreigner, that he came in with the Restoration, usurp’d the Title of a Royal Oak, was establish’d in Friendship to the Cavaliers, and that for disorderly Practices he had been banish’d out of several Countries; till at last he was forc’d to fix upon England as the fittest Asylum. But pray, Sir, how came you so intimately acquainted with him at first?
Pasthope. I was about to tell you. In order to manage his Affairs, it was thought requisite he should be provided with several Coadjutors, which were to be dignify’d with the Character of Patentees; amongst which number, by the help of a friendly Courtier, I was admitted for one.
Man. Oh! then I find you was a Patentee. Pray, how long did you continue in your Patentee’s Post? and what were the Reasons that urg’d you to quit it at last?
Pasthope. I kept my Patentee’s Station nine years, in which time I had clear’d 4000_l._, and then, upon some Uneasiness and Dislike, I sold it for 700_l._
Man. Pray, Captain, tell the Court more fully what was the Reason that prevail’d with you to relinquish such a profitable place.
Pasthope. I had two very strong Reasons for quitting my Post; viz. Remorse of Conscience, and Apprehension of consequent Danger. To tell you the truth, I saw so many bad Practices encourag’d and supported, and so many persons of both Sexes ruin’d; I saw so much Villany perfected and projected, and so many other intolerable Mischiefs within the compass of every day’s Proceeding, that partly through the stings of my Mind and the apprehensions I was under of the Mob, with a great deal of Reluctancy I quitted my Post.
Man. Captain, I find you’re nicely qualify’d for an Evidence, pray, therefore, give the Court an Account what Methods the Prisoner us’d to take to advance his business.
Pasthope. The way in my time, and I suppose ’tis the same still, was to send out Sharpers and Setters into all parts of the Town, and to give ’em direction to magnify the Advantage, Equality, and Justice of his Game, in order to decoy Women and Fools to come and play away their Money.
Man. Well, but sure he had no Women or Fools of Quality, Rank, or Reputation, that came to him? According to the common Report that passes upon him, there’s none but the very Scoundrels and Rabble, the very Dregs and Refuse of Fools, will think him worth their Conversation.
Pasthope. Truly, he had ’em of all sorts, as well Lord-fools and Lady-fools, Knight-fools and Esquire-fools, or any other sort of Fools: and, indeed, he made no difference between ’em neither; a Cobler-fool had as much respect as a Lord-fool, in proportion to the money he had in his Pocket; and pro hac vice had as extensive a Qualification to command, domineer, and hector, as the best Fool of ’em all.
Man. Did you never observe any of these Fools to get any money of him? I can’t imagine what it could be that could influence ’em to embark with him, if there was nothing to be got.
Pasthope. There was never any body that ever got any thing of him in the main: now and then one by chance might carry off a small matter; and so ’twas necessary they should, for otherwise his Constitution must dissolve in course.
Man. ’Tis a great mystery to me, that so many People should pursue a Game where every body’s a Loser at last; but pray, Captain, then, what are the odds the Prisoner is reputed to have against those that play with him?
Pasthope. No body can tell you their Advantage; ’tis a cunning intricate Contexture, and truly I very much question whether the original Projector himself had a perfect Idea of the Odds: at a full Table and deep Play, I have seen him clear 600_l._ in less than an hour.
Man. What are the Odds he owns himself?
Pasthope. Only 32 Figures against 27, which indeed is Odds enough to insure all the money at length. But this, it seems, was an Advantage that was allow’d him, that he might be able to keep a good House, relieve the Poor, and pay an annual Pension to the Crown or the Courtiers.
Man. You say, by his original Agreement he’s to keep a good House: pray after all, what sort of House is it he does keep?
Past. Why, he dines at the Tavern, where any body that has 40 or 50_l._ to play away with him the Afternoon, may be admitted into his Company.
Man. What, does he entertain none but those that have 40 or 50_l._ to lose?
Past. He never converses with any Person that has no money: if they have no money, their Company’s burdensom and ungrateful, and the Waiters have Directions to keep ’em out.
Man. Does he do this to the very Persons he has ruin’d, and won all they have? That, methinks, is a pitch of Barbarity beyond the common degree: I hardly ever read or heard of any thing so exaltedly cruel and brutish, in all the Accounts of my Life.
Past. I have seen abundance of Examples of this nature, one, in particular, which I shall never forget; a poor Lady, that had lost 350_l._ per annum to him, beside two or three thousand pounds in ready money, basely and inhumanly hal’d out of doors, but for asking for a glass of Sack.
Man. You were mentioning his Charity to the Poor too; is there any thing of reality in that?
Past. For my part, I never heard of one good Act he has done in the whole course of his Life: secret Charity is the most meritorious, ’tis true; and perhaps it may be that way he may communicate his, for indeed I never heard of any he did in publick.
Man. You were mentioning too an annual Pension to the Crown; what is it he pays to the Crown?
Past. Indeed I cannot be positive in that: to the best of my remembrance ’tis four thousand pounds per annum: in compensation for which, beside the general liberty he has to cheat and abuse the World, he has the sole Privilege of Licensing all other Cheats and Impostors, commonly known by the Name of Lotteries.
2d Man. You were speaking something, Captain Pasthope, just now, as if the Prisoner was intrusted with these Advantages for the benefit of some poor Cavaliers, which were to be the Patentees, as you call ’em. Pray tell the Jury what kind of Cavaliers these Patentees were.
Past. That was all but a Blind, a pure Trick to deceive the World: the Patentees, in the main, were either Sharpers or broken Tradesman, or some such sort or Vermin, that had cunningly twisted themselves into the business under the shadow of Cavaliers.
Man. Pray, what Opinion had the World of the Prisoner when he first came to be known in England?
Pasthope. The same that it has of him now: all wise men look’d upon him as a Cheat, and a dangerous Spark to be let loose in publick among our English Youth: and indeed I have heard a great many sober men pass very sharp Censures upon the Wisdom of the Court for intrusting him with a Royal Authority.
Man. What kind of Censures were they that they past? do you remember any of them particularly?
Past. Yes, I remember several things that I am almost ashamed to mention. I have heard ’em often reflecting what an intolerable Shame and Scandal it was, that a whole Kingdom should be sacrificed to the Interest of two or three Courtiers, and three or four scurvy mercenary Patentees; that so many thousand Families should be ruin’d, and no notice taken of it; that so many Wives should be seduc’d to rob and betray their Husbands, so many Children and Servants their Parents and Masters, and so many horrid Mischiefs transacted daily under the shadow of this pretended Royal-Oak Lottery, and no manner of means used to suppress it.
2d Man. But, Captain, did you never hear of any Person that got money of the Prisoner in the main?
Past. Not one. I defy him to produce one single person that’s a Gainer, against a hundred thousand he has ruin’d. I’m confident I have a Catalogue by me of several thousands that have been utterly undone by him, within the compass of my own Experience.
Man. What does the Town in general say of him?
Past. The town, here-a-late, is grown so inveterate and incens’d against him, that I am very well assur’d that if he had not been call’d to account in the very nick, the Mob would have speedily taken him into their correction.
Man. Well, Sir, you hear what the Witness has said against you; will you ask him any Questions?
Lottery. Only one; and leave the rest till I come to make my general Defence. Sir, I desire to know whether you was not one that was turn’d out upon the last Renewal of the Patent?
Past. No, Sir, I was not. You might have remember’d that I told you I saw so much of your Falshood and Tricks, and so many innocent People daily sacrific’d, to support a Society of lewd, debauch’d, impertinent, and withal imperious Cannibals, that I thought it my best way to quit your Fraternity, and pack off with that little I had got, and leave you to manage your mathematical Balls, &c. by your self.
Man. I suppose, Sir, you will ask him no more Questions, and so we’ll call another Witness.
Lottery. No, Sir, I have done with him.
Man. Call Squire Frivolous, the Counsellor: Sir, do you know Squire Lottery, the Prisoner?
Frivolous. I have been acquainted with him several years, to my great Cost and Damage. The first time I had the misfortune to know him, was at an Act at Oxford about twenty years ago; where among abundance of other young Fools that he entic’d to sell their Books for Money to play with him, &c. I was one.
Man. What, I hope, he was not so barbarous as to decoy the poor young Gentlemen out of their Books?
Frivolous. Yes, out of every thing they had, and out of the College to boot: For my own part I have reason to curse him, I’m sure; He flatter’d me up with so many Shams and false Pretences, and deluded me with so many chimerical Notions and cunning Assurances, and urg’d me so long from one deceitful Project to another, till at last he had trickt me out of all I had in the world, and then turn’d me over to the scorn and laughter of my Friends and Acquaintance.
Man. Can you give the Bench any particular Names of Persons he has ruin’d?
Frivolous. I have a Collection of Names in my Pocket, which I’m sure he can’t object against, that have lost fourteen or fifteen thousand Pound per Annum, within my own Knowledg and Acquaintance.
Man. That’s a round Sum: But, pray, Mr. Frivolous, for the satisfaction of the Jury, mention a few of their Names.
Frivolous. I suppose, Squire Lottery, you must remember the Kentish Squire in the Blue Coat, that you won the six hundred Pound per Annum of, in less than five months. You remember the Lord’ Steward that lost an Estate of his own of three hundred Pound per Annum, and run four thousand Pound in Arrears to his Lord beside. You remember, I suppose, the West-India Widow, that lost the Cargo of two Ships, valued at fifteen hundred Pound, in less than a month. I know you can’t forget the honest Lady at St. James’s, that sold all her Goods, Plate, and China, for about seven hundred Pound, and paid it all away to you, as near as I remember, in three mornings. I know you can’t forget the three Merchants’ Daughters that play’d away their whole Fortunes, viz. fifteen hundred Pounds apiece in less than two months. You remember the Silkman from Ludgate-hill; the young Draper in Cornhil; the Country Parson; the Doctor of Physick’s Daughter; the Lady’s Woman; the Merchant’s Apprentice; the Marine Captain; the Ensign of the Guards; the Coffeeman’s Neece; the old Justice’s Nephew; and abundance of others, which I have in my Catalogue, that you have cheated out of large Sums, and utterly ruin’d.
Lottery. I desire that he may be ask’d, what it was that influenc’d him at first to make such a Catalogue?
Man. He desires to know upon what account it was that you made this Collection of Names?
Frivolous. I had once a design to have him call’d to an Account, and forc’d to a Restitution; in which case I thought the Names of these Persons might be of some use to me.
Man. What Method did you propose to your self to bring him to a Restitution?
Frivolous. I had a Notion, that if I drew up the Case, and got it recommended to the Honourable House of Commons, they would have thought the Prisoner worth their correction: But this he got intelligence of, and employ’d one of his Agents to make up the matter with me.
Man. What, I suppose you mean he brib’d you with a Sum of Money to decline the Prosecution?
Frivolous. Truly you have hit of the very thing; he knew that I was poor, and he was guilty, and so compounded with me for a few Guineas to let the thing fall: And indeed, if I am not misinform’d, his Art of Bribing, &c. has guarded him so long from the Punishments which the Laws of the Land, and common Justice, have provided for such notorious Offenders.
Other witnesses having been called, the arraigned defended himself as follows:--
Lottery. Sir, I intend to spend as little of your time as I can: I perceive, that, let me say what I will, you are prepar’d to over-rule it, and so I’ll only say a few words, and call three or four Witnesses to prove my reputation, and then leave the good Men and true of the Jury, upon whose Verdict I must stand or fall, to use me as they shall best judg the nature of my Case deserves.
I know, Gentlemen, the tide of Prejudice runs very fierce against me; so that let me say what I will, I’m satisfy’d it will be all to very little purpose; an ill Name to a Person in my condition is certain Death, which indeed makes me a little more indifferent in making my defence.
But, Gentlemen, look upon me, I am the very Image of some of you, a married Protestant; upon which account I’m confident I may rely upon a little of your Justice, if not your Favour.
The Crimes I am charged with are indeed very great, and, what’s worse, there’s some of ’em I can never expect to evince. But then, Gentlemen, I hope you’l consider, that whatever I did, was purely in the prosecution of my occupation; and you know withal what Authority I had for it; so that if by chance, in this long tract of time, every thing should not be so nicely conformable as you expect, I hope you’l take care to lay the Saddle upon the right Horse.
You all know that Covetousness and Cheating are the inseparable Companions of a Gamester; divide him from them, and he’s the most insignificant Creature in Nature. And, Gentlemen, I appeal to your selves, if a little useful lying and falshood be not (in some cases) not only tolerable, but commendable. I dare say you will agree with me in this, that if all the Knaves and Cheats of the Nation were call’d to the Bar and executed, there would only be a few Fools left to defend the Commonwealth.
But, Gentlemen, as I told you before, I won’t spend your time, and therefore I’ll call my Witnesses. Call Captain Quondam.
Cryer. Call Capt. Quondam.
Lottery. Sir, I desire you would give the Court an account what you know of me, as to Life and Conversation.
Quondam. I have known the Prisoner for several years, and have been often in his company upon particular occasions and never saw any thing that was rude or unhandsome by him.
Man. Pray, noble Captain, what Countryman are you?
Quondam. Sir, I am a West-Countryman.
Man. An English West-Country, or a West-India Man? or what?
Quondam. I am a West-Countryman of his Majesty’s own Dominions, of the Kingdom of Ireland, in the County of Cork, and Parish of Durrus in the Barony of West-Carbury, near the great Bogg of Longuar, Gent.
Man. You’re a West-Countryman with a Witness. And, pray, how long have you been in England?
Quondam. Ever since the last year of my Soveraign Lord King James.
Man. And, pray, how long have you been a Captain?
Quondam. I was born so; my Father, my Grandfather, great Grandfather, and most of my Kin, were all Captains before me.
Man. You say you have been often in the Prisoner’s Company; pray where have you been in his Company, and upon what account?
Quondam. I have been in his Company at Epsom, Tunbridge, Lambeth, Islington, and at several other places both in Town and Country.
Man. Well, but you ha’n’t told what was the occasion that brought you so oft into his Company.
Quondam. He desired me to go along with him to help him to divert and entertain his Guests, especially the Ladies that us’d to visit him.
Man. I suppose you’re one of his Dependents: had you never no salary from him?
Quondam. I have had several Favours from him, and I must own I love him very well; and, by my Shoul, I believe he’s a very honest Man, and a good Christian.
Man. Who’s your next evidence?
Lottery. I desire Mr. Scamper may be call’d.
Cry. Call Mr. Scamper.
Lottery. Pray, Mr. Scamper, give the Court an Account what you know of me, as to my manner of living and behaviour in the World.
Scamper. You know, Squire Lottery, your Acquaintance and mine is but of a late Date; I never saw you till last May at Lambeth Wells, and then ’twas but by accident too.
After other witnesses called in his behalf, whose testimony, however, tended to inculpate Squire “Royal Oak,” the evidence was summed up.
“Then the jury withdrew to consider of their verdict, and afterwards they returned into the court, and the prisoner was brought again to the bar and found guilty, according to the indictment, and afterwards received sentence, together with Mr. Auction and Dr. Land-Bank, who were both tryed, convicted, and condemned; and their trials will be published with all possible speed. FINIS.”
There is no reason to doubt, that the representations in the preceding satire are substantially correct. Private and fallacious lotteries were at this time become so general, not only in London, but in most other great cities and towns of England, whereby the lower people and the servants and children of good families were defrauded, that an act of parliament was therefore passed 10 and 11 William III. c. 17, for suppressing such lotteries; “even although they might be set up under colour of patents or grants under the great seal. Which said grants or patents,” says the preamble “are against the common good, welfare, and peace of the kingdom, and are void and against law.” A penalty therefore of five hundred pounds was laid on the proprietors of any such lotteries, and of twenty pounds on every adventurer in them. Notwithstanding this, the like disposition to fraud and gaining prevailed again, till fresh laws were enacted for their suppression.[441]
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It is observed, that if the lottery office keepers of the present century could be credited, their adventurers enjoyed greater gaming privileges than the world ever produced; and yet it is an indubitable fact, that in the early state lotteries the advantages offered were eminently superior to those of recent times.
The Post Boy of December 27 says, “We are informed that the parliamentary lottery will be fixed in this manner:--150,000 tickets will be delivered out at 10_l._ each ticket, making in all the sum of 1,500,000_l._ sterling; the principal whereof is to be sunk, the parliament allowing nine per cent. interest for the whole during the term of thirty-two years, which interest is to be divided as follows: 3750 tickets will be prizes from 1000_l._ to 5_l._ per annum during the said thirty-two years; all the other tickets will be blanks, so that there will be thirty-nine of these to one prize, but then each blank ticket will be entitled to fourteen shillings a year for the term of thirty-two years, which is better than an annuity for life at ten per cent. over and above the chance of getting a prize.” Such was the eagerness of the public in subscribing to the above profitable scheme, that Mercers-hall was literally crowded, and the clerks were found incompetent to receive the influx of names. 600,000_l._ was subscribed January 21; and on the 28th of February the sum of 1,500,000_l._ was completed.
* * * * *
The rage for lotteries reigned uncontrolled; and the newspapers of the day teemed with proposals issued by every ravenous adventurer who could collect a few valuable articles; and from those, shopkeepers took the hint, and goods of every description were converted into prizes, even neckcloths, snuff-boxes, toothpick-cases, linen, muslin, and plate. The prices of tickets were generally sixpence, a shilling, half a crown, &c. At the latter end of the year just mentioned, the magistrates, being alarmed, declared their intention of putting the act of William and Mary in force, which levied a penalty of 500_l._ on the proprietor, and 20_l._ on each purchaser.
Matthew West, a goldsmith, of Clare-street, Clare-market, appears to have been the man who first divided lottery tickets into shares. He advertised, in 1712, that he had sold 100 tickets in the million and an half lottery in twentieths, and purposed pursuing his plan, which was well received.
The lottery for 1714 contained 50,000 tickets at 10_l._ each, with 6982 prizes and 43,018 blanks; two of the former were 10,000_l._, with one of 5, another of 4000_l._, a third of 3000_l._, and a fourth of 2000_l._, five of 1000_l._, ten of 500_l._, twenty of 200_l._, fifty of 100_l._, four hundred of 50_l._, and six thousand, four hundred, and ninety-one of 20_l._
Besides the drawing for prizes and blanks, there was another for the course of payment, and each 1000 tickets was called a course. The payments to the receivers were on the 10th of November and 10th of December, 1713. When the tickets were drawn, they were exchanged for standing orders, and thus rendered assignable by endorsement; all the blanks were repaid the 10_l._ per ticket at one payment, in the order their course of payment happened to fall, and they bore an interest of four per cent. from Michaelmas 1713. The prizes were payable in the same manner: the first drawn ticket had 500_l._; the last 1000_l._ besides the general chance; 35,000_l._ per annum was payable weekly from the Exchequer to the paymaster for the discharge of the principal and interest, and the whole funds of the civil list were chargeable for thirty-two years for 35,000_l._ per annum.[442]
* * * * *
One of the schemes which preceded the bubbles of 1720 was an insurance-office for lottery tickets, opened at Mercers-hall; and 120,000_l._ was actually subscribed on the following terms: for every ninety-six tickets insured, the proprietors agreed to allow to the company (after the tickets were drawn) 16_s._ per ticket, and five per cent. on such prizes as occurred to the ninety-six tickets, the company returning the tickets, and in case the prizes did not amount to 288_l._ valuing the prizes at par; the company to make up the money 3_l._ for every ticket. For every forty-eight tickets the proprietors agreed to allow 19_s._ per ticket, and five per cent. on the prizes as above; the company making up the tickets 144_l._ or 3_l._ per ticket, and so on down to twelve tickets. The proprietors of the tickets to advance no money for this security; but, when drawn, to allow as above; the tickets to be deposited with the company, and placed by them under seal in the bank of England; if not called for in ninety days after the drawing, to be forfeited.[443]
* * * * *
In 1712, gambling prevailed in smaller private and unlawful lotteries, under the denomination of sales of gloves, fans, cards, plate, &c.; also offices were opened for insurances on marriages, births, christenings, services, &c. and daily advertisements thereof were published in the newspapers. By an act of the tenth of queen Anne, keepers of these lotteries and offices were subjected to a penalty of 500_l._ In 1716, the spirit of adventure was excited by the sale of chances and parts of chances of tickets, which occasioned parliament again to interfere: all such practices, and all undertakings resembling lotteries, or founded on the state lottery, were declared illegal, and prohibited under a penalty of 100_l._ beyond the penalties previously enacted against private lotteries.[444]
LUCKY NUMBERS.
The attention of “the Spectator” was directed to the lottery mania prevailing at this period. One of its writers observing, on the predilection for particular numbers, ranks it among the pastimes and extravagancies of human reason, which is of so busy a nature, that it will exert itself on the meanest trifles, and work even when it wants materials. He instances, that when a man has a mind to adventure his money in a lottery, every figure of it appears equally alluring, and as likely to succeed as any of its fellows. They all of them have the same pretensions to goodluck, stand upon the same foot of competition; and no manner of reason can be given, why a man should prefer one to the other, before the lottery is drawn. In this case therefore, caprice very often acts in the place of reason, and forms to itself some groundless imaginary motive, where real and substantial ones are wanting. I know a well-meaning man that is very well pleased to risk his good fortune upon the number 1711, because it is the year of our Lord. I am acquainted with a tacker that would give a good deal for the number 134. On the contrary, I have been told of a certain zealous dissenter, who being a great enemy to popery, and believing that bad men are the most fortunate in this world, will lay two to one on the number 666 against any other number; because, says he, it is the number of the beast. Several would prefer the number 12000 before any other, as it is the number of the pounds in the great prize. In short, some are pleased to find their own age in their number; some that they have got a number which makes a pretty appearance in the cyphers; and others, because it is the same number that succeeded in the last lottery. Each of these, upon no other grounds, thinks he stands fairest for the great lot, and that he is possessed of what may not be improperly called the golden number.
I remember among the advertisements in the “Post Boy” of September the 27th, I was surprised to see the following one:
This is to give notice, that ten shillings over and above the market-price will be given for the ticket in the 1500000l. Lottery, N^{o} 132, by Nath. Cliff, at the Bible and Three Crowns in Cheapside.
This advertisement has given great matter of speculation to coffee-house theorists. Mr. Cliff’s principles and conversation have been canvassed upon this occasion, and various conjectures made, why he should thus set his heart upon N^{o} 132. I have examined all the powers in those numbers, broken them into fractions, extracted the square and cube root, divided and multiplied them all ways, but could not arrive at the secret till about three days’ ago, when I received the following letter from an unknown hand, by which I find that Mr. Nathaniel Cliff is only the agent, and not the principal, in this advertisement.
“Mr. Spectator,
“I am the person that lately advertised I would give ten shillings more than the current price for the ticket N^{o} 132 in the lottery now drawing; which is a secret I have communicated to some friends, who rally me incessantly upon that account. You must know I have but one ticket, for which reason, and a certain dream I have lately had more than once, I was resolved it should be the number I most approved. I am so positive I have pitched upon the great lot, that I could almost lay all I am worth of it. My visions are so frequent and strong upon this occasion, that I have not only possessed the lot, but disposed of the money which in all probability it will sell for. This morning, in particular, I set up an equipage which I look upon to be the gayest in the town; the liveries are very rich, but not gaudy. I should be very glad to see a speculation or two upon lottery subjects, in which you would oblige all people concerned, and in particular
“Your most humble servant,
“George Gosling.”
“P.S. Dear Spec, if I get the 12000_l._ I’ll make thee a handsome present.”
After having wished my correspondent good luck, and thanked him for his intended kindness, I shall for this time dismiss the subject of the lottery, and only observe, that the greatest part of mankind are in some degree guilty of my friend Gosling’s extravagance. We are apt to rely upon future prospects, and become really expensive while we are only rich in possibility. We live up to our expectations, not to our possessions, and make a figure proportionable to what we may be, not what we are. We outrun our present income, as not doubting to disburse ourselves out of the profits of some future place, project, or reversion that we have in view. It is through this temper of mind, which is so common among us, that we see tradesmen break, who have met with no misfortunes in their business; and men of estates reduced to poverty, who have never suffered from losses or repairs, tenants, taxes, or law-suits. In short, it is this foolish sanguine temper, this depending upon contingent futurities, that occasions romantic generosity, chimerical grandeur, senseless ostentation, and generally ends in beggary and ruin. The man who will live above his present circumstances is in great danger of living in a little time much beneath them, or, as the Italian proverb runs, the man who lives by hope will die by hunger.
It should be an indispensable rule in life, to contract our desires to our present condition, and whatever may be our expectations, to live within the compass of what we actually possess. It will be time enough to enjoy an estate when it comes into our hands; but if we anticipate our good fortune, we shall lose the pleasure of it when it arrives, and may possibly never possess what we have so foolishly counted upon.[445]
This engraving is slipped on here for the sake of readers who are fond of cuts, rather than as an illustration of any thing immediately preceding. An explanation of it will occur in the ensuing sheet, with several amusing prints relating to the present subject.
In “The Examiner”[446] there is an article on Lotteries by Mr. George Smeeton, of Bermondsey: wherein he says, “I am glad to see that Mr. Hone has taken up the subject in his Every-Day Book, by giving us a view of the drawing of the lottery, 1751; and this month (October) I hope he will treat us with a continuation of it. The print by N. Parr, in six compartments, entitled Les Divertissements de la Loterie, is worthy of his attention: it is a lively and true picture of the folly, infatuation, and roguery of the times. If he has not the print (which is rather scarce) I can furnish him with it out of my portfolio.” Mr. Smeeton has obligingly communicated the loan of his engraving, from whence the representation on this page has been selected. The original print, designed by J. Marchant, drawn by H. Gravelot, and engraved by Parr, was “published by E. Ryland, in Ave Mary-lane,” in the year 17-- hundred odd; the scissars having snipped away from this copy of the engraving the two figures which particularized the year, it cannot be specified, though from the costume it appears to have been in the reign of George II.
Parr’s print is in six compartments: the four corner ones represent, 1. “Good Luck--£1000 prize;” a scene of rejoicing at the news. 2. “Bad Luck--what, all blanks?” a scene of social disturbance. 3. “Oh--let Fortune be kind;” the desires of a female party in conference with an old woman, who divines by coffee-grounds. 4. “Dear Doctor! consult the stars;” another female party waiting on a fortune-teller for a cast of his office. The middle compartment at the bottom has a view of “Exchange-alley,” with its frequenters, in high business. The middle compartment, above it, is the drawing of the lottery in the view now placed before the reader, wherein it may be perceived that the female visitants are pewed off on one side and the men on the other; and that the pickpockets dextrously exercise their vocation among the promiscuous crowd at the moment when the drawing of a thousand pound prize excites a strong interest, and a female attracts attention by proclaiming herself the holder of the lucky “No. 765.”
To this eager display of the ticket by the fortunate lady, a representation of a scene at the drawing of “the very last lottery that will ever be drawn in England” might be a collateral illustration.
THE UNFORTUNATE LADY.
On the 2d of November, 1826, a lady named Free, who had come up from the country to try her fortune in the lottery, complained to the Lord Mayor, at the Mansion-house, that she had been deprived of her property, the sixteenth share of a 30,000_l._ prize, by the misconduct of those engaged in conducting the drawing. She stated, that she chose the ticket No. 17,092.
The Lord Mayor.--You had some particular reason, then, for selecting that number?
The Complainant replied, it was true, she had; she wished to have a ticket with the number of the year in which she was born, and finding that she could not get that precise number, she took one of 17,000, instead of 1700, as the most fortunate approach. So indeed it turned out to be; for she was sitting in the hall where the lottery was drawn, and heard her number distinctly cried out as one of the 30,000_l._ prizes, and with her own eyes she distinctly saw the officer stamp it. Nevertheless, another ticket had been returned as the prize.
The Lord Mayor doubted, from the manner in which the tickets were well known to be drawn, whether the complainant’s anxiety had not made her mistake a similar number for her own.
The Complainant.--“Oh no, my lord; it is impossible that I can be mistaken, though other people say I am. I shall not give up my claim, on the word of lottery-office clerks. If there’s any mistake, it is on their part; I trust to my own senses.”
The Lord Mayor observed, that there was scarcely any trusting even to the “senses” on such occasions; and asked her, whether she did not almost feel the money in her pockets at the very time she fancied she heard her number announced?
The Complainant assured his lordship, that she heard the announcement as calmly as could be expected, and that she by no means fainted away. She certainly made sure of having the property; she sat in the hall, and went out when the other expectants came away.
Mr. Cope, the marshal, who stated that he was in attendance officially at the drawing, to keep the peace, declared that he heard all the fortunate numbers announced, and he was sorry to be compelled to state his conviction that this belonging to the lady was not one of them.
The Lord Mayor said, he was afraid the complainant had deceived herself. He dismissed the application, recommending her to go to the stamp-office, and apply to the commissioners, who would do any thing except pay the money to satisfy her.[447]
In allusion to the lady’s name, and his decision on her case, his lordship is said to have observed on her departure, “not Free and Easy.”
* * * * *
Reverting to a former period, for the sake of including some remarkable notices of lotteries adduced by Mr. Smeeton, we find him saying, on the authority of the “London Gazette,” May 17, 1688, that, besides the lottery at the Vere-street theatre, “Ogilby, the better to carry on his Britannia, had a lottery of books at Garraway’s Coffee-house, in ‘Change-alley.”
Mr. Smeeton has the following three paragraphs:--
Lotteries of various kinds seem to have been very general about this period; indeed so much so, that government, issued a notice in the London Gazette, Sept. 27, 1683, to prevent the drawing of any lotteries (and especially a newly-invented lottery, under the name of the riffling, or raffling lottery) except those under his majesty’s letters patent for thirteen years, granted to persons for their sufferings, and have their seal of office with this inscription--‘Meliora Designavi.’
In 1683, prince Rupert dying rather poor, a plan was devised to “raise the wind” by disposing of all his jewels; but as the public were not satisfied with the mode of drawing the lotteries, on account of the many cheats practised on them, they would not listen to any proposals, until the king himself guaranteed to see that all was fair, and also, that Mr. Francis Child, the goldsmith, at Temple-bar, London, would be answerable for their several adventures; as appears by the London Gazette, Oct. 1, 1683:--“These are to give notice, that the jewels of his late royal highness prince Rupert have been particularly valued and appraised by Mr. Isaac Legouch, Mr. Christopher Rosse, and Mr. Richard Beauvoir, jewellers, the whole amounting to twenty thousand pounds, and will be sold by way of lottery, each lot to be five pounds. The biggest prize will be a great pearl necklace, valued at 8,000_l._, and none less than 100_l._ A printed particular of the said appraisement, with their divisions into lots, will be delivered gratis, by Mr. Francis Child, at Temple-bar, London, into whose hands such as are willing to be adventurers are desired to pay their money, on or before the first day of November next. As soon as the whole sum is paid in, a short day will be appointed (which, it is hoped, will be before Christmas) and notified in the Gazette, for the drawing thereof, which will be done in his majesty’s presence, who is pleased to declare, that he himself will see all the prizes put in amongst the blanks, and that the whole will be managed with equity and fairness, nothing being intended but the sale of the said jewels at a moderate value. And it is further notified, for the satisfaction of all as shall be adventurers, that the said Mr. Child shall and will stand obliged to each of them for their several adventures. And that each adventurer shall receive their money back if the said lottery be not drawn and finished before the first day of February next.”--Mr. Child was the first regular banker: he began business soon after the Restoration, and received the honour of knighthood. He lived in Fleet-street, where the shop still continues in a state of the highest respectability. A subsequent notice says, “that the king will probably, tomorrow, in the Banquetting-house, see all the blanks told over, that they may not exceed their number; and that the papers on which the prizes are to be written shall be rolled up in his presence; and that a child, appointed either by his majesty or the adventurers, shall draw the prizes.”--What would be said now, if his present majesty were to be employed in sorting, folding, and counting the blanks and prizes in the present lottery?
About 1709, there was the Greenwich Hospital Adventure, sanctioned by an act of parliament, which the managers describe as “liable to none of the objections made against other lotteries, as to the fairness of the drawing, it not being possible there should be any deceit in it, as it has been suspected in others.”--Likewise there was Mr. Sydenham’s Land Lottery, who declared it was “found very difficult and troublesome for the adventurers for to search and find out what prizes they have come up in their number-tickets, from the badness of the print, the many errors in them, and the great quantity of prizes.”--The Twelve-penny, or Nonsuch, and the Fortunatus lotteries, also flourished at the commencement of the eighteenth century.[448]
LOTTERY OF DEER.
In May, 1715, the proprietors of Sion gardens advertised the following singular method of selling deer from their park. They appointed the afternoons of Mondays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, for killing those animals; when the public were admitted at one shilling each to see the operation, or they might purchase tickets from four to ten shillings, which entitled them, it is supposed, by way of lottery, to different parts of the beast,--as they say the quantity killed was to be divided into sixteen lots, and the first choice to be governed by the numbers on the tickets: a ten shilling ticket was entitled to a fillet; eight, a shoulder; seven, a loin, &c. If the full price of the deer was not received on a given day, the keeper held the money till that sum was obtained. They offered to sell whole deer, and to purchase as many as might be offered.[449]
HARBURGH LOTTERY.
In 1723, the resentment of the house of commons was directed against the scheme of a lottery to be drawn at Harburgh, a town of Hanover on the Elbe, opposite Hamburgh, in the king’s German dominions. A committee inquired into this and other lotteries at that time on foot in London. The scheme pretended to raise a subscription for maintaining a trade between Great Britain and the king’s territories on the Elbe. It was a mysterious scene of iniquity, which the committee, with all their penetration, could not fully discover; but they reported, that it was an infamous, fraudulent undertaking, whereby many unwary persons had been drawn in, to their great loss: that the manner of carrying it on had been a manifest violation of the laws of the kingdom: that the managers and agents of this lottery had, without any authority, made use of his majesty’s royal name to countenance the infamous project, and induce his majesty’s subjects to engage or be concerned therein. A bill was brought in to suppress this lottery, and to oblige its managers to make restitution of the money they had received from the contributors. At the same time the house resolved, That John lord viscount Barrington had been notoriously guilty of promoting, abetting, and carrying on the fraudulent undertaking; for which offence he should be expelled the house.[450]
BANK CLERKS’ FINESSE.
On the 31st of August, 1731, a scene was presented which strongly marks the infatuation and ignorance of lottery adventurers. The tickets for the State Lottery were delivered out to the subscribers at the Bank of England; when the crowd becoming so great as to obstruct the clerks, they told them, “We deliver blanks to-day, but to-morrow we shall deliver prizes;” upon which many, who were by no means for blanks, retired, and by this bold stratagem the clerks obtained room to proceed in their business. In this lottery “her majesty presented his royal highness the duke with ten tickets.”[451]
LOVE, DEATH, AND THE LOTTERY.
Early in the reign of George II., the footman of a lady of quality, under the absurd infatuation of a dream, disposed of the savings of the last twenty years of his life in two lottery tickets, which proving blanks, after a few melancholy days, he put an end to his life. In his box was found the following plan of the manner in which he should spend the five thousand pound prize, which his mistress preserved as a curiosity:--
“As soon as I have received the money, I will marry Grace Towers; but, as she has been cross and coy, I will use her as a servant. Every morning she shall get me a mug of strong beer, with a toast, nutmeg, and sugar in it; then I will sleep till ten, after which I will have a large sack posset. My dinner shall be on table by one, and never without a good pudding. I will have a stock of wine and brandy laid in. About five in the afternoon I will have tarts and jellies, and a gallon bowl of punch; at ten, a hot supper of two dishes. If I am in a good-humour, and Grace behaves herself, she shall sit down with me. To bed about twelve.”[452]
FIELDING’S FARCE.
In 1731, Henry Fielding wrote a farce for Drury-lane Theatre, called “The Lottery,” to which, in 1732, he added a new scene. This pleasant representation of characters usually influenced to speculate in such schemes, was acted with considerable success, especially about the time when the lottery was drawn at Guildhall, and may well be conceived as calculated to abate the popular furor. It opens with a lottery-office keeper--
Mr. Stocks, alone.
AIR.
A Lottery is a Taxation, Upon all the Fools in Creation; And, Heaven be prais’d, It is easily rais’d, Credulity’s always in Fashion: For Folly’s a Fund Will never lose Ground, While Fools are so rife in the Nation.
[Knocking without.
Enter 1 Buyer.
1 Buy. Is not this a House where People buy Lottery Tickets?
Stoc. Yes, Sir--I believe I can furnish you with as good Tickets as any one.
1 Buy. I suppose, Sir, ’tis all one to you what Number a Man fixes on.
Stoc. Any of my Numbers.
1 Buy. Because I would be glad to have it, Sir, the Number of my own Years, or my Wife’s; or, if I cou’d not have either of those, I wou’d be glad to have it the Number of my Mother’s.
Stoc. Ay, or suppose, now, it was the Number of your Grandmother’s?
1 Buy. No, no! She has no Luck in Lotteries: She had a whole Ticket once, and got but fifty Pounds by it.
Stoc. A very unfortunate Person, truly. Sir, my Clerk will furnish you, if you’ll walk that way up to the office. Ha, ha, ha!--There’s one 10,000_l._ got!--What an abundance of imaginary rich men will one month reduce to their former Poverty. [Knocking without.] Come in.
Enter 2 Buyer.
2 Buy. Does not your Worship let Horses, Sir?
Stoc. Ay, Friend.
2 Buy. I have got a little Money by driving a Hackney-Coach, and I intend to ride it out in the Lottery.
Stoc. You are in the right, it is the way to drive your own Coach.
2 Buy. I don’t know, Sir, that--but I am willing to be in Fortune’s way, as the saying is.
Stoc. You are a wise Man, and it is not impossible but you may be a rich one--’tis not above--no matter, how many to one, but that you are this Night worth 10,000_l._
2 Buy. An belike you, Sir, I wou’d willingly ride upon the Number of my Coach.
Stoc. Mr. Trick, let that Gentleman the Number of his Coach--[Aside.] No matter whether we have it, or no.--As the Gentleman is riding to a Castle in the Air, an airy Horse is the properest to carry him. [Knocking hard without.] Heyday! this is some Person of Quality, by the Impudence of the Footman.
Enter Lady.
Lady. Your Servant, Mr. Stocks.
Stoc. I am your Ladyship’s most obedient Servant.
Lady. I am come to buy some Tickets, and hire some Horses, Mr. Stocks--I intend to have twenty Tickets, and ten Horses every Day.
Stoc. By which, if your Ladyship has any Luck, you may very easily get 30 or 40,000_l._
Lady. Please to look at those Jewels, Sir--they cost my Lord upwards of 6000_l._--I intend to lay out what you will lend upon ’em.
[Knocking without.
Stoc. If your Ladyship pleases to walk up into the Dining-Room, I’ll wait on you in a Moment.
[Chloe, a lady, holding an undrawn Lottery Ticket, which, from what a fortune-teller told her, what she saw in a coffee dish, and what she dreamt every night, she is confident would come up a prize of ten thousand pounds, desires to consult Mr. Stocks as to how she should lay out the money.]
Enter Stocks.
Stoc. I had the Honour of receiving your Commands, Madam.
Chloe. Sir, your humble Servant--Your Name is Mr. Stocks, I suppose.
Stoc. So I am call’d in the Alley, Madam; a Name, tho’ I say it, which wou’d be as well receiv’d at the Bottom of a Piece of Paper, as any He’s in the Kingdom. But if I mistake not, Madam, you wou’d be instructed how to dispose of 10,000_l._
Chloe. I wou’d so, Sir.
Stoc. Why, Madam, you know, at present, Publick Interest is very low, and private Securities very difficult to get--and I am sorry to say, I am afraid there are some in the Alley who are not the honestest Men in the Kingdom. In short, there is one way to dispose of Money with Safety and Advantage, and that is--to put it into the Charitable Corporation.
Chloe. The Charitable Corporation! pray what is that?
Stoc. That is, Madam, a method, invented by some very wise Men, by which the Rich may be charitable to the Poor, and be Money in Pocket by it.
THE CHARITABLE CORPORATION.
This company, erected in 1707, professed to lend money at legal interest to the poor upon small pledges; and to persons of better rank upon security of goods impawned. Their capital, at first limited to £30,000, was by licenses from the crown increased to £600,000, though their charter was never confirmed by act of parliament. In 1731, George Robinson, esquire, member for Marlow, the cashier, and John Thompson, warehouse-keeper of the corporation, disappeared in one day. The alarmed proprietors held several general courts, and appointed a committee to inspect their affairs, who reported, that for a capital of above £500,000 no equivalent was found; inasmuch as their effects did not amount to the value of £30,000, the remainder having been embezzled. The proprietors, in a petition to the house of commons, represented that, by a notorious breach of trust, the corporation had been defrauded of the greatest part of their capital; and that many of the petitioners were reduced to the utmost misery and distress: they therefore prayed parliament to inquire into the state of the corporation, and the conduct of their managers, and extend relief to the petitioners. On this petition a secret committee was appointed, who soon discovered a most iniquitous scene of fraud, perpetrated by Robinson and Thompson, in concert with some of the directors, for embezzling the capital, and cheating the proprietors. Many persons of rank and quality were concerned in this infamous conspiracy. Sir Robert Sutton and sir Archibald Grant were expelled the house of commons, as having had a considerable share in those fraudulent practices, and a bill was brought in to restrain them and other delinquents from leaving the kingdom, or alienating their effects.[453] In 1733, parliament granted a lottery in behalf of the sufferers. On the 1st of August in that year, books were opened at the bank to receive, from those who had given in their names, the first payment of one pound per ticket in the “Lottery for the relief of the Charitable Corporation;”[454] and in 1734 “it was distributed among them, amounting to nine shillings and ninepence in the pound on their loss.”[455]
* * * * *
The “London Journal” of October 30, 1731, observing on the general disposition to adventure says:--
The natural life of man is labour or business; riches is an unnatural state; and therefore generally a state of misery. Life, which is a drug in the hands of idle men, never hangs heavily on the hands of merchants and tradesmen, who judiciously divide their time between the city and country.
This is so true, that a wise man would never leave his children so much money as to put them beyond industry; for that is too often putting them beyond happiness. The heaping up riches for posterity is, generally speaking, heaping up destruction; and entailing of large estates, entailing vice and misery.
These thoughts were occasioned by the present state lottery; which plainly discovers that the people would run into the excesses of the South Sea year, had they the same opportunities. The spring and source of this unreasonable passion, is the luxury of the age. Tradesmen commence gentlemen and men of pleasure, when they should be men of business; and begin where they should end. This sets them a madding after lotteries; business is neglected, and poverty, vice, and misery spread among the people. It is hoped that the Parliament will never come into another lottery. All other gaming should be also discouraged. Who but laments that unfortunate young lady at the Bath, who was ruined by gaming, and rather than submit to a mean dependance, thought it best to resign her life?[456]
The tone of dissuasion from lotteries and gambling in the year 1731, prevails through the writings of the different persons who opposed such schemes and practices. The story of the “unfortunate young lady at the Bath, who was ruined by gaming,” referred to in the last paragraph, and already related in this work, is exceedingly affecting.
WESTMINSTER BRIDGE LOTTERY.
In the 9th year of George II. parliament passed an act for building this bridge by a lottery, and the following scheme was issued to the public:--
LOTTERY 1736, for raising 100000l. for building a Bridge at Westminster, consisting of 125000 Tickets, at 5l. each.
Prizes 1 -- of -- 20000_l._ -- is -- 20000_l._ 2 -------- 10000 -------- 20000 3 -------- 5000 -------- 15000 10 -------- 3000 -------- 30000 40 -------- 1000 -------- 40000 60 -------- 500 -------- 30000 100 -------- 200 -------- 20000 200 -------- 100 -------- 20000 400 -------- 50 -------- 20000 1000 -------- 20 -------- 20000 28800 -------- 10 -------- 288000 ----- ------ 30616 Prizes, amounting to -- -- 523000 94384 Blanks. First Drawn -- -- -- -- 1000 Last Drawn -- -- -- -- 1000 ------ ------ 125000 525000 ------ ------
The Prizes to be paid at the Bank in 40 Days after Drawing, without Deduction. N.B. There is little more than Three Blanks to a Prize.[457]
Parliament granted successive lotteries for the building and completion of Westminster-bridge.
AN ORGAN LOTTERY.
In 1737, Horace Walpole (Lord Orford) says, “I am now in pursuit of getting the finest piece of music that ever was heard; it is a thing that will play eight tunes. Handel and all the great musicians say, that it is beyond any thing they can do; and this may be performed by the most ignorant person; and when you are weary of those eight tunes, you may have them changed for any other that you like. This I think much better than going to an Italian opera, or an assembly. This performance has been lately put into a Lottery, and all the royal family chose to have a great many tickets, rather than to buy it, the price being I think 1000_l._, infinitely a less sum than some bishopricks have been sold for. And a gentleman won it, who I am in hopes will sell it, and if he will, I will buy it, for I cannot live to have another made, and I will carry it into the country with me.”
* * * * *
In the State Lottery of 1739, tickets, chances, and shares were “bought and sold by Richard Shergold, printer to the honourable the commissioners of the Lottery, at his office at the Union Coffee-house over and against the Royal Exchange, Cornhill.” He advertised, that he kept numerical books during the drawing, and a book wherein buyers might register their numbers at sixpence each; that 15 per cent. was to be deducted out of the prizes, which were to be paid at the bank in fifty days after the drawing was finished; and that “schemes in French and English” were given gratis.[458]
The per centage to be deducted from the prizes in this lottery occasioned the following
EPIGRAM.
This lottery can never thrive, Was broker heard to say, For who but fools will ever give Fifteen per cent to play.
A sage, with his accustomed grin, Replies, I’ll stake my doom, That if but half the fools come in The wise will find no room.[459]
LOTTERY AT STATIONERS’ HALL.
On the 23d of November, 1741, “the drawing of the Bridge Lottery began at Stationers’ Hall.--The Craftsman of the 28th says, that every 100,000_l._ laid out in a lottery puts a stop to the circulation of at least 300,000_l._, and occasions almost a total suppression of trade.”[460]
* * * * *
In June, 1743, “the price of lottery tickets having risen from 10_l._ to 11_l._ 10_s._ some persons, who probably wanted to purchase, published a hint to the unwary adventurers, that they gamed at 50 per cent. loss; paying, at that price, 2_s._ 6_d._ to play for 5_s._; the money played for being only three pound, besides discount and deductions.”[461]
TICKET STUCK IN THE WHEEL.
On the 5th of January, 1774, at the conclusion of drawing the State Lottery at Guildhall, No. 11,053, as the last drawn ticket, was declared to be entitled to the 1000_l._, and was so printed in the paper of benefits by order of the commissioners. It was besides a prize of 100_l._ But after the wheels were carried back to Whitehall and there opened, the ticket No. 72,248 was found sticking in a crevice of the wheel. And, being the next drawn ticket after all the prizes were drawn, was advertised by the commissioners’ order as entitled to the 1000_l._, as the last drawn ticket: “which affair made a great deal of noise.”[462]
A PEER’S SUBSTITUTE FOR LOTTERIES.
On the bill, for a lottery to succeed the preceding, being brought into the house of lords, a peer said, that such measures always were censured by those that saw their nature and their tendency. “They have been considered as legal cheats, by which the ignorant and the rash are defrauded, and the subtle and avaricious often enriched. They have been allowed to divert the people from trade, and to alienate them from useful industry. A man who is uneasy in his circumstances, and idle in his disposition, collects the remains of his fortune, and buys tickets in a lottery, retires from business, indulges himself in laziness, and waits, in some obscure place, the event of his adventure. Another, instead of employing his stock in a shop or a warehouse, rents a garret in a private street, and make it his business, by false intelligence, and chimerical alarms, to raise and sink the price of tickets alternately, and takes advantage of the lies which he has himself invented. If I, my lords, might presume to recommend to our ministers the most probable method of raising a large sum for the payment of the troops of the electorate, I should, instead of the tax and lottery now proposed, advise them to establish a certain number of licensed wheel-barrows, on which the laudable trade of thimble and button might be carried on for the support of the war, and shoe-boys might contribute to the defence of the house of Austria, by raffling for apples.”
CHANCES OF TICKETS.
The State Lottery of 1751 seems to have encountered considerable opposition. There is a discouraging notice in the “Gentleman’s Magazine” on the 4th of July in that year, that “those inclined to become adventurers in the present lottery were cautioned in the papers to wait some time before they purchased tickets, whereby the jobbers would be disappointed of their market, and obliged to sell at a lower price. At the present rate of tickets the adventurer plays at 35 per cent. loss.”
In the next month, August, the “London Magazine” exhibited the following computation.
IN THE LOTTERY 1751, IT IS
69998 to 2 or 34999 to 1 against a £10000 prize. 69994 to 6 or 11665 to 1 against a 5000 or upwards. 69989 to 11 or 6363 to 1 against a 3000 69981 to 19 or 3683 to 1 against a 2000 69961 to 39 or 1794 to 1 against a 1000 69920 to 80 or 874 to 1 against a 500 69720 to 280 or 249 to 1 against a 100 69300 to 700 or 99 to 1 against a 50 60000 to 10000 or 6 to 1 against a 20 or any prize.
The writer says, I would beg the favour of all gentlemen, tradesmen, and others, to take the pains to explain to such as any way depend upon their judgment, that one must buy no less than seven tickets to have an even chance for any prize at all; that with only one ticket, it is six to one, and with half a ticket, twelve to one against any prize; and ninety-nine or a hundred to one that the prize, if it comes, will not be above fifty pounds; and no less than thirty-five thousand to one that the owner of a single ticket will not obtain one of the greatest prizes. No lottery is proper for persons of very small fortunes, to whom the loss of five or six pounds is of great consequence, besides the disturbance of their minds; much less is it advisable or desirable for either poor or rich to contribute to the exorbitant tax of more than two hundred thousand pounds, which the first engrossers of lottery tickets, and the brokers and dealers strive to raise, out of the pockets of the poor chiefly, and the silly rich partly, by artfully enhancing the price of tickets above the original cost.
The prices of tickets in this lottery was ten pounds. On their rise a Mr. Holland publicly offered to lay four hundred guineas, that four hundred tickets, when drawn, did not amount to nine pounds fifteen shillings on an average, prizes and blanks; his advertisement was never answered.
These animadversions on the scheme, and the resistance offered to the endeavours of the brokers and dealers to effect a rise in the price of tickets, appear, from the following lines published in October, to have been to a certain degree successful--
A NEW SONG
From ‘Change-alley, occasioned by a stagnation of the sale of Lottery Tickets.
While guineas were plenty, we thought we might rise, Nor dreamt of a magpye to pick out our eyes; ’Twas twelve would have satisfy’d all our desire, Tho’ perhaps without pain we might see them mount higher. Derry down, down, down derry, &c.
How sweet were the pickings we formerly gain’d, From whence our fine daughters their fortunes obtain’d! In our coaches can roll, at the public can smile, Whose follies reward all our labour and toil. Derry down, &c.
Then let them spin out their fine scheme as they will, No horseshoe nor magpye shall baffle our skill; In triumph we’ll ride, and, in spite of the rout, Our point we’ll obtain without wheeling about. Derry down, &c.
Tho’ sturdy these beggars, yet weak are their brains; Who offer to check us, must smart for their pains; In concert united, we’ll laugh at the tribe, Who play off their engines to damp all our pride. Derry down, &c.
Let Holland no longer appear with his brags, His four hundred guineas keep safe in his bags, Nor think we’re such fools to risque any thing down, By way of a wager to humour the town. Derry down, &c.[463]
* * * * *
On the 11th of the next month, November, the drawing of the State Lottery began, when, notwithstanding the united efforts of several societies and public-spirited gentlemen to check the exorbitancy of the ticket-mongers, the price rose to sixteen guineas just before drawing. All means were tried to cure this infatuation by writing and advertising; particularly on the first day of drawing, it was publicly averred, that near eight thousand tickets were in the South Sea House, and upwards of thirty thousand pawned at bankers, &c. that nine out of ten of the ticket-holders were not able to go into the wheel; and that not one of them durst stand the drawing above six days. It was also demonstrated in the clearest manner, that to have an even chance for any prize a person must have seven tickets; that with only one ticket it was six to one; and ninety-nine to one that the prize, if it came, would not be above fifty pounds, and no less than thirty-five thousand to one that the owner of a single ticket would not obtain one of the greatest prizes.--Yet, notwithstanding these and other precautions, people still suffered themselves to be deluded, and the monied men arrogantly triumphed.[464]
A LOTTERY JOB IN IRELAND.
In August, 1752, a lottery was set on foot at Dublin, under the pretext of raising 13,700_l._ for rebuilding Essex-bridge, and other public and charitable uses. There were to be 100,000 tickets, at a guinea each. The lords justices of Ireland issued an order to suppress this lottery. The measure occasioned a great uproar in Dublin; for it appears, that the tickets bore a premium, and that though the original subscribers were to have their money returned, the buyers at the advanced price would lose the advance. Every purchaser of a single ticket in this illegal lottery incurred a penalty of 50_l._ for each offence, and the seller 500_l._, one third of which went to the informer, a third to the king, and the other third to the poor of the parish; besides which, the offenders were subject to a year’s close imprisonment in the county gaol.[465]
LEHEUP’S FRAUD.
To prevent the monopoly of tickets in the State Lottery, it had been enacted, that persons charged with the delivery of tickets should not sell more than twenty to one person. This provision was evaded by pretended lists, which defeated the object of parliament and injured public credit, insomuch that, in 1754, more tickets were subscribed for than the holders of the lists had cash to purchase, and there was a deficiency in the first payment. The mischief and notoriety of these practices occasioned the house of commons to prosecute an inquiry into the circumstances, which, though opposed by a scandalous cabal, who endeavoured to screen the delinquents, ended in a report by the committee, that Peter Leheup, esq. had privately disposed of a great number of tickets before the office was opened to which the public were directed by an advertisement to apply; that he also delivered great numbers to particular persons, upon lists of names which he knew to be fictitious; and that, in particular, Sampson Gideon became proprietor of more than six thousand, which he sold at a premium. Upon report of these and other illegal acts, the house resolved that Leheup was guilty of a violation of the act, and a breach of trust, and presented an address to his majesty, praying that he would direct the attorney-general to prosecute him in the most effectual manner for his offences.
An information was accordingly filed, and, on a trial at bar in the court of king’s bench, Leheup, as one of the receivers of the last lottery of 300,000_l._, was found guilty: 1. Of receiving subscriptions before the day and hour advertised; 2. Of permitting the subscribers to use different names to cover an excess of twenty tickets; and 3. Of disposing of the tickets which had been bespoke and not claimed, or were double charged, instead of returning them to the managers. In Trinity term, Leheup was brought up for judgment, and fined 1000_l._, which he paid in court. As he had amassed forty times that sum by his frauds, the lenity of the sentence was the subject of severe remark.[466]
LOTTERY INSANITY.
November 5, 1757, Mr. Keys, late clerk to Cotton and Co., who had absented himself ever since the 7th of October, the day the 10,000_l._ was drawn in the lottery, (supposed to be his property,) was found in the streets raving mad, having been robbed of his pocket-book and ticket.[467]
* * * * *
The subjoined verses appeared in 1761:[468]--
A few Thoughts on Lotteries.
A Lottery, like a magic spell, All ranks of men bewitches, Whose beating bosoms vainly swell With hopes of sudden riches:
With hope to gain TEN THOUSAND POUND How many post to ruin, And for an empty, airy sound Contrive their own undoing!
Those on whom wealth her stores had shed, May firmly bear their crosses; But they who earn their daily bread, Oft sink beneath their losses.
’Tis strange, so many fools we find, By tickets thus deluded, And, by a trifling turn of mind, From life’s blest bliss excluded.
For life’s best blessing, calm content, Attends no more his slumbers, Who dreams of profit, cent. per cent. And sets his heart on numbers.
Thro’ all life’s various stages, care Our peace will oft disquiet; Like a free-gift it comes, we ne’er Need be in haste to buy it.
He who, intent on shadowy schemes, By them is deeply bubbled, Deserves to wake from golden dreams, With disappointment doubled.
Unmoved by Fortune’s fickle wheel, The wise man chance despises; And Prudence courts with fervent zeal-- She gives the highest prizes.
LARGE DIVISION OF TICKETS.
In some of the old lotteries tickets were divided into a much greater number of shares than of late years. There is an example of this in the following
Advertisement, November, 1766.
DAME FORTUNE presents her respects to the public, and assures them that she has fixed her residence for the present at CORBETT’S, State Lottery-office, opposite St. Dunstan’s-church, Fleet-street; and, to enable many families to partake of her favours, she has ordered not only the tickets to be sold at the lowest prices, but also that they be divided into shares at the following low rates, viz:--
£ s. d. A sixty-fourth 0 4 0 Thirty-second 0 7 6 Sixteenth 0 15 0 An eighth 1 10 0 A Fourth 3 0 0 A half 6 0 0
By which may be gained from upwards of one hundred and fifty to upwards of five thousand guineas, at her said office No. 30.
A NUMBER TWICE SOLD.
The lottery of 1766 was unfortunate to a lottery-office keeper. The ticket No. 20,99 was purchased in the alley for Pagen Hale, esq. of Hertfordshire; and the same number was also divided into shares at a lottery-office near Charing-cross, and some of the shares actually sold. The number purchased in the alley was the real number, but that divided by the office-keeper was done by mistake, for which he paid a proportionable sum.
* * * * *
During the lottery of 1767, the stockbrokers fell among thieves. Mr. Hugnes, a stock-broker, had his pocket picked in Jonathan’s coffee-house of fifty lottery tickets, the value of which (at the price then sold) was 800_l._ The same evening three other brokers had their pockets picked of their purses, one containing sixty-two guineas, another seven, and the third five. One of the pick-pockets was afterwards apprehended, on whom thirty-five of the tickets were found, and recovered; the other fifteen he said were carried to Holland by his accomplices.
* * * * *
The preceding anecdotes are in the newspapers of the time, together with the following, which strongly marks the perversion of a weak mind. “A gentlewoman in Holborn, whose husband had presented her with a ticket, put up prayers in the church, the day before drawing, in the following manner: The prayers of the congregation are desired for the success of a person engaged in a new undertaking.”
A FRAUDULENT INSURER.
In January, 1768, an insurer of tickets was summoned before a magistrate, for refusing to pay thirty guineas to an adventurer, upon the coming up of a certain number a blank, for which he had paid a premium of three guineas. The insurer was ordered immediately to pay thirty guineas, which he was obliged to comply with to prevent worse consequences.[469] In other words, the magistrate was too weak to exert the power he was armed with, by law, against both the insurer and the insured.
LOVE TICKETS.
Mr. Charles Holland, the actor, who died on the 7th of December, 1769, received many letters of passionate admiration from a lady who fell in love with him from his appearance on the stage; and she accompanied one of her declarations of attachment by four lottery tickets as a present.[470]
GOOD AND ILL LUCK.
In the lottery of 1770, the holder of the ticket entitled to the capital prize or 20,000_l._ was captain Towry of Isleworth. A very remarkable circumstance put it in his possession: Mr. Barnes, a grocer in Cheapside, purchased four following numbers, one of which this was; but thinking the chance not so great in so many following ones, he carried this very ticket back to the office, and changed it for another.
A LITTLE GO.
October 14, 1770, a case was determined at the general quarter session of the peace for the county of Wilts, held at Marlborough. A quack doctor had been convicted before Thomas Johnson, esq. of Bradford, in the penalty of 200_l._ for disposing of plate, &c. by means of a device or lottery; and by a second information convicted of the same offence before Joseph Mortimer, esq. of Trowbridge. To both these convictions he appealed to the justices at the general quarter session of the peace, when, after a trial of near ten hours, the bench unanimously confirmed the conviction on both informations, by which the appellant was subjected to the penalties of 200_l._ on each, and costs.[471]
INSURANCE CAUSE.
On the 1st of March, 1773, a cause of great public concern came on to be tried before lord Mansfield, at Guildhall, wherein the lord mayor was plaintiff, and Messrs. Barnes and Golightly were defendants, in order to determine the legality of insuring lottery tickets; but on account of an error in the declaration the plaintiff was nonsuited.
On the 17th of the same month, “Mr. Sheriff Lewes presented a petition from the city of London, against the frequent toleration of lotteries in the time of peace; but the petition was ordered to lie upon the table.--No government can long subsist, that is reduced to the necessity of supporting itself by fraudulent gaming.”[472]
TRICKS OF AN INSURER.
June 26, 1775, a cause came on in the court of common pleas, Guildhall, between a gentleman, plaintiff, and a lottery-office keeper of this city, defendant; the cause of this action was as follows: the gentleman, passing by the lottery-office, observed a woman and boy crying, on which he asked the reason of their tears; they informed him, that they had insured a number in the lottery on the over night, and, upon inquiry at another office, found it to have been drawn five days before, and therefore wanted their money returned; the gentleman, taking their part, was assaulted and beat by the office-keeper, for which the jury gave a verdict in favour of the gentleman with five pounds damages.[473]
PROCEEDINGS RESPECTING A BLUE-COAT BOY.
In 1775, some of the boys of Christ’s Hospital, appointed to draw numbers and chances from the wheel, were tampered with, for the purpose of inducing them to commit a fraud. These attempts were successful in one instance, and led to certain regulations, which will presently be stated.
On the 1st of June, a man was carried before the lord mayor for attempting to bribe the two blue-coat boys who drew the Museum Lottery at Guildhall to conceal a ticket, and to bring it to him, promising that he would next day return it to them. His intention was to insure it in all the offices, with a view to defraud the office-keepers. The boys were honest, gave notice of the intended fraud, and pointed out the delinquent, who, however, was discharged, as there existed no law to punish the offence.
On the 5th of December, one of the blue-coat boys who drew the numbers in the State Lottery at Guildhall was examined before sir Charles Asgill, relative to a number that had been drawn out the Friday before, on which an insurance had been made in almost every office in London. The boy confessed, that he was prevailed upon to conceal the ticket No. 21,481, by a man who gave him money for so doing; that the man copied the number; and that the next day he followed the man’s instructions, and put his hand into the wheel as usual, with the ticket in it, and then pretended to draw it out. The instigator of the offence had actually received 400_l._ of the insurance-office keepers; had all of them paid him, the whole sum would have amounted to 3000_l._ but some of them suspected a fraud had been committed, and caused the inquiry, which obtained the boy’s confession.
On the following day, the person who insured the ticket was examined. He was clerk to a hop-factor in Goodman’s-fields, but not being the person who seduced the boy to secrete the ticket, and no evidence appearing to prove his connection with the person who did, the prisoner was discharged, though it was ascertained that he had insured the number already mentioned ninety-one times in one day.[474]
In consequence of the circumstances discovered by this examination, the lords of the treasury inquired further, and deliberated on the means of preventing similar practices; the result of their conferences was the following “Orders,” which are extracted from the original minutes of the proceedings, and are now for the first time published.
COPY, No. I.
ORDER of December 12, 1775.
A DISCOVERY having been made, that WILLIAM TRAMPLET, one of the boys employed in drawing the lottery, had, at the instigation of one CHARLES LOWNDES, (since absconded,) at different times, in former rolls taken out of the number wheel THREE numbered tickets, which were at THREE several times returned by him into the said wheel, and drawn without his parting with them, so as to give them the appearance of being fairly drawn, to answer the purpose of defrauding by insurance:
IT IS THEREFORE ORDERED, for preventing the like wicked practices in future, that every boy before he is suffered to put his hand into either wheel, be brought by the proclaimer to the managers on duty, for them to see that the bosoms and sleeves of his coat be closely buttoned, his pockets sewed up, and his hands examined; and that during the time of his being on duty, he shall keep his left hand in his girdle behind him, and his right hand open, with his fingers extended; and the proclaimer is not to suffer him at any time to leave the wheel without being first examined by the manager nearest him.
The observance of the foregoing order is recommended by the managers on this roll to those on the succeeding rolls, till the matter shall be more fully discussed at a general meeting.
COPY, No. II.
ORDER at GENERAL MEETING.
A PLAN OF RULES AND REGULATIONS to be observed, in order to prevent the boys committing frauds, &c., in the drawing of the lottery, agreeable to directions received by Mr. JOHNSON, on Tuesday the 16th of January, 1776, from the LORDS OF THE TREASURY.
THAT ten managers be always on the roll at Guildhall, two of whom are to be conveniently placed opposite the two boys at the wheels, in order to observe that they strictly conform themselves to the rules and orders directed by the committee at Guildhall, on Tuesday, December 12, 1775.
THAT it be requested of the TREASURER OF CHRIST’S HOSPITAL not to make known who are the twelve boys nominated for drawing the lottery till the morning the drawing begins; which said boys are all to attend every day, and the two who are to go on duty at the wheels are to be taken promiscuously from amongst the whole number by either of the secretaries, without observing any regular course or order; so that no boy shall know when it will be his turn to go to either wheel.
THIS METHOD, though attended with considerable additional expense, by the extra attendance of two managers and six boys, will, it is presumed, effectually prevent any attempt being made to corrupt or bribe any of the boys to commit the fraud practised in the last lottery.
* * * * *
It is imagined, that to future inquirers concerning lotteries, with a view to its history, the publication of the preceding documents may be acceptable. So long a time has elapsed since the fraud they relate to was perpetrated, that any motive which existed for keeping them private has ceased. The blue-coat boy who secretly abstracted the tickets from the wheel, and afterwards appeared to draw them fairly and openly, will be regarded as having been pitiably exposed to seductions, which might have been prevented if these regulations had been adopted on the complaint of the lad who was tampered with in June. Perhaps it was prudent, though not “quite correct,” to conceal that three tickets had been improperly taken from the wheel: until now, it has not been publicly made known that there was more than one; and though, if the point had been tried, that one might have been sufficient to have vitiated the legality of the drawing of the lottery of 1775 altogether, it was not enough, in a popular view, to raise a hue-and-cry among the unfortunate holders against the disturbance of their chances. The concealment of three might have congregated the unsuccessful adventurers of the three kingdoms into an uproar, “one and indivisible,” which, with the law on their side, would have exceedingly puzzled the then lords of the treasury to subdue, without ordering the lottery to have been drawn over again, and raising a fresh clamour among the holders of tickets that had been declared prizes.
LOTTERY SUICIDE.
On the 10th of January, 1777, “a young man, clerk to a merchant in the city, was found in the river below bridge drowned: he had been dabbling in the lottery with his master’s money, and chose this way of settling his accounts.”[475]
A BLANK MADE A PRIZE.
In January, 1777, Joseph Arones and Samuel Noah, two jews, were examined at Guildhall before the lord mayor, charged with counterfeiting the lottery ticket No. 25,590, a prize of 2000_l._, with intent to defraud Mr. Keyser, an office-keeper, knowing the same to have been false and counterfeit. Mr. Keyser had examined the ticket carefully, and had taken it into the Stock-exchange to sell, when Mr. Shewell came into the same box, and desired to look at the ticket, having, as he recollected, purchased one of the same number a day or two before. This fortunate discovery laid open the fraud, and the two jews were committed to take their trial for their ingenuity. It was so artfully altered from 23,590, that not the least erasure could be discerned. Arones was but just come to England, and Noah was thought to be a man of property.
In February following, Arones and Noah were tried at the Old Bailey for the forgery and fraud. Their defence was, that the prisoner Arones found it, and persons were brought to swear it; on which they were acquitted. The figure altered was so totally obliterated by a certain liquid, that not the least trace of it could be perceived.
At the same sessions, Daniel Denny was tried for forging, counterfeiting, and altering a lottery ticket, with intent to defraud; and, being found guilty, was condemned.[476]
INSURING.
In July, 1778, came on to be tried at Guildhall, before lord Mansfield, a cause, wherein a merchant was plaintiff and a lottery-office keeper defendant. The action was brought for suffering a young man, the plaintiff’s apprentice, to insure with the defendant during the drawing of the last lottery, contrary to the statute; whereby the youth lost a considerable sum, the property of the merchant. The jury without going out of court gave a verdict for the plaintiff, thereby subjecting the defendant to pay 500_l._ penalty, and to three months’ imprisonment.[477]
During the same year, parliament having discussed the evil of insuring, and the mischievous subdivision of the shares of tickets, passed an act “for the regulation of Lottery offices,” in which the principal clauses were as follows--
“To oblige every lottery-office keeper to take out a licence, at the expense of 50_l._, and give security not to infringe any part of the act.
“That no person shall dispose of any part of a ticket in any smaller share or proportion than a sixteenth, on 50_l._ penalty.
“That any person selling goods, wares, or other merchandise, or who shall offer any sum or sums of money, upon any chance or event whatsoever, relating to the drawing of any ticket, shall be liable to a penalty of 20_l._
“To enable the commissioners of his majesty’s treasury to establish an office;--all shares to be stamped at that office;--the original tickets from which such shares are to be taken, to be kept at that office till a certain time after drawing;--books of entry to be regularly kept;--persons carrying shares to be stamped to pay a small sum specified in the act;--penalties for persons selling shares not stamped; and a clause for punishing persons who shall forge the stamp of any ticket.”
In 1779, the drawing of the lottery and the conduct of lottery-office keepers was further regulated by act of parliament.[478]
EVASIONS OF THE INSURERS.
The provisions of parliament against the ruinous practice of insurance were evaded by the dexterity of the lottery-office keepers. In 1781, the following proposals were issued by the cunning, and greedily accepted by the credulous.
I.
November 7, 1781
MODE OF INSURANCE,
Which continues the whole time of drawing the lottery, at CARRICK’S STATE LOTTERY OFFICE, King’s Arms, 72, Threadneedle-street. At one guinea each NUMBERS are taken, to return three twenty pound prizes, value sixty pounds, for every given number that shall be drawn any prize whatever above twenty pounds during the whole drawing.
⁂ Numbers at half a guinea to receive half the above.
II.
J. Cook respectfully solicits the public will favour the following incomparably advantageous plan with attention, by which upwards of thirty-two thousand chances for obtaining a prize (out of the forty-eight thousand tickets) are given in one policy.
POLICIES OF FIVE GUINEAS with three numbers, with the first number will gain
20000 if a prize of £20000 10000 £10000 5000 £ 5000
with the second number will gain
6000 guineas if 20000 3000 10000 1500 5000
with the third number will gain
3000 guineas if 20000 1500 10000 1200 5000
* * * * *
In the lottery act of 1782 there was a clause designed to prevent the insurance of tickets by any method. The lottery-office keepers persisted in their devices, and the magistrates enforced the law.
About the beginning of January 1785 several lottery-office keepers were convicted, before the lord mayor and aldermen, in penalties of fifty pounds each for insuring numbers contrary to law; and in Trinity term the following cause was tried at Westminster, before lord Loughborough.
A lottery-office keeper near Charing-cross was plaintiff, and the sheriff of Middlesex defendant. The action was to recover one thousand five hundred and sixty-six pounds, levied by the sheriff, about a year past, on the plaintiff’s goods, by virtue of three writs of fieri facias, issued from the court of King’s-bench. It seems that the above plaintiff was convicted in three penalties of five hundred pounds each, for insuring lottery tickets; but previous to the trial’s coming on, for some indulgence, he had, by himself or agents, consented not to bring any writ of error, and an order of nisi prius was drawn up, and served upon his attorney; notwithstanding which, three writs of error were sued out. The court of King’s-bench being then moved, made an order that the executions should be levied according to the original rule of court: the sheriff made the levy, and the money being paid and impounded in his hands, the above action was brought to get the same returned. The novelty of the action caused much laughter among the counsel, and, after a few minutes’ hearing, his lordship ordered the plaintiff to be nonsuited.[479]
LOTTERY WOOD CUTS.
It is to be remarked, that at this period engravings on their printed addresses do not seem to have been resorted to by the lottery-schemers as they have been since, for the purpose of stimulating attention to their plans. No subject of the kind therefore can be given, to illustrate their proceedings at the time now under review; but on arriving, as we shall presently, at days nearer our own, they crowd upon us, and several will be given in the next sheet as specimens of their ingenuity and taste.
CHARLES PRICE, alias PATCH, &c.
This man was a lottery-office keeper. His notoriety and his fate render him one of the most remarkable characters of the age wherein he lived; it is therefore proposed to give a brief outline of his life.
His father, Charles Price, was “by trade a tailor.” He came from South Wales, about the year 1702, and worked at several places in London, till in 1710 he got into Monmouth-street, as journeyman to a salesman there. By strict application he was, in a few years, enabled to set up as a master, and kept a saleshop the corner of Earl-street and West-street, Seven Dials. Some time previous to this he had married a woman who bore a very good character. He was very clever in his business, but illiterate; yet exceedingly artful, and the flower of Monmouth-street for oratory in the sale of his goods: at the same time, he was sincere in his friendships, despised downright knavery, and had a regard to reputation. His eldest son, Thomas, was bred to his father’s business. One Creed, a salesman in Rosemary-lane, used to send him with a cart loaded with goods round the country; and Creed dying, Thomas decamped with the produce of one journey, about 200_l._ For this, and for similar acts of knavery in his brother Charles, he left them only a shilling each, and bequeathed the rest of his property to his daughter. Thomas died young.
Charles, the hero of our history, when about six years of age, was sent to school, where he acquired the rudiments of the French language, and was so neglected in his own, that he was complete in neither. At about twelve years’ old he was taken home to assist his father, where he soon gave proofs of address similar to the following.
A sailor who had staggered to Monmouth-street to buy some clothes, was caught by Charles at the corner, and introduced by him into a room, where, in a summer’s noon, it was hardly possible to distinguish blue from black, or green from blue. The honest tar was shown a coat and waistcoat, the real value of which was about two guineas. Though they were considerably too little, Charles squeezed him up, and persuaded him they fitted exactly. The price being demanded, Charles declared upon his honour the lowest farthing he could take was five guineas. The sailor put his hand in his pocket, and laid down the money. Charles stepped down to his father’s journeyman, under pretence of getting something to put the clothes in, and told him the customer he met with, and that he might as well have had six guineas as five. “Do you,” said he, “follow me up stairs, inquire what I have done, pretend to be very angry, swear they cost you six guineas, give me two or three kicks or cuffs, and I dare swear we shall get more money out of him, and then, as my father is not at home, you shall go halves in all we get above the five guineas.” The scheme was readily acquiesced in by the journeyman. Charles slipped up stairs; the journeyman followed, inquiry, blame, and sham blows ensued; the journeyman declared the clothes cost him six guineas out of his pocket, and was going to beat Charles again, when the sailor cried, “Avast, master, don’t beat the boy, if he has made a mistake in a guinea, why here it is;” and laying it down, departed well pleased with his bargain, and that he had saved the lad a drubbing by the insignificant trifle of an additional guinea. Charles gave his father two guineas, the journeyman half a one, and kept three guineas and a half to himself.
The father soon experienced the effects of his son’s knavery, and put him apprentice to a hatter and hosier in St. James’s-street, with a considerable premium, hoping that his conduct would be quite different from what it had been at home; but his master had almost as much reason to complain of him as his father. Among his other frauds was the following: he robbed his father of an elegant suit of clothes, in which he dressed himself and went to his master, of whom he purchased about ten pounds’ worth of silk stockings, leaving his address, Benjamin Bolingbroke, esq., Hanover-square, and ordering them to be sent in an hour’s time, when he would pay the person who brought them. Incredible as it may appear, his master did not know him; to complete the cheat, he came back in half an hour, in his usual dress, and was ordered to take the goods home, which he actually pretended to do, and thus robbed his master. Having been detected in his villainies, he ran away; and his father, in detestation of his principles, disinherited him, soon afterwards died, and was buried at Lambeth. It may be remarked, that he was the first corpse carried over Westminster-bridge, which was on the first day it was free for carriages, when multitudes flocked to see the opening of the new structure.
Before his father’s death, Charles Price became a gentleman’s servant, and in that capacity lived some years, till he got into the service of sir Francis Blake Delaval, went with him the tour of Europe, returned to England, and through sir Francis, who was the companion of the celebrated Samuel Foote, became comedian. He acted a principal part in the scheme by which sir Francis obtained his lady, with a very large fortune. She went to consult a conjuror, and Foote performed the character to the satisfaction of his friend. Price afterwards contrived to conjure Foote out of 500_l._ in a sham scheme in a brewery, wherein that gentleman and Price were concerned. Price was made a bankrupt, and afterwards set up in a distillery, defrauded the revenue, was sent to the King’s-bench, released by an insolvent act, again turned brewer, and defrauded a gentleman out of 6000_l._ through one of his disguises. He then became a lottery-office keeper and stockbroker, gambled in the alley, was ruined, again set up lottery-office keeper, courted a Mrs. Pounteney, and ran away with her niece, who was the daughter of justice Wood, in the Borough. He practised innumerable frauds, became an adept in swindling, and had the effrontery to avow his depredations, and laugh at those he injured.
Price was intimate with a Mr. R----s, a grocer retired from business, with whom he had for a long time passed as a stockbroker. Price, who then lived at Knightsbridge, frequently used to request the favour of Mr. R. to take a bank-note or two into the city, and get them changed into small ones. In this he had a two-fold plot. He informed his friend that he was intimately acquainted with a very old gentleman, exceedingly rich, who had been an eminent broker in the alley, but had long retired; that his monies in the funds were immense; that the only relation he had in the world was one sister, to whom he intended to bequeath the best part of his property; and that his sister was near fifty years of age, had never been married, and determined never to marry; and that it was impossible the old gentleman could live long, as he was very old, very infirm, and almost incapable of going out of doors. This old gentleman, Price said, had often asked him to become his executor; and besought him to recommend another person, in whose fidelity, character, and integrity, he could repose an entire confidence, and that he would make it well worth their while, if they would undertake so friendly and solemn an office.--“Now,” said Price to Mr. R., “here is an opportunity for us to make a considerable sum in a short time, and, in all probability, a very capital fortune in a few years; for the sister being determined not to marry, and having no relations in the world, there is no doubt but she will leave us the whole of the estate; and, after his decease, she will become totally dependent upon us.--I shall see the old gentleman, Mr. Bond, to-day, and if you will join in the trust, the will shall be immediately made.”
To this proposal Mr. R. consented. In the evening Price returned to Knightsbridge. He told Mr. R. that he had visited Mr. Bond, who expressed great happiness and easiness of mind on such a recommendation, and desired to see Mr. R. the next day. Price appointed to meet him at twelve o’clock at Mr. Bond’s. At the appointed hour, Mr. R. knocked at the door. He was shown up stairs by the aforementioned sister-lady, and introduced to Mr. Bond, seated in a great chair, his legs in another, and covered with a night-cap. The poor, infirm, weak, debilitated, old gentleman regretted the absence of his ever-dear friend Mr. Price, the most worthy man in the world, and rang a peal on his friendship, honour, honesty, integrity, &c., &c., accompanied with emaciated coughs--was obliged to go to the city coffee-house--a punctual man--never failed an appointment--it was the soul of business--and then he told Mr. R. that his dear friend desired to meet Mr. R. there exactly at one o’clock--he approved highly of Mr. Price’s recommendation, and was now happy in his mind--it wanted but a quarter to one, he believed, and he hoped Mr. R. would not fail, as his dear friend was very exact indeed. The usual compliments passed; the sister conducted Mr. R. to the door, who posted away to the city coffee-house, and left old Mr. Bond, the rich brother, who was in reality no other than Mr. Price, and the brother’s maiden sister, who was a Mrs. Pounteney, to laugh at Mr. R.’s credulity. Mr. R. had not been five minutes in the coffee-house before he was joined by his friend Price, to whom Mr. R. recapitulated what passed, and as soon as Price had despatched some pretended business, he proposed calling on Mr. Bond. This was readily acquiesced in by Mr. R. and away they drove to Leather-lane. When they came there, they were informed by the lady, that her brother was just gone out in a coach, on an airing, to Highgate. In short, Price carried on the scheme completely for several days, during which time Mr. R. had twice or thrice seen the old gentleman. The will was made, and, on the strength of the joint executorship and expectancy, Mr. R. was swindled out of very near a thousand pounds in cash, and bonds to the amount of two hundred pounds.
Another anecdote, though it does not exhibit him in his Proteus-like character, exemplifies his cunning and selfishness. He had formed a connection with Mr. W----, a brewer, a man of character. Price, who was then in the brewery, proposed a project, which was assented to, for purchasing hops to the amount of two thousand pounds, and he actually went into the country, contracted for hops to that amount with hop-growers in Kent, and then applied to Mr. W. for the two thousand pounds, alledging that there would be a sudden rise of hops, and they could not be delivered too soon; and that Mr. W. should have his share of the profit. From some undisclosed motive, Mr. W. refused to advance the money. An unexpected rise, however, did soon after take place, Price went into Kent to demand delivery, the growers were shy in delivering, especially as they found they had made a bad bargain, and he gained two hundred pounds for releasing them.
Price was servile to extreme meanness, where his servility could be recompensed by a shilling. He was master of consummate effrontery, when principle called upon him for that shilling, if it was unsupported by law. He never paid but with an eye to further plunder; and then he abounded in that species of flattery distinguished under the word palaver. He possessed an extensive knowledge of men and manners, and to superficial observers appeared a very sensible person. He knew something of most of the living languages; had travelled all over France and Holland, and been at most of the German courts. He was at Copenhagen during the crisis in the fate of the unhappy Matilda queen of Denmark, sister to George III.; and he wrote a pamphlet in her behalf, tending to prove that the true motive for the degrading attack on her character, was to effect a revolution in favour of the queen dowager’s son. It proved him to have an eye directed to the cabals of the court, and an understanding capable of developing its intrigues.
Price’s character about the ’Change in London was well-known--he was a keen, intriguing speculator, well versed in the mystery of the bulls and bears: his head enabled him to make the most accurate calculations, but his heart would not permit him to enjoy the fruit of even his honest labours; for he never would comply with the demands of a fortunate customer, unless terrified into it,--and to terrify him required no small portion of ingenuity and resolution. His dishonesty was the spring of all his misfortunes; it made him shift from place to place to avoid the abuse of the vulgar, and the clamorous calls of the few fortunate adventurers in the lottery. His last office was the corner of King-street, Covent-garden, from whence he was driven, by a run of ill-luck, into a private decampment.
From that period, Price lived in obscurity. Though a perfect sycophant abroad, at home he was an absolute tyrant; nor could a prudent, virtuous woman, endowed with every qualification to render the marriage state happy, soften his brutal disposition, when the ample fortune he obtained with her had been squandered. Having a family of eight children to support, he turned his thoughts to fatal devices, and commenced to forge on the bank of England. His first attack on the bank was about the year 1780, when one of his notes had been taken there, so complete in the engraving, the signature, the water-marks, and all its parts, that it passed through various hands unsuspected, and was not discovered till it came to a certain department, through which no forgery whatever can pass undiscovered. The appearance of this note occasioned a considerable alarm among the directors; and forgery upon forgery flowed in, about the lottery and Christmas times, without the least probability of discovering the first negociators. Various consultations were held, innumerable plans were laid for detection, and they were traced in every quarter to have proceeded from one man, always disguised, and always inaccessible.
Had Price permitted a partner in his proceedings--had he employed an engraver--had he procured paper to be made for him, with water-marks upon it, he must soon have been discovered--but he “was himself alone.” He engraved his own plates, made his own paper with the water-marks, and, as much as possible, he was his own negociator. He thereby confined a secret to himself, which he deemed not safe in the breast of another; even Mrs. Price had not the least knowledge or suspicion of his proceedings. Having practised engraving till he had made himself sufficient master of it, he then made his own ink to prove his own works. He next purchased implements, and manufactured the water-mark, and began to counterfeit hand-writings. Private attempts to discover him proved thoroughly abortive, and the bank came to the resolution of describing the offender by the following public advertisement, which was continued in all the newspapers for a considerable time to no purpose. It is a very curious document, from the minuteness with which his disguise is particularized.
Public-office, Bow-street, Dec. 5, 1780.
A FORGERY.
Whereas a person, answering the following description, stands charged with forging two notes, purporting to be bank-notes, one for forty pounds and the other for twenty pounds, whoever will apprehend him, or give such immediate notice at this office as may be the means of apprehending him, shall receive one hundred pounds’ reward on his commitment.
Or, if any person concerned in the above forgery, (except the person here-under described,) will surrender and discover his or her accomplices, he or she will be admitted an evidence for the crown, and, on conviction of any one offender therein, receive two hundred pounds’ reward.
And if any engraver, paper-maker, mould-maker or printer, can give information of the engraving any plate, making any mould or paper, or printing any note resembling bank-notes, shall receive two hundred pounds’ reward, on conviction of any of the offenders in the above forgery.
He appears about fifty years of age, about five feet six inches high, stout made, very sallow complexion, dark eyes and eye-brows, speaks in general very deliberately, with a foreign accent; has worn a black patch over his left eye, tied with a string round his head, sometimes wears a white wig, his hat flapped before, and nearly so at the sides, a brown camblet great coat, buttons of the same, with a large cape, which he always wears so as to cover the lower part of his face; appears to have very thick legs, which hang over his shoes, as if swelled, his shoes are very broad at the toes, and little narrow old-fashioned silver buckles, black stocking breeches, walks with a short crutch stick with an ivory head, stoops, or affects to stoop very much, and walks slow as if infirm; he has lately hired many hackney-coaches in different parts of the town, and been frequently set down in or near Portland-place, in which neighbourhood it is supposed he lodges.
He is connected with a woman who answers the following description:--She is rather tall, and genteel, thin face and person, about thirty years of age, light hair, rather a yellow cast on her face, and pitted with the small pox, a down-cast look, speaks very slow, sometimes wears a coloured linen jacket and petticoat, and sometimes a white one, a small black bonnet, and a black cloak, and assumes the character of a lady’s maid.
N. B. It is said, that about fifteen months since he lodged at Mrs. Parker’s, No. 40, in Great Titchfield-street, (who is since dead,) at which time he went by the name of Wigmore.
This advertisement drove Price to extremities:--it forced him to refrain from the circulation of his forgeries, and for some months put a total stop to them. It was posted on the walls, and printed as hand-bills, and delivered from house to house throughout the whole of the quarter where he was most suspected to reside; at the very house which he daily resorted to, and where all his implements were fixed; in the neighbourhood of Marybone, Portland-place, Oxford-street, and Tottenham-court-road. One of them was thrown down an area to the only person in whom he placed any confidence, a female whom the reader will be better acquainted with. By these means Price was informed of his immediate danger, and took his measures accordingly. Eagerness to secure banished the foresight and caution which are necessary in the pursuit of artful villany. The animal whose sagacity is a proverb, can never be secured in haste; he must be entrapped by superior patience and caution.
Though Price had no partner in any branch of the forgery of a bank-note, yet he had a confidante in his wife’s aunt, by the mother’s side, whom he had known previous to his marriage. Her name was Pounteney; and, unknown to Mrs. Price, he was daily with her. He divided his dinner-times equally between the two, and Mrs. Price had for ten years’ past, through the impositions of her husband, considered her aunt either as dead, or residing abroad. His wife had too little art, or understanding in the ways of the world, to be what is commonly called cunning. In short, her character was that of perfect simplicity. Price therefore thought her not fit to be trusted. Her aunt, on the contrary, was wily, crafty and capable of executing any plan Price would chalk out for her. She was a woman after his own heart; and having made choice of this woman as an assistant, and his apparatus being ready, he began his operations. He lived then at Paddington with his wife, whom he went to nightly; and at lodgings, near Portland-place, he daily visited her aunt, where the implements for his undertakings were concealed. His next and chief object was a negociator, and he procured one in the following manner.
Previous to the drawing of the lottery for the year 1780, Price put an advertisement into the “Daily Advertiser” for a servant who had been used to live with a single gentleman, and the direction was to “C. C. Marlborough-street coffee-house, Broad-street, Carnaby-market.” An honest young man, who at that time lived with a musical instrument-maker in the Strand, read this advertisement, and sent a letter to the specified address. At the end of a week, one evening, about dusk, a coachman inquired for the person who had answered the advertisement, saying there was a gentleman over the way, in a coach, wanted to speak with him. The young man went to the coach, was desired to step in, and there saw an apparently aged foreigner, gouty, wrapped up with five or six yards of flannel about his legs, a camblet surtout buttoned up over his chin, close to his mouth, a large patch over his left eye, and every part of his face concealed except his nose, right eye, and a small part of that cheek. This person was Price, who caused the young man to sit at his left side, on which eye the patch was; so that Price could take an askance look at him with his right eye, and discover only a small portion of his own face. Thus disguised, he seemed between sixty and seventy years of age, and afterwards, when the man saw him standing, he appeared nearly six feet high, owing to boots or shoes with heels little less than four inches high. To aid the deception, he was so buttoned up and straightened as to appear perfectly lank. Price’s real height was about five feet six inches; he was a compact, neat made man, rather square shouldered, and somewhat inclined to corpulency; his legs were firm and well set. His features assisted his design to look considerably older than he really was; his nose was aquiline, his eyes were small and grey, his mouth stood very much inwards, his lips were very thin, his chin was pointed and prominent, he had a pale complexion, and loss of teeth favoured his disguise of speech. His natural form was exceedingly upright; he was active and quick in his walk, and was what is usually described “a dapper made man.” To the young man, whose christian name was Samuel, Price affected great age, with a faint hectic cough, and so much bodily infirmity as almost to disable him from getting out of the coach. Price told him he was not wanted by himself, but as under servant to a young nobleman of fortune, under age, and then in Bedfordshire, to whom he was, and had been some years, guardian. He inquired into the particulars of Samuel’s life, and thinking him honest and ingenuous, and therefore unsuspicious, and suitable to his purpose, he talked to him about wages. Samuel inquired whether he was to be in livery or not: Price replied, that he could not really tell, for the young nobleman was a very whimsical character, but that was a circumstance which might be settled hereafter. To carry on the farce, he desired Samuel to call his master to the coach to give him a character, and his master came and gave him such an one as Price pretended to approve; he then hired Samuel at eighteen shillings per week, and gave him a direction to himself, as Mr. Brank, at No. 39, Titchfield-street, Oxford-street.
Pursuant to appointment, on the second or third evening afterwards, Samuel went to Titchfield-street, and there entered on the service of the minor nobleman, by waiting on Mr. Brank. Price resumed his discourse respecting his ward, the eccentricity and prodigality of his manners, and his own hard task in endeavouring to prevent him from squandering his money, especially in those deceitful allurances called lottery tickets. He said, although he was his guardian, he was still obliged to comply with some of those whims, in opposition to his own advice and remonstrance. Old Mr. Brank talked of the happy prospects for Samuel by serving such a master, and Samuel talked of his wages and clothes, and whether he was to be in livery or not. It was concluded, that for the present he should procure a drab coat, turned up with red, till the nobleman’s pleasure was known, or he came to town: he was ordered to get the clothes at his own charge, and make out his bill; which he did, but was never repaid. This circumstance corresponded with Price’s usual conduct: he never was known to part with a shilling from one hand, till he had more than double its value in the other. It should be observed, that Samuel was so placed on the left side of the pretended Mr. Brank, on which side the patch was, that during the whole of the conversation he could never see the right side of Price’s face.
Before Samuel took leave of the old gentleman, he was ordered to come again in the evening of the first day of the drawing of the lottery. Price pretended, that he seldom went to the nobleman’s town house of an evening, and therefore, to avoid giving him unnecessary trouble, he was to attend in Titchfield-street. On that evening he pulled out a variety of papers, letters, &c., and told Samuel he had received orders from the thoughtless young nobleman to purchase lottery tickets, as a venture against his coming to town, and for that purpose he meant to employ Samuel. He produced some seeming bank-notes, and gave Samuel two, one of twenty pounds, the other of forty pounds. He directed him to take their numbers and dates on a piece of paper, for fear of losing them, and to go to a lottery office in the Hay-market, and with the one of twenty pounds to purchase “an eight guinea chance:” from thence he was to go to the corner of Bridge-street, Westminster, to buy another out of the forty pound note, and wait at the door of the Parliament-street coffee-house till he came to him. With these notes Samuel bought each of the chances, and was on his way to the Parliament-street coffee-house when, from the opposite side of the way, he was hailed by Mr. Brank, who complimented him on his speed, and said he had been so quick, that he, Brank, had not had time to get to the coffee-house. He was then interrogated, if he had made the purchases, and, replying in the affirmative, was again commended for his diligence: Brank also inquired, if any mistake had happened; and all this with a deal of coughing, imbecility of speech, and feigned accent.
When Samuel received the notes, he received as many canvass bags as he was ordered to buy shares, and to put each distinct share, and the balance of each note, into a separate bag, for fear, as Brank said, the chance of one office might be confused with the chance of another, and Samuel be thereby puzzled to know where he had bought the different chances; and by such confusion, or forgetfulness, it might not be recollected where to apply in case of a fortunate number.
Mr. Brank having secured the chances and balances, ordered Samuel to go to Goodluck’s at Charing-cross, from thence to King-street, Covent-garden, and York-street, Covent-garden, and purchase some other small shares and chances, and then meet him at the city coffee-house, Cheapside. To these places the young man went, and having bought his numbers and changed his notes, as he was going along York-street, his master called to him from a coach, pretended he was fortunate in thus seeing him, made Samuel step in, got the produce of the forgery, and away they drove to the city.
In their way thither, Brank applauded his servant’s despatch; gave him more notes, to the amount of four hundred pounds, with instructions to purchase shares and chances, at offices about the Exchange; and directed him, as before, to put the chances and money received at each office in a separate bag. For this purpose Samuel was set down from the coach in Cheapside, and having executed his commissions returned, agreeable to his orders, to the city coffee-house, where he waited a few minutes and then Mr. Brank came hobbling up to him, and took him into a coach, that was waiting hard by. Brank resumed complaints of his health and infirmities, and observed, that the fatigues of business had kept him longer than he expected; but he warned Samuel to be always exceedingly punctual. His reason for urging punctuality was the dread of a discovery, and to prevent consultations, by which he might be detected. On their way to Long-acre, where the coachman was ordered to drive, Brank amused his servant with flattering promises for his attention and fidelity; and at parting put a guinea into his hand, and gave him orders to be in waiting, for a few days, at his old master’s in the Strand.
It afterwards appeared, that whenever Samuel went to an office a woman, unobserved by him, always walked in at the same time, and looked about her as if accompanying some one else in the shop; and as soon as Samuel had done his business she also walked away. This woman was Mrs. Pounteney, the aunt of Price’s wife, described in the advertisement and hand-bill issued by the bank. She constantly accompanied Price in a coach whenever he went out, watched Samuel at every office, as soon as he had safely got out stepped across the way to Price, who was in the coach, informed him of the success, and then Samuel was hailed, and Price secured the property while she kept out of sight; nor did Samuel ever see her during his servitude. During his residence at Titchfield-street, which was but a week, Price always appeared and went out as Brank, accompanied by Mrs. Pounteney. In case of any accidental discovery, she was ready to receive the disguise, so that Brank might be instantly shifted to Price, and Price to Brank, and Samuel thereby be rendered incapable of identifying the man that had employed him.
On the Sunday morning after Price’s last adventure, a coachman inquired for Samuel at his old master’s, by whom the coachman was informed, that though Sam worked he did not lodge there, and that he should not see him till the next morning. The coachman held a parcel in his hand, which he said was for Samuel, and which the master desired him to leave, and he should have it the next day; the coachman replied, he was ordered not to leave it, but to take it back in case he could not see the man, and accordingly went across the way with it; there the master saw the elderly gentleman, with whom he had conversed on Samuel’s character a few days before, to whom the coachman delivered the parcel. Samuel’s master saw this old gentleman get into a coach; but in a minute the coachman returned and left the parcel, which contained notes to the amount of three hundred pounds, with a letter directing Samuel to buy, on the next morning, a sixteenth, an eight guinea chance, and a whole ticket, to repeat his purchases as before, till the whole were changed, and to meet his master, Mr. Brank, at Mill’s coffee-house, Gerrard-street, Soho, at twelve o’clock the next day. Samuel duly executed these orders, but, on inquiry at the coffee-house, he found no such person as Mr. Brank had been there; in a few minutes, however, as he was standing at the coffee-house door, a coachman summoned him to Mr. Brank, who was waiting in a coach at the corner of Macclesfield-street. He desired Samuel to come in, and made him sit on the left hand, as before described, and having received the tickets, shares, and balances, ordered him to bid the coachman drive towards Hampstead. On the way, he gave Samuel three sixteenths as a reward for his diligence, and talked much of his ward, who, he said, would be in town in a day or two, when he would speak highly of Samuel’s industry. He discoursed on these subjects till they reached Mother Black-cap’s at Kentish-town, and then Samuel received orders to bid the coachman turn round; and, on their way back, Samuel had notes for five hundred pounds given to him, with directions to lay them out in the same manner about the ’Change, and meet his master at the same place in the evening, where he said he should dine; but, for reasons easily imagined, Samuel was ordered not to make his purchases at the offices he had been to before.
Samuel, having performed this task also, went to the coffee-house, where a porter accosted him, and conducted him to his master in a coach as usual. He was now blamed for his delay, and an appearance of anger assumed, with a declaration, that he would not do if not punctual, for that the nobleman was very particular in time, even to a minute. Samuel apologized, and Brank received the cash and shares, and ordered him to go to the New Inn Westminster-bridge and hire a post-chaise to carry them to Greenwich to meet the nobleman’s steward, who was also his banker, to whom he was going for money to purchase more tickets; observing, at the same time, on the imprudence and prodigality of his ward.
At Greenwich, Samuel was desired to go to the Ship and order a dinner, while Brank was engaged, as he pretended, in negociating his business; he instructed him not to wait longer than three o’clock, but go to dinner at that time, if he, Brank, did not return. It was not till half past four that Brank came hobbling, coughing, and seemingly quite out of breath with fatigue. They then drank tea together, and afterwards returned in the chaise to Lombard-street, where it was discharged. There Sam received more notes to the amount of 350_l._, which he got rid of in the usual way; and at the city coffee-house was again fortunate enough to meet his master before he got to the door. Brank ordered him to attend the next evening at his lodgings, which he accordingly did, and afterwards at three or four other times, in the course of which attendance he negociated 500_l._ more of the forged notes.
We now arrive at the close of Samuel’s services. In negociating the last sum he had received, he went to Brooksbank’s and Ruddle’s, where he was interrogated as to whom he lived with; Samuel said he was servant to a very rich nobleman’s guardian, that he was at board-wages, and gave his address to his old master, the musical instrument-maker. Having delivered Brank the cash, &c. in the usual way, he was told, that perhaps he might not be wanted again for a week, and that he might wait till sent for. Before the expiration of that time, however, Samuel was apprehended, and taken to Bow-street, where he was examined by the magistrates and gentlemen from the bank; and telling his artless tale, which was not believed, he was committed to Tothillfields-bridewell, on suspicion of forgery.
The surprise of the poor lad on his apprehension, his horror on being confined in a prison, and his dread of being executed as a forger of counterfeit bank-notes, were only equalled by the astonishment of the directors of the bank and the magistrates, at the sagacity of the manufacturer, who had hitherto evaded every possibility of detection. Nor did they appear at all persuaded of Sam’s innocence, though his story was, in part, confirmed by his former master, the musical instrument-maker. The forged note he had passed at Brooksbank’s and Ruddle’s, where he had been interrogated, was the means of his apprehension. In a day or two it was paid into the bank, traced back to Brooksbank’s and Ruddle’s office, and, immediate application being made to Bow-street, the lad was taken into custody.
Samuel’s examinations were frequent and long, and in the end the following scheme was laid to secure the fabricator. Samuel having been ordered by Brank to stay till he was sent for, an inferior officer of Bow-street was stationed at the musical instrument-maker’s in the Strand, where Samuel worked, in case Brank should call in the mean time. After the lapse of a few days, Price sent Samuel a message to meet him the next day at Mill’s coffee-house, exactly at eleven o’clock. This was communicated to Mr. Bond, a clerk at Bow-street office, who ordered Samuel to comply, but not to go till five minutes past the time. The above inferior officer attended at a distance, disguised as a porter, with a knot on his shoulder, and Bond, dressed as a “lady,” followed at a small distance. When Samuel arrived at the coffee-house he found that a real porter had that instant been there and inquired for him, and could have been hardly got out of the door. This information Samuel directly communicated to the “lady,” (Bond of Bow-street,) and Samuel was sent back to wait; but Brank, in a hackney-coach hard by, had discovered the momentary conversation between Samuel and the disguised officers, and took immediate flight. An instant rush was made at Titchfield-street, but in vain; Blank had not been there since Samuel and he had left it together, and the police were entirely at fault. The advertisements were again issued, and hand-bills were showered around to no purpose. Poor Samuel, however, having tolerably established his innocence, was, after suffering eleven months’ imprisonment, discharged with a present of twenty pounds.
In the ensuing lottery, Price played the same artful game with notes of higher value; those of 20_l._ and 40_l._ were grown too suspicious, another lad had been taken into custody, another rush made, and Price was missed again by a moment.
Price’s next scheme was an advertisement for a person in the linen drapery business; and with notes of from 50_l._ to 100_l._ two young men, his agents, purchased linen drapery at different shops. They were detected by having passed an 100_l._ note to Mr. Wollerton, a linen-draper in Oxford-street, who recovered the whole of his property through Bond the officer, by whom it was seized at No. 3, on the Terrace, in Tottenham-court-road.
To follow Price through all his proceedings would be impossible: in November 1782, Mr. Spilsbury of Soho-square, the proprietor of some medicinal “drops,” received a card bearing the name of Wilmott, which had been left by a person who had called at his house in his absence. The next evening the following note was delivered at Mr. Spilsbury’s.
“Mr. Wilmott’s complits to Mr. Spilsbur. wishes to converse with him 10 minutes. having an Order for His drops, at half past five o’clock this evening.
“No. 17, Gresse-street, Rathbone-place.”
At the time mentioned in the note Mr. Spilsbury went to Gresse-street, where he was shown into a parlour by a foot-boy, and waited until Mr. Wilmott made his appearance. He appeared to be a very infirm old man, in a great coat and a slouched hat, with a piece of red flannel round the lower part of his face, a large bush-wig on, and his legs wrapped over with flannel; he wore green spectacles, and a green silk shade hanging from his hat, but no patch on his eye: this was Price. He and Mr. Spilsbury had frequently met at Percy-street coffee-house, Rathbone-place, and often conversed together; but on this occasion Mr. Spilsbury had no idea or recollection of his old acquaintance. As soon as Price entered the parlour, he observed on his own dress; and said he had exceedingly suffered from the drawing of a tooth by an unskilful dentist, and wore the flannel on his face in order to avoid catching cold. He then familiarly conversed with Mr. Spilsbury, extolled the merits of his “drops,” recounted great cures which he knew they had performed, styled himself a dealer in diamonds, and dismissed Mr. Spilsbury with the promise of an order in a few days. It was evidently postponed to strengthen Mr. Spilsbury’s opinion of him, but at last it arrived in the following note:--
“Mr. Wilmott’s compliments to Mr. Spilsbur, desires he will put up twelve bottles of drops at 3_s._ 6_d._ against Friday three o’clock. the boy will call and pay for them. also, Mr. Spilsbur will send a copy or form of an Advertisement--and attestation, leaving a blank for the names. the case was--the man was violently broke out in legs, body and face, and he actually had no other physic than two of the bottles. and it is really astonishing how much He is recovered.--when Mr. Wilmott comes to town to-morrow week He will send the voucher authenticated by 6 people of consequence.
“Gresse-street, No. 17.”
The boy did not call on the Friday mentioned; but on the Friday week he brought a letter, in which Mr. Wilmott desired Mr. Spilsbury to send two guineas’ worth of the drops, and change for a 10_l._ bank-note, and to be particular in sending guineas of good weight. The bank-note appeared to be a new one, change was got in the neighbourhood, and the drops sent; and the next note Mr. Spilsbury received was from Sir Sampson Wright, desiring his attendance at Bow-street, where, to his astonishment, he was informed of the forgery. He related the preceding particulars to the magistrate, and produced the two letters. The officers paid an immediate visit to Gresse-street, but old Mr. Wilmott had previously departed.
Not long after this, Mr. Spilsbury met his acquaintance, Mr. Price, at the Percy-street coffee-house; and there, drinking his chocolate, and talking over the occurrences of the day, Mr. Spilsbury told the foregoing story to his coffee-house acquaintance, while Price every now and then called out “Lack a day! Good God! who could conceive such knavery could exist! What, and did the bank refuse payment, sir?” “O yes,” said Mr. Spilsbury, with some degree of acrimony; “though it is on the faith of the bank of England that I and a great many others have taken them, and they are so inimitably executed, that the nicest judges cannot detect them.” “Good God!” said Price, “he must have been an ingenious villain!--What a complete old scoundrel!”
It is related, that when the celebrated artist William Wynn Ryland was to be executed for forging an East-india bond, Price intreated the use of a dining-room window in Oxford-street, at the house of a gentleman whom he had defrauded in the same manner he had done Mr. Spilsbury; and Price was present when Ryland passed to Tyburn, and on that occasion pointed to Ryland, saying “There goes one of the most ingenious men in the world, but as wicked as he is ingenious--he is the identical man who has done all the mischief in the character of Patch: he deserves his fate, and he would confess the fact, if he was not in hopes of a respite; which he would have obtained, perhaps, had not the directors been certain that it was charity to the public to let him suffer.”
Mention has already been made of the fraud practised by Price on Mr. R. of Knightsbridge. One in a family was not enough for him, and Mr. R’s brother, who lived in Oxford-street, experienced the effect of Price’s ingenuity in crime. Price had been often there, and bought a variety of things, and was perfectly well known in his real person, and by his proper name. One day, however, a hackney-coach carried him thither disguised as an old man, and in that character he made some purchases. In a day or two he repeated his visit, and on a third day, when he knew Mr. R. was from home, he went again with his face so coloured that he seemed in a deep jaundice. The shopman, to whom he was full of complaints, told him that he had a receipt for that disorder, which had cured his father of it, and offered him the prescription. Price accepted it, and promised that if it succeeded he would liberally reward him. In a few days, he again appeared before the shopman perfectly freed from the complaint, and acknowledging his great obligations to him, said he had but a short time to live in the world, and having very few relations to leave any thing to, he begged his acceptance of a 50_l._ bank-note, at the same time, he said, he wanted cash for another. Mr. R. not being in the way, the grateful shopman stepped out, and got change for it. The next day Price having watched Mr. R’s going out, prevailed on the lad to take five other 50_l._ notes to his master’s banker, and there get them changed for smaller ones. Price’s notes soon got to the bank, and of course were stopped. They were traced to Mr. R’s. His lad was interrogated, and as Mr. R. positively refused to pay the 250_l._ to his bankers, they brought an action against him, which was tried in the court of common pleas, before Lord Loughborough, and the bankers obtained a verdict. The most extraordinary circumstances pending the suit were, that Mr. R. communicated the story to Price, who offered him all the assistance in his power, and became a principal agent in the defence. He was, of all others, the most active in procuring witnesses for Mr. R., and actually attended the trial, without the least suspicion, on the part of any individual concerned, that he was the perpetrator of the mischief.
It is an extraordinary and almost incredible fact, that during a period of six years, five of which had elapsed after the remarkable advertisement issued at the instance of the bank in December 1780, Price committed depredations of this nature on the public with impunity. The deceptions by which he circulated his forged notes through so long a period, were as varied as the nature of each new circumstance required. At last he turned another species of forgery, equally artful, and, for a time, equally successful. He went to the coffee-houses near the Royal Exchange in a new disguise, and there was accustomed to get a boy to take a sum of 10_l._ to the bank, with directions to receive from the teller the customary ticket to the cashier who pays; but the lad had his especial orders not to go to the cashier for the money, as the teller is accustomed to direct, but as soon as the boy was out of the teller’s sight he was to turn another way, and bring the ticket to Price at the coffee-house. There Price used to alter the teller’s tickets from 10_l._ to 100_l._ by adding an 0, or by placing a 1 before any other sum where the addition was easy, so as to make 50 into 150, &c., and then send the tickets by other hands to the cashiers, who paid the increased sums unsuspectedly.
This scheme was his last. One of the notes he had received at the bank, on a forged ticket, he had passed at Mr. Aldous’s, a pawn-broker in Berwick-street, where he was known by the name of Powel, and went two or three times a week to pledge things of value. An officer was placed at Mr. Aldous’s till his next call, which was the next day but one, when he was secured and carried to Bow-street. His behaviour there was exceedingly insolent. Mr. Bond, who, when Price kept a lottery-office in King-street, Covent-garden, was clerk at Bow-street, had visited him on account of some money due to Sir John Fielding’s maid servant, gained by insuring with Price, which he had refused to pay her; but when informed by Mr. Bond who her master was, he waited on Sir John, and satisfied her claim. He now taxed Mr. Bond, who had been made a magistrate, with prejudice against him on account of the insurance affair, and complained that he should not have justice done him. He also urged against Mr. Abraham Newland, esq., principal cashier of the bank, that he could expect nothing from him but every possible injury, on account of some former antipathy that gentleman had conceived towards him; and he imputed desire of revenge to every individual whose duty it was to render him amenable to justice.
When under examination, the chief magistrate, Sir Sampson Wright, suddenly called out “Sam;” the young man immediately answered, and at the same moment appeared before his old master, who started as at a ghost; but, recollecting himself, made a polite bow to his former servant, with a view either to awaken his sympathy, or to hint at what he might expect if he disclaimed him. Samuel, however, could only swear to his voice, for he had not the least idea of his person or features. Price was committed to Tothillfields-bridewell, where he turned his thoughts to the destruction of the implements. Well knowing that nothing could be extracted from Mrs. Price, or any of his family, to affect him, he had declared, when under examination, that he lived with them at a cheesemonger’s in the neighbourhood of Tottenham-court-road; and he was equally secure that nothing could be found there to afford the least suspicion of his being the forger described under the character of Patch. His next step was to obtain an interview with Mrs. Price and his eldest son, a youth about fifteen years of age. To his wife’s great surprise, he communicated to her the secret of his lodgings, and the circumstances respecting her aunt. He wrote a letter to Mrs. Pounteney, informing her of his situation, and desiring her instantly to destroy every atom of the apparatus, clothes, &c.; he tore up the inner sole of his son’s shoe, and putting the letter under, it passed safe.
When Mrs. Pounteney received the letter, she burnt every article of clothes in which Price had disguised himself, and sent for a carpenter, to whom he had never been visible, to take down the wood frame, presses, and other instruments with which Price had made his paper, and printed off his notes. While the maid was gone for the carpenter, her mistress put the copper-plates into the fire, and, rendering them pliable, reduced them to small pieces. These, with a large bundle of small wires, used in the manufacture of the paper and water-marks, she desired Price’s son to take to the adjacent fields, and there distribute them beneath the dust heaps; and the pieces lay there till, by a stratagem, they were discovered and brought to Bow-street. The carpenter took down the apparatus, and being paid and despatched, every thing was brought down and reduced to ashes.
Throughout Price’s examinations, his assurance was the most remarkable feature in his conduct; but the audacity by which he sought to baffle his accusers was so reckless, as to disclose a circumstance which largely added to the grounds for believing him to be the criminal who had so long eluded justice. From the extreme art he had adopted to effectually disguise his person, while committing his enormous frauds, there was no connected proof of his identity. Long before his apprehension, he had hazarded experiments to discover whether his disguises were effectual. He would go to the coffee-houses about the ’Change, where he was thoroughly well known as Mr. Price, and in his real character inquire for Mr. Norton, write a letter, and leave it at the bar. In ten minutes he would return as Mr. Norton, receive the letter, and drink his coffee. While in Tothillfields-bridewell, a boy who had more than once taken cash for him to the tellers at the bank, together with the boy’s mother, who had also seen him, were conveyed to the prison to view him. The boy could not at all identify him: the mother was more positive, but still the proof was deemed scarcely sufficient to convict him. He had pledged things of value several times, under the name of Powel, with Mr. Aldous. Mrs. Pounteney had done the same in the character of Mrs. Powel. They had talked of each other, and each of them had at different times pledged the same article; yet Price on his examination denied the least knowledge of her; impudently threatened to bring actions for false imprisonment; and ridiculing the officers for not finding a ten pound note in his fob, under his watch, when he was searched, he heedlessly produced it--this identical note was one of the notes delivered by the cashier upon a teller’s ticket which Price had forged!
Price had been brought up three times for the purpose of being viewed, and his sagacity perceived the impossibility of his escaping the hand of justice. He told the keeper he had been “betrayed,” but this was not the fact. Meditating to avoid a public execution, he informed his son that the people of the prison came into his room sooner than he wished; and that he had something secret to write, which they might get at by suddenly coming upon him, which he wished to prevent. On this pretence he gave his son money to purchase two gimblets and a sixpenny cord, pointing out to him how he would fasten the gimblets in the post, and tie the cord across the door, which opened inwards. The poor youth obtained the implements, and Price having fastened the gimblets under two hat screws, was discovered hanging in his room, without coat or shoes, on the 25th of January, 1786.
Under his waistcoat were found three papers. One was a petition to the king, praying protection for his wife and eight children; all of whom, he said, had never offended; and stating, that he had written a pamphlet with a view to prevent a war between the crowns of England and Denmark, and to rescue the character of queen Matilda from the aspersions of the queen dowager’s party. The second was a letter of thanks to Mr. Fenwick, the keeper of the prison, for his indulgence and favours. The third was a letter to his wife, wherein he begged her forgiveness for the injuries he had done her, and intreated her attention to their offspring. In these papers, written with his dying hand, the guilty man solemnly denied every thing laid to his charge!
Immediately upon Price’s self-destruction, his unhappy wife, who had been innocent of his iniquities, was urged to discover the woman with whom he had been connected. She was assured, that though the verdict of a coroner’s inquest must be formally complied with, yet, if she rendered this act of justice to the country, his remains might afterwards receive christian burial. Her son was present and added his intreaties that she would tell, or suffer him to tell, who and where the woman was; the feelings of the widow and the mother prevailed, and she communicated the residence of her depraved aunt, who, on being taken into custody, disclosed several of the circumstances attending the destruction and concealment of the presses and implements. What remained of them were destroyed by the police, and she was delivered out of custody to the punishment of her own thoughts. It was afterwards ascertained, on a second search, that she had not discovered all the machinery. The frame with which Price had made his paper was produced to her, and she was asked what it was: “It is an instrument,” she said, “I use for mangling.” An answer which may be taken as evidence, that notwithstanding the example of Price might have taught her the folly of wickedness, and though she herself had escaped by the sufferance of extreme mercy, her mind was still disposed to evil.
Price was buried in the cross-roads, but, in about a week, his body was privately removed by night.
These particulars of Price are more numerous, and the account of him is more diffuse, than might be expected in connection with the lottery; but as he was too remarkable to have been omitted among its incidents, so his criminal career was too flagitious and notorious to be lightly passed over when he was mentioned at all.
Price’s lottery-office, in King-street, Covent-garden, was the house now (in 1826) occupied by Mr. Setchell, the bookseller. On part of the wall where Mr. Setchell’s shutters are placed, there are remains of Price’s lottery-bills still visible.
LOTTERY SUICIDE AND HEARTBREAKING.
The “Gentleman’s Magazine” of 1787 inserts what is called “a copy of a paper left by the unhappy young gentleman who lately shot himself with two pistols in Queen-street, Westminster,” wherein he execrates “the head that planned, and the heart that executed, the baneful, destructive plan of a Lottery.”
The same year, in a debate in the house of commons on a bill then passing to prevent insurance, Mr. Francis said his own family furnished a striking instance of the dreadful effects of a passion for this ruinous practice. He had given, at different times, to a female servant sums of money to the amount of two hundred pounds, to discharge tradesmen’s bills; and, to his great surprise, he found afterwards that, regardless of his character, or her own, she had risked the entire sum in insuring in the lottery, and had lost it. He would have been glad had the loss of money been the only one, for he would have taken it upon himself; but the poor woman lost her life within a week after this discovery had been made, dying broken-hearted and distracted.
SHARING A PRIZE.
In the Lottery of 1788 a guinea share of a ticket drawn a 20,000_l._ prize had been duly registered by Shergold and Co. who sold it, and acquainted the holder by letter that it entitled him to 1500_l._ This lucky man, who lived in the country, attended his club the same evening, and imparted the good news he had received. His joy, however, was considerably damped by a person present, who assured him that he never would be paid--that his prize was not worth a groat, and that he himself knew one who at the beginning of the lottery had a half guinea share a prize of 20,000_l._ and was entitled to 700_l._, but was glad to compromise it for 50_l._ After reciting a variety of circumstances to the same effect, and cunningly working up alarm to the highest pitch, he at length told the owner of the prize, that he knew some of the proprietors in Shergold’s house, and he believed he might be able to get some money where another could get none; he would therefore venture to give 100_l._ for the prize. This proposal being rejected, he advanced to 200_l_. from thence to 300_l._ and at last to 600_l._, which was accepted. He accordingly paid the money to the unfortunate fortunate adventurer, got possession of the prize, and immediately set off for London, and received the 1500_l._ without difficulty. Several eminent lawyers, on considering the misrepresentations used in this transaction, were of opinion, that it was what is termed a catching bargain, and advised the owner, who was cozened out of 900_l._, to apply to equity for relief.[480] He seems to have been afraid of the remedy; for, though he took counsel’s opinion, it does not appear that he followed it into chancery.
* * * * *
At the Haymarket theatre, in 1791, a comedy, called the “School for Arrogance,” was produced with a prologue spoken in the character of a news-hawker, with the Lottery as one of the topics of intelligence.
After sounding, and calling “Great News!” without; he enters with a postman’s horn, newspapers, cap and livery.
Great news! here’s money lent on bond, rare news! By honest, tender-hearted, christian jews! Here are promotions, dividends, rewards, A list of bankrupts, and of new made lords. Here the debates at length are, for the week; And here the deaf and dumb are taught to speak. Here Hazard, Goodluck, Shergold, and a band Of gen’rous gentlemen, whose hearts expand With honour, rectitude, and public spirit, Equal in high desert, with equal merit, Divide their tickets into shares and quarters; And here’s a servant-maid found hanging in her garters! Here! here’s the fifty thousand, sold at ev’ry shop! And here’s the “Newgate Calendar”--and drop. Rare news! strange news! extraordinary news! Who would not give three halfpence to peruse?
* * * * *
Shergolds seem to have persisted in a course of attempts to evade the law, by a peculiar mode of dividing and insuring tickets; but in Michaelmas term, 1791, the question was argued in the court of King’s-bench on a special verdict, whether the sellers of their receipts were liable to be apprehended and committed as vagrants under the Lottery act, and the court determined, that they were vagrants within the true intent of the act.
INSURING.
In February, 1793, the commissioners of the Lottery, in order to abate insuring, determined that no persons should be suffered to take down numbers, except the clerks of licensed offices known to the commissioners: no slips were to be sent out; but the numbers were to be taken down by one clerk in one book; Steel’s list of lottery numbers was to be abolished, and a recompence made for it; and the magistrates resolved to apprehend all suspicious persons who should be seen taking early numbers.[481]
Yet, in 1796, we find “a class of sharpers, who take Lottery Insurances,” and that this gambling, among the higher and middling ranks, was carried on to an extent exceeding all credibility, producing consequences to many private families, of great worth and respectability, of the most distressing nature.--Mr. Colquhoun represents them as “a class, in general, of very depraved or distressed characters, who keep unlicensed insurance offices, during the drawing of the English and Irish Lotteries;” many of whom, during the intervals of such lotteries, had recently invented and set up private lotteries, or wheels, called little goes, containing blanks and prizes, which were drawn for the purpose of establishing a ground for insurance, and producing incalculable mischiefs, inasmuch as the rage and mania were so rooted, from habit and a spirit of gaming, that no domestic pressure, and no consideration, connected either with the frauds that were practised, or the number of chances against them, would operate as a check upon the minds of the infatuated. The criminal agents felt no want of customers. The houses and offices were not only extremely numerous all over the metropolis, but in general high rented, exhibiting the appearance of considerable expense, and barricadoed in such a manner with iron doors and other contrivances as, in many instances, to defy the arm of the law. A considerable portion of their emoluments was traced to have been derived from menial servants in general; but particularly the male and female domestics in the houses of men of fashion and fortune, who were said, almost without a single exception, to be in the constant habit of insuring in the English and Irish Lotteries.
Such persons, with a spirit of gambling rendered more ardent than prevails in common life, from the example of their superiors, and from their idle and dissipated habits, entered keenly into the Lottery business; and when ill luck attended them were often led, step by step, to that point where they lost sight of moral principle, and were impelled, by desire of regaining what they had lost, to sell or pawn the property of their masters, whenever it could be pilfered so as to elude detection; and this species of peculation sometimes terminated in more atrocious crimes.
The insurance offices in the metropolis exceeded four hundred in number. To many of them persons were attached, called Morocco Men, who went from house to house among their customers, or attended in the back parlours of public-houses, where they were met by them to make insurances.
It was calculated, that at these offices (exclusive of what was done at the licensed offices) insurances were made to the extent of eight hundred thousand pounds, in premiums during the Irish Lottery, and above one million during the English; upon which it was calculated that they made from fifteen to twenty-five per cent. profit. This confederacy, during the English Lottery of the year 1796, supported about 2000 agents and clerks, and nearly 7500 Morocco men, including a considerable number of ruffians and bludgeon men, paid by a general association of the principal proprietors of the establishments, who regularly met in committee, in a well-known public-house in Oxford-market, twice or thrice a week, during the drawing of the lottery, for the purpose of concerting measures to defeat the exertions of the magistrates, by forcibly resisting or bribing the officers of justice.
* * * * *
The Lottery was declared to be inseparable from illegal insurances, by the parliamentary reports of 1807; and they further state, that “the Lottery is so radically vicious, that under no system of regulations which can be devised will it be possible for parliament to adopt it as an efficient source of revenue, and at the same time divest it of all the evils and calamities of which it has hitherto been so baneful a source.” Among these evils and calamities, the committees of parliament enumerate that “idleness, dissipation, and poverty, were increased,--the most sacred and confidential trusts were betrayed--domestic comfort was destroyed--madness was often created--suicide itself was produced--and crimes subjecting the perpetrators of them to death were committed.”
LITTLE GOES.
These were little Lotteries on the same plan as the great State Lotteries, and drawn in the same manner. There were generally five or six “little goes” in the year, and they were actually set up and conducted by two or three of the licensed lottery-office keepers. The State Lottery was the parent of these “little goes.” Persons who had not patience to wait till another State Lottery gambled during the vacations in a “little go.” A “little go” was never heard of during the State Lotteries.[482]
THE GREAT GO.
Sir Nathaniel Conant, who in 1816 was chief magistrate of the police establishment at Bow-street, stated in that year to a committee of the house of commons, that the Lottery was one of the predisposing causes by which the people of the metropolis were vitiated; that it led to theft, to supply losses and disappointments, occasioned by speculating on its chances; and that illegal insurances continued to be effected:--“there are,” he says, “people in the back ground who having got 40, or 50,000_l._ by that, employ people of the lowest order, and give them a commission for what they bring; there is a wheel within a wheel.” Another magistrate, giving evidence before the same committee, said, “it is a scandal to the government thus to excite people to practice the vice of gaming, for the purpose of drawing a revenue from their ruin: it is an anomalous proceeding by law to declare gambling infamous, to hunt out petty gamblers in their recesses, and cast them into prison, and by law also to set up the giant gambling of the State Lottery, and encourage persons to resort to it by the most captivating devices which ingenuity, uncontrolled by moral rectitude, can invent.”[483]
CONCLUSION.
Incredible efforts were made in the summer of 1826 to keep the “last lottery” on its legs. The price of tickets was arbitrarily raised, to induce a belief that they were in great demand at the very moment when their sale was notoriously at a stand; and the lagging attention of the public of the metropolis was endeavoured to be quickened, by all sorts of stratagems, to the 18th of July, as the very last chance that would occur in England of gaining “SIX 30,000_l._ besides other Capitals,” which it was positively affirmed were “all to be drawn” on that fatal day. Besides the dispersion of innumerable bills, and the aspersions on government relative to the approaching extinction of the Lottery, the parties interested in its preservation caused London and its environs to be paraded by the following
Procession.
1. Three men in liveries, scarlet and gold.
2. Six men bearing boards at their backs and on their breasts, with inscriptions in blue and gold, “All Lotteries end Tuesday next, six 30,000_l._”
3. Band of trumpets, clarionets, horns, &c.
4. A large purple silk banner carried by six men, inscribed in large gold letters “All Lotteries end for ever on Tuesday next, six 30,000_l._”
5. A painted carriage, representing the Lottery wheel, drawn by two dappled grey horses, tandem fashion; the fore horse rode by a postillion in scarlet and gold, with a black velvet cap, and a boy seated in a dickey behind the machine, turning the handle and setting the wheel in motion.
6. Six men with other Lottery labels.
7. A square Lottery carriage, surmounted by a gilt imperial crown; the carriage covered by labels, with “All Lotteries end on Tuesday next;” drawn by two horses, tandem, and a postillion.
8. Six men with labels.
9. Twelve men in blue and gold, with boards or poles with “Lotteries end for ever on Tuesday next.”
10. A large purple silk flag, with “all Lotteries end on Tuesday next.”
This procession with its music drew the heads of the servant maids from the windows in every suburb of the metropolis, and was followed by troops of boys, till they tired on its frequency. It sometimes stopped, and a man with a bell cried “O yes!” and “God save the king!” and, between the two, proclaimed, in set words, the “death of the Lottery on Tuesday next!” The event was likewise announced as certain in all the newspapers, and by cart-loads of bills showered down areas, and thrust under knockers; when, behold, “the Lords of the Treasury were pleased to order” the final drawing to be postponed to Thursday the 18th of October; but all the good people so informed were wisely uninformed, that this “order” was obtained by the lottery-office folks, to give them a long day to get rid of their unsold tickets.
After this, the streets were cavalcaded by men, whose bodies were concealed between long boards on each side of their horses (as represented in the engraving on page 1407) to announce the next “last of the Lottery on the 18th of October” aforesaid; and men on foot walked with labels on their breasts and backs, with the same never-dying intelligence, according to the further figure in the engraving of the lottery wheel (on page 1439,) which cut, it may be here observed, represents one of the government wheels, and the sledge it was drawn upon from Somerset-house to Coopers’-hall, at the commencement of the drawing of every Lottery; on which occasion there were four horses to each wheel, and about a dozen horse-guards to protect the instruments of Miss-Fortune.
* * * * *
But the most pageant-like machine was an octagon frame work, covered by printed Lottery placards (as exhibited in the engraving on page 1405) with a single horse, and a driver, and a guard-like seat at the back. When drawn along the streets, as it was at a most funereal pace, it overtopped the sills of the first-floor windows. Its slow motion, and the route it chiefly took, evidenced the low hopes of the proprietors. St. Giles’s and the purlieus of that neighbourhood seem to have been selected as the favoured spots from whence favours were mostly to be expected. An opportunity offered to sketch it, while it was pelted with mud and stones, and torn and disfigured by the unappreciating offspring of the sons of fortune whose regards it courted. The artist’s letter describes the scene: “As I was walking up Holborn on Monday the 9th instant, I saw a strange vehicle moving slowly on, and when I came up to it, found a machine, perhaps from twenty to thirty feet high, of an octagon shape, covered all over with Lottery papers of various colours. It had a broad brass band round the bottom, and moved on a pivot; it had a very imposing effect. The driver and the horse seemed as dull as though they were attending a solemn funeral, whilst the different shopkeepers came to the doors and laughed; some of the people passing and repassing read the bills that were pasted on it, as if they had never read one before, others stationed themselves to look at it as long as it was in sight. It entered Monmouth-street, that den of filth and rags, where so great a number of young urchins gathered together in a few minutes as to be astonishing. There being an empty chair behind, one of them seated himself in it, and rode backwards; another said, “let’s have a stone through it,” and a third cried “let’s sludge it.” This was no sooner proposed than they threw stones, oyster shells, and dirt, and burst several of the sheets; this attack brought the driver from his seat, and he was obliged to walk by the side of his machine up this foul street, which his show canvassed, halting now and then to threaten the boys, who still followed and threw. I made a sketch, and left the scene. It was not an every-day occurrence, and I accompany it with these remarks.”
This was the fag-end of the last struggle of the speculators on public credulity for popularity to their “last, dying Lottery.”
* * * * *
At last, on Wednesday the 18th of October, 1826, the State Lottery expired, and its decease was announced in the newspapers of the next day by the following article:--
STATE LOTTERY.
Yesterday afternoon, at about half past six o’clock, that old servant of the state, the Lottery, breathed its last, having for a long period of years, ever since the days of queen Anne, contributed largely towards the public revenue of the country. This event took place at Coopers’-hall, Basinghall-street; and such was the anxiety on the part of the public to witness the last drawing of the Lottery, that great numbers of persons were attracted to the spot, independently of those who had an interest in the proceedings. The gallery of Coopers’-hall was crowded to excess long before the period fixed for the drawing, (five o’clock,) and the utmost anxiety was felt by those who had shares in the Lottery for the arrival of the appointed hour. The annihilation of Lotteries, it will be recollected, was determined on in the session of parliament before last; and thus a source of revenue bringing into the treasury the sums of 250,000_l._ and 300,000_l._ per annum will be dried up. This determination on the part of the legislature is hailed by far the greatest portion of the public with joy, as it will put an end to a system which many believe to have fostered and encouraged the late speculations, the effects of which have been and are still severely felt. A deficiency in the public revenue to the extent of 250,000_l._ annually, will, however, be the consequence of the annihilation of Lotteries, and it must remain for those who have strenuously supported the putting a stop to Lotteries to provide for the deficiency.
Although that which ended yesterday was the last, if we are informed correctly, the lottery-office keepers have been left with a great number of tickets remaining on their hands--a pretty strong proof that the public in general have now no relish for these schemes.
The concourse of persons in Basinghall-street was very great; indeed the street was almost impassable, and everybody seemed desirous of ascertaining the fortunate numbers. In the gallery the greatest interest was excited, as the various prizes were drawn from the wheel; and as soon as a number-ticket was drawn from the number-wheel every one looked with anxiety to his share, in order to ascertain if Fortune smiled on him. Only one instance occurred where a prize was drawn and a number held by any individual present. The fortunate person was a little man, who, no sooner had learned that his number was a grand prize, then he buttoned up his coat and coolly walked off without uttering a word. As the drawing proceeded, disappointment began to succeed the hopes indulged by those who were present. On their entrance to the hall every face wore a cheerful appearance; but on the termination of the drawing a strong contrast was exhibited, and the features of each were strongly marked with dissatisfaction.
The drawing commenced shortly after five o’clock, and ended at twenty minutes past six.
The doors of the various Lottery-offices were also surrounded by persons awaiting the issue of the drawing.
LOTTERY PUFFS.
It is not possible to go into the Literature of the Lottery without occupying more room than can be spared, but young readers and posterity may be amused and surprised by some figures, from among many hundreds of wood-cuts on the bills of schemes, and invitations to buy.
“T. BISH, 4 Cornhill, and 9 Charing-cross, London, and by all his agents in the country,” put forth the following.
~Kitchen Maid.~
Mistress Molly, the Cook, At the Scheme only look, In wealth we may both of us roll, If we brush for a Prize In the world we may rise, And our skuttles have plenty of cole.
~Cook Maid.~
If what you say is true, I am all in a stew, Lest we miss what we so much desire; Should we lose this good plan, For a sup in the pan, All the fat will be soon in the fire!
Except the verses which were placed in the bill beneath the preceding cut, it contained nothing but an announcement of the day when the Lottery was to draw, and the number of capital prizes, subjoined by this information, “Tickets and shares are selling by T. BISH;” who seems to have imagined he could propitiate the “kitchen maid” and “cook maid” in his behalf, as a lottery-office keeper, by exhibiting a tea-kettle and fire implements to personify the one, and certain culinary utensils to personify the other.
“Delightful cut to rear the tender mind”
from the basement to the capital story.
RUN, Neighbours, run, the LOTTERY’S expiring, When FORTUNE’S merry wheel, it will never turn more; She now supplies all Numbers, you’re desiring, ALL PRIZES, NO BLANKS, and TWENTY THOUSANDS FOUR.
Haste, Neighbours, haste, the Chance will never come again, When, without pain, for little Cash--you’ll all be rich; Prizes a plenty of--and such a certain source of gain, That young and old, and all the world, it must bewitch. Then run, neighbours, run, &c.
This versified address and the engraving are from another bill. The verses may be presumed as sung by the footman, to excite his fellows of the party-coloured cloth to speculate in the never-enough-to-be-sufficiently-magnified-number of chances in favour of their gaining “Four of £20,000, and--Thirty other Capitals! No Blanks!--ALL IN ONE DAY!” Yet if the words, adapted from a popular duet, were regarded as an easy vehicle to effect that benevolent purpose, they could only be so to those who, with the contractors, forgot, or perhaps, with them, did not know, that the original tells of
“a day of jubilee cajolery.”
Surely this must have been a “word of fear” to all except the contractors themselves, who alone would be the gainers by what the body of adventurers hazarded in the “grand scheme” of “cajolery.”
* * * * *
One of the bills of a former Lottery begins as follows:--
BISH
The Last Man.
In reminding his best friends, the public, that the State Lottery will be drawn this day, 3d May, Bish acquaints them that it is the very last but one that will ever take place in this kingdom, and he is THE LAST CONTRACTOR whose name will appear singly before the public, as the very last will be a coalition of all the usual contractors. Bish, being “the last man” who appears singly, has been particularly anxious to make an excellent scheme, and flatters himself the one he has the honour to submit must meet universal approbation.
* * * * *
At the back of this bill are the following verses, derived from the “cajolery” duet:--
TO-DAY! OR NOT AT ALL
RUN, NEIGHBOURS, RUN!
Run, neighbours, run! To-day it is the Lott’ry draws, You still may be in time if your purse be low; Rhino we all know will stop, of poverty, the flaws, Possess’d of that you’ll find no one to serve you slow: The ministers in parliament of Lotteries have toll’d the knell, And have declar’d from Coopers’-hall dame Fortune soon they will expel. The blue-coat boys no more will shout that they have drawn a capital! Nor run, as tho’ their necks they’d break, to Lucky Bish the news to tell. Run, neighbours, run! &c. Run, neighbours, run! this is you know the third of May, ’Tis the day dame Fortune doth her levee hold; In the scheme, as you may see, are rang’d along in proud array, Of one and twenty thousands six, in notes or gold! A sov’reign cure e’en one of these would be for a consumption, sir, If such disease your pocket has, so if you’ve any gumption, sir, You’ll lose no time, but haste away, and buy a share or ticket, sir, For who can tell but this may be the very hour to nick it, sir? Run, neighbours, run! &c. Run, neighbours, run! the times they say are not the best, And cash ’tis own’d is falling short with high and low; Bankers retire now, while Notaries have little rest, And what may happen next no one pretends to know. Dame Fortune (on whom thousands drew) is going now to shut up shop, So if you’d cash a draft on her, make haste for soon her bank will stop; This very day her wheel goes round, when thousands with her gifts she’ll cheer, For those who can her smiles obtain may gaily laugh throughout the year. Run, neighbours, run! &c.
* * * * *
“BISH,” as the contractor is pleased to call himself, who, after he was “the last man,” dilated into a member of parliament, employed the greatest number of Lottery-laureates of any office keeper of his time; and he and the schemes wherein he engaged were lauded, in prose as well as verse, by his “ready writers.” One of their productions says:--
JOHN BULL’s
Wonder
At monsieur Nong-tong-paw’s ubiquity could not be greater than the astonishment of a French gentleman, who popped into BISH’s office the other day to inquire after the capitals.--“You vill be so good to tell me de nombre of de capital you tiré--you draw yesterday?”--“Why, sir, there were....”--“Restez un peu, stay a littel moment.--You will tell me de capital more big dan two hundred pounds.”--“Why, sir, there were four drawn above 200_l._: there was No. 7849 30,000_l._”--“Ah! ma foi! dat is good dat is de grande chose. Vel, and by whom was it sel?”--“Bish sold it, sir.” “Bish, ha, ha! von lucky dog! vel, allons!”--“There was No. 602, 1000_l._, sir.”--“Ah, indeed! vel, who was sel dat?”--“Bish, sir.”--“Eh, ma foi! Bish encore? Vel.”--“There was No. 2032, 300_l._”--“And who was sel?”--“Bish, sir.”--“Eh, mon dieu! ’tis very grand fortune. Now den de last, and who vas sel dat?”--“Why, sir, the last was No. 6275, 300_l._, also sold by Bish.”--“Eh, de diable! ’tis von chose impossible, Bish sell all de four?”--“Yes, sir, and in a former lottery he sold all the three thirty thousands.”--“Den he is von golden philosopher. I vill buy, I vill--let me see. Yes, I vill buy your shop.”--His ambition was at last, however, contented with three tickets; so that he has three chances of gaining the two thirty thousands yet in the wheel; and we have no doubt Bish will have the good luck of selling them.
* * * * *
“BISH” is the subject of versified praise, in another bill.
HOW TO BE HAPPY.
Let misers hug their worship’d hoards, And lock their chests with care; Whilst we enjoy what life affords, With spirits light as air. For our days shall haily gaily be, Prizes in store before us, We’ll spend our ev’nings merrily. And BISH we’ll toast in chorus.
Let lovers droop for sparkling eyes, And heave the tender sigh: Whilst we embrace the glittering prize, And meagre care defy. For our days shall haily gaily be, Plenty in store before us; Our cash we’ll jingle merrily, And BISH we’ll toast in chorus.
Let glory call the sons of war To dare the crimson’d field; Sweet Fortune’s charms are brighter far, Her golden arms we’ll wield. Then our days will haily gaily be, Riches in store before us; We’ll dance through life most merrily, And BISH we’ll toast in chorus.
* * * * *
“BISH” on another occasion steps in with:--
PERMIT ME TO ASK
Have you seen the scheme of the present Lottery?
Do you know that it contains MORE PRIZES than BLANKS?
Have you heard how very cheap the tickets are?
Are you aware, that Lotteries are about to be discontinued, the chancellor of the exchequer having said that the Lottery bill, introduced last session of parliament, should be the last?
I need not direct you to BISH’S, as being the luckiest offices in the kingdom, &c.
* * * * *
“BISH” adventured in the “City Lottery,” a scheme devised for getting rid of the houses in Picket-street, Temple-bar, and Skinner-street, Snow-hill; and on that occasion he favoured the world with the following:--
FREEHOLDS AND FORTUNES.
BY PETER PUN.
Tune.--“Drops of Brandy.”
Dame Fortune is full of her tricks, And blind, as her portraits reveal, sir; Then the best way the goddess to fix, Is by putting a spoke in her wheel, sir: Her favours the Lott’ry unfolds, Then the summons to BISH don’t scorn sir; For, as her cornucopia he holds, He’s the lad for exalting your horn, sir. Rum ti iddity, &c.
With poverty who would be known, And live upon orts in a garret, sir, Who could get a good house of his own, And fatten on roast beef and claret, sir! In the city scheme this you’ll obtain, At BISH’S, where all folks pell-mell come, By a ticket a free-hold you’ll gain, And it cannot be more free than welcome. Rum ti iddity, &c.
This house, when you once realize it, Upholders will look sharp as lynxes, For an order to Egyptianize it, With catacomb fal lals and sphynxes; Chairs and tables, a mummy-like crew, With crocodile grooms of the stole, sir, Sarcophagus coal-skuttles too, And at BISH’S you’ll fill them with cole, sir. Rum ti iddity, &c.
For when you’re thus furnish’d in state, And a pretty establishment got, sir, Ten to one but it pops in your pate, You’ll want sticks to be boiling the pot, sir; Then to BISH’S away for supplies, For mopusses they are so plenty, You may choose a ten thousand pound prize, And if you don’t like it a twenty. Rum ti iddity, &c.
Then BISH for my money, I say, The like of him never was known, sir; As Brulgruddery says in the play, “That man’s the philosopher’s stone, sir.” Then what shall we do for this man, Who makes all your fortunes so handy? Buy his tickets as fast as you can, And drink him in drops of brandy. Rum ti iddity, &c.
* * * * *
“BISH” seems to have deemed “the Philosopher’s stone,” which never existed but in silly imaginations, to be a proper device for drawing customers. It is repeated in
PADDY’S PURSUIT,
A NEW SONG.
From the county of Cork in dear Ireland I came, To England’s swate Island a fortune to gain; Where I heard that the strates were all paved with gold, And the hedges grew Guineas! so Paddy was told! I jump’d on dry land to my neck up in water, Which to some spalpeens gave subject for laughter; But, says I, with a grin, as I dragg’d myself out, “I’m not come to England to be food for a trout.” Fal de ral, de ral lal, O whack! Then to London I came, that monstracious city, Where the lads dress so gay, and the ladies look pratty; But, Och! blood-and-ouns! only mark my surprise, When only great stones in the strates met my eyes! No Guineas at all on the bushes there grew; Not a word that they told me, I found, sirs, was true: “Och! why wa’n’t I drown’d, and made food for the fish!” Thus I growled, ’till I lighted on one Master Bish. Fal de ral, &c. Master Bish had found out the Philosopher’s stone, And a Thousand yellow Guineas he gave me for One! Thus Fortune to Pat was monstraciously kind, Tho’ no gold on the bushes or strates I could find! Then honeys attend, and pursue my advice; Och! to 9, Charing-cross, be off in a trice; Buy a Lottery Chance, for the Drawing Day’s near, And perhaps, like friend Paddy, a Fortune you’ll clear. Fal de ral, &c.
* * * * *
“BISH” we find again attempting to attract, with the following:--
THE
PHILOSOPHER’S STONE.
------------------------------ That stone, Philosophers in vain so long have sought,
Says Milton, would not prove more valuable to its possessor than an absolute knowledge of certain numbers which lie hidden in the Wheel of Fortune till Fate declares to the enraptured ears of the adventurer, who has founded his hopes of success on them, their union with certain large sums of money, viz. Twenty, Ten, or Five Thousand Pounds; for there are many such sums yet in the wheel, yet to be determined, yet to be gained by hazarding a mere trifle.
He, who life’s sea successfully would sail, Must often throw a sprat to catch a whale. Apply this proverb then; think, ere too late, What fortune, honour, and what wealth await The very trifling sum[484] of one pound eight.
* * * * *
“BISH,” of course, imagined, or wished, the public to be amazingly surprised at his popularity, and therefore indulged them with this song:
WHAT’S THE MATTER?
By Quintin Query, Esq.
Tune.--“O Dear, what can the Matter be?”
“O dear, what can the matter be?” To tell, who can be at a loss? The people are running by dozens to BISH’S, To make out their dreams, and fulfil all their wishes, And try to come in for the loaves and the fishes, At 4, Cornhill, and 9, Charing-cross. “O dear, what can the matter be?” I’ll tell you, good friend, if you wish; The people are trying dame Fortune to cozen, And the old women’s tongues are eternally buzzing, About lucky numbers, 19 to the dozen, And all they can talk of is BISH. “O dear, what can the matter be?” I dare say you’re dying to know; The horns blow about, be it rainy or sunny, The walls they are cover’d with bills all so funny, To shew you the way how to finger the money, And you all know that “makes the mare go.” “O dear, what can the matter be?” The bellman he rings such a peal? To tell those whose fortunes are rusted with rickets, To call at good luck’s (that is, Bish’s) two wickets, And a transfer obtain for 500 Whole Tickets; How conceited they’d make a man feel! “O dear, what can the matter be?” For joy you’ll be dancing a jig; For good luck most folks are delighted to choose a day, And a lucky day surely must be a good news day, Then the day of all days is the very next Tuesday; Then, Misfortune’s black Monday a fig!
* * * * *
“BISH,” on another occasion, treated the “gentle public,” like so many children, with another optical delusion.
FORTUNE’S GALANTY SHOW.
Tune.--“GALANTY SHOW.”
O pretty show, O raree show, O finey galanty show, O pretty galanty show!
Chaunt.
Come, all my merry customers, of high, middling, and low degree, Look in at one of these little glasses, and you shall see what you shall see; My fine galanty show you great wonders shall view in, You shall see the high road to Fortune, and that’s better than the road to Ruin. O pretty show, O raree show, O finey galanty show, O pretty galanty show!
There you see the New Lott’ry Scheme, such as never was plann’d before! Fewer Tickets, and fewer Blanks, and yet the Prizes are more; And besides the usual 5’s, 10’s, and 20 Thousands (Peep thro’ one of these wickets,) You shall see such a Prize as was never yet known, neither more nor less than 1000 whole Tickets! O pretty show, &c. And there you shall see, (Look a little to the right) Mr. BISH’s Shop on Cornhill: (Now a little to the left) And there’s his other Shop at Charing- cross, where buy Shares if you will; You’ll get a part of the 1000 whole Tickets, I’ll be bound, And that’s very much like getting a part of more than a Hundred Thousand Pounds! O pretty show, &c. Then look straight forward, and there you see Coopers’ Hall, (Isn’t it a fine building?) there the Tickets they draw; And there you see the pretty little Blue-coat Boys, and nicer little fellows you never saw; There you’ll see ’em pulling the Numbers and Prizes out of the very Grand Wheels And when one has a Ticket in the Lottery, and sees such a sight, how narvous one feels! O pretty show, &c. And there--(Rub the glass a little cleaner) there’s a sight I’d not have you miss fora pound, The little Boy draws out a Number (Let me see what Number you have got) aye, that’s it, I’ll be bound; There don’t the Clerk (On the left hand) look exactly as if he was calling it, don’t you see how he cries? And the other little Boy draws, and the other Clerk looks as if he bawl’d out a £20,000 Prize. O pretty show, &c. There you see (’tis no Dream of Castles in the Air, called Utopia) There you see Fortune pouring the Guineas out of--what the deuce is it? a great long hard name--Oh! her Cornucopia! That’s a fine Golden Horn, that holds all the Prizes, I declare, And to get its Contents would be a pretty Horn Fair! O pretty show, &c.
* * * * *
“BISH” was pleased to devise the scheme of a Lottery to be drawn on St. Swithin’s day, wherein wine was added to the prizes, and therefore, and because its novelty was deemed alluring, we find one of his bills beginning with an apostrophising and prophetic couplet:--
Hail, famed ST. SWITHIN! who, with pow’r benign, Instead of rain pour showers of gold and wine!
Another in the same Lottery, beneath a wood-cut of a bunch of grapes, breaks out:--
On the 15th of JULY what a golden supply Of wine given gratis by BISH, If you can get but a share, you’ll have plenty to spare, And can treat all your friends as you wish.
“BISH,” on the same occasion, throws the “leer of invitation,” with
TRY IN TIME.
Och! Judy, my jewel, come here when I call; We may now get wine gratis, for nothing at all; And gold like paratees pil’d up in a heap, Which is offer’d us too, honey, almost as cheap.
But there’s no time to lose if we’re meaning to try, For ’tis all in one day, on the 15th July. And since the grand scheme is beyond all compare, He’s a spalpeen who won’t buy a fortunate share.
“BISH,” in another bill, oddly enough, put an old, one-legged smoker, with a patch over one eye, a carbuncled nose, and his only foot flannelled up for the gout, the effects of drinking, in an arm chair, with the following lines below:--
“LAID UP IN PORT.”
Od’s blood! what a time for a seaman to skulk, Like a lazy land-lubber ashore; If I’m laid up at all, I’ll be laid up in port, And surrounded by prizes galore. Tommy Bish shall fill my glass, And the puppies, as they pass, Sha’n’t run down the old commodore, The rich old commodore, the cosey old commodore, The boozing old commodore he; While I’m friends with mighty BISH, He will crown my ev’ry wish, Tho’ I’ll never more be fit for sea.
Then also, “Bish” favoured his “friends” with the opportunity of singing,
BACCHUS AND PLUTUS, OR THE UNION.
Tune.--“Derry Down.”
A ROW was kick’d up in the regions above, For PLUTUS and BACCHUS for precedence strove; And in words such as these did their anger express, Till JOVE swore he’d kick them both out of the mess. Derry down.
First BACCHUS advanc’d, tho’ he scarcely could stand, Determin’d, he swore, to have the whip hand; And thus he began.--“Why, you sordid old elf, All your thoughts are employ’d in the scraping of pelf.
“Can gold, I would ask, e’er enliven the soul Like the juice of the grape, or a full flowing bowl? Can the glittering bauble such pleasure impart, Or make the blood circle so warm round the heart?
“That gold is an evil, there’s many will say, As my vot’ries oft find when the reck’ning’s to pay; Had gold ne’er existed, the true jolly fellow For ever might tipple, and always get mellow.
“I swear by old Styx!--that this truth it will stand:” But the wine in his noddle usurp’d the command,-- A knock-’em-down argument BACCHUS soon found, For quickly he measur’d his length on the ground.
“As BACCHUS is down,” then says PLUTUS, “I’ll rise;” And this speech he address’d to the knobs of the skies:-- “That gold is a blessing, I’m sure I can prove: The soother of cares, and cementer of love!
“You know the old proverb, of poverty, sure, ’Tis something about--‘_when she enters the door, That love, through the window, soon toddles away_;’ But if there were gold, I’m sure that he’d stay.
“I’ll own that my bounties are sometimes misus’d: But pray why should I, sirs, for that be abus’d?” Here JOVE stopp’d him short, and with positive air, Insisted that they should their quarrel forbear.
“Your claims I admit, sir, and BACCHUS’ too; But a plan to unite you, I now have in view; You know TOMMY BISH?”--“To be sure!” exclaim all, “’Tis on him, that dame Fortune her bounty lets fall!”
“Well,--a Lottery he’s plann’d, with an union rare, Where money and wine each come in for a share; There are three thirty thousands to gratify you; And the twelve pipes of wine, sirs, for BACCHUS will do.”
Says BACCHUS to PLUTUS--“Then give us your hand, I’ll tipple his wine, till no more I can stand; And as JOVE has inform’d us there’s money enough, Why you, Mister PLUTUS, can finger the stuff.
“Besides, I have heard, or my memory’s fail’d, How greatly last Lott’ry his luck has prevail’d; The three twenty thousands, he sold (the rum fish!) Then let us be off, and buy tickets of BISH!” Derry down.
“BISH,” who in the former bill had subjoined, in plain prose, that “lotteries must end for ever,” likewise issued the following--
DUTIES ON WINES.
The minister in reducing the duty, so that wines may be sold at one shilling per bottle cheaper, has done much to increase the spirits of the people; at the same time he has adopted another measure that will in a few months DESTROY THE FREE TRADE of every person in the kingdom to obtain for a small sum a great fortune in a few weeks, by having determined to abolish Lotteries, which must soon end for ever; therefore, the present is one of the last opportunities to buy, &c.
* * * * *
“BISH,” according to the old plan, “ever ready to serve his friends,” issued
THE AMBULATOR’S GUIDE TO THE LAND OF PLENTY.
BY PURCHASING A TICKET, In the present Lottery,
You may reap a golden harvest in Cornhill, and pick up the bullion in Silver-street; have an interest in Bank-buildings; possess a Mansion-house in Golden-square, and an estate like a Little Britain; pour red wine down Gutter-lane; never be in _Hunger_ford-market; but all your life continue a May-fair.
BY PURCHASING A HALF,
You need never be confined within London-wall, but become the proprietor of many a Long-acre; represent a Borough, or an Aldermanbury; and have a snug share in Threadneedle-street.
BY PURCHASING A QUARTER,
Your affairs need never be in Crooked-lane, nor your legs in Fetter-lane; you may avoid Paper-buildings; steer clear of the King’s-bench, and defy the Marshalsea; if your heart is in Love-lane, you may soon get into Sweetings-alley, obtain your lover’s consent for Matrimony-place, and always live in a High-street.
BY PURCHASING AN EIGHTH,
You may ensure plenty of provision for Swallow-street; finger the Cole in Coleman-street; and may never be troubled with Chancery-lane; you may cast anchor in Cable-street; set up business in a Fore-street, or a Noble-street; and need never be confined within a Narrow-wall.
BY PURCHASING A SIXTEENTH,
You may live frugal in Cheapside; get merry in Liquorpond-street; soak your hide in Leather-lane; be a wet sole in Shoe-lane; turn maltster in Beer-lane, or hammer away in Smithfield.
In short, life must indeed be a Long-lane, if it’s without a turning. Therefore if you are wise, without Mincing the matter, be Fleet and go Pall-mall to Cornhill or Charing-cross, and enroll your name in the Temple of Fortune, BISH’s.
LOTTERY FOR WOMEN IN INDIA.
Advertisement.
“BE IT KNOWN, that SIX FAIR PRETTY YOUNG LADIES, with two sweet and engaging young children, lately IMPORTED FROM EUROPE, having roses of health blooming on their cheeks, and joy sparkling in their eyes, possessing amiable manners, and highly accomplished, whom the most indifferent cannot behold without expressions of rapture, are to be RAFFLED FOR next door to the British gallery. SCHEME: twelve tickets, at twelve rupees each; the highest of the three throws, doubtless, takes the most fascinating, &c.”[485]
* * * * *
The four engravings on this page, with the lines beneath them, are from other Lottery bills.
“Throw Physic to the Dogs,” for me The best composing draught’s a Fee; For sinking Chest, low pulse, or cold, There’s no Specific equals Gold.
“My Dancing Days are over!”
Though the lotteries soon will be over, I’m told, That now is the time to get pailsful of gold; And if there is any real truth in a dream, I myself shall come in for a share of the cream. We hail, ere the Sun, the first breath of the morn, And ’tis said “early birds get the best of the corn,” Of the Four Twenty Thousands perhaps fortune may Have in store one for me, as they’re drawn in One Day!
For the gay fruits of nature what wish can you feel, When compar’d with the fruits of the lottery wheel; My basket of fruit I’d exchange with great glee, If one golden pippin they’d only give me.
“BISH, contractor for another Lottery,” during the proceedings in parliament respecting the queen, availed himself of a celebrated answer by one of the witnesses at the bar of the house of lords, and issued the following:--
NON MI RICORDO!
OR,
A few Questions on a new Subject.
QUESTION.
Good Signor, if your memory serves, A question I would ask or two; Then pray may I the favour beg, That you will answer, if I do?
ANSWER.
Non mi ricordo, I can’t say, Whether my mem’ry serves or no; But let me hear them first, I pray; What I remember you shall know.
QUESTION.
Since Lotteries in this realm began, And many good ones there have been, Do you suppose the oldest man, So good a Scheme at this has seen?
ANSWER.
Non mi ricordo, surely no; Comparisons are idle tales, For such a Lottery Scheme as this, I must confess my memory fails.
QUESTION.
Now what peculiar features, pray, Distinguish this from all the rest? And why do all the people say, “Unquestionably this is best?”
ANSWER.
Non mi ricordo, ’tis in vain For me its merits now to say; To tell them all ’twould take, ’tis plain, From now until the Drawing Day.
QUESTION.
Its merits I will gladly own, But folks will questions ask, and pray If your opinion is requir’d, Just tell me, sir, what you would say?
ANSWER.
Non mi ricordo: read the Scheme, One word will answer all your wish ’Tis BISH’s plan, ’tis BISH’s theme, It must be good, ’tis plann’d by BISH.
* * * * *
“BISH,” in the annexed, puffs at Queen Anne’s prize of “5000 pounds,” as “so small.” This may be imagined to have been asserted under poetical licence; for, in fact, 5000_l._ in those days was almost equal to the largest prize in modern Lotteries.
THE
Bonne Bouche of Lotteries.
Tune.--“MODERATION AND ALTERATION.”
In the reign of Queen Anne, when first Lott’ries were invented, With very few Prizes Advent’rers were contented; The largest of which, (so small were Fortune’s bounds,) “Paid in faire Plate,” was but 5000 Pounds. Moderation! Moderation! O, what a wonderful Moderation!
Soon 5000_l._ was deem’d but a small Bait, And 10,000 then was the Great Prize of State: Twenty follow’d soon after, then Thirty--bold push! And at last 40,000 was made the Bonne Bouche! Alteration! Alteration! &c.
Now the Lott’ry Contractors a New Plan pursue, All former outdoings resolv’d to outdo; And have struck out a Plan to increase Public Gain, By which, One Hundred Thousand Pounds you may obtain. Temptation! Temptation! &c.
If two Numbers are drawn in a specifi’d way, 1000 Whole Tickets the Holders repay; And a 1000 Whole Tickets a Chance may reveal, Of all the Great Prizes contain’d in the Wheel. Admiration! Admiration! &c. O, what a subject for Admiration!
Now if you could get them, and ’twouldn’t be strange, For the rest of your life, how your fortune would change! A Coach, a Town-House, and a Country-House, too! Leading Man in the County!--O, wou’dn’t that do? Fascination! Fascination! &c.
Then of Loans, and such fat things, such slices you’d gain! Then a Member of Parliament’s Seat you’d obtain! Next Knighthood--then Baronet--and in a short space, A Peerage--“My Lord!” and at last, “Please your Grace!” Exaltation! Exaltation! &c.
Such things are quite flattering, and surely such are, But a Pleasure far greater remains to declare; Consider, what Power Wealth and Honour procure, To relieve the Oppress’d, and to succour the Poor. Exultation! Exultation! &c.
Then with Patriot Ardour your Country to serve, For Riches are Curses, from[486] these if you swerve; And all this may be gain’d, if your Fortune you try, And of BISH, Fortune’s Favorite, a Ticket you buy. Expectation! Expectation! &c.
* * * * *
“BISH,” whose bills may be taken as a specimen of such kind of Lottery advertisements by whomever issued, will be observed to have constantly addressed them to the lowest minds and the meanest capacities. One more may further exemplify the remark:--
THE AGE OF WONDERS.
Tune.--“Bang up.”
This is a Wonder working age, by all it is agreed on, And Wonders rise up ev’ry day, for public gaze to feed on; To sketch a few ’tis my intent, while now I’m in the mind, sir, And crown them all with one you’ll own, will leave them far behind, sir. Then push along; for something new, the public taste will dash on: For Wonders now are all the rage, and novelty’s the fashion. The juggling Indians show such feats, a lady’s taste ’twould shock it, They swallow swords, and swallow too the _money from our pocket_, A gentle fair, by fear unmov’d, with courage she so fraught is, On red-hot iron skips a dance, and bathes in aqua-fortis. Then push along; for something new, the public taste will dash on, For Wonders now are all the rage, and novelty’s the fashion. The greatest Wonder yet to tell, which all the world surprizes, Is BISH’s famous Lottery, and BISH’s wondrous prizes, Three fifty thousands grace the scheme, which yet remain undrawn, sir, A wonder which was never known since any man was born, sir. Then push along, to BISH’s go! of fortune he’s the man, sir, A vote of thanks, nem. con. we’ll pass for such a noble plan, sir.[487]
* * * * *
“BISH” when, what he called, “The Last Lottery of All!” had arrived, very cavalierly turned round on the government; and, on the eve of becoming a candidate for a seat in the house of commons, paid his compliments to his future colleagues in the following address:--
TO THE PUBLIC.
At the present moment, when so many articles, necessary to the comforts of the poorer classes, are more or less liable to taxation, it may surely be a question, whether the abolition of Lotteries, by which the state was a gainer of nearly half a million per annum, be, or be not, a wise measure!
’Tis true, that, as they were formerly conducted, the system was fraught with some evil. Insurances were allowed upon the fate of numbers through protracted drawings, and as the insurances could be effected for very small sums, those who could ill afford loss, imbibed a spirit for gambling, which the legislature very wisely most effectually prevented, by adopting, in the year 1809, the present improved mode of deciding the whole Lottery in one day.
As it is at present conducted, the Lottery is a voluntary tax, contributed to only by those who can afford it, and collected without trouble or expense; one, by which many branches of the revenue are considerably aided, and by means of which hundreds of persons find employment. The wisdom of those who at this time resign the income produced by it, and add to the number of the unemployed, may, as I have observed in a former address, surely be questioned.
Mr. Pitt, whose ability, in matters of financial arrangement, few will question, and whose morality was proverbial, would not, I am bold to say, have yielded to an outcry against a tax, the continuing of which would have enabled him to let the labourer drink his humble beverage at a reduced price, or the industrious artisan to pursue his occupation by a cheaper light. But we live in other times--in the age of improvement!--To stake patrimonial estates at hazard or écarte in the purlieus of St. James’s is merely amusement, but to purchase a ticket in the Lottery, by means of which a man may gain an estate at a trifling risk, is--immoral! nay, within a few hours of the time I write, were not many of our nobility and senators, some of whom, I dare say, voted against Lotteries, assembled betting thousand upon a horse race?
In saying so much, it may be thought that I am somewhat presumptuous, or that I take a partial view of the case. It is, however, my honest opinion, abstracted from personal considerations, that the measure of abolishing Lotteries is an unwise one, and as such I give it to that public, of whom I have been for many years the highly favoured servant, and for whose patronage, though Lotteries cease, my gratitude will ever continue.
As one of the last contractors, I have assisted in arranging a scheme, &c.! &c.!! &c.!!!
* * * * *
After this, perhaps, the reader may exclaim “I am satisfied!” and therefore, as we have the assurance of Mr. Bish that there will “never be another Lottery” to be lamented, the time has arrived for subjoining the following
~Epitaph.~
In Memory of THE STATE LOTTERY, the last of a long line whose origin in England commenced in the year 1569,[488] which, after a series of tedious complaints, Expired on the 18th day of October, 1826. During a period of 257 years, the family flourished under the powerful protection of the British Parliament; the minister of the day continuing to give them his support for the improvement of the revenue. As they increased, it was found that their continuance corrupted the morals, and encouraged a spirit of Speculation and Gambling among the lower classes of the people; thousands of whom fell victims to their insinuating and tempting allurements. Many philanthropic individuals in the Senate, at various times for a series of years, pointed out their baneful influence without effect, His Majesty’s Ministers still affording them their countenance and protection. The British Parliament being at length convinced of their mischievous tendency, HIS MAJESTY GEORGE IV., on the 9th July, 1823,[489] pronounced sentence of condemnation on the whole race; from which time they were almost NEGLECTED BY THE BRITISH PUBLIC. Very great efforts were made by the Partisans and friends of the family to excite the public feeling in favour of the last of the race, in vain: It continued to linger out the few remaining moments of its existence without attention or sympathy, and finally terminated its career unregretted by any virtuous mind.
W. P.
~Interesting Addenda.~
A few remarkable facts, which were omitted in the proper order of narration, are now inserted.
ANCIENT LOTTERY.
About 1612 king James I., “in special favour for the plantation of English colonies in Virginia, granted a Lottery to be held at the west end of St. Paul’s; whereof one Thomas Sharplys, a taylor of London, had the chief prize, which was four thousand crowns in fair plate.”[490]
A DOUBLE MISTAKE.
Old Baron d’Aguilar, the Islington miser, was requested by a relation to purchase a particular ticket, No. 14,068, in the Lottery to be drawn in the year 1802, (but which was sold some few days before). The baron died on the 16th of March following, and the number was the first-drawn ticket on the 24th, and, as such, entitled to twenty thousand pounds. The baron’s representatives, under these circumstances, therefore published an advertisement, offering a reward of 1000_l._ to any person who might have found the said ticket, and would deliver it up. Payment was stopped. A wholesale linen-draper, in Cornhill, who had ordered his broker to buy him ten tickets, which he deposited in his chest, on copying the numbers, for the purpose of examining them, made a mistake of one figure, and called it 14,168 instead of 14,068, which was the 20,000_l._ prize. The lottery being finished, he sent ten tickets to be examined and marked. To his utter astonishment, he then found the error of the number copied on his paper. On his demanding payment at the lottery office, a caveat was entered by old d’Aguilar’s executors; but an explanation taking place, the 20,000_l._ was immediately paid him.
CHRISTOPHER BARTHOLOMEW.
This person, who inherited a good fortune from his parents, was prosperous in his business, and had every prospect of success and eminence in life, fell a victim to an unconquerable itch for gambling in the Lottery. At one time, the White-conduit-house, with its tea-gardens and other premises, as also the Angel-inn, now the best tavern in Islington, were his freeholds: and he rented land to the amount of 2000_l._ a year, in the neighbourhood of that place, and Holloway. He was remarkable for having the greatest quantity of haystacks of any grower in the neighbourhood of London. He kept his carriage and servants in livery, and was believed to have been worth 50,000_l._ He was not only the proprietor, but the landlord of White-conduit-house, to which, by his taste in laying out its grounds, and the manner of conducting his business, he attracted great custom. On one occasion, having been unusually successful in the Lottery, he gave a public breakfast at his tea-gardens, “to commemorate the smiles of Fortune,” as he so expressed himself upon the tickets of admission at this fête champêtre.
At times he was very fortunate in the Lottery, and this tended to increase the mania which hurried him to his ruin. He was known to have spent upwards of 2000 guineas in a day for insurance, to raise which, stack after stack of his immense crops of hay were cut down and hurried to market, as the readiest way to obtain the supplies for these extraordinary outgoings; and at last he was obliged to part with his freehold, from accumulated difficulties and embarrassments, and he passed the remaining thirteen years of his life in great poverty, subsisting by the charity of those who knew him in “better days,” and by the paltry emolument he derived from serving as a juryman in the sheriff’s court for the county. His propensity to the Lottery, even under these degrading difficulties, never forsook him. Meeting one day, in the year 1807, with an old acquaintance, he told him he had a strong presentiment, that if he could purchase a particular number in the ensuing Lottery it would prove successful. His friend, after remonstrating with him on the impropriety of persevering in a practice that had been already attended with such evil consequences, was at last persuaded to advance the money to purchase a sixteenth, and go halves with him in the adventure. It was drawn a prize of 20,000_l._, and from the proceeds from this extraordinary turn of fortune, he was prevailed upon to purchase an annuity of 60_l._ per annum. Totally addicted, however, to the pernicious habit of insurance, he disposed of his annuity, and lost every shilling of the money; yet such was the meanness of his mind and circumstances, that he frequently applied to persons who had been served by him in his prosperity, for an old coat, or some other article of cast apparel; and not many days before he died, he begged a few shillings to purchase necessaries.
Bartholomew in intellect and manners was superior to the generality of men, and at one time possessed the esteem of all who knew him. His fate may be a warning to all ranks, particularly to those who are in trade, not to engage in hazardous pursuits. He died in a two pair of stairs room, in Angel-court, Windmill-street, in the Haymarket, in March, 1809, aged 68.[491]
* * * * *
A correspondent refers to Rees’s Cyclopædia as containing a good account of Lotteries, with table of chances relative to their schemes; and he adds, that Dr. Kelly, the well-known calculator, assured him he had ascertained that the chances of obtaining certain prizes were even more against the adventurer than would appear by those tables.
* * * * *
When the tickets were publicly drawn in Guildhall, and the drawing was protracted for several weeks, it was a curious sight for an indifferent spectator to go and behold the visages of the anxious crowd; to mark the hopes and the fears that seemed to agitate them, as their numbers or numbers near to theirs were announced. It is a fact, that poor medical practitioners used constantly to attend in the hall, to be ready to let blood, in cases where the sudden proclaiming of the fate of tickets in the hearing of the holders of them, was found to have an overpowering effect upon their spirits. The late Mr. Dalmahoy, of Ludgate-hill, was accustomed to affirm, that he owed his first establishment in a business which afterwards proved so prosperous, to the gratitude of a person, to whose assistance, when a young man, he had stept in, upon one of those critical emergencies.[492]
ORIGIN OF LOTTERIES.
The historian of “Inventions” says, that if, as some had done, he were to “reckon among the first traces of Lotteries every division of property made by lot, it might be said that Joshua partitioned the promised land into Lottery prizes before it was conquered.” In his opinion, the peculiarity of Lotteries consists in their numbers being distributed gratuitously, or, as in public Lotteries, for a certain price; it being left to chance to determine what numbers were to obtain the prizes, the value of which had been previously settled. He speaks of the “conditions and changes invented by ingenuity to entice people to purchase shares, and to conceal and increase the gain of the undertakers;” and, of the “delusion they occasion to credulous and ignorant people, by exciting hopes that have little probability in their favour.” He deems that the hint of modern Lottery was derived from the Romans. The rich persons at Rome, and particularly the emperors, endeavoured to attach the people by distributing among them presents consisting of eatables and other expensive articles, which were named congiaria. Tokens, or tickets, called tesseræ (in Greek συμζολα,) were generally given out, and the possessors, on presenting them at the store or magazine of the donor, received those things which they announced. In many cases, these tickets were distributed to every person who applied for them, and then these donations resembled our distribution of bread, but not our Lotteries, in which chance must determine the number of those who were to participate in the number of things distributed. In the course of time, the Roman populace was called together, and the articles distributed thrown to them from a stage. Such things were called missilia, and belonged to those who had the good fortune to catch them; but as oil, wine, corn, and such like articles, could not be distributed in this manner, and as other articles were injured by the too great eagerness of the people, tokens or tickets were thrown in their stead. These were square pieces of wood or metal, and sometimes balls of wood, inscribed with the names of the articles. Those who had obtained these tesseræ were allowed to transfer or sell them.[493]
* * * * *
Under “Lottery,” an antiquary refers to the pittacia of Petronius. The Romans issued gratis, to their visitors in the Saturnalia, tickets which were all prizes, and marked with inscriptions called apophoreta. The Lotteries of Augustus were mere bagatelles for sport; Nero’s were very costly; those of Heliogabalus ridiculous; as, a ticket for six slaves, another for six flies, &c. these were handed round in vases.[494]
* * * * *
Imitations, on a reduced scale, of the Roman congiaria have amused the continental princes and princesses of modern times. They distribute small presents to their courtiers, by causing trinkets or toys to be marked with numbers; the numbers being written on separate tickets, which are rolled up and put into a small basket or basin.[495]
* * * * *
In Italy, during the middle ages, the merchants or shop-keepers, in order to sell their wares more speedily and advantageously, converted their shops into offices of luck, where each person, for a small sum, was allowed to draw a number from the jar of fortune, which entitled the holder to the article written upon it; but as these shop-keepers gained excessive profits, and cheated the credulous people, by setting on their wares an extravagant price, which was concealed by the blanks, these practices were prohibited, or permitted only under strict inspection, and on paying a certain sum to the poor, or the sovereign.
From hence was derived the modern Lottery of the continent, when articles of merchandise were no longer employed as prizes, but certain sums of money instead, the amount of which was determined by the amount of money received, after the expenses and gain of the conductors were deducted. In these Lotteries, the tickets were publicly drawn by the charity boys, blindfolded. As they could not be conducted without defrauding the adventurers, it was at first believed, through old-fashioned conscientiousness, that it was unlawful to take advantage of the folly and credulity of the people, except for pious or charitable purposes. The gains were sometimes applied to the portioning of poor young women, the redemption of captives, or the formation of funds for the indigent, and other benificent objects. It was vainly imagined, that these public games of hazard would banish others still more dangerous; nor was it foreseen, that the exposure of tickets for sale, and their division into shares, would maintain and diffuse a spirit of gambling. This, however, was the result, and the profit from Lotteries became so great, that princes and ministers were induced to employ them as operations of finance: the people were forbidden to purchase tickets in foreign Lotteries, and, in order that the tickets of the state might be disposed of sooner, and with more certainty, many rulers were so shameless as to pay part of the salaries of their servants in tickets, and to compel guild companies and societies to expend in Lotteries what money they had saved. In 1764, this abuse was mentioned by the states of Wirtemburg among the public grievances, and in 1770 the duke promised that it should be abolished.
* * * * *
So early as 1521, the council of Osnaburg, in Germany, established a Lottery with wearing articles of merchandise for the prizes. In 1615, the magistrates of Hamburgh sanctioned a Lottery for building a house of correction in that city. An engraving is mentioned with the following title, “Representation of the Loto Publico, which was drawn in the large hall of the council-house at Nuremburg, anno 1715.” This is supposed to have been the first Lottery in that city. The first Lottery at Berlin was drawn in July, 1740; it contained 20,000 tickets at five dollars each; there were 4028 prizes; and the capital one was a house worth 24,000 dollars.
* * * * *
In 1549, a Lottery was drawn at Amsterdam for the building a church steeple; and another at Delft in 1595. In the hospital for old men, at Amsterdam, there is a beautiful painting by Daniel Vinckenbooms, which represents the drawing of a Lottery in the night time. He was born about 1578, and died in 1629.
* * * * *
In France, whither the Lottery was introduced from Italy, it was set on foot by merchants, and the only prizes were articles of merchandise: but, in 1539, Francis I. endeavoured to turn them to his own advantage. He permitted them under the inspection of certain members of the government, with a view, as was pretended, of banishing deceptive and pernicious games of chance; but on condition that he should receive for every ticket a teston de dix sols six deniers. It appears, however, from a royal order of recommendation, in February, 1541, that this Lottery was not then completed, and it is not known whether it ever was.
* * * * *
In 1572 and 1588, Louis de Gonzague duc de Nivernois established a Lottery at Paris, for the purpose of giving marriage portions to poor virtuous young women on his estates. The prize tickets were inscribed Dieu vous a élue, or, Dieu vous console; the former insured to the young woman who drew it 500 francs on her wedding-day; the latter, inscribed on the blanks, suggested the hope of better fortune the year following. No Lottery was ever drawn with so much ceremony and parade. Pope Sextus V. promised those who promoted it the remission of their sins: and, before the drawing, which began every year on Palm Sunday, mass was said.
* * * * *
Ladies of quality were induced by this example to establish similar Lotteries for the building or repairing of churches or convents, and other religious or benevolent purposes. Three ladies set on foot a Lottery with tickets at 40 sous each, for redeeming persons who had fallen into slavery among the Turks. Some other ladies instituted a Lottery in behalf of their confessor, who had been made a bishop, that they might buy him a carriage and horses, with other requisites, to support his episcopal dignity.
French history records the institution of many Lotteries as the means employed to make valuable presents to ladies, and other persons of distinction. It is supposed the largest of the kind was one designed by cardinal Mazarine, to increase his splendour and popularity among the courtiers. The tickets were distributed as presents.[496]
* * * * *
Louis XIV., on the days which were not fast days, went to dine at Marly with madame de Maintenon and other ladies. After dinner, the minister who wished to converse with him arrived, and when his business was finished, if they did not walk, he conversed, listened to music, played at cards, or helped to draw Lotteries, the tickets of which cost nothing, but were all prizes. They were composed of trinkets, jewels, and silks; but there were never any snuff-boxes, because he could not endure snuff, or suffer those who used it to approach him.[497]
* * * * *
In the seventeenth century these games of chance grew into Lotteries, in the proper sense of the word. During a scarcity of money which prevailed in 1644, Lawrence Tonti came from Naples to Paris, and proposed that kind of life-rents, or annuities, which are named after him Tontines; though they were used in Italy long before his time. After tedious disputes, his proposal was rejected; for which, in 1556, he substituted, with the royal approbation, a large Lottery in order to raise funds for building a stone bridge and an aqueduct. This Lottery was never completed, and consequently never drawn; and a wooden bridge was constructed, instead of that which had been burnt. The first Lottery on the plan of Tonti was set on foot at Paris in 1660, when the conclusion of peace, and the marriage of Louis XIV., were celebrated. It was drawn publicly, under the inspection of the police. The price of each ticket was a Louis d’or, which at that time was only eleven livres; and the highest prize was a hundred thousand livres. This was gained by the king himself, but he would not receive it, and left it to the next Lottery, in which he had no ticket. In 1661, all private Lotteries were prohibited under severe penalties, and from that time there were no other Lotteries than the Loteries royales.[498]
* * * * *
The ill-famed Italian or Genoese Lottery in Germany was, as its name shows, an invention of the Genoese, and arose from the mode in which the members of the senate were elected; for when that republic existed in a state of freedom, the names of the eligible candidates were thrown into a vessel called seminario, or, in modern times, into a wheel of fortune; and during the drawings of them it was customary for people to lay bets in regard to those who might be successful. That is to say, one chose the name of two or three nobili, for these only could be elected, and ventured upon them, according to pleasure, a piece of money; while, on the other hand, the opposite party, or the undertaker of the bank, who had the means of forming a pretty accurate conjecture in regard to names that would be drawn, doubled the stakes several times. Afterwards the state itself undertook the bank for these bets, which was attended with so much advantage; and the drawing of the names was performed with great ceremony. The venerabile was exposed, and high mass was celebrated, at which all the candidates were obliged to be present.
* * * * *
A member of the senate, named Benedetto Gentile, is said to have first introduced this Lottery, in the year 1620; and it is added, that the name of Gentile having never been drawn, the people took it into their heads that he, and his names, had been carried away by the devil. But at length, the wheel being taken to pieces in order to be mended, the name, which by some accident had never been drawn was found concealed in it.
This mode of Lottery is presumed to have been peculiar to the Genoese, who, for their own benefit established in many continental towns commissioners, to dispose of tickets, and to pay the prizes to those who had been fortunate.
* * * * *
These pernicious Lotteries continued till the end of the eighteenth century, when they were almost every where abolished and forbidden. To the honour of the Hanoverian government, no Lotto was ever introduced into it, though many foreigners offered large sums for permission to cheat the people in this manner. Those who wish to see the prohibitions issued against the Lotto, after making a great part of the people lazy, indigent, and thievish, may find them in Schlozer’s Staats-Anzeigen,
Si son exécrable mémoire Parvient à la postérité, C’est que le crime, aussi bien que la gloire, Conduit à l’immortalité.[499]
THE LAST LOTTERY IN ENGLAND.
Elia says, in the “New Monthly Magazine,”--“The true mental epicure always purchased his ticket early, and postponed inquiry into its fate to the last possible moment, during the whole of which intervening period he had an imaginary twenty thousand locked up in his desk--and was not this well worth all the money? Who would scruple to give twenty pounds interest for even the ideal enjoyment of as many thousands during two or three months? ‘Crede quod habes, et habes,’ and the usufruct of such a capital is surely not dear at such a price. Some years ago, a gentleman in passing along Cheapside saw the figures 1069, of which number he was the sole proprietor, flaming on the window of a Lottery office as a capital prize. Somewhat flurried by this discovery, not less welcome than unexpected, he resolved to walk round St. Paul’s, that he might consider in what way to communicate the happy tidings to his wife and family; out upon repassing the shop, he observed that the number was altered to 10,069; and, upon inquiry, had the mortification to learn that his ticket was blank, and had only been stuck up in the window by a mistake of the clerk. This effectually calmed his agitation; but he always speaks of himself as having once possessed twenty thousand pounds, and maintains that his ten minutes’ walk round St. Paul’s was worth ten times the purchase-money of the ticket. A prize thus obtained has moreover this special advantage;--it is beyond the reach of fate, it cannot be squandered, bankruptcy cannot lay siege to it, friends cannot pull it down, nor enemies blow it up; it bears a charmed life, and none of woman-born can break its integrity, even by the dissipation of a single fraction. Show me the property in these perilous times that is equally compact and impregnable. We can no longer become enriched for a quarter of an hour; we can no longer succeed in such splendid failures; all our chances of making such a miss have vanished with the Last of the Lotteries.
“Life will now become a flat, prosaic routine of matter-of-fact; and sleep itself, erst so prolific of numerical configurations and mysterious stimulants to Lottery adventure, will be disfurnished of its figures and figments. People will cease to harp upon the one lucky number suggested in a dream, and which forms the exception, while they are scrupulously silent upon the ten thousand falsified dreams which constitute the rule. Morpheus will stifle Cocker with a handful of poppies, and our pillows will be no longer haunted by the book of numbers.
“And who, too, shall maintain the art and mystery of puffing in all its pristine glory when the Lottery professors shall have abandoned its cultivation? They were the first, as they will assuredly be the last, who fully developed the resources of that ingenious art; who cajoled and decoyed the most suspicious and wary reader into a perusal of their advertisements, by devices of endless variety and cunning; who baited their lurking schemes with midnight murders, ghost stories, crim-cons, bon-mots, balloons, dreadful catastrophes, and every diversity of joy and sorrow to catch newspaper-gudgeons. Ought not such talents to be encouraged? Verily, the abolitionists have much to answer for!”
* * * * *
Here, at last, ends the notices respecting the Lottery, of which much has been said, because of all depraving institutions it had the largest share in debasing society while it existed: and because, after all, perhaps, the monster is “only scotched, not killed.”
[429] See vol. i. col. 1486.
[430] Morning Herald, Sept. 3, 1817.
[431] Maitland’s London.
[432] Gentleman’s Magazine, 1778.
[433] Stow, in his Annals.
[434] Ibid.
[435] Gentleman’s Magazine, 1798.
[436] Anderson’s History of Commerce.
[437] Malcolm’s Manners.
[438] “Whereas some give out that they could never receive their books after they were drawn in the first lottery, the author declares, and it will be attested, that of seven hundred prizes that were drawn, there were not six remaining Prizes that suffered with his in the fire; for the drawing being on the 10th of May, 1665, the office did then continue open for the delivery of the same (though the contagion much raged) until the latter end of July following; and opened again, to attend the delivery, in April, 1666, whither persons repaired daily for their prizes, and continued open until the fire.”
[439] Gentleman’s Magazine.
[440] Malcolm’s Manners.
[441] Anderson.
[442] Malcolm.
[443] Ibid.
[444] Anderson.
[445] Spectator, No. 191.
[446] Sunday, October 22, 1826.
[447] The Times, November 3, 1826.
[448] Mr. Smeeton in the Examiner.
[449] Malcolm.
[450] Smollett.
[451] Gentleman’s Magazine.
[452] Lounger’s Common Place Book.
[453] Smollett.
[454] Gentleman’s Magazine.
[455] Anderson.
[456] Gentleman’s Magazine, 1731.
[457] Gentleman’s Magazine.
[458] Gentleman’s Magazine, 1739.
[459] The Champion, January 10, 1740.
[460] Gentleman’s Magazine.
[461] Ibid.
[462] Maitland. Gentleman’s Magazine.
[463] Universal Magazine.
[464] Gentleman’s Magazine.
[465] Ibid.
[466] Smollett. Gentleman’s Magazine.
[467] Gentleman’s Magazine.
[468] In the Universal Magazine for December.
[469] Universal Magazine.
[470] Memoir of Holland in Universal Magazine.
[471] Gentleman’s Magazine.
[472] Ibid.
[473] Universal Magazine.
[474] Gentleman’s Magazine.
[475] Ibid.
[476] Ibid.
[477] Ibid.
[478] Anderson.
[479] Universal Magazine.
[480] Town and Country Magazine.
[481] Universal Magazine.
[482] Report of Committee of House of Commons on Lotteries, 1808.
[483] Report of Police Committee of House of Commons 1816.
[484] The price of a Sixteenth in the present Lottery.
[485] Communicated by J. J. A. F. from a Calcutta newspaper of Sept. 3, 1818.
[486] Charity and Patriotism.
[487] This and other of the bills quoted are lent by our correspondent, J. J. A. F. from his Lottery Collections.
[488] See ante.
[489] The day the royal assent was given to the last Lottery act.
[490] Baker’s Chronicle.
[491] Mr. Nelson’s History of Islington.
[492] A few interesting Anecdotes, &c. 18mo. 1810.
[493] Beckmann.
[494] Fosbroke, Ency. of Antiquities.
[495] Beckmann.
[496] Ibid.
[497] Private Life of Louis XIV.
[498] Beckmann.
[499] Ibid.
~November 16.~
EXTRAORDINARY LUNAR HALO.
On the night of this day in 1823, about half past nine o’clock, Dr. T. Forster observed a very remarkable and brilliant phenomenon about the moon. It was a coloured discoid halo, consisting of six several concentric circles; the nearest to the moon, or the first disk around her, being dull white, then followed circles of orange, violet, crimson, green, and vermillion; the latter, or outermost, subtending in its diameter an angle of above ten degrees. This phenomenon was evidently produced by a refraction in the white mist of a stratus, which prevailed through the night, but it varied in its colours, as well as in its brilliancy, at different times.[500]
NATURALISTS’ CALENDAR.
Mean Temperature 43·00.
WHIMS AND ODDITIES.
The company of odd-looking personages playing at nine-pins in the hollow of the wild mountain, were not greater objects of wonder to Rip Van Winkle, than forty original designs by Mr. Hood will be to the reader who looks for the first time at this gentleman’s “Whims and Oddities.”[501]
All the world knows, or ought to know, that among persons called literary there are a few peculiarly littery; who master an article through confusion of head and materials, and, having achieved the setting of their thoughts and places “to rights,” celebrate the important victory by the triumph of a short repose. At such a minute, after my last toilsome adventure in the “Lottery,” sitting in my little room before the fire, and looking into it with the comfortable knowledge that the large table behind me was “free from all incumbrances,” I yearned for a recreative dip into something new, when Mr. Hood’s volume, in a parcel bearing the superscription of a kind hand, was put into mine. It came in the very nick; and, as I amused myself, I resolved to be thenceforth, and therefrom, as agreeable as possible to my readers.
* * * * *
On the title-page of Mr. Hood’s book is this motto, “O Cicero! Cicero! if to pun be a crime, ’tis a crime I have learned of thee: O Bias! Bias! if to pun be a crime, by thy example I was biassed!--Scriblerus.”
The first engraving that opened on me was of
In this figure, “a medley of human faces, wherein certain features belong in common to different visages,--the eyebrow of one, for instance, forming the mouth of another,”--Mr. Hood has successfully “tried to typify a common characteristic of dreams; namely, the entanglement of divers ideas, to the waking mind distinct or incongruous, but, by the confusion of sleep, inseparably ravelled up, and knotted into Gordian intricacies. For, as the equivocal feature, in the emblem, belongs indifferently to either countenance, but is appropriated by the head that happens to be presently the object of contemplation; so, in a dream, two separate notions will mutually involve some convertible incident, that becomes, by turns, a symptom of both in general, or of either in particular. Thus are begotten the most extravagant associations of thoughts and images,--unnatural connections, like those marriages of forbidden relationships, where mothers become cousins to their own sons or daughters, and quite as bewildering as such genealogical embarrassments.”
As an illustration of this kind of dream, the author relates a dismal one, “which originated in the failure of his first and last attempt as a dramatic writer;” and another, wherein the preliminaries were pleasant, and the conclusion was whimsical. “It occurred,” says Mr. Hood, “when I was on the eve of marriage; a season, when, if lovers sleep sparingly, they dream profusely. A very brief slumber sufficed to carry me in the night-coach to Bognor. It had been concerted, between Honoria and myself, that we should pass the honeymoon at some such place upon the coast. The purpose of my solitary journey was to procure an appropriate dwelling, and which, we had agreed, should be a little pleasant house, with an indispensable look out upon the sea. I chose one, accordingly; a pretty villa, with bow-windows, and a prospect delightfully marine. The ocean murmur sounded incessantly from the beach. A decent, elderly body, in decayed sables, undertook, on her part, to promote the comforts of the occupants by every suitable attention, and, as she assured me, at a very reasonable rate. So far, the nocturnal faculty had served me truly. A day-dream could not have proceeded more orderly; but, alas, just here, when the dwelling was selected, the sea view secured, the rent agreed upon, when every thing was plausible, consistent, and rational, the incoherent fancy crept in and confounded all,--by marrying me to the old woman of the house!”
Because it never happened that Mr. Hood in his dreams fancied himself deprived of any sense, he was greatly puzzled by this question,--
“How does a BLIND man dream?”
“I mean” says Mr. H. “a person with the opaque crystal from his birth. He is defective in that very faculty which, of all others, is most active in those night-passages, thence emphatically called Visions. He has had no acquaintance with external images; and has, therefore, none of those transparent pictures that, like the slides of a magic-lantern, pass before the mind’s eye, and are projected by the inward spiritual light upon the utter blank. His imagination must be like an imperfect kaleidoscope, totally unfurnished with those parti-coloured fragments, whereof the complete instrument makes such interminable combinations. It is difficult to conceive such a man’s dream.
“Is it, a still benighted wandering,--a pitch-dark night progress, made known to him by the consciousness of the remaining senses? Is he still pulled through the universal blank, by an invisible power, as it were, at the nether end of the string?--regaled, sometimes, with celestial voluntaries, and unknown mysterious fragrances, answering to our more romantic flights; at other times, with homely voices, and more familiar odours; here, of rank smelling cheeses, there, of pungent pickles or aromatic drugs, hinting his progress through a metropolitan street. Does he over again enjoy the grateful roundness of those substantial droppings from the invisible passenger,--palpable deposits of an abstract benevolence,--or, in his nightmares, suffer anew those painful concussions and corporeal buffetings, from that (to him) obscure evil principle, the Parish Beadle?
“This question I am happily enabled to resolve, through the information of the oldest of those blind Tobits that stand in fresco against Bunhill-wall; the same who made that notable comparison, of scarlet, to the sound of a trumpet. As I understood him, harmony, with the gravel-blind, is prismatic as well as chromatic. To use his own illustration, a wall-eyed man has a palette in his ear as well as in his mouth. Some stone-blinds, indeed, dull dogs without any ear for colour, profess to distinguish the different hues and shades by the touch; but that, he said, was a slovenly, uncertain method, and in the chief article, of paintings, not allowed to be exercised.
“On my expressing some natural surprise at the aptitude of his celebrated comparison,--a miraculous close likening, to my mind, of the known to the unknown,--he told me, the instance was nothing, for the least discriminative among them could distinguish the scarlet colour of the mail guards’ liveries, by the sound of their horns: but there were others, so acute their faculty! that they could tell the very features and complexion of their relatives and familiars, by the mere tone of their voices. I was much gratified with this explanation; for I confess, hitherto, I was always extremely puzzled by that narrative in the ‘Tatler,’ of a young gentleman’s behaviour after the operation of couching, and especially at the wonderful promptness with which he distinguished his father from his mother,--his mistress from her maid. But it appears, that the blind are not so blind as they have been esteemed in the vulgar notion. What they cannot get one way they obtain in another: they, in fact, realize what the author of Hudibras has ridiculed as a fiction, for they set up
---------communities of senses, To chop and change intelligences, As Rosicrucian Virtuosis Can see with ears--and hear with noses.”
Never having tried opium, and therefore without experience of “such magnificent visions” as are described by its eloquent historian, “I have never,” says Mr. Hood, “been buried for ages under pyramids; and yet, methinks, have suffered agonies as intense as his could be, from the common-place inflictions. For example, a night spent in the counting of interminable numbers,--an inquisitorial penance,--everlasting tedium,--the mind’s treadmill.”
* * * * *
That “the innocent--sleep,” is an exceptionable position. What happy man, with a happy wife by his side, and the first, sweet, restless plague and pledge of their happiness by hers, has not been awakened to a sense of his felicity, by a weak, yet shrill and spirit-stirring “la-a, la-a, la-a, la-a, la-a-a, la-a-a--a,” of some secret sorrow, “for ever telling, yet untold.”
Happy the man whose only care A few paternal achings are.
Gentle reader of the Benedictine order! I presume not to anticipate the pleasure thou wilt derive from contemplating thyself engaged in a domestic exercise, suited to the occasion,--pacing thy bed-room at “the heavy middle of the night,” holding the little “innocent”
Fondly lock’d in duty’s arms;
its dear eyes provokingly open to the light of the chamber-lantern; thine own closed by drowsiness, yet kept unsealed by affection; thy lips arranged for the piano of carminative sounds--“quivering to the young-eyed cherubim”--
Oh! slumber my darling Thy sire is a knight--
--thy “darling” ceasing its “sweet voice,” to offer more decisively by its looks, “I would out-night you.” Brother Benedict! there is an engraving of thee, and thine, in the book I speak of, mottoed, “Son of the sleepless!”
Let me extract another cut, seemingly a portrait of the alarming “hope of the family,” after thou hast for some few years tried, perchance, “the Locke system; which, after all,” according to Mr. Hood, “is but a canal system for raising the babe-mind to unnatural levels”--
* * * * *
At about the age of “My son, sir,” boys seek to satisfy their curiosity, and gratify their taste. It is the spelling-time of young experience, and they are extremely diligent. Their senses are fresh and undepraved, and covetous of the simplest pleasures.
Every town in England, and every village, with inhabitants and wealth sufficient to consume a hogshead of “brown moist” within a reasonable time, exhibits an empty sugar cask in the open street; it is every little grocer’s pride, and every poor boy’s delight:--
“Gentle reader, read the motto! read the motto!” Look at the engraving; “show it to your children, and to your children’s children,” and ask them what they think. If you desire an immediate living example to illustrate professor Malthus’s principle, that “population always comes up to the mean of subsistence,” set out a sugar cask, and there will be a swarm of boys about it, from no one knows whither, in ten minutes. The first takes possession of the inside, and is “monarch of all he surveys.” Like the throne, it is an envied, and an unquiet possession. From the emulous, on all sides, he receives vain addresses and remonstrances, and against their threatening hands is obliged to keep a sharp look out; but his greatest enemy, and for whom he keeps a sharp look over, is the grocer’s man. A glimpse of that arch-foe “frightens him from his impropriety” in a twinkling; unless, indeed, from the nearness of the adversary he fail to escape, when, for certain, his companions leave him “alone in his glory,” and then he knows for a truth, that “after sweet comes sour.” The boy there, straddling like the “Great Harry,” has had his wicked will of the barrel to satiety, and therefore vacates his place in favour of him of the hat, on whose nether end “time hath written strange defeatures.” It is not so certain, that the fine, fat, little fellow, with his hands on the edge of the tub, and the ends of his toes on the ground, will ascend the side, as that he who stoops in front is enjoying the choicest pickings of the prize. The others are mere common feeders, or gluttons, who go for quantity; he is the epicure of the party--
He seeks but little here below But seeks that little good;
and, of foretaste, he takes his place at the bung-hole, where the sugar crystallizes, and there revels in particles of the finest candies. “I pity the poor child,” says Mr. Hood, “that is learned in alpha beta, but ignorant of top and taw”--and I pity every poor child who only knows that a sugar tub is sweet, and is ignorant of the sweetest of its sweets. There are as many different pickings in it as there are cuts in a shoulder of mutton, or Mr. Hood’s book. My authority for this information is an acute, pale-faced, sickly, printer’s boy, an adapt in lickerish things, who declared the fact the morning after he had been to see Mr. Mathews, by affirming, with enthusiasm, “I’ve tried it, I’ve analyzed it, and I know it.”
“Ah! little think the gay, licentious proud,”
who spend their money on bulls-eyes and hard-bake, which are modern inventions, of the delicacies within a grocer’s plain, upright and downright, good, old, natural, brown sugar tub--
“O! there’s nothing half so sweet in life.”
Mr. Hood introduces another “sweet pleasure,” with another equally apt quotation:--
This figure of “THE POPULAR CUPID,” Mr. Hood copied, “by permission, from a lady’s Valentine;” and he says, “in the romantic mythology it is the image of the divinity of Love.” He inquires, “Is this he, that, in the mind’s eye of the poetess, drifts adown the Ganges--
Pillow’d in a lotus flow’r, Gather’d in a summer hour, Floats he o’er the mountain wave, Which would be a tall ship’s grave?
--Does Belinda believe that such a substantial Sagittarius lies ambushed in her perilous blue eye?--I can believe in his dwelling alone in the heart--seeing that he must occupy it to repletion: in his constancy--because he looks sedentary, and not apt to roam: that he is given to melt--from his great pinguitude: that he burneth with a flame--for so all fat burneth: and hath languishings--like other bodies of his tonnage: that he sighs--from his size. I dispute not his kneeling at ladies’ feet--since it is the posture of elephants--nor his promise, that the homage shall remain eternal. I doubt not of his dying--being of a corpulent habit, and a short neck: of his blindness--with that inflated pig’s cheek. But, for his lodging in Belinda’s blue eye, my whole faith is heretic--for she hath never a sty in it.”
Mr. Hood, doubtless, desires that the world should know his “Whims and Oddities” through his own work; its notice here, therefore, while it affords a winter evening’s half hour entertainment, is not to mar his hopes. But it is impossible to close its merry-making leaves without shadowing forth a little more of the volume.
It ought to be observed, that the prints just presented are from engravings in Mr. Hood’s book, of which there are forty drawn by his own pencil; and, that he attaches a motto to each, so antithetical, as to constitute the volume a pocket portfolio of designs to excite risibility. For example:--
He tells a story of his “Aunt Shakerly,” a lady of enormous bulk, who placed Mr. Hood’s baby cousin in the nursing-chair while she took in the news, and then, in her eagerness to read the accidents and offences, unthinkingly sat, with the gravity of a coroner’s inquest, in the aforesaid chair, and thereby unconsciously suppressed “an article of intelligence”--an occurrence which there is little reason to doubt appeared among the “horribles,” in the favourite department of her paper, the next morning. The engraving that pictures this is mottoed, “THE SPOILED CHILD!”
Mr. Hood institutes “A Complaint against Greatness,” through “an unhappy candidate for the show at Sadler’s repository,” described in the following item of the catalogue--“The reverend Mr. Farmer, a four years’ old Durham ox, fed by himself, upon oil-cake and mangel-wurzel.” The complainant, however, says, “I resemble that worthy agricultural vicar only in my fat living.”
This being the season when these condemned animals come up from the country to the metropolis, it seems a fit time to hear the complainant’s description of his journey. “Wearisome and painful was my pilgrim-like progress to this place, by short and tremulous steppings--like the digit’s march upon a dial. My owner, jealous of my fat, procured a crippled drover, with a withered limb, for my conductor; but even he hurried me beyond my breath. The drawling hearse left me labouring behind; the ponderous fly-waggon passed me like a bird upon the road, so tediously slow is my pace. It just sufficeth, oh, ye thrice happy oysters! that have no locomotive faculty at all, to distinguish that I am not at rest. Wherever the grass grew by the way-side, how it tempted my natural longings--the cool brook flowed at my very foot, but this short, thick neck forbade me to eat or drink; nothing but my redundant dewlap is likely ever to graze on the ground!--If stalls and troughs were not extant, I must perish. Nature has given to the elephant a long, flexible tube, or trunk, so that he can feed his mouth, as it were, by his nose: but is man able to furnish me with such an implement? Or would he not still withhold it, lest I should prefer the green herb, my natural, delicious diet, and reject his rank, unsavoury condiments?--What beast, with free will, but would repair to the sweet meadow for its pasture”--
Verily, it is humane thus to lecture man from the mouth of an animal, whose species is annually deformed for butcherly pride, and the loathing of the table--“to see the prize-steak loaded with that rank, yellow abomination, might wean a man from carnivorous habits for ever.” The supplicant for our compassion adds, in behalf of himself and his dumb-fellow creatures, “It may seem presumption in a brute to question the human wisdom; but truly, I can perceive no beneficial ends worthy to be set off against our sufferings. There must be, methinks, a nearer (and a better) way of augmenting the perquisites of the kitchen-wench and the fire-man.” There is an admirable cut of the over-fed petitioner, breathing “O, that this too, too solid flesh would melt!” The figure of the crippled drover is excellent.
Mr. Hood devises a romantic adventure that befel a herd of these animals of the common class, and a little wooden, white-painted house on four wheels, to which a sedentary citizen and his wife had retired to spend their days, “impaled” by the wayside on Hounslow-heath, where--
Having had some quarters of school breeding, They turn’d themselves, like other folks, to reading; But setting out where others nigh have done, And being ripen’d in the seventh stage, The childhood of old age, Began as other children have begun,-- Not with the pastorals of Mr. Pope, Or Bard of Hope, Or Paley, ethical, or learned Porson,-- But spelt, on sabbaths, in St. Mark, or John, And then relax’d themselves with Whittington, Or Valentine and Orson-- But chiefly fairy tales they loved to con, And being easily melted, in their dotage, Slobber’d,--and kept Reading,--and wept Over the White Cat, in their wooden cottage.
Thus reading on--the longer They read, of course, their childish faith grew stronger In gnomes, and hags, and elves, and giant grim,-- If talking trees and birds reveal’d to him, She saw the flight of fairyland’s fly-waggons, And magic-fishes swim In puddle ponds, and took old crows for dragons,-- Both were quite drunk from the enchanted flaggons; When as it fell upon a summer’s day. As the old man sat a feeding On the old babe-reading, Beside his open street-and-parlour door, A hideous roar Proclaim’d a drove of beasts was coming by the way.
Long-horned, and short, of many a different breed, Tall, tawny brutes, from famous Lincoln-levels, Or Durham feed; With some of those unquiet, black, dwarf devils, From nether side of Tweed, Or Firth of Forth; Looking half wild with joy to leave the North,-- With dusty hides, all mobbing on together,-- When,--whether from a fly’s malicious comment Upon his tender flank, from which he shrank; Or whether Only in some enthusiastic moment,-- However, one brown monster, in a frisk, Giving his tail a perpendicular whisk, Kick’d out a passage thro’ the beastly rabble; And after a pas seul,--or, if you will, a Horn-pipe, before the basket-maker’s villa, Leapt o’er the tiny pale,-- Back’d his beef-steaks against the wooden gable, And thrust his brawny bell-rope of a tail Right o’er the page, Wherein the sage Just then was spelling some romantic fable.
The old man, half a scholar, half a dunce, Could not peruse, who could?--two tales at once; And being huff’d At what he knew was none of Riquet’s tuft; Bang’d-to the door, But most unluckily enclosed a morsel Of the intruding tail, and all the tassel:-- The monster gave a roar, And bolting off with speed, increased by pain, The little house became a coach once more, And, like Macheath, “took to the road” again!
When this happened the old man’s wife was absent,
Getting up some household herbs for supper, Thoughtful of Cinderella, in the tale, And quaintly wondering how magic shifts Could o’er a common pumpkin so prevail, To turn it to a coach;
nor did she turn round, till house and spouse had turned a corner out of sight.
The change was quite amazing; It made her senses stagger for a minute, The riddle’s explication seem’d to harden; But soon her superannuated nous Explained the horrid mystery;--and raising Her hand to heaven, with the cabbage in it, On which she meant to sup,-- “Well! this is fairy work! I’ll bet a farden, Little prince Silverwings has ketch’d me up, And set me down in some one else’s garden!”
Here ends the “fairy tale” of Hounslow-heath.
* * * * *
“She is far from the land!” is a motto to an engraving of a land lady, frightened by voyaging in a Thames wherry, opposite St. Paul’s. Her after alarms at sea are concluded pleasantly:--
“We were off Flamborough-head. A heavy swell, the consequence of some recent storm to the eastward, was rolling right before the wind upon the land:--and, once under the shadow of the bluff promontory, we should lose all the advantage of a saving westerly breeze. Even the seamen looked anxious: but the passengers, (save one,) were in despair. They were, already, bones of contention, in their own misgivings, to the myriads of cormorants and waterfowl inhabiting that stupendous cliff. Miss Oliver alone was sanguine. She was all nods, and becks, and wreathed smiles; her cheeriness increased in proportion with our dreariness. Even the dismal pitching of the vessel could not disturb her unseasonable levity;--it was like a lightening before death--but, at length, the mystery was explained. She had springs of comfort that we knew not of. Not brandy, for that we shared in common; nor supplications, for those we had all applied to; but her ears, being jealously vigilant of whatever passed between the mariners, she had overheard from the captain,--and it had all the sound, to her, of a comfortable promise,--that ‘if the wind held, we should certainly go on shore.’”
* * * * *